Empire & European Foods office building.

CAPTION: OCTOBER 1940

A Rolls-Royce arrives and the doorman opens the door of the car for Sir Reginald Walker to get out.

Doorman: Morning, sir. 

Reginald: Good morning. 

Reginald walks through the lobby and takes the lift right up to the top, the 18th floor. As the lift door opens, Philby is waiting for him.

Philby: Good morning, Sir Reginald. I was wondering-

Reginald: Not now, Philby. 

Office. Secretary Agnes Browne is organising paper when Reginald walks in through the door behind her.

Reginald: Are they all here, Miss Browne? 

Agnes: Yes, Sir Reginald. 

She takes his hat and coat for him.

Reginald: Simon? 

Agnes: He came back from the airport just a little while ago, sir. 

Reginald: Good. I'll need to see him immediately. 

Agnes: He's in his office. 

Reginald: Right. Miss Browne, I'd like you to take the minutes of this morning's board meeting. 

Agnes: What about Miss Patterson? 

Reginald: No. Just you. 

Agnes: Yes, Sir Reginald. 

He leaves and she takes her glasses off.

Boardroom.

Reginald: The minutes of this meeting must be kept to a minimum. An aide memoire to be deposited with our solicitors. 

The board members, including Simon Walker and Philby, sit around a conference table. Agnes is behind them taking the minutes.

Reginald: I'd be happier to see nothing in writing. There may come a time after the w*r when we need to demonstrate that there was a consensus on our European operations, which I am sure is the case. I had to think carefully about which board members should be here. Some I felt were not in tune with our thinking. 

Simon gives Philby a look.

Reginald: I don't need to remind you that what is said here must go no further. The usual caveats about walls and ears. Now I'll hand you over to my son, Simon. Simon returned from Switzerland this morning, not an easy journey these days. Simon. 

Simon: I've brought home a letter, and unlike the one Mr Chamberlain brought from Munich this one is worth the paper it's written on. 

He holds up a document written in German.

Simon: Put simply, the agreement I've reached will make Empire & European Foods the largest processor of non-mineral fats and oils in Europe both during the w*r and after it. It doesn't even matter who wins. We can't lose. 

The board members all clap, Philby rather weakly. Behind them, Agnes closes her notebook.

Office. Agnes hurries in closing the pebbled glass doors behind her. She takes her glasses off and picks up the phone.

Agnes: Could I have Hastings 1456, please? 

She gasps and looks round nervously, then turns a fan on beside her.

Agnes: This is Agnes. I can't talk, but he came back from Switzerland this morning and it's just like you said. He's brought back a letter. 

It's visible through the pebbled glass behind her that someone has stopped outside the room.

Agnes: And I think I can get it, but we'll have to be quick. Tonight? At eight o'clock. The usual place. 

The door silently opens behind her. Agnes turns round fearfully as someone approaches her.

Outside. Agnes screams as she falls from the eighteenth floor. People rush over to crowd around her body.

OPENING CREDITS

Courtroom. Foyle sits listening as barrister Stephen Beck questions Milner.

Beck: Sergeant Milner, you made the arrest? 

Milner: I did, yes. 

Beck: Can you describe how you found the d*ad man? 

Milner: He was lying on the floor in the locker room of the pottery where they both worked. There was a belt around his neck, and he'd been strangled. 

Beck: And can you tell me very briefly on what grounds you arrested my client? 

Milner: He'd argued violently with the d*ad man. He'd also thr*at him. 

Beck: Rather tenuous evidence, I would have said. Can I have the belt, please? 

The court official, Arthur Browne, brings a belt over to him.

Beck: This is the belt that was used? 

Milner: Yes. 

Beck: And you of course checked it for fingerprints, but you found no fingerprints belonging to my client. I put it to you, Sergeant Milner, this is not a m*rder at all. A man climbs onto a chair and hangs himself from a belt. Any belt that he finds in the locker room. He falls, and the chair beneath him topples. 

Milner: He had grazes on his knuckles. 

Beck: The body was in the room for three days before it was found. It attracted rats, I believe. 

Milner: Yes. 

Beck: Could not the rats have been responsible for the grazes, Sergeant Milner? Could they not in fact have been bites? 

Milner: No. That would have looked quite different. 

Beck: Are you a qualified medical officer, Sergeant Milner? 

Milner: No. 

Beck: No further questions. 

Milner (voiceover): He made a fool out of me.

Foyle and Milner are heading down the stairs.

Foyle: No, I think you held your own, and it's not over yet. 

Browne passes them on the stairs.

Browne: Good afternoon, sir. 

Foyle: Good afternoon. 

Milner: I know he's guilty. 

Foyle: I'm sure the jury will agree. 

Milner: I'd like to get my hands on that barrister, though.

Foyle: Well, here's your chance. 

Beck approaches them as they reach the bottom of the stairs.

Beck: Ah, Christopher. 

Foyle: Stephen. Not lost your touch, then. 

Beck: I'll take that as a compliment. 

Foyle: And, er, you two have already met of course. 

Beck: I hope you'll forgive me. 

Milner: Let's wait for the verdict, shall we, sir?

Beck: Ah. Yes. Fishing this weekend, Christopher? 

Foyle: Well, there's precious little in the shops. 

Beck: Well, maybe we can get some for ourselves. 

Foyle: Certainly. Bye.

Beck leaves.

Milner: I didn't realise that, er- 

Foyle: No, I'm sorry I didn't mention it. Wouldn't have helped if I had. 

Police station. A group of children, led by Brian, are speaking with Sergeant Rivers at the front desk.

Rivers: Here he comes now. You can ask him yourself. 

Foyle, Sam and Milner walk in through the door behind.

Brian: Afternoon, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Oh, hello, Brian. 

Brian: It's paper day. 

Foyle: Yes, sorry. I've gone and forgotten again, haven't I? 

The children have a pram full of salvaged scrap with them.

Brian: One envelope makes 50 cartridge bottoms, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: I do know that, Brian. 

One of the boys, Tim, seizes on a f*re bucket hanging on a hook nearby.

Tim: Do you need this? 

Sam: Ah. Hands off, Tim. 

Brian: But it's aluminium. We always take aluminium for Spitfires. 

River: You take that and what do we do if the police station catches f*re? 

Tim: We need more salvage because of the prize. There's chocolate. 

Brian: And because of winning the w*r. 

Sam: Why don't you come back tomorrow? We could have gathered up more paper for you by then. 

Brian picks up a notebook to write it down.

Brian: After breakfast? Ten o'clock okay? 

Sam: It's a date. 

Brian: Good. 

The group of children head out of the station.

Foyle: Bye, then. 

Milner: Bye.

Brian: Bye-bye, Mr Foyle.

Foyle, Milner and Sam start walking through into the back.

Foyle: I think that's the second salvage collection I've missed. They've got me down as a fifth columnist. 

Rivers comes round from behind the desk to give Foyle a letter.

Rivers: Letter came for you, sir. Hand-delivered by a Home Guard from Brigadier Harcourt, Home Guard Liaison Committee. 

Foyle: Yeah. I've been roped into some sort of exercise. 

Sam: w*r games? 

Foyle: The regular army's involved. There's a couple of hundred men taking sh*ts at each other in the woods round Hastings. 

Sam: Are they asking you to join up? 

Foyle: No, I'm the referee. Which means I'm not in court tomorrow, Milner. 

Milner: That's all right, sir. 

Foyle: I'm sure you'll manage. 

Beehives outside a small farming cottage. Wearing a veil and gloves, Lucy Markham lifts one of the wooden frames out to inspect the honeycomb. Her brother Harry comes out of the cottage behind.

Harry: Lucy. 

Lucy, Yeah. I'm just coming. 

Inside. Harry sits at the table with a letter. Lucy comes in, lifting off her veil.

Lucy: Least there's honey for breakfast. 

Harry: Another letter from the bank. 

Lucy: Just put it with the others. 

Harry: We can't keep ignoring them. 

Lucy: Well, there's not much else we can do. Look, they won't bother with us. We're just too small for them to worry about. 

Harry opens another letter.

Harry: CWAEC. 

Lucy: What's that? 

Harry: w*r Agricultural Committee. A ploughing up order for the top field. 

Lucy: Well, they did warn us it would come. 

Harry: What was Dad thinking of? Bloody fool! 

Lucy: Come on. It's not as bad as that. 

Harry: There've got to be easier ways to earn a living. 

Lucy: You are not going back to that. 

Harry: No, Lucy, that's not what I meant. 

Lucy: I know you, Harry. I know what you're thinking. 

Harry: I'm not gonna leave. 

Lucy: If anything k*lled Dad it was that, you going to prison. 

Harry: What k*lled Dad was pneumonia. And he got pneumonia because he was out cutting kale at six o'clock in the morning in the coldest winter we ever had. And if we hang around much longer we'll probably join him. 

Lucy: We can make a go of it. 

Home Guard headquarters. Members of Home Guard are preparing equipment while Brigadier Harcourt addresses a group of people round a table, including Foyle. Philby is also there, in a Home Guard uniform, taking notes.

Harcourt: Now, the object of the exercise is for the Home Guard to hold up the advance of the enemy for as long as possible. The assumption is they would have landed at several points on the coast. These points will not be known until the exercise has g*n. I shall refer to the enemy as Red. Blue is the Home Guard. And on the day we will wear flashes of the appropriate colour. You'll be White, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Right. 

Harcourt: Neutral. The enemy will consist of regular troops, so we'll have quite a fight on our hands. Their CO should be here at any moment. 

Philby: When we get the information about the enemy beachheads, are we meant to att*ck them, sir? 

Harcourt: No, Philby. No. Our job is to obstruct. Philby will be acting as my second in command. He's also our main liaison with Sir Reginald Walker. 

Philby: Part of the exercise will be taking place on Sir Reginald's estate. 

Foyle: Right. 

Harcourt: Luckily Philby here knows the man. 

Philby: I'm a director with Empire & European Foods. 

Foyle: Right. Er, as I understand it the game starts with only a limited number of enemy soldiers at these so-called beachheads. 

Harcourt: It's no game. 

Foyle: Well, I'll still need a clear understanding of the rules. If troop movements are to allow for roads and bridges falling into enemy hands, um, this presumably is going to involve the military police? 

Philby: We've spoken to them, yes. 

Foyle: Are you using, er, live amm*nit*on? 

Harcourt: In a few designated areas, otherwise it'll be blanks. 

Foyle: Well, again, er, the military police will have to patrol the boundaries. I mean, we need absolute clarity on that for everybody's sake. 

Harcourt: The maps are drawn, Mr Foyle. I can foresee no problems at all. What I don't want are any unnecessary hold-ups in the movement of Home Guard forces. We can't have civilian traffic clogging us up. 

Foyle: Well, if we're trying to create invasion conditions, there's little point in keeping the roads absolutely clear. A real invasion'd see all the roads north of Hastings clogged with refugees, and in reality you'd have to deal with that somehow. 

Harcourt: You're here as a referee, Mr Foyle. I think you can leave the military planning to me. 

Foyle: Oh, right. 

Army officer Captain Devlin enters.

Harcourt: Ah. Here's the regular army. Not before time, if I may say so. Mr Foyle, this is Captain Devlin. 

Foyle: Devlin, how are you? 

Devlin: Good to see you again, sir. 

Foyle: Yes, and you. 

They shake hands.

Harcourt: You two know each other? 

Foyle: We've met. 

Later. Devlin and Foyle leave the HQ together.

Foyle: So you're stationed near here, are you? 

Devlin: Actually, I've been stuck at a desk job since I was shipped back from France. Caught a bit of shrapnel. Nothing to worry about, but, er, took a while to heal. Should be, er, rejoining the chaps any day now. 

Foyle: Good. 

Devlin: Didn't expect to find you caught up in all this, though. 

Foyle: Well, nor me. 

Devlin: They give you a new sergeant? 

Foyle: Yeah, he's a good man. You'll probably meet him. 

Devlin: How's Andrew? 

Foyle: He's very well, thank you. He's, er, with a squadron on the south coast. 

Devlin: Oh, good for him. They, er, didn't let you transfer, then? I heard a rumour you were going to work with General Ismay. 

Foyle: No, it didn't work out. 

Devlin: You're damn good at your job. 

Foyle: Well, if that's the case, what am I still doing here, I wonder? 

Devlin: Well, I'd better get this lot sorted out. Prepare for battle. 

Foyle: Right. 

Markham farm. Lucy is wheeling her bike down to the gate. Stephen Beck sits in a car in the lane outside. Once she's gone, he approaches an outbuilding where Harry is forking hay.

Beck: Markham? 

Harry: Mr Beck. 

Beck: I wondered if I might have a word. 

Harry: Come inside. 

Inside. Harry takes a drag on a cigarette and shakes his head.

Harry: I can't believe you're asking me to do this. You of all people! You know I've been out of trouble for two months. 

Beck: You've been out of prison for two months. I had something to do with that. 

Harry: I know. I know what I owe you. 

Beck: I wouldn't have come to you if it hadn't been important, Harry. 

Harry: Important? 

Beck: Much more than that. 

Harry: I don't know. It just seems mad. I can't believe you're talking to me this way. 

Beck: It's a mad world. We all have to adjust. 

Harry: Why can't you go to the police? 

Beck sighs.

Harry: Sir Reginald Walker. You know he's my landlord? 

Beck: Oh, I, I didn't know. 

Harry: Rented this land to my dad. It was my dad who had the bright idea to switch from arable to dairy. Now you get 45 shillings a quarter guaranteed for wheat, but milk... He died while I was in prison. 

Beck: I'm sorry. 

Harry: Lucy thinks it was my fault. She thinks he died of shame, but that's not true. Working here that k*lled him! 

Beck: Will you do it? 

Harry: There's a safe? 

Beck: A big one. American. 

Harry: They'll know it was me. 

Beck: The crime won't even be reported, my friend. 

Harry: Why not? 

Beck: Trust me. 

Harry: Can I think about it? 

Beck: I have very little time. I'm leaving England quite soon now. 

Harry: Leaving to go where? 

Beck: It doesn't matter. Here is my telephone number. You can call me. 

He gives Beck a slip of paper.

Harry: Sir Reginald Walker is extremely wealthy. He owns this farm and many others. You're paying him to work here, which makes him even wealthier. That is also... mad. Call me. 

He leaves.

Outside. As Beck's car is driving away, Lucy returns with her bike.

Inside. Harry is tucking the slip of paper away in a book as Lucy comes in.

Lucy: Forgot my ration book. Who was that? 

Harry: No one. 

Lucy: Harry, who was that? 

Harry: They were lost. They were asking the way. 

Greenwood Hall, home of the Walker family. Alice Walker is coming down the stairs, and sees Simon just closing and locking the cellar door.

Alice: Simon? 

Simon: Alice. 

Alice: What are you doing? 

Simon: Just checking on the wine. 

Alice: So why do you lock the cellar? 

Simon: Well, we've got some stuff down there worth £20 a bottle. You can never be too careful. Shall we? 

He offers her his arm.

Lounge. Reginald walker is just pouring a drink as they come in.

Reginald: Ah. There you are, my dear. Drink? 

Alice: Mmm, thank you. Mmm, lovely. Now, Reginald, I want to talk to you about the dining room. 

Reginald: Oh, yes? 

Alice: I was thinking of having it redecorated. I feel the wallpaper is rather musty and old-fashioned. We could do with new curtains, too. 

Simon: That's a shame. Mother loved the dining room. 

Reginald: Simon! This is your house now, Alice, and you must have it how you like. I'll get someone in. 

Alice: No, don't worry. I'll see to it myself. I know how busy you are. 

Reginald: Better wait a few days until these exercises are out of the way. 

Alice: Mmm. The Home Guard. 

Simon: Pretty ghastly if you ask me, having the whole world and his wife tramping over the estate. 

Reginald: It's only 24 hours. Anyway, Alice, better not leave the house, and tell the groundsmen to stay out of the lower woods. They may be using live amm*nit*on. 

Alice: Whatever you say, dear. 

Reginald: We don't want anyone getting sh*t. 

Night. Harry Markham climbs over the wall around the estate. A pair of guard dogs run towards him, barking. He reaches into his bag and pulls out some meat which he throws to the dogs.

Master bedroom. Reginald and Alice lie sleeping. Faint barks can be heard in the distance.

Outside. Harry watches as the dogs flop down onto the grass and go to sleep. He creeps towards the house and carefully removes a small pane of glass from a window. Reaching in, he opens it with a creak.

Bedroom. Alice snaps awake at the sound.

Downstairs study. Harry shines a torch around and spots the safe under a desk. He puts his ear to it as he starts turning the tumblers. Finally, he opens it with a clunk.

Bedroom. Alice sits up, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Alice: (Reggie! Reggie!)

She shakes Reginald.

Reginald: Oh, Lord. What is it? 

Alice: I think there's someone downstairs. 

He sits up too.

Downstairs. Harry goes through the contents of the safe, shining his torch on the papers. He finds the letter of agreement in German. He also finds a decorated gold box. Then there's the sound of a door opening. Harry stuffs the box into his bag and runs.

Staircase. Reginald is on his way down, followed by Simon.

Reginald: (God. There's a burglar.)

Simon: Right. He dashes ahead and opens a cupboard door to grab a g*n.

Outside. Harry runs across the grass. Simon steps out of the door behind him holding the g*n.

Simon: Stop! Thief! 

Harry glances back and sees the g*n.

Harry: Oh!

Simon sh**t and Harry cries out in pain, clutching his arm. Simon sh**t again.

Harry makes it over the wall, dropping down outside. A motorbike is coming along the nearby road.

Estate grounds.

Reginald: Did you get him? 

Simon: Tickled him. 

Road. The motorbike honks its horn as Harry runs across the road.

Daylight. Sam, Foyle and Milner are driving along a country lane.

Milner: Sir Reginald Walker. Isn't he the chairman of Empire & European Foods? 

Foyle: Yeah, that's right. This Home Guard exercise is, er, taking place on his land here. 

Milner: The break-in was reported by a warden on his way home. He heard a sh*t, and saw someone climb over the wall. But Sir Reginald never actually reported the crime himself. We contacted him. 

Foyle: That's unusual. 

The car pulls up outside Greenwood Hall.

Reginald (voiceover): I didn't like to trouble you.

The Walkers are gathered in the study with Milner and Foyle.

Reginald: These are difficult times and it seems to me that the police have enough on their plate already. 

Simon: It's not as if anything was taken. 

Milner: Are you quite sure of that, sir? 

Simon: Well, we've looked around and there doesn't seem to be anything missing. 

Foyle: But he did get into the safe, is that right? 

Simon: Yes. The door was open, but I suppose I managed to chase him off before he could r*fle the contents. 

Reginald: Not that he'd have found anything anyway. I only keep business papers in there. 

Alice: Yes. I keep my jewellery upstairs. 

Foyle: Is the safe, um-

He points towards it.

Reginald: Yes. It's American. Way ahead of its time. Manipulation-proof. Lever tumbler lock. Over ten million combinations. 

Simon: I'd say you're looking for a real professional, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: I'd say you were right, Mr Walker. 

Simon: Any names spring to mind? Er, any known felons, that sort of thing?

Foyle: Is this the window he came through? 

Reginald: Yes. Drugged both the dogs first. 

Foyle: And you took a sh*t at him as he left, is that right? 

Reginald: My son fired into the air, Mr Foyle. 

Simon: A warning sh*t. Didn't want to h*t anyone. 

Reginald: Look, in retrospect I can see that we should have reported this, but since no one was hurt and nothing was taken, I don't think we should waste any more time. 

Foyle: Right. 

Outside. Sam is waiting by the car as Foyle and Milner emerge.

Foyle: Never met anybody quite so cheerful about being burgled. 

Milner: No. And his son said he fired a warning sh*t. You don't try and warn someone by f*ring at them. Not if they're already running away. 

They get in the car.

Foyle: A man called Harry Markham. He's the only one round here capable of getting into a safe like that. 

Milner: And not taking anything? 

Foyle: Yeah. Came out of prison two months ago. Devlin arrested him. It was the last case he handled before he joined up. 

Milner: Markham? 

Foyle: Yeah, before your time. You wouldn't know him. You should go and introduce yourself. 

Inside. Reginald and Simon are watching them leave from the windows.

Reginald: I want it back. 

Simon: Of course you want it back, Pa. It's worth a bloody fortune. 

Reginald: It's worth more than that, Simon, and do you know, sometimes I worry about your ability to see the wider canvas. 

Simon: Whoever has it will try to sell it. 

Reginald: We have to find it before that. We have to think like this man Foyle. He said it was a professional job, so he'll be looking for a professional. We must have friends at the police. What about Cade? He's at Scotland Yard. 

Simon: I'll get onto it. 

Alice comes into the room as Simon is leaving.

Reginald: I'm sorry about this, my dear. An unpleasant business. 

Alice: I still don't understand. Why didn't you call the police? 

Reginald: I didn't need to, did I? They came anyway. 

Alice: Was something taken? 

Reginald: Of course not! You don't think I'd lie, do you? Don't you worry about it. Just a little unpleasantness. Now, let's have some lunch. 

Markham cottage.

Lucy: I don't understand you, Harry. You said that was all behind you. 

Harry: It is. 

Lucy: Then where were you last night? What were you doing?

Harry: It's not what you think. 

Lucy: I know what I think! 

Harry: Lucy, please! Ah! 

He winces.

Lucy: Are you hurt? 

Harry: I'm fine. 

Lucy: Let me see. 

Harry:  Don't fuss. 

Lucy: Let me see.

She comes round and pulls at his collar.

Harry: Please just- ah! 

Lucy: Oh, Harry! What is this? 

Harry: Lucky I was 30 yards away. 

Lucy: Sit down. 

Harry: What, you- 

Lucy: Well, I can hardly call for a doctor, can I? 

He starts to unbutton his shirt.

Harry: Look, it was a favour for a friend. That's all. A favour that went wrong. 

Lucy: You broke into a house. 

Harry: I wasn't going to steal anything! I didn't mean to, but... Lucy, supposing I found something that could get us out of here? Give us enough money. Look for a new life. 

Lucy: We have a life here. 

Harry: We don't! 

Lucy: You sit down. 

He sits, and she sees the damage from the g*n blast.

Lucy: Oh, Harry, look at you! (God!) What is it, this thing you've got? 

Harry: I can't tell you. 

Lucy: Oh, where is it? 

Harry: I've got some looking after it. 

What friends? 

Lucy: Busy ones. And I can trust 'em, too. 

Harry: You just talk a load of nonsense, Harry. But you listen to me. You go back to thieving, I'll throw you out of here. Do you hear me? 

Harry: I'm sorry, Lucy. 

Lucy: Sorry as you're gonna be. 

She starts to dig the g*n pellets out of his back.

Harry: Ah! 

Lucy: Shh.

He groans in pain.

River. Foyle and Beck are fishing.

Beck: I hope your Mr Milner has forgiven me. 

Foyle: Well, I wouldn't underestimate him if I were you. 

Beck: I haven't, and I didn't. 

Foyle: Saw Jack Devlin the other day. 

Beck: Sergeant Devlin? 

Foyle: Well, he's a captain now. Um, Seventh Armoured Division. 

Beck: Yes. I remember him well. An interesting young man. 

Foyle: No, they're not feeding, are they? 

Beck: Ah, sometimes I prefer it that way. If the fish bite you only have to do something about it. 

Foyle: What are you using? 

Beck: Medium olive nymph. 

Foyle: Been reading Skues? 

He chuckles.

Beck: The Way of the Trout with the Fly. My wife bought me that on our first wedding anniversary. 

Foyle: You were still in Germany then, weren't you? 

Beck: Yes. We had to send to London for it. We didn't leave till '35. We saw what was coming. I love this sport, but sometimes I think it is the greatest waste of time anyone ever invented. 

Foyle: You know, you're right. Pint? 

Beck: A pint, the fishing. The evening light. There are things about this country I'd always miss if I had to leave. 

He turns to go. Foyle looks thoughtful.

Court building. Beck is coming down the stairs in his court robes and meets Harry Markham.

Harry: Mr Beck. 

Beck: Not here, Markham. Back stairs. Half an hour. 

He walks on.

Back stairs. Harry smokes, waiting. Beck arrives, now back in a suit.

Beck: You got it? 

Harry: No. I'm sorry, Mr Beck. It didn't work out. 

Beck: What happened? 

Harry: I managed to get in some of the way, but they must have been light sleepers. I heard them coming down the stairs, and I had to get out fast. 

Beck: You got nothing? 

Harry: Didn't have time to open the safe. I am sorry, Mr Beck. I didn't mean to let you down. 

Beck: You're lying to me. 

Harry: No! 

Beck: I've been a barrister for 30 years. You think I don't know a liar when I hear one? 

Harry: I had to get out of there. They sh*t at me! 

Beck: But you had something. 

Harry: I had nothing. 

Beck: Let me tell you something, my friend. You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. The people I work with. What I am capable of. 

Harry: Honestly, Mr Beck, I would never do anything to-

Beck grabs hold of him.

Beck: You were in the study. 

Harry: Yes. 

Beck: You opened the safe. 

Harry: No. 

Beck: What did you take? 

Harry: Nothing. 

Beck: I'll give you a little time, Markham. We'll meet again. And if I were you, I would think very carefully. 

He heads off down the stairs.

Foyle's office. There's a knock on the door and Sam opens it.

Sam: Sir. 

Foyle: Yeah. 

Sam: There's been another break-in, I'm afraid. Only this time we've got the culprits. They're outside. Would you mind having a word? 

Rivers is at the front desk, keeping an eye on the culprits. Foyle and Sam come out from the back.

Foyle: So, what you got to say for yourselves? 

It's Brian and Tim.

Brian: We were doing our duty. 

Tim: It's what the lady on the wireless told us to do. 

Sam: Lady Reading, sir. WVS. 

Foyle: You broke into your school, is that right? Looking for what? 

Brian: Salvage. 

Foyle: Such as? 

Brian: Paper. 

Tim: Saucepans. 

Brian: Or frying pans. 

Tim: Coathangers. 

Brian: Soap boxes. 

Tim: Shoe trees. 

Brian: Vacuum cleaner tubes. 

Tim: They can all be used. The lady said so. 

Brian: Did you know that a single chop bone can make the cordite for two cartridges?

Foyle: Right. Well, I've heard of children breaking out of school, but breaking in! And how did you get in? Over the railings? 

Brian: No. Someone's already taken them. 

Foyle: Now, look, what you're doing is very commendable, but you can't just go breaking into buildings, all right? 

Rivers: D'you want me to lock 'em up, sir? 

Tim: What? 

Rivers: Six months hard labour on bread and water? That should teach 'em. 

Foyle: Well, perhaps not this time, Sergeant. But listen, um, better stick to paper from now on, all right? 

Sam: Leave the chop bones to the professionals. 

Foyle: Yeah, maybe you need a new commanding officer, keep you out of trouble. Captain Stewart. 

Sam: Sir. 

Foyle: You've just been promoted. Keep an eye on them. 

He leaves.

Sam: Right, troops, quick march. 

She leads them out of the station.

Sam: And get your hands out your pockets. 

Markham farm. Lucy is at work in the fields as Milner arrives at the gate.

Milner: Miss Markham? 

Lucy: Yes. 

Milner: Sergeant Milner, Hastings Police. I'm looking for your brother. 

Lucy: Hastings? You work for Mr Foyle? 

Milner: Yes. 

Lucy: Sending you to do his dirty work for him this time, is he? 

Milner: I don't know what you mean. 

Lucy: You tell Mr Foyle from me Harry hasn't done anything, and he can just leave him alone. 

Milner: Where is he? 

Lucy: He's with his platoon. 

Milner: He's joined up? 

Lucy: Home Guard. They've got a big exercise. 

Milner: That starts tomorrow. 

Lucy: I haven't seen him today. 

Milner: Well, um, when he comes home would you let him know we'd like to speak to him? 

He goes to leave, and spots Harry's bloody shirt in the dustbin.

Milner: Somebody hurt? 

Lucy: Yeah, that was Harry. He just cut his hand on a fence. 

Milner: He's lucky he has you to look after him. 

He leaves.

Pub. One of the Home Guard, Clarke, arrives outside on a bicycle. He's carrying a newspaper.

Inside. Another Home Guard, Connor, sits with a beer. Clarke sits down opposite him.

Clarke: Thought I'd find you here. 

Connor: What d'you want? 

Clarke drops the newspaper in front of him.

Clarke: Look at this. 

Connor: What is it? 

Clarke: The local rag. 

Connor: I can see that. What's so important? 

Clarke: Read it. 

Connor: You read it. 

Clarke picks it up to read.

Clarke: Attempted burglary at Greenwood Hall, home of Sir Reginald and Lady Walker. Says the thief managed to get into the safe, and it was a big one. American. 

Connor: That's Harry. 

Clarke: It's gotta be, innit?

Connor: I thought he'd taken early retirement. 

Clarke: Yeah, well, that's what he told us. Maybe he's decided to go solo. 

Connor: On our patch.

Clarke: Double-crossing bastard! Shall we go round to his place? 

Connor: No need to. We'll see him tomorrow, won't we, at the w*r games. 

Clarke: Yeah. We not gonna be able to do much with all that going on. 

Connor: Get him alone in the woods. We'll do plenty. Give me that. 

He looks at the article.

Connor: Yeah. That's Harry. 

Walker study. Simon is on the phone while Reginald paces behind him.

Simon: Thank you, Mr Cade. My father will be very grateful. Yes. I'm sure you can expect to hear from him. Goodbye. 

He hangs the phone up.

Reginald: Well? 

Simon: He's given me a name. Harry Markham. 

Reginald: Markham? There was an Eric Markham I used to know. One of my tenant farmers. 

Simon: Eric's the father, Harry's the son. Just got out of prison. Did three months for breaking and entering. 

Reginald: Three months? That's a very short sentence. 

Simon: Well, the judge must have been very impressed with him. 

Reginald: How sure are we he's our man? 

Simon: Cade says there are only half a dozen people in the country who could break into a safe like ours, and Markham is local. 

He stands up and goes over to his father.

Simon: What are we going to do? 

Reginald: Don't rush in, Simon. Whatever you do, don't rush in. 

Simon: Pa-

Reginald: Just let me think. 

Church. Beck is playing Jesu, Joy Of Man's Desiring on the organ. The vicar comes in and walks up behind him.

Vicar: I thought it must be you. 

Beck stops playing.

Beck: You don't mind, I hope, Vicar. 

Vicar: Not at all, no. When did you ever need to ask? 

Beck: It still surprises me. Such a fine instrument for such a small church. 

A woman with a cane, Hilda Pierce, walks out from the back of the church.

Vicar: Most of it is the player. Please, carry on. Don't mind me. 

Beck starts playing again.

Vicar: Good evening. 

The vicar walks on, passing Pierce in the aisle. Once he's gone, Pierce slowly approaches Beck. He sees her in the mirror in front of him and stops playing.

Pierce: German music? 

Beck: The greatest music in the world. 

Graveyard. Pierce and Beck are walking along together.

Pierce: Time for you to leave, Mr Beck. 

Beck: So soon? 

Pierce: We told you to be ready. 

Beck: I am. When? 

Pierce: Three days from now. 

Beck: You could have given me more warning. 

Pierce: Oh, I'm sure we could have rearranged the w*r to suit your needs. 

Beck: Point taken. But I'm not ready to go. Not quite yet. 

Pierce: I'm sorry? 

Beck: I'm in the middle of something. 

Pierce: Then you'll have to leave it. 

Beck: I can't. I'm sorry. Not now. 

Pierce: Are you going to tell me? 

Beck: Are you going to pretend you don't already know? 

Pierce: She was 36 years old. Unmarried. You knew her father. He worked here in Hastings. She worked in London. She was a personal secretary at Empire & European Foods. Her name was Agnes Browne. 

Beck: You never disappoint me, Miss Pearce. 

Pierce: You feel responsible. 

Beck: Yes. I do. That's the reason I can't oblige you until this business is finished. 

Pierce: You know you're disobeying orders? 

Beck: I also know there's nothing much you can do about it. 

Pierce: Be careful, Mr Beck. 

Beck: I'll keep my eyes open for you, Miss Pearce. 

Outside Home Guard headquarters. Sam is marching her troop of children, all wearing tin helmets, round a group of army vehicles.

Sam: Left. Left. Left. Left.

Brian (singing):  w*r is driving h*tler back but here's one way to win it. Just give the salvage boys the sack-

Children (singing): And see there's plenty in it.

Sam: All right, squad. Attention! 

They come to a halt.

Sam: Right. Now I'm sure you'll all agree salvage collection is just as hard work as Home Guard manoeuvres. 

Brian: It's harder. 

Sam: Absolutely, Brian. And that we're just as entitled to buns and lemonade. Right. Fall out. 

They head over to a refreshment table where drinks and buns have been set out.

Brian: Pass me one. 

Tim: Okay. 

Sam takes a bun as well.

Sam: Mmm.

Milner stands in Foyle's office.

Foyle (offscreen): Did you find him? 

Milner: No, sir. But I spoke to his sister Lucy. She asked after you. 

Foyle: Oh, did she? Not very flattering, I bet. I was involved in his arrest. 

Milner: Yes, I looked at his record. I'm surprised his sentence was so short. 

Foyle: Yeah, well, Stephen Beck defended him. Almost took the case apart. 

Milner: Almost, but not quite. 

Foyle: Well, there was definitely a sympathy vote from the judge. 

Foyle gets up from his desk.

Milner: Three months? 

Foyle: Mmm. Anyway, where we gonna to find him? 

Milner: Actually, you'll see him later. He's with the Home Guard. 

Foyle: Oh, right. I'll look out for him.

They leave the office together.

Milner: And would you let me know if he's got a cut on his hand? 

Foyle: A cut? 

Rivers intercepts them.

Rivers: Ah, Mr Foyle, sir. Brigadier Harcourt's compliments. He's sent you a driver. 

Foyle: What's happened to Sam? 

Rivers: Oh, she's gone off with those young salvage collectors. 

Devlin steps out to meet them.

Devlin: Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Devlin. Er, Devlin, this is Milner. Milner, Captain Devlin. 

They shake hands.

Milner: How do you do? I've heard a lot about you. 

Devlin: You've got my old office, I understand. 

Milner: Yes. 

Devlin: I miss it. Brigadier Harcourt suggested I might pick you up, sir. I take it you still don't drive. 

Foyle: Well, that's right. 

Devlin: Good to meet you, erm, Milner. 

They shake hands again.

Devlin and Foyle are driving along through the trees.

Devlin: You working on anything at the moment, sir? 

Foyle: Well, not very much if the truth be known. A burglary a couple of days ago at the Walker place. 

Devlin: Did they take very much? 

Foyle: Well, apparently not. They were frightened off before they could steal anything, but they managed to, er, drug a couple of dogs and open a pretty sophisticated American safe. Er, remind you of anybody? 

Devlin: Harry Markham. 

Foyle: Mmm. 

Devlin: He's out, isn't he? 

Foyle: He is. 

Devlin: Why'd he only get three months, sir? Judge got it wrong. Couldn't believe it when I heard. That lawyer of his. Not even English. 

Foyle: Well, that lawyer of his is a friend of mine, Devlin. 

Devlin: Sorry, sir, no disrespect, but, er, he made fools of us. They both did. 

Foyle: Well, it could have been worse. 

Devlin: I know, but, er, it makes you think. Harry Markham was a nasty piece of work to start with, but when you've been lying in a field hospital with your face in bandages, you can't see, don't know if you'll ever see. People like Markham should be sh*t. 

Foyle: Right. 

Devlin: Never mind, er, nearly there. 

Home Guard headquarters. Foyle sits at the table while others bustle around.

Harcourt: Where's the replacement radio? The number eighteen set from Ringford platoon. Ah, Philby. Not on your way yet? 

Philby: Just about to leave now, sir. 

Harcourt: You should be on your way to Chawleigh Camp. 

Philby: Yes, I know, sir. 

Simon Walker enters by a door in the background.

Harcourt: By the way, I had a call from the military police. Running out of personnel, would you believe it? They need you to set a couple of men on the lower wood on the Greenwood Estate.

Foyle spots Simon, who hasn't noticed him yet.

Philby: Sir.

Harcourt: It's to keep the public away. We can't have people wandering about where there's live amm*nit*on. 

Philby: Right, sir. 

Simon moves after Harcourt and Philby, then notices Foyle.

Simon: Oh, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Mr Walker. 

Simon: I was told you were here so I came to see you. I think I owe you an apology. 

Foyle: What for? 

Simon: Well, Father and I were talking and we realise we were wrong not have contacted you about what happened at the hall, and, well, really just to say that we're certain that nothing was taken. 

Foyle: Well, I'm very pleased to hear it. 

Simon turns and spots Philby coming back.

Simon: Hello, Philby. 

Philby: Oh. Hello, Simon. 

Simon: How's it going? 

Philby: I'm just about to join my men. 

Harcourt: Philby! This is temporary headquarters of Home Guard Defending Forces. I really don't think it should be open to civilians. 

Simon: Hello, I'm Simon Walker. You're on my father's land. 

He offers his hand, but Harcourt doesn't shake it.

Harcourt: Ah, but this is temporarily my land, Mr Walker. And you are trespassing. 

Simon: Right. (Sorry.)

He leaves.

Home Guard tent. Harry is smoking when Connor and Clarke come in.

Connor: Hello, Harry. 

Harry: Connor. What do you want? 

Connor: What d'you think? 

Harry: I don't know. 

Connor: We've been looking for you, Harry. You've been avoiding us. 

Harry: Why would I do that? 

Connor: You tell me. 

Harry: I haven't been avoiding you. 

He goes to leave the tent and the two of them step in front of him.

Connor: Been reading about you, Harry. 

Harry: What? 

Connor: In the newspaper. Greenwood Hall. Someone broke in there a couple of days ago. Wonder who that could have been. 

Harry: Nothing to do with me. 

Connor: No? Bloody great safe, that's what we heard. 

Clarke: Drugged the dogs, eh? Put 'em nicely to sleep. Always did have a soft spot, didn't you, Harry? See, if that had been Mike and me, dogs'd be d*ad. 

Connor: Have you had the police round, then? They must know it was you. 

Harry: I tell you, I don't know what you're talking about. 

He tries to leave again and Connor pushes him back.

Connor: What I'm talking about, an agreement we had, the three of us had. 

Clarke: An agreement, yeah. 

Connor: We work as a team. 

Harry: We weren't a team when I was being sent down. 

Connor: Yeah, well, that's your tough luck! 

Clarke: You're the one who got caught. 

Harry: Yeah, that's right. I got caught. I went down, and now I'm finished with it. I'm not interested any more. 

Connor: Yeah, that's what you told us, Harry. And we told you that was fine by us. But if you changed your mind, d'you remember? All for one. One for all. That's what we said. 

Clarke: See, I think he's forgotten. 

Connor: Yeah. I do, too. So, if you have changed your mind, Harry, you know what that means. It means it's just like the old days. 

Clarke: Three-way split. 

Connor: So why don't you tell us what you took from Greenwood Hall, and where you've got it stashed. 

Harry: You've got it all wrong. I had nothing to do with it. I never went near the place. 

Connor: You never were a good liar, Harry.

He kicks Harry in the guts and Harry doubles over.

Harry: Ah! Ah! 

Clarke grabs hold of Harry to hold him back.

Connor: You're with us, or you're against us. It's as simple as that. 

Harry: Oh, get away from me! 

He struggles against Clarke.

Connor: I don't think you're listening! 

Connor hits him, and Clarke shoves him into a folding table, which collapses.

Harry: Argh! 

Clarke: Where is it, Harry? 

He slams Harry's head against the ground.

Philby (offscreen): What's going on here? 

He's entered the tent behind them. Connor and Clarke pull Harry back to his feet.

Philby: Connor, Clarke, what do you think you're doing? 

Connor: Just a small disagreement, sir. Nothing serious. 

Philby: Well, I'm not going to have you scrapping like this. Not in uniform. Get round the front and join the others. 

He ducks back out of the tent.

Connor: I'd watch out if I was you. Get very lonely in the woods all on your own. Lot of live amm*nit*on around. 

He claps Harry on the back before he and Clarke leave.

A van drives through the woods, carrying a group of Home Guard with r*fles, including Harry, Connor and Clarke. It comes to a stop and Philby gets out from the passenger seat as they climb down.

Philby: All right. Gather round. The idea is to set up an observation post behind Chawleigh Camp looking down at the enemy from the ridge. We see everything they do. The camp is the Reds' bridgehead. So when the regulars move out, the brigadier knows when they're going and where. Got it? 

Clarke: Yes, sir. 

Connor is watching Harry.

Connor: We're right behind you. Sir. 

Philby: We're the eyes and ears. If there ever is an invasion, it's a vital role. All right, everyone. Form up. Single file. Hand signals only. Not you, Markham. I've got a special assignment. 

He leads Harry off with him.

Walker lounge. Alice is arranging flowers as Reginald comes in.

Alice: Are you going out? 

Reginald: Yes. 

Alice: But you said it was safer to stay in the house. 

Reginald: Safer for you. I thought I might keep an eye on things. It is my land. 

Alice: Would you like me to come? 

Reginald: No, no, no. I'll take the dogs. 

Alice: Is there something you're not telling me? 

Reginald: What? 

Alice: Well, ever since Simon got back you've been behaving so strangely. Is it something to do with your business? 

Reginald: I never discuss my business. You know that. 

Alice: But your business is your life! If you exclude me from that you exclude me from everything. 

Reginald: That's nonsense. 

Alice: Were you like this with Joyce? 

Reginald: Don't ask me about Joyce. 

Alice: Why not? I know how much she meant to you. I know how you must have felt, losing her. 

Reginald: I don't think you do. 

Alice: I know you'll never love me the way you loved her. 

Reginald opens the door to bring the dogs in.

Alice: I hate it here. I feel like I'm living in her shadow, and the worst thing is you never talk about her. You and Simon, you, you live in your own private world, and no matter what I do I'm not allowed in. Why can't we go back to London? We've got the flat. We were so, so happy there. 

Reginald: These are difficult times, Alice. Don't ask questions. Just trust me. Enjoy what we have. I'm going out. 

He kisses her on the check.

Countryside. Philby is leading his men along a dirt track through trees. Connor and Clarke leave the group and head off into the trees just before Philby stops and turns round.

Philby: Right-o. Now listen. We've got to get out of those trees onto the ridge. We're gonna need sn*per cover, so Connor and Clarke... Where the hell are they? Oh, well, I suppose they'll catch up. Snell. You can provide cover. Come on. 

They head out across a field. They've barely left the road behind when Captain Delvin pops up from behind cover.

Devlin: At last! Thought you'd never get here, Mr Philby. 

His men stand up behind him, aiming their r*fles.

Philby: What? 

Devlin: Don't know whether I'm meant to say 'bang' or 'hands up', but consider it said. Now, would you mind taking off your clothes? 

Home Guard HQ. One of the men is fiddling with a radio.

Harcourt: Still not working? For heaven's sake, man, get on with it! This is completely hopeless. Have to get a message to Divisional HQ. I don't suppose you've any ideas, Foyle? 

He turns to Foyle.

Foyle: Er, well, I don't have ideas, Brigadier. I'm only the referee. 

Field. One of Devlin's men, Prentice, stands guard over the group of captured Home Guard, now stripped of their uniforms aside from Philby.

Philby: How much longer do you propose to keep us here? I am a captain in the Home Guard, and you have no right. 

Outside the Home Guard HQ. One of the men is trying to fix the engine of one of the vehicles.

Harcourt: First the radio, now this! I don't know what the blue pencil's going on. Come on, private, we can't spend the whole exercise twiddling our thumbs here. I have to be at Divisional HQ. 

Foyle and Sam walk by behind him.

Foyle: Can we offer you a lift? 

Harcourt: You've got a car? 

Foyle: Follow me. 

A short distance away, Stephen Beck sits watching this from his car. He drives away.

Boundary point. Harry is on guard duty by the gate. He sets his r*fle and tin hat down.

Sam and Foyle are driving along with Harcourt in the back.

Harcourt: Faulty equipment everywhere. And where's the amm*nit*on? Chaps are lucky if they go out on a dusk-to-dawn patrol with a dozen rounds. 

They come to a halt at a Home Guard roadblock in front of a pub.

Foyle: Found the front, anyway. 

Harcourt: We're miles from the front. I say, what's this? Oh, splendid show. Taking no chances, eh? Real gumption. 

He gets out of the car.

Harcourt: Ah. Excellent work. What's your platoon? 

Devlin comes out from behind the trees as the men manning the roadblock all raise their r*fles.

Devlin: Sorry to inform you, Brigadier Harcourt, you've just been captured by the enemy. 

He goes over to Foyle's car.

Devlin: Mind getting out, please? 

Foyle: This your idea, Devlin? 

Foyle opens the door to get out.

Devlin: Don't worry, Brigadier, we'll inform your HQ. 

Harcourt: But your, your men are wearing Home Guard uniforms, Captain Devlin! Damn it, man, you're behind our lines. This is not in the plan. 

Devlin: Well, if Jerry does come, let's hope he remembers to bring the plan with him, right?

Harcourt: What's the point of the exercise if you don't play by the rules? 

Devlin: The point is to teach the Home Guard how to deal with the Germans. Lesson number one, don't believe everything you see. 

Harcourt: I hope your men realise that in the field the enemy would be entitled to sh**t them for wearing its uniforms. 

Devlin: Lesson number two, in this w*r it's the winners who'll decide who gets sh*t. 

Harcourt: Foyle, you're the referee. Tell him he can't do this. 

Foyle: Er, looks as if he already has. 

Devlin: We'll try to make this brief incarceration as pleasant as possible, sir. Landlord here pulls a good pint. 

Foyle: Look, er, I'm going to leave you to it, if you don't mind.

Harcourt: No, Foyle, you can't leave. 

Foyle: Well, if I stay I'd only have to arrest you. This pub should have closed an hour ago, you know? 

He gets back in the car.

Devlin: Take Brigadier Harcourt inside, will you, and, er, look after him. Be right back. 

Boundary point. Harry sits smoking. He turns around at the sound of a twig snapping, but doesn't see anyone.

Field. Philby and his group are still under the watch of Devlin's man, Prentice. There's the sound of a g*n in the difference.

Philby: What's your name? 

Prentice: Prentice, sir. 

Philby: Did you hear that? That was a sh*t. There shouldn't be any sh**ting in this zone. 

There's a second g*n.

Philby: For heaven's sake, Prentice. Whatever your captain's planning he'll, he'll have done it by now. I think we should find out where that sh**ting's coming from. The game is over. Will you please let us go? 

Boundary point. Someone fires a revolve, sh**ting Harry through the forehead.

Markham farm. Lucy walks through the cottage.

Lucy: Harry? 

Boundary point. Foyle and Milner stand over Harry's body, while Sam waits by the car. Philby and Prentice are there too.

Milner: Single b*llet through the head. Went right through. An accident? 

Foyle: Plenty of g*n about, but this was the demarcation point. There shouldn't have been any live amm*nit*on here. How many sh*ts did he say? 

Milner: Three. 

Foyle: What happened to the other two, then? 

Milner: And how did the k*ller miss twice? Look at the burn marks. He must have been right on top of him. Why didn't he make a run for it? 

He turns to Philby and Prentice.

Milner: You definitely heard three sh*ts? 

Philby: Yes. About half a minute apart. I knew there was something wrong straight away, but by the time I'd got here... Poor boy. I gave him the order to guard the perimeter. Well, you were there when the brigadier requested it. This was my fault. 

Devlin arrives to join them.

Devlin: Sir, I've just heard. Can't believe it. We were only just talking about him. Almost seems like fate. 

Foyle: Yes, doesn't it? 

Devlin: Mind I take a look at the body? 

Foyle: Well, I'd rather you didn't. 

Devlin: Well, I only want to help, sir. 

Foyle: Well, you could help by telling me what you did after you left the brigadier. 

Devlin: What? You don't think I could have had anything to do with all this? 

Foyle: Well, you know I have to ask. 

Devlin: I was heading over to Divisional HQ to make my report. 

Foyle: By car? 

Devlin: No, sir. I thought I could make it on foot. Then I heard about the accident, so I turned round. Came straight back here. 

Foyle: Well, whatever it is, it's not an accident. 

Devlin: No, sir. I can see that now. 

Foyle: Right. Thank you. 

Devlin: Sir. 

He leaves.

Milner: Do you want me to check his story, sir? 

Foyle: I should. 

He heads back over to Sam by the car.

Sam: Where to, sir? 

Foyle: Greenwood Farm. 

Markham cottage. Lucy is in tears at the table.

Lucy: You don't care about Harry, Mr Foyle, because all you ever wanted was to see him in jail. You even lied in court and you knew what was going on, and you didn't have any evidence against him. You had no real evidence, so you just had to cheat! 

Foyle: Your brother served three months for a crime he committed. 

Lucy: I suppose the end justifies the means. Is that it? 

Foyle: I've never believed that. 

Lucy: I don't know what I'm going to do now without him. I don't know what I'm going to do! 

Foyle: I'd like to help. 

Lucy: How can you help me? 

Foyle: Well, finding out who k*lled him would be a good start. Did you know that he'd started burglary again? 

Lucy: No. He told me he'd stopped. 

Foyle: But you did know that he'd broken into Greenwood Hall? 

Lucy: Yes, I knew. I knew. God, he promised me he was going to give up thieving, Mr Foyle. And then to think that- God, whatever he was doing at the hall, I know he was doing it for someone else because a man came to the house. It was- it was the same day of the break-in. 

Foyle: Did you see him? 

Lucy: No, but, oh, but he left this. 

She goes over to get the slip of paper Harry tucked into the book. Foyle unfolds it and is silent a moment.

Foyle: Any idea what he did with, er, whatever it was he took? 

Lucy: He told me it was being looked after by friends. 

Foyle: Is that all he said? 

Lucy: Oh, something about them being busy, but he could trust them. 

Foyle: Which friends might these be? 

Lucy: Oh, there were these two people that he used to see all the time before he went to prison. 

Foyle: And who are they? 

Lucy: Connor. Michael Connor and Albert Clarke. 

Police interview room. Milner is questioning Connor and Clarke.

Connor: We had nothing to do with it. 

Milner: You have three convictions. Burglary and as*ault. Is that how you knew him? You worked together? According to your platoon commander, Mr Philby, you disappeared in the wood, and that was just a few minutes before Harry Markham was sh*t d*ad. 

Connor: Yeah, we disappeared. Well, what d'you think we're gonna do? Go traipsing around the south coast on some stupid w*r game? 

Clarke: But we never saw him. We never went near him. 

Milner: You'd already given him a beating. 

Connor: It was a gentleman's disagreement. 

Milner: Did you want to work with him? 

Connor: Well, yeah. We discussed it. He didn't want any part of it. He said he'd had enough. 

Milner: And you didn't believe him. 

Connor: Oh, come on, you know as well as I do that he burgled Sir Reginald Walker's place. 

Clarke: Had to be him, it's obvious. 

Connor: Look, we had nothing to do with it. And you have got nothing on us. So, what you gonna do, eh? Why don't you plant some more false evidence and hope this time a judge doesn't notice? 

Milner leaves.

Empire & European Foods office building. There's the sound of a knock.

Reginald Walker's office.

Philby: Sir Reginald, I have to speak to you. 

Reginald: I'm very busy, Philby. What do you want? 

Philby: I have to talk to you about this man Harold Markham. 

Reginald: What about him? 

Philby: He was k*lled. He was k*lled in your grounds. I ordered him to stay on guard. 

Reginald: Somebody accidentally let off a g*n and k*lled him. 

Philby: That's not what the police say. 

Reginald: You know, Philby, maybe you should get away for a while. I've noticed recently you seem to have been under a lot of strain. 

Philby: Well, this business in Switzerland. 

Reginald: Of course. But we've broken no laws. We've done nothing wrong. 

Philby: So you say. 

Reginald: And you think otherwise? 

Philby hesitates for a moment.

Philby: No. 

Reginald: You're a good man, Philby, and after the w*r you'll be a very wealthy one. But you need to concentrate more on the wider canvas. As it happens I have just the assignment for you. 

He picks up the phone.

Reginald: Miss Patterson, could you book a call to our New York office? 

Patterson (over phone): Yes, sir.

Stephen Beck's office. He packs away his court wig.

Court building staircase. Foyle heads up the stairs.

Beck's office. Foyle enters.

Beck: Christopher. 

Foyle: Stephen. 

Beck: Er, can I help? 

Foyle: You remember Harry Markham? 

Beck: Markham. 

He chuckles.

Beck: I remember him well, of course. I, I'm sure we both do. 

Foyle: When did you last see him? 

Beck: Oh, about three or four days ago. I... visited him at his farm. 

Foyle: Why was that? 

Beck: You need to ask me that after what happened? 

Foyle: Well, I'm not talking about what happened last year. I'm talking about, er, now and the events leading up to his death. 

Beck: This is a m*rder investigation? 

Foyle: It is. 

Beck: I... was interested in Markham because I was concerned about him. After he came out of prison I saw him... occasionally. 

Foyle: You'd be surprised to learn, then, that on the same day you went to the farm, he broke into the house of a local industrialist? 

Beck: Yes. I would be very surprised. 

Foyle: And I'd be very offended if I thought that you of all people would imagine that I wouldn't know when you weren't telling me the truth. 

After a moment, Beck nods.

Beck: All right. Markham was working for me. 

Churchyard. Beck and Foyle sit on a bench under a tree.

Beck: I left Germany in February '35, but what you may not know is that if I had stayed, I would almost certainly have been k*lled because I had been speaking out against the n*zi, and in the end I was denounced. Since then I have tried to fight my own w*r. I'm collecting information about English businessmen who are cosy with the n*zi. In particular, Sir Reginald Walker of Empire & European Foods. You know what they do? 

Foyle: They make margarine. 

Beck: Yes, amongst other things, but let's stick with margarine for the moment. Germany has lost access to all sorts of food resources. Edible oils and fats are in short supply, and without them you can't make a whole range of foods. You can't cook. You can't make soap or detergent. You can't even make margarine. So if the food system breaks down, it all breaks down. You won't win a w*r if you can't feed your people. Now, a week ago Simon Walker was in Geneva dealing directly with an SS officer working for the Reichs Kommissariat. 

Foyle: Right. Well, if they and the company are still dealing with the Germans, then they're contravening the Trading With the Enemy Act and they face prison. 

Beck: But you would need evidence. 

Foyle: Which you sent Markham to get? 

Beck: Yes. 

Foyle: And the evidence is what? 

Beck: There was a letter Simon Walker brought with him from Switzerland. It was an agreement between Empire & European Foods and, and the Reichs Kommissariat. It was, in essence, a trading agreement between Sir Reginald Walker and the Third Reich. 

Foyle: How do you know about that? 

Beck: It doesn't matter. Let me show you something. 

He gets up from the bench and leads Foyle to the gravestone of Anna Beck, died 12 March 1936.

Beck: My dear wife Anna did not live long after she came home. I've never spoken to you of my son. He would be the same age as your son, but we left him in Germany. We... lost him to the n*zi. 

Foyle: I'm sorry. 

Beck: I don't ask for your pity, Christopher, just your understanding. Don't be surprised if my sense of morality is a little frayed at the edges. 

Foyle: This, er, letter would have been enough, do you think? 

Beck: I believe so. 

Foyle: Is this what he found in the safe? 

Beck: Certainly Markham found something. Whatever it was I believe they k*lled him to get it back. 

They walk away.

Reginald Walker's office. Foyle stands before his desk.

Reginald: Are you really sure it's m*rder? There were manoeuvres in progress. Plenty of room for error. 

Foyle: Well, er, the evidence suggests it's highly unlikely to have been an accident. 

Reginald: I don't suppose it has anything to do with me. 

Foyle: Oh, well, on the contrary, it, er, might have a great deal to do with you, since we believe it, er, was Markham who broke into your house. 

Reginald: Really? 

Foyle: And the sh*t wounds we found in his shoulder and on his back, er, rather give the lie to your son's claim to have fired in the air. 

Reginald: It was pitch dark. Nobody knew quite what had happened. I think you should be careful what you say, Chief Superintendent. My son did not lie. 

Foyle: Still rather puzzled why you, er, didn't want to report the break-in. 

Reginald: I've already explained. 

Foyle: Wasn't, erm, anything to do with, er, certain papers that might have been taken from the safe? 

Reginald: Papers? 

Foyle: Relating to your son's visit to Switzerland. 

Reginald: Nothing was taken. I told you that. 

He stands up from his desk.

Reginald: Let me tell you something, Mr Foyle. You may be at w*r, but I'm not because business is bigger than w*r. I can give you a dozen British companies, household names, that are involved in Germany. Petrol, food, automobiles. Do you know, since the n*zi marched into Paris sales of cars in France have actually increased? And why not? The b*mb that are falling on London now are being dropped by planes which were designed by our so-called friends. w*r doesn't matter. You and I don't matter. Business will go on. 

Foyle: Well, thank you for that fascinating insight. One of your directors, er, Philby, erm, he was with the Home Guard. How do I get to speak to him? 

Reginald: I'm very sorry. He left just a little while ago. You've missed him. 

Foyle leaves.

Greenwood Hall. The four child salvage collectors are standing on their pram to see over the wall. There's smoke coming from around the side of the house.

Brian: We have to go round the back. 

Tim: Why? 

Brian: I dunno. It's just what happens when people have these great big houses. You just go round the back.

Tim: You know what Miss Stewart said. 

Brian: What? 

Tim: We're not meant to respass. 

Brian: Respass? 

Tim: Trespass, I dunno.

Brian: We're not trespassing. Anyway, look at their stuff they're burning. It's a waste! Look, if we don't collect salvage, we're never gonna win the prize. Come on, then. 

The three boys climb over, leaving the girl with them behind.

Brian: Keep watch. 

They run towards the smoke.

Reginald's study. He and Simon bring out stacks of paperwork to add to the bundles on the desk.

Simon: Are you sure about this, Pa? 

Reginald: I would always have preferred to have kept nothing in writing. 

Simon: What about after the w*r? 

Reginald: There are copies in Switzerland. All this must go. 

Simon: You're not panicking? 

Reginald: Not panicking, no, but there are certain pressures on us. This man Foyle. The death of Markham. You don't know anything about that, do you? 

Simon: No, of course not. I needed him alive. 

Reginald: Exactly. We both did. 

Alice comes into the room.

Alice: What are you two up to? 

Reginald: Nothing. 

Simon walks past her with a stack of papers.

Outside. Simon adds the papers to the blaze burning in a metal bin. There are more bundles on the ground around it. As he heads back to the house, the boys peer out from the bushes. They run out and start grabbing papers to carry off.

Study. Simon enters.

Simon: How much more? 

Reginald: We're almost done. 

Alice is looking out of the window.

Alice: You seem to have invited some children to your bonfire party. 

Reginald: What?

Reginald hurries over to join her and sees the boys.

Reginald: Simon, you bloody fool! 

Simon: What? 

Reginald: Stop them! 

Simon: How? 

Reginald: Set the dogs on them! 

Alice: You can't be serious! They're children, for God's sake! 

Reginald: They're thieves, Alice, and I'm protecting my property. 

Alice: But you can't, not like this.

Reginald: You don't understand. 

Simon heads out of the study.

Alice: No, I don't! What's so important about these papers? 

Reginald: I've already told you, you stupid woman, it's my business! 

Outside. The boys are running along carrying papers.

Brian: Come on, quickly. 

Tim: I'm coming. 

Brian: No, you're not!

Behind them, Simon lets the dogs out through the front door.

Simon: Go on!

Brian: Faster! Hurry up.

Tim: I'm coming. 

Brian: No, you're not. Hurry up.

Tim: I'm trying as hard as I can. 

The dogs run across the grass towards them as they run back to the wall.

Brian: Just get to the wall.

Tim: I'm trying.

Girl: Watch out for the dogs! 

At the back of the trio, Tim looks back at the dogs.

Brian: Get over the wall. 

They toss their papers over.

Tim: Okay.

Brian: Well, quickly, then. 

Tim: I am! 

Brian and the other boy are over the wall, but Tim is still on the other side.

Brian: Quickly, get up.

The dogs catch up and Tim cries out in pain.

Tim: The papers. 

Brian: Forget 'em. 

Brian helps him over the wall.

Tim: Ow. Ooh. Ooh. Ow.

The other two boys lower him to the ground.

Brian: You all right? 

Tim's left leg is covered in blood where he's been badly bitten.

Tim: Ooh. Ah! My leg. 

At the top of the bundle of documents beside him is the letter of agreement.

Library. Beck and Pierce are separately reading papers. The librarian gets up to leave the room, and Beck moves to stand closer to Pierce. They talk without looking up at each other.

Pierce: I can't give you any more time, Mr Beck. 

Beck: I have a feeling my business in England may already be over. When am I leaving? 

Pierce: Saturday night. If I could rearrange the w*r to suit your own schedule, I would gladly do it, but I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. 

Beck: It isn't just about a schedule, Miss Pierce. Sir Reginald Walker and his son have rearranged my entire life. 

Pierce: And now there are other people's lives at stake. People who will fly you to Germany, the people who will meet you. The people who have agreed to help you. 

Beck: Yes. 

There's the sound of the door, and they look up to see the librarian returns.

Pierce: We can't wait any longer. 

Beck: Just promise me one thing. This business with the Walkers. You won't give up! 

Pierce: There's a Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle working on the case. 

Beck: Yes. 

Pierce: He won't give up. 

Foyle's office. Foyle is looking at newspaper clippings. Milner knocks on the open door.

Milner: Sir?

Foyle: You finished? 

Milner: Yes, sir. I spoke to the Home Guard about Devlin's movements before the sh*ts were fired. 

Foyle: And? 

Milner: There are still about ten minutes unaccounted for. He could have made his way to Divisional HQ as he said, but he could have doubled back. 

Foyle: Right. See this? 

He shows Milner one of the clippings.

Milner: London secretary falls to her death. 

Foyle: Yeah, but she fell from the Empire & European Foods building. Dig out what you can about it, will you? 

Milner: Yes, sir. It says her father lives in Hastings. 

Foyle: Good place to start. 

Sam is driving along. She spots the four salvage collectors and stops nearby. Tim is laying in the pram with the papers.

Brian: You're okay. It's not that bad. Okay?

Sam gets out of the car.

Sam: Oh, crikey. Let me see. 

She looks at Tim's wound and hisses.

Sam: Ooh! Wounded in action. 

Tim: Yes, miss. 

Sam: You were salvaging paper. Where? 

Brian: We were at this hall, at Sir Reginald Walker's place. He set his dogs on us. They were German dogs. 

Tim: Roverman. 

Sam: Roverman? I think you mean Doberman. Tim, we're gonna have to drive you to hospital. Have you told his parents? 

Brian: No. If you think that's bad, you should see what his dad would do. 

Sam: He's gonna have to know sometime. Come on. Help me get him into the car. 

Brian: Here we go. 

Greenwood Hall. Alice is on her way up the stairs and meets Reginald coming down.

Reginald: I just want to say that I'm extremely sorry that I spoke to you in the way that I did. I will of course see that the child is all right, and give some sort of compensation if necessary. It was a complete loss of control. It will never happen again. 

Alice: It wasn't control that you lost. It was the pretence. 

Reginald: I'm sorry? 

Alice: That you're a civilised man. 

She continues on past him up the stairs.

Courtroom. Arthur Browne is setting out papers.

Milner (offscreen): Mr Browne?

Browne: Yes? Sergeant Milner, isn't it? 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

Browne: I never forget a witness. The pottery workers. One strangled the other with a belt. 

Milner: I've come to talk to you about your daughter, Agnes. I'm sorry about your loss. 

Browne: I've got nothing to say about Agnes. 

Milner: She worked as a secretary at Empire & European Foods in London. 

Browne: Yes.

Milner: And there was an accident.

Browne: That's what they said, yes. 

Milner: Did you not believe them? 

Browne: I've spent my whole life working for justice. Well, the police investigated, and they say she fell. And that's the justice that I got. My Agnes would never have fallen out of a window. She was scared of heights. If the window had been open, she wouldn't have gone near. 

Milner: Did you tell the police this? 

Browne: Of course I told them. But it's a big company. Big business. Sir Reginald Walker. They didn't want any scandal. 

Milner: You didn't talk to anyone? 

Browne: I talked to Mr Beck. Of course, he felt bad about it. If it wasn't for him she wouldn't have been there. He said there was nothing I could do. There was no evidence. No witnesses. And he'd know, wouldn't he? 

Milner: Stephen Beck knew your daughter? 

Browne: Got her the job. He saw it advertised and gave her a reference. They were very close, the two of them. Friends. It wasn't his fault. But I wish she'd never met him. If it wasn't for Mr Beck she'd still be here. 

Milner: Thank you. 

He leaves.

Foyle's office. He's at his desk as Sam comes rushing in.

Sam: Sorry I'm late, sir. 

Foyle: Where have you been? 

Sam: I've been at the hospital. 

Foyle: You all right? 

Sam: Yes. I was visiting a friend. Tim Howard. One of the salvage boys. He was at Greenwood Hall yesterday evening, and you wouldn't believe it, but Sir Reginald Walker set his dogs on them. Tim had been badly bitten. 

Foyle: What were they up to? 

Sam: They were collecting paper. Sir Reginald was burning it by the ton, so they took some and he went berserk. D'you know what they took? D'you know where it is? 

Sam: Yes. 

The four kids are pushing their pram full of salvage along. Tim is now walking with a crutch. They stop outside a shed. Sam, Foyle and Milner drive up behind them and get out of the car.

Sam: I'm afraid there's quite a bit of it. The children have been bringing their stuff over for months. 

Foyle: Hello, Brian. 

Brian: Good morning, sir. 

Foyle: Been busy? 

Brian: Tim nearly lost his leg. It was eaten by dogs. 

Foyle: Yeah. So I heard. So, we need to find one or two of the papers that you took from the big house. Know where they are? 

Brian: No. 

Tim: There's loads. 

Foyle: Any of it, er, been collected yet? 

Brian: No. We need to keep them till we get the prize for collecting the most salvage. If we don't, they'll never know how much we got. 

Foyle: All right. Would you know where you've put it? 

Brian: Yeah. I'll show you. Through here. 

Sam: How's the leg, Tim? 

Tim: Getting better. 

The boys move some wood and corrugated iron from in front of the doorway to the shed. Inside is a vast heap of papers along with various other types of scrap.

Foyle: Right. Let's get started. 

Brian climbs atop the heap of papers.

Brian: We're definitely gonna win this prize. 

Tim: And the chocolate! 

Milner and Foyle start looking at papers.

Markham farm. Lucy is arranging vegetables in a basket when Simon comes through the gate behind her.

Simon: Lucy. 

Lucy: Mr Walker. 

Simon: Just wanted to say how sorry I was to hear about your brother. 

Lucy: Thank you.

Simon: First your father and now him. You must feel very much on your own. 

Lucy: Well, you know- 

Simon: Look, if there's anything I can do to help. Now, there are some things we have to discuss. 

Lucy: Can I offer you some tea? 

Simon: Mmm. Thank you. 

Cottage kitchen. Lucy pours them both cups of tea.

Simon: I realise it's very difficult, but I do have to talk to you about the matter of the rent. Your brother left you six months behind. 

Lucy: I'm not planning to stay. I'm gonna move on. 

Simon: Well, that doesn't help with the debt. Now, the last thing I want to do is put you under pressure, especially at a time like this. 

Lucy: Mr Walker, I don't know what I can do, because I don't have any money. 

Simon: I want to help. Now, I don't suppose you ever... 

Lucy: What? 

Simon: I don't suppose you ever saw anything in your brother's possession that didn't belong to him?

Lucy: No. 

Simon: I'm talking about a box. About this big. It's not very valuable, but it belonged to my mother before she died, and it was taken from the house. 

Lucy: You don't know it was Harry that broke in. 

She turns away and sits down at the table with her back to him.

Simon: Well, no, we don't know that for certain, but it does seem more than likely. 

Lucy: I never saw anything. 

Simon: Lucy, I want to help you. 

He sets his tea down and starts massaging her shoulders, leaning close.

Simon: You're not helping me. We can forget about the debt. I can help you start again. 

Lucy: (Thank you.)

He puts his hands around her neck as if to strangle her, and she struggles against him.

Simon: But I want it back, and if you try to sell it, I promise you you'll end up just like Harry.

He kisses her, then lets her go and moves to leave.

Simon: Thanks for the tea. 

Greenwood Hall. Reginald is coming down the stairs, and sees the cellar door standing open. He hurries over to it and goes down into the cellar.

Reginald: Simon? 

He steps through into another section of the cellar, where Simon stands gazing at a collection of n*zi paraphernalia.

Reginald: What are you doing down here? 

Simon: Passing the time. 

Reginald: You shouldn't be down here. You left the door open. 

Simon: You worried about your new wife? Is that it? You needn't be. She's left you. There's a letter on your desk. I put her in a taxi. 

He walks around, looking at the collection.

Simon: We should have spent more time in Germany. Mummy loved it there, didn't she? All those holidays before the w*r when we were a family. 

Reginald: Simon-

Simon: No. People like us, people like who you used to be, we're the strong ones. We're the ones who will make the new England. 

Reginald backs out and leaves.

Beck's office. He's packing books into a bag as Foyle arrives.

Foyle: You're leaving? 

Beck: I'm afraid so. 

Foyle: Is this, er, what you wanted? 

He holds out the letter of agreement and Beck takes it. He starts to read, then looks up at Foyle.

Beck: You know what this says? 

Foyle: Well, my German's, er, not quite up to it. 

Beck: And it is agreed, in return for full cooperation, the development of new food products, all property and assets previously seized will be returned to Empire & European Foods by the German Reich subsequent to... et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. It is unambiguous. 

Foyle: Would seem to be. 

Beck: How did you get this? 

Foyle: With difficulty. 

Beck: Thank you. 

Foyle: Well. Thank you. 

He takes the letter back from Beck and tucks it into a pocket.

Foyle: If I'm to do my job, how can I let you leave? 

Beck: Mmm. I'm sorry? 

Foyle: Well, you've instigated a burglary, which is against the law. The man you, er, recruited to commit the burglary has been m*rder. 

Beck: You think I k*lled him? 

Foyle: Well, I think you're responsible for his death in much the same way as you're responsible for the death of Agnes Browne, the woman you put into Empire & European Foods. A lot of people seem to, er, lose their lives in close proximity to you. 

Beck: I told you. I'm fighting a w*r. 

Foyle: Which, er, makes your behaviour ethically acceptable? The n*zi might claim the same. 

Beck: I do what I have to. 

Foyle: Help me understand why you shouldn't pay for this in exactly the same way that anyone else might have to. 

Beck: You're right. I will try and help you if I can. Please. Come with me. 

An office full of books. Pierce stands by the window.

Beck: This lady is, er, Hilda Pierce. Huh! At least that's what she calls herself. I now work for her. 

Pierce: Mr Foyle. 

Beck: Can we tell him? 

Pierce: No. 

Beck: But I think we will, anyway. Miss Pierce represents an organisation which is quite new to this country, but it can be briefly described as overseas intelligence. They are sending me back to Germany because I still have contacts with the Communist and Socialist groups, and my job is to help form a resistance. 

Pierce: Mr Beck leaves tomorrow night. 

Beck: It's extremely unlikely that I will return. Agents such as myself do not last long. 

Foyle: What about the letter? 

Beck: Miss Pierce will deal with that. I have every faith in her. There is one other thing you should know. I once told you that I had been denounced, and that was the reason why I had to leave. It was my son who denounced me. There was a boy he had met. An English boy, who was even more fanatical and anti-Semitic than the n*zi. His name, this boy, was Simon Walker. Now do you understand? You've been a good friend to me, Christopher. I will miss our fishing trips together. I will miss you. 

He leaves. Foyle puts the letter down for Pierce.

Foyle: Don't let him down. 

He leaves as well.

Foyle's office. Devlin is there to speak with him.

Devlin: I'm rejoining my unit. We're being sent to North Africa. 

Foyle: Well, good luck. 

Devlin: Thank you. Sir, I, I want to say... I'm sorry about Markham. 

Foyle: Sorry that he's d*ad, or sorry about what happened six months ago? 

Devlin: Would I need to apologise for that? 

Foyle: Well, you tell me. 

Devlin: He was guilty, sir. 

Foyle: Well, yes, he was found guilty of breaking and entering, but, er, the theft charge had to be dropped. 

Devlin: Did it? 

Foyle: Yes. 

Devlin: Why, sir? 

Foyle: The necklace that we submitted as primary evidence had to be withdrawn. 

Devlin: Who withdrew it? 

Foyle: I did. 

Devlin: Why? 

Foyle: Because, Devlin, it turned out to be you who took the necklace from the house he'd broken into. It was you who planted it in Markham's own house. You were so determined to see the man jailed that you wrecked the case against him to the point the judge almost set him free. You perverted the course of justice. And what's more, he might still be alive if it hadn't been for your unforgivable interference. 

Devlin: Even though I was in France when the case came to court... why didn't you tell me what had happened? 

Foyle: Because I chose not to disclose these details to the court or to you. He was guilty. He was guilty despite the evidence, not because of it. You had chosen to fight for your country and were no longer around. It seemed to serve no purpose. 

Devlin: You could have had me charged. 

Foyle: Yeah. 

Devlin: You still could. 

Foyle: Yeah. I think you should go, don't you? 

Devlin salutes before leaving.

Devlin: Sir. 

Church. The organ is playing. The salvage collectors singing in the congregation, along with Sam, Milner and Foyle, and Hilda Pierce.

♪ No hobgoblin nor foul fiend

♪ Can daunt his spirit

♪ He knows he at the end

♪ Shall life inherit

Foyle is watching Pierce in the row ahead of him.

♪ Then fancies fly away

♪ He'll fear not what men say

♪ He'll labour night and day to be a pilgrim

♪ A-men 

Vicar: I want to dedicate today's service to Stephen Beck, who played the organ here on many occasions, but who was forced to leave our community quite suddenly due to an illness in his family. He will be missed. 

Outside. The congregation file out past the vicar.

Vicar: Thank you for all your hard work. Maybe we can get together, er, perhaps Wednesday night, to work out the fine details? I'll see you then.

Woman: See you then.

Milner: I understand that Devlin has rejoined his unit, sir. 

Foyle: Yes, that's right. 

Milner: He's not a suspect? 

Foyle: No, I think we can safely rule him out of the picture. So your job's safe. 

The group of salvage collectors have reached the vicar.

Vicar: So, you won the competition. 

Sam: Yes, that's right. It was chocolate all round. 

Brian: I've eaten mine. 

Vicar: It was well-deserved. 

Sam: Yes. They've been busy little bees, haven't you?

Tim: Yeah. 

Behind them, Foyle looks thoughtful.

Sam: Come on, then. 

Tim: Bye. 

Brian: Bye.

Sam: Bye. 

Vicar: Goodbye. 

Man: Bye.

The vicar shakes hands with Foyle.

Vicar: Good morning.

Foyle: Good morning.

Pierce walks up behind him as the vicar heads back into the church.

Pierce: Mr Foyle. I thought I should give you the bad news. 

Foyle: Beck? 

Pierce: No, no, he's all right as far as we know. About the letter. 

Foyle: What about it? 

Pierce: Didn't work. Should have. Under normal circumstances it would have, but Sir Reginald Walker has been more clever than we thought. Of course he's making huge profits out of the n*zi, but at the same time, he's managed to persuade the British government he can use his contacts to their advantage. He passes on low-grade information. They turn a blind eye. Believe me, I made sure the letter went to the right people. They just didn't want to know. 

Foyle: So he's, um, trading with the enemy with the Government's unofficial blessing, is he? 

Pierce: Well, elements within the government, anyway. At the end of the day, it's just a piece of paper. That's what they say. It isn't enough. 

Foyle: What more do they want? 

Pierce: They didn't say. But I'm afraid, in the absence of any further evidence, Sir Reginald Walker is in the clear. 

Foyle: Well, I appreciate your telling me. Thank you for taking the trouble. 

Pierce: I thought I owed it to Stephen Beck. And it occurred to me that you might not want to give up. Walker has his supporters, but there are plenty of people who dislike him as much as you and I. 

Markham farm. Foyle and Sam stand watching as Lucy opens up the beehive.

Lucy: There is something. 

She lifts out the box, wrapped up in a scarf, and brings it over to Foyle.

Lucy: How did you know it would be there? 

Foyle: Well, I didn't. It's my driver who knows about these things. 

Sam: Do I, sir? 

Foyle: Yep. But your brother told you. 

Lucy: Did he? No. He told me it was being looked after by friends. 

Foyle: Yeah, friends who were...

Lucy: Oh, busy bees! 

Greenwood Hall. Lucy unwraps the box to show Simon and Reginald.

Simon: Where did you find it? 

Lucy: It was in the beehive. I was just telling the bees about Harry, 'cause you, you have to do that when there's been a death, and, yeah, that was where it was. 

Simon: You didn't tell anyone? 

Lucy: No. You sure it's not valuable? It's so beautiful. 

Reginald: It has sentimental value. Thank you for returning it to us. 

Lucy: I'll see myself out. 

She leaves. Simon follows her as far as the doorway, then turns back.

Simon: There you are, Pa, we got it back. We're in the clear. 

Outside. Foyle and Milner stand talking next to a police van.

Foyle: Chances are it will work.

Milner: No reason why not. Oh, sir. Here she comes. 

Lucy comes out of the house and nods to them.

Inside. Reginald looks up at the sound of the door. Foyle and Milner walk in.

Reginald: Mr Foyle. I didn't hear you announced. What are you doing here? 

Foyle: Well, I'm, er, here to confirm your property has been safely returned to you. And, er, to arrest your son for the m*rder of Harry Markham and Agnes Browne. 

Reginald: I beg your pardon! 

Simon: What are you talking about? 

Reginald: That's complete nonsense! 

Simon: I didn't k*ll Markham. I had every reason to want him alive. 

Foyle: Well, that's right, erm, because he'd stolen that. 

Simon: Where's your proof? 

Foyle: Well, you are. On the day of the m*rder, for example, it wasn't me you were looking for at, er, the Home Guard headquarters, it was him. 

Flashback to Simon arriving at the HQ.

Harcourt: Running short of personnel, would you believe it? They need you to place a couple of men on the outskirts of the lower wood on the Greenwood Estate.

Philby: Sir.

Harcourt: It's to keep the public away. We can't have people wandering about where there's live amm*nit*on. 

Philby: Right, sir. 

Simon: Oh, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Mr Walker. 

Simon: I was told you were here so I came to see you. I think I owe you an apology. 

Foyle (voiceover): I mean, you didn't even know I'd be there, which is why you were very surprised to see me, even though you tried to pretend you weren't. Er, you were looking for Markham

Harcourt (offscreen): Mr Foyle.

Foyle (voiceover): And Philby. 

Simon (offscreen): Philby!

Foyle (voiceover): You persuaded Philby to put Markham on guard duty on your estate, so that you'd know exactly where he was, and that he'd be on his own.

Philby: I'm just about to join my men. 

Foyle (voiceover): And, er, as an employee of yours, er, Philby felt obliged to do it.

Greenwood Hall.

Foyle: And since he's the one man who can implicate you in the death, erm, it's probably the reason he's not around at the moment. Where have you posted him? 

Reginald: He's at our American office. 

Simon: Markham was a thief. He stole from us, but I had no reason to k*ll him. 

Foyle: Well, and you didn't intend to, did you? Lots of games going on that afternoon. There were blanks and live amm*nit*on used in the Home Guard exercise, and you used blanks and live amm*nit*on in the game that, er, you were playing with Markham. 

Flashback to Harry smoking at the boundary point. Simon emerges from the trees and sh**t a blank towards him, making him flinch.

Simon: Hello, Harry. 

Harry: Mr Walker. 

He goes for his r*fle where he's left it propped up.

Simon: I wouldn't do that if I were you. The last sh*t I fired at you was a blank. This one's real. 

Harry: What are you doing, Mr Walker? 

Simon: Russian roulette. That gives you a one in six chance. 

He fires another blank at Harry from close up. Harry yells and ducks away.

Simon: Lucky. 

Harry: Bloody hell! 

Simon: The box you stole from my father's safe. I want to know where it is, and you're not gonna have too many chances to tell the truth.

Harry: You're making a mistake. It wasn't me. 

Simon: This next b*llet could be the one. Not just a bang, but the one. 

Harry: You won't do it. I never went anywhere near. You're making a mistake. 

Simon: Gambling man, are you, Harry? 

Harry: Ah, you're mad. 

Simon: Well, let's try again. 

He spins the chamber.

Harry: Simon, please. 

Simon sh**t him through the head, then jerks back in surprise.

Foyle (voiceover): You didn't mean to k*ll him, did you? He got the live round before you got the information. You'd rather have known where he'd hidden the box.

Greenwood Hall.

Foyle: Three sh*ts, half a minute apart. Only one b*llet hole because there was only one live b*llet. The other two were blanks which produced the scorch marks on his face. 

Reginald turns to look at Simon.

Reginald: Simon. 

Simon: I'm afraid it's true, Pa. 

Reginald: You k*lled him. 

Simon: It happened like he said. I didn't mean to. But I'm strong. I don't care what happens to me. The business will go on, and when the Germans win the w*r we'll be remembered as heroes. 

Foyle: And it was also you who m*rder Agnes Browne. 

Reginald: I will not listen to any more of this. 

Simon: Yes, I k*lled her. 

Flashback to Agnes in the office.

Simon (voiceover): I heard her on the telephone, and, well, you know what happened.

Agnes falls, screaming.

Simon (voiceover): You see, that's what I learnt in Germany.

Greenwood Hall.

Simon: When someone gets in your way you have to act. That's the genius of h*tler. In a way, that makes him the greatest businessman of all. 

Foyle looks at Milner and nods him towards Simon.

Milner: Mr Walker. 

He leads Simon out.

Reginald: (Simon!) My God! 

He sits down.

Foyle: Where's your wife? 

Reginald: She's left me. 

Foyle: Not much of a day for you, is it? Your wife. Your son. Your business. 

Reginald: My business? 

Foyle: D'you know what this is? 

Foyle looks over at the gold box.

Reginald: It's a gift. 

Foyle: But do you know what it is? 

Reginald: It's solid gold, and it's a gift given to my company in recognition of successful trade relations. 

Foyle: A gift from whom? 

Reginald: The Office for Trade. 

Foyle: The German Office for Trade? 

Reginald: Yes. 

Foyle: And you didn't disclose the theft of it because? 

Reginald: Because my son did not declare it. It- he smuggled it into this country from Switzerland a few weeks ago. 

Foyle: Well, you're right. It is, er, solid gold. It hasn't been declared. Er, it certainly only came into the country recently. And it might well have come from the trade office, Sir Reginald, but it's first of all come through a department of the Third Reich called the Firmenverkehrsstelle, the property transfer office, which deals with and processes property acquired, er, by the n*zi. 

Flashback to Foyle examining the box with a magnifying glass.

Foyle (voiceover): Ah, this is a Jewish artefact, made in Frankfurt in the 18th Century by Jeremiah Sobel. 

Foyle walks along carrying the box. He brings it to a Jewish expert, who unwraps it.

Foyle (voiceover): And until six weeks ago, it belonged to a family called the Rothenbergs, who used it as a prayer book holder.

The expert speaks with Foyle.

Foyle (voiceover): The family, all four of them, were sh*t.

Greenwood Hall.

Foyle: And their home looted by the n*zi. And once it's generally known you're a beneficiary of this n*zi reallocation of property, how long do you think you and your company have got? One or two things bigger than business, wouldn't you say? 

He turns to leave.

Reginald: Aren't you going to arrest me? 

Foyle: Well, on behalf of a very dear friend of mine, I'd say it was no longer necessary. 

He leaves.

Outside. Milner escorts a cuffed Simon into the back of the van as Foyle emerges from the house behind them. There's a g*n from inside the house. Foyle keeps on walking without looking back. Simon turns to try and get back out of the van, and Milner taps a policeman in passing as he heads back into the house.

Milner: Hold onto him. 

Policeman: Sir.

Simon: Father! 

Simon struggles to get back to the house.

Policeman: In you get.

Simon: Get your hands off of me.

The van door slams. Foyle shakes his head a little, still without looking back.

Simon (offscreen): Get your hands off of me. Father!

Foyle nods to Sam and they both get into the car.
{"type": "series", "show": "Foyle's War", "episode": "02x03 - w*r Games"}