SS-GB (2017): Season 1, Episode 1 - Episode #1.1 - full transcript
The Germans have won World War II and the Nazis occupy Britain, dealing harshly with the Resistance. Widowed detective Douglas Archer tries to be impartial and is accused of being a collaborator by his mistress and secretary Sylvia, a member of the Resistance. Douglas is called to investigate the murder of antique shop owner Peter Thomas, who has gunshot wounds but seemingly died of liver failure. Furthermore his shop was a Resistance safe house and he had recently visited a top secret airfield. The killer would seem to be Peter's brother Spode but Douglas is surprised when SS Standartedfuhrer Huth takes over the case, to the annoyance of Douglas's 'boss', General Kellerman, now in charge of the police. Douglas is also intrigued by American journalist Barbara Brarga, who claims to have known the victim only slightly, though Douglas has his suspicions.
[BIRDSONG]
[AIRCRAFT APPROACHES]
RADIO: This is the BBC Home Service.
On orders from the German army,
the curfew will be relaxed from Monday
to celebrate German-Soviet
Friendship Week.
In anticipation of the celebrations,
one of the few surviving Spitfires
will be presented to Soviet
General Zhukov on The Mall today
by German air ace Helmut Vig.
Vice Marshal Goering commented
that Herr Helmut Vig's 58 kills
was a decisive factor in the battle
for air supremacy over Britain
that finally brought peace to Europe...
[HE BREATHES DEEPLY]
Urgh!
[PANICKED SHOUTS]
[HE BREATHES DEEPLY]
[ANGRY SHOUTS]
[DOG BARKS]
[REFLECTIVE PIANO MUSIC]
[MUSIC PLAYS]
I have to go.
No, no, no, no, don't rush off.
It's the first whole night
we've had together in ages.
[HE SIGHS]
Believe me, I'd love to stay.
Then let's not go in.
There's that flu going around.
- What, both of us?
- A-huh.
I hate that place now.
It's very plush here.
Who else uses these rooms?
A Reichspropagandaleiter.
- What if they come back?
- We'll be shot.
[HE CHUCKLES]
He's visiting the South West
controlled zone.
Aren't you the clever one!
If I quit, would you still see me?
Of course.
- But don't.
- It's all right for you.
- Archer of the Yard, all that power.
- Huh!
Don't talk daft, Sylvia.
[HUBBUB]
For God's sake,
get away from the window!
Come in.
Don't you like it? It's
covering my modesty.
- Doesn't it do the same for you?
- Don't be a bloody fool.
[PHONE RINGS]
Ja?
[HE SIGHS]
All right. Have you got the murder bag?
Good.
[HE SIGHS]
Harry Woods.
A death above an antique shop,
Shepherd Market.
Take that thing off, will you?
[LOW CHATTER]
Yes, Harry?
Do you get a thrill out of taking
stupid risks, huh, Doug?
Not very subtle,
what you're doing with Sylvia.
How do you know what we get up to?
I don't know what's got into you.
Then just drive, Harry.
Look, all I'm saying is,
not on your own doorstep,
not with your own secretary,
for Christ's sake!
In the... Fritz Ritz!
Those Herberts might act
as if they like you just now,
but they could turn on you any time.
Mind your own business, Sergeant.
Listen, if you have to have it off,
what about that, er...
big-titted German bird
in the Waffen-SS liaison, huh?
[THEY LAUGH]
- No? I heard she puts it about a bit.
I thought you disapproved
of consorting with the Germans.
What's the use?
What do the Resistance
hope to achieve with this?
He gets strung up
- and his family sent to a labour camp.
-
Defiance.
Nothing wrong with a bit of that.
What if the Russki had
been killed instead, huh?
That would've put the dampers on their
friendship ceremony, wouldn't it?
Yeah.
I remember I took you around here
when it was my beat.
Young and innocent, you were.
Brand-new diploma,
not a clue in the world.
- You're choking me up, Harry!
- [HARRY CHUCKLES]
No, I'm just saying,
when it was my beat, it was nice.
No, it wasn't.
Ah, maybe not.
The girls were always friendly.
Well, friendship's not always free
around here, is it?
- Hiya, love.
- Hello, Sergeant.
What's going on here?
Well, you ought to know,
you're working with 'em.
Ought to know what?
The Herberts have decided we need
to be examined by their doctors.
Go back in the line!
So it's true,
they're turning the whole area
into an official Wehrmacht brothel.
To the victor, the spoils, huh?
You won't be able to come
around here any more, Harry.
Yeah, very funny!
Inspector Archer?
Sir, is it true the SS are using the
police to chase Resistance fighters?
It's nonsense. We're non-political
and we always will be.
[BARRAGE OF QUESTIONS]
- Morning, Denham.
- Sir.
- Is that the way to the roof?
- Yes, sir.
Morning.
[CLOCK TICKS]
Sorry to disturb, Doc.
[FAINT SHOUTS IN THE STREET]
Huh!
Fancy some petrol coupons, Harry?
You could get to Timbuktu on this lot.
Looks like our antique dealer
had a couple of sidelines.
Remember that gang that murdered
the warehouse manager in Fulham?
They were forging
Luftwaffe petrol coupons.
Could be the same mob.
Well, Doc?
First bullet in the chest, second
one into the top of the lung.
Death probably instantaneous.
Has the pathologist been?
No, he's probably stuck
at some roadblock.
That Resistance shooting
caused a bit of a stink.
Good teeth.
- There's blood in the mouth.
- He probably hit his face when he fell.
[AIRCRAFT OVERHEAD]
What's this?
Cataracts? Was he blind?
I couldn't tell you. They're not
like any cataracts I've seen.
Fine clothes.
Not short of money.
Although they could fit better.
Maybe it was an argument
with his tailor, huh?
Oooh...!
That's worth a small fortune.
A-hem!
What have you got, Harry?
Eight pounds, three shillings, keys.
Railway ticket, monthly.
Return and a half.
From London to Bringle Sands.
Here, Peter Thomas.
ID issued at, er...
Kingston Record Office.
Kingston? That's the one
the Resistance burned down.
- Yeah.
- Convenient. Can't be traced.
Care to hazard a time of death, Doctor?
Er... between six and seven
this morning.
Harry, would you bag up
these ashes, please?
Yeah. I'll have a word
with the neighbours.
Thanks, Doc.
[FAINT BARKING OUTSIDE]
[DOG BARKS OUTSIDE]
[DISTANT CONVERSATION]
[HUBBUB]
[ANGRY SHOUTS]
Get your men under control!
It's disgusting what you're doing!
- Argh!
- [SHOCKED GASPS]
[LOW CHATTER]
Do you come here often
with Peter Thomas?
I'm Chief Superintendent Douglas Archer.
And you are... Madam?
Miss. I'd rather not be mistaken
for a madam.
It's Barbara Barga, New York Times.
Have you been in London long?
I arrived ten days ago
on the inaugural Lufthansa flight.
With Goebbels and Goering.
You must be important.
Yet you just walked away
from the scene of a crime.
I saw you.
What is the crime?
Well, from the way you disappeared,
I thought you'd guessed.
The menu, sir.
Foul play. Isn't that
what you call it over here?
You don't seem surprised.
No.
But I hoped it wasn't.
For Peter's sake.
What was it?
Suicide?
He was shot.
Any idea why?
He was what we call a hustler.
Who knows what deals he was into?
And what was your relationship?
He was helping me on a piece
about Americans
who chose to stay in London.
A year of occupation,
that kind of thing.
Poor old Peter.
I ran out of film yesterday,
he said he'd get me a roll.
But I guess everything in the apartment
is considered evidence now.
So you walked away
to avoid getting involved.
Didn't do me much good.
Well...
that outfit's always
going to get you noticed.
I'm not sure all policemen
would be so observant.
[GERMAN CONVERSATION]
I guess dealers like him will be
rubbing their hands at the thought
of all the new stuff that will come
from the fighting in the North.
You are well-informed.
Funny. I'm not hungry any more.
I'll need to see you again.
Where can I reach you?
The Dorchester.
For some reason, I never got invited
to the reopening.
Hm. It's not what it was.
Nothing is.
I don't know.
Some things can improve with age.
[HE SIGHS]
[HE EXHALES]
[TRAFFIC CONGESTION]
[LOW CHATTER]
What is it?
I've been summoned.
In there.
Do you know why?
You tell me.
Danke schön.
- Hi, Doug.
- Harry.
- Sir.
- Thank you, Jimmy.
So, what have you been up to?
I'm not entirely sure.
What did you get?
Er... well, according to the neighbours,
Peter Thomas was involved
with some Luftwaffe Feldwebel.
Big guy, spectacles.
Probably from the Quartermaster's
Depot in Marylebone.
Supplied them with all their
goodies for their parties.
You know, drugs, painted ladies.
I'm going to send his description
to the Military Police.
If the Military are involved,
they take over.
Puts us in a spot, doesn't it?
Eh?
That antique shop,
it was a Resistance safe house.
A transmitter aerial
hidden in the ceiling.
Well, if it is Resistance,
that becomes an SS job,
not Military Police.
Either way, it's not our responsibility.
Right. Well, I'll... just send the file.
What do you want to do with these ashes?
We'll keep hold of those
for now, I think.
What is it?
That look.
I've seen that a thousand times.
What?
A woman, this morning.
Well, she was headed for
Peter Thomas' place,
until she saw the bobbies outside,
then made herself scarce.
Right. Well, let's get
her description, then, huh?
I managed to talk to her.
American. A journalist.
And a liar.
She claims she was
after Thomas for film,
but someone like that can get that sort
of stuff easily from the US Embassy,
or the German Press Bureau.
She doesn't need the black market.
[PHONE RINGS]
Weekly debrief with Kellermann.
Yes, sir, immediately.
I was just on my way up.
Right up my arse!
[THEY SPEAK GERMAN]
[CONVERSATION IN GERMAN CONTINUES]
Superintendent, come in. Come in.
These gentlemen are from
The Signal Magazine in Berlin.
Ja, sehr gut. Er... Foto?
Could you and SS-Gruppenfuhrer
Kellermann step behind the table
and look at some notes or a map?
The new flag for the event
with our Russian friends.
Foto.
I think they've made the cross
of St George a little too small, hm?
- Could you point at it?
- Yeah.
Both of you. Please.
Foto.
Superintendent Archer,
is it true here at Scotland Yard,
the men call General Kellermann Father?
Do I not know
what goes on in my force, hm?
[GENERAL KELLERMANN CHUCKLES]
If Scotland Yard's finest
detective says it is so, hm,
then who am I to question it? So...
Come!
[GENERAL KELLERMANN SIGHS]
I'm sorry about all that. Ah!
Anything to report?
A murder in Shepherd Market.
Looks like German involvement,
so I expect the Feldgericht
der Luftwaffe will take it over.
[PHONE RINGS]
Kellermann.
Well...
It seems a senior officer
of the Sicherheitsdienst
will be joining us from Berlin.
Today.
[DOOR OPENS]
- Herr Gruppenfuhrer?
- Ah, Glott.
Jawohl, Gruppenfuhrer!
Naturlich.
[GENERAL KELLERMANN SIGHS]
[DOOR CLOSES]
The reception at The Savoy tonight,
we can make it in his honour.
Standartenfuhrer Dr. Huth is on the
personal staff of Reichsfuhrer Himmler.
We want him to feel welcome.
Why is an Intelligence SS officer
coming here, sir?
I don't know.
But, er... fortunately,
you'll be working closely
with Herr Dr. Huth,
so his thoughts will not be
a mystery, if you get my meaning.
[HUBBUB]
What did they want?
I've been reassigned. Genealogy.
They want details
on all the support staff.
Family histories, bloodlines.
Weed out the undesirables.
Hm.
I thought...
Well, I hoped it wouldn't come to this.
Not so quickly.
Look, I'll go upstairs and
insist you stay working with me.
I thought it was your job
to protect all of us.
You don't get it, do you?
We'll talk tomorrow.
Were you always like this, or was it
her dying that did it to you?
Here.
- Hello?
- Hello, Mr. Archer.
Dad! Is it murder?
Murder at the antiques shop,
wasn't it, Mr. Archer?
It was in the early edition.
Detective Bob Sheenan.
[DOUGGIE CHUCKLES]
You like 'em soft, don't you,
Mr. Archer?
I put one in as soon as I heard you
on the stairs.
I've had my eggs for the week,
Mrs. Sheenan.
Not to worry, we've got six
from Mrs. Custance.
- I don't know how you do it.
- Well, you helped.
I gave her that smelly old sweater
of yours to unravel for wool.
All the eggs are yours, really.
I liked that jumper.
I thought...
Men! You're as bad as my Tom.
- Good day at school, boys?
- Yeah.
Did you behave yourself today, Bob?
Yes, Mr. Archer.
Ha-ha-ha-ha! Why don't I believe you?
I've put one spoonful of real tea in it.
- You look like you could use it.
- Thank you.
Well, it was a murder enquiry,
but it doesn't look like
I'm going to be involved.
Was it a juicy one?
Douggie!
MUSIC: Key To The Highway
by John Lee Hooker
♪ I got the key to the highway ♪
♪ And I'm billed out and bound to go ♪
♪ I'm going to leave here running ♪
♪ Because walking is most too slow ♪
♪ I'm going down on the border... ♪
Dad! Dad! Come and see!
Hurry!
It's a Jaguar!
[HE SIGHS]
Na gut.
[CAR STARTS]
Yeah.
I don't like the look of his liver.
Explain to me.
It's diseased.
It's most interesting.
I... I've never seen one quite like it.
I wonder how your antique
dealer carried on.
How near to death by liver failure
was he?
I wouldn't have given him
more than... two months.
What about the eyes?
I saw something like that
in the Great War.
Glare from magnesium shells.
Photokeratitis.
I want all his internal organs
and his eyes
packed and ready to be flown
to Berlin on the morning flight.
Then there is nothing to keep me.
Sir John, your knowledge
and experience is invaluable.
Please, finish the postmortem so
a report can accompany the remains.
But for now,
you will all leave this room.
Except for Inspector Archer.
You were on your way to a party?
There's a reception
at The Savoy in your honour,
Standartenfuhrer Dr. Huth.
Kellermann.
He has the subtlety of a pig.
What else does he have planned for me?
General Kellermann thought you might like to
see the Houses of Parliament on the way, sir.
As I say, a pig.
Does that mean you would or wouldn't
like to see the Houses of Parliament?
It means, my dear Superintendent,
that I do not have the slightest
intention of spending the evening
watching a roomful of army officers
and their overdressed women
guzzling champagne and,
between mouthfuls of smoked salmon,
telling me the best place
to buy Staffordshire china.
Very well, then, I'll take you to
your accommodation on Brook Street.
You will take me to my office.
And then you will requisition a car
for your permanent use.
As I need you to be mobile,
Inspector Archer.
We are going to be busy, you and I.
[HORN BLARES]
[LOW CHATTER]
In some way, it's a shame
the battle spared such dreary areas.
I'm sorry.
Your wife was killed in one such action.
I'm afraid the blame
is Winston Churchill's.
None of this need have happened.
Well, from what I heard,
he paid his debt.
The rumours, the V sign
in the face of the firing squad,
Pure propaganda
put out by your Resistance.
So... this Peter Thomas murder...?
Well, it looks like
a black-market killing.
A flat full of military cigarettes,
alcohol, petrol coupons.
We already have a statement
from a neighbour
saying that a Luftwaffe Feldwebel
was a frequent visitor.
Yes.
You sent the files to
the Feldgendarmerie straightaway.
And within the hour,
the SS claimed them back
and a teleprinter message from Berlin
instructed the army to pass
all papers back to you.
But that instruction could've only
come from the Supreme Commander.
Heil Hitler.
[LOW CHATTER]
Of course, you speak excellent German.
You took modern languages at Oxford.
Pembroke.
I was at King's College.
Happy times there.
How long did you resist working for us?
I'm not sure General Kellermann
gave me any choice.
That is the problem
with having a reputation.
You don't think for a minute
it's a black-market murder.
In my experience, the truth doesn't
offer itself up just like that.
No loose ends?
A railway ticket, from Bringle Sands.
It's a resort on the South Coast.
I know exactly where it is.
You are having misgivings
about this investigation.
You got Sir John Shields
to perform the autopsy.
He's the top pathologist in the
country. Physician to His Majesty.
- Your point?
- If you have a strong suspicion
of what Peter Thomas was suffering
from, I ought to be told.
Have you seen anything like this before?
No, but some of my staff have.
They inform me it is far more dangerous
than any Black Death or such.
So it's infectious?
We are fine.
And what caused it?
Something at Bringle Sands?
Quite possibly.
Very nice.
Now, get rid of all this silly junk.
Get lockable filing cases
and a metal desk.
Telephones, four direct lines
that do not go through
Kellermann's switchboard.
And I need a table and chair
in the corridor for my sentry.
- Where's my sentry?
- Sentry, sir?
Don't stand there
repeating everything I say.
Get on to the SS guard commander
at Cannon Row,
tell him to send a sentry
and half-a-dozen men
to clear this furniture out.
I doubt there'll be workmen available
at this time of night, sir.
I will be in conference room
number three with Major Steiger.
I expect it all to be done
before I return.
And in the morning, I want to see
a team piecing together these ashes
you found in the grate
at the murder scene.
Talk about a new broom, eh?
I haven't seen this much activity
since the night the invasion started.
Four new lines, tested and functioning.
Are you all right?
Well...
Sylvia, she, er... she's
gone and done it.
She... she walked out and grabbed
a handful of blank SIPO passes,
from what it looks like.
She's got herself on the list.
Damn it!
Yeah.
[PHONE RINGS]
Standartenfuhrer Huth's office.
Archer. Splendid.
Is the Standartenfuhrer with you?
He's in number three
conference room, sir.
Unfortunately, he's left orders
that no calls should be
put through to him there.
That doesn't apply to me, of course,
but there appears to be something wrong
with the phone in the conference room.
That's probably because the Signals
staff are changing the lines, sir.
What? At this time of night?
Changing phones in my office?
Standartenfuhrer Huth's
a very busy man, sir.
Which is why
he never arrived at The Savoy.
Achtung!
Archer?
Alle raus, bitte.
Should I come over there now?
Standartenfuhrer has just walked in,
sir.
Do not discuss the workings
of this office with outsiders.
- It was General Kellermann, sir.
- How do you know?
I'm reliably informed
your drunken friend here
can manage a fairly convincing imitation
of General Kellermann's English,
for instance.
The Peter Thomas murder investigation
is part of an operation
we have codenamed Schlussende,
the Final Act.
I shall be notified of all arrests
in connection with this case
and no information goes outside this
room without my written permission,
or that of Reichsfuhrer
Heinrich Himmler. Clear?
Unforgettably so, sir.
Any breach of this instruction
is not only a capital offence
under Section 134
of the Military Orders of the
Commander-in-Chief Great Britain,
for which the penalty is a firing squad,
but also under Section 11
of your own Emergency Powers
German Occupation Act 1941,
for which they hang offenders
at Wandsworth Prison.
Would the hanging or the shooting
come first, sir?
[HE CHUCKLES]
We must always leave something
for the jury to decide. Gentlemen.
[HUBBUB]
- Morning.
- Dad! Was it an all-night party?
If only.
- Morning.
- Morning.
- Thank you.
- Oh, I'll make something for you.
No, I'm fine.
Boys... I've got a car.
So I'm going to take you to school
in half an hour.
- Is it the Jaguar?
- No, it's not.
You're not going back there
without a rest?
I'm just getting my second wind.
The bathwater's still warm.
Only the children have used it.
Woman down the street saw
an ambulance train going south
through Clapham Junction Monday.
It was full of wounded German soldiers.
Two Red Cross coaches on the back.
I'd be careful who you tell that to,
Mrs. Sheenan.
Oh, I wouldn't tell anyone, that
block warden might hear about it.
But I can talk to you, Mr. Archer.
Well, in the towns,
it's just the odd murder here
and there of German soldiers.
But in the country,
there are bigger groups
ambushing whole German patrols.
So, the fighting's not over?
There's still a chance?
Well, I'm afraid the winter's coming.
You mean the cold will get them?
Well, they can't light fires
for fear of smoke.
There'll be no leaves left, so no cover.
Spotter planes will have it easy.
I think that'll be it
for the Resistance.
Except maybe in the north,
in the unoccupied zone.
Yeah, they say it's bad up there.
Shortages.
Those poor boys!
You think I'll ever see my Tom again?
I don't know what to tell Bob.
The Germans have promised to return
all POWs as soon as possible.
What do the Germans care?
They're getting cheap labour.
What can our government offer
in exchange?
Give it time, Mrs. Sheenan.
[SHE SIGHS]
You mustn't let Bob see you unhappy.
[SHE SNIFFS]
The POW camps are more comfortable
than the internment ones.
I know that's not much consolation.
Dad...
Do you work for the Gestapo?
No.
I'm a detective with the
Metropolitan Police. You know that.
The Gestapo are at Scotland Yard.
They're in the building next door.
And they're mostly all Germans.
But you work with the Gestapo?
Is that what you've heard?
The boys at school said so.
I don't.
Dad... me and some of the boys
at school were wondering,
could you get a Gestapo badge?
The Gestapo don't have badges, Douggie.
They use identity tags.
Well, could you get
one of the SS armbands?
Or one of the silver-wire SD badges?
Yeah. No-one at school's
got one of them.
Boys... one day,
the Germans will be gone.
And we'll carry on
and get back to the way we were
and how things were.
If we let things fall apart now
because they're here,
then it's going to be difficult
or impossible to get back there.
The law is all we have.
And, quite frankly... I'm it.
[HE STARTS THE CAR]
- Doug.
- Sylvia!
You shouldn't be anywhere
near here. Are you mad?
Don't you know Whitehall
has regular Gendarmerie patrols?
When you stole those passes,
you ended up on every Gestapo list
in the occupied zone.
Christ! It's not for you,
it's for The Mall shooting.
- Argh!
- [SMASH!]
- There's a side door.
- No!
They'll have plain-clothes men watching
for anyone acting suspiciously.
What the hell are you doing?!
Herr Unteroffizier?
What are you doing?
You're hurting my wrist,
you bloody bastard!
- Danke.
- Bitte. Next!
The Germans view those
SIPO passes you took
as just about the most valuable piece
of paper a foreigner can be given.
A foreigner?!
- That's not how I meant it.
- Yes, it is.
That's what we are, as far as
you're concerned... foreigners.
The Germans are the ones
with the right to be here
and we're the intruders who
have to bow and bloody scrape.
Calm down!
Get your hands off me,
you bloody Gestapo bastard!
- Have you been drinking?
- So what?
Sylvia!
- [GUNFIRE]
- Look at you. You're pathetic!
I've got friends who don't go
in fear and trembling of the hunt.
You wouldn't understand that, would you?
No. Too busy doing their
dirty work for them.
I'm a bloody fool
for not having guessed.
You're Resistance.
Why are you here?
And what have we been doing
these past months?
Lucky old me, it's not
your job to hunt us down.
- Not yet, anyway.
- What do you want, Sylvia?
Have you run out of information
to hand on?
Well, we both got something, didn't we?
You didn't answer my question.
Maybe I wanted to tell you,
you needed to be more careful.
There are some a lot more determined
than me.
I don't doubt that.
They'd do anything
to make people like you cooperate.
- I've said enough.
- What do you mean?
- Just leave me alone!
- What are they going to do?
- I don't know!
- Who are they?!
Heroes, not collaborators, like you lot!
I'm doing this for all of us,
you bloody fool!
Give me a name.
John.
I don't know his surname.
He comes and goes,
he always has a different scheme.
Now it's you.
Me? Where can I find him?
Where?
The Coach And Horses, Hammersmith.
They say he took out a Panzer
with a tyre iron.
Cost him his arm.
If you've only just guessed about me,
I suppose you haven't twigged
to Harry yet.
[SHE SCOFFS]
Morning, Jimmy. Busy?
All these bloomin' arrangements
for the friendship ceremony
between them and the Russkies.
Maybe it's a good thing
I'm borrowing you, then.
Oh, great. Plain clothes?
Get changed.
Yeah, well, I keep my old suit
in the locker since last time.
Good. I'll walk with you.
I need you to check on someone.
A character called John.
He's a regular at The Coach And Horses.
Upper Mall, Hammersmith. Missing an arm.
I would do it myself,
but I think he knows me.
This isn't strictly police business.
He may be Resistance.
So I understand
if you don't want to do it.
If you think it needs to be done,
sir, I'm in.
Good.
Draw a pistol and keep
your wits about you.
All right?
Anything wrong, Super?
I ran into Sylvia.
Christ! Is she all right?
Of course, you knew she was
Resistance, didn't you?
Just like you know everything else.
Well, you can hardly blame her.
Having your parents killed like that.
Oh, I, er... did some digging.
That American dame,
seems to be who she says.
Barbara Barga has quite a reputation.
Do you think
she could be Resistance, too?
It seems everyone is.
A Yank? Why would she get involved?
I don't know.
But she had a rendezvous
at that safe house.
Are you sure you're not
talking yourself around
so you can go and see her again?
[PHONE RINGS]
Archer.
Sir, a barman gave me information.
He's called John Spode.
I've got the address.
Well done. Where?
Peveril Lane, Hammersmith.
I've gained access with a bit
of force, if you know what I mean.
All right.
This was hidden.
A team of scientists.
That must be our man... John Spode.
And that's our dead man
from Shepherd Market.
William Spode.
Brothers.
Check on those scientists
in the picture.
Will do.
That from the Peter Thomas shooting?
The William Spode shooting,
we can call it now.
I'll bet there's no such person
as Peter Thomas.
And this places his younger brother
at the shooting.
My guess is he'll be back for this.
So he killed his own brother?
It's hard to imagine.
Perhaps.
Find out the part number
and how to get a replacement.
Letter from a school,
confirming position
of assistant music teacher.
Beech Road!
- What is it, sir?
- That's my son's school.
He's after Douggie!
Call Central! Get them to put a watch put
on this place in case he comes back!
- Why would he want your son, sir?
- John Spode's Resistance.
They want to control me
and get to me through my son.
What else could it be?
Call Harry Woods!
♪ I vow to thee, my country ♪
♪ All earthly things above ♪
♪ Entire and whole and perfect ♪
♪ The service of my love ♪
♪ The love that asks no questions ♪
♪ The love that stands the test ♪
♪ That lays upon the altar... ♪
- Douggie would have been safe with me.
- How the hell do you know?!
Schlussende, the Final Act.
It would have the ability
to wipe out an entire city.
Don't go home without me, will you?
We need nothing of you,
except loyalty to your country.
We all of us have to
take risks, Douglas.
We've taken one by telling you
as much as we have.
Don't go back there and say no deal.
- What if I did?
- Then they'd kill you.
You know too much now to be
allowed to stay uncommitted.
I'm going to give you
a lesson you will never forget.
I'm worried about you, Doug.
Being Huth's man.
It doesn't look good to some people.
Don't turn your back, man,
this is your doing.
[PIANO MUSIC]
[AIRCRAFT APPROACHES]
RADIO: This is the BBC Home Service.
On orders from the German army,
the curfew will be relaxed from Monday
to celebrate German-Soviet
Friendship Week.
In anticipation of the celebrations,
one of the few surviving Spitfires
will be presented to Soviet
General Zhukov on The Mall today
by German air ace Helmut Vig.
Vice Marshal Goering commented
that Herr Helmut Vig's 58 kills
was a decisive factor in the battle
for air supremacy over Britain
that finally brought peace to Europe...
[HE BREATHES DEEPLY]
Urgh!
[PANICKED SHOUTS]
[HE BREATHES DEEPLY]
[ANGRY SHOUTS]
[DOG BARKS]
[REFLECTIVE PIANO MUSIC]
[MUSIC PLAYS]
I have to go.
No, no, no, no, don't rush off.
It's the first whole night
we've had together in ages.
[HE SIGHS]
Believe me, I'd love to stay.
Then let's not go in.
There's that flu going around.
- What, both of us?
- A-huh.
I hate that place now.
It's very plush here.
Who else uses these rooms?
A Reichspropagandaleiter.
- What if they come back?
- We'll be shot.
[HE CHUCKLES]
He's visiting the South West
controlled zone.
Aren't you the clever one!
If I quit, would you still see me?
Of course.
- But don't.
- It's all right for you.
- Archer of the Yard, all that power.
- Huh!
Don't talk daft, Sylvia.
[HUBBUB]
For God's sake,
get away from the window!
Come in.
Don't you like it? It's
covering my modesty.
- Doesn't it do the same for you?
- Don't be a bloody fool.
[PHONE RINGS]
Ja?
[HE SIGHS]
All right. Have you got the murder bag?
Good.
[HE SIGHS]
Harry Woods.
A death above an antique shop,
Shepherd Market.
Take that thing off, will you?
[LOW CHATTER]
Yes, Harry?
Do you get a thrill out of taking
stupid risks, huh, Doug?
Not very subtle,
what you're doing with Sylvia.
How do you know what we get up to?
I don't know what's got into you.
Then just drive, Harry.
Look, all I'm saying is,
not on your own doorstep,
not with your own secretary,
for Christ's sake!
In the... Fritz Ritz!
Those Herberts might act
as if they like you just now,
but they could turn on you any time.
Mind your own business, Sergeant.
Listen, if you have to have it off,
what about that, er...
big-titted German bird
in the Waffen-SS liaison, huh?
[THEY LAUGH]
- No? I heard she puts it about a bit.
I thought you disapproved
of consorting with the Germans.
What's the use?
What do the Resistance
hope to achieve with this?
He gets strung up
- and his family sent to a labour camp.
-
Defiance.
Nothing wrong with a bit of that.
What if the Russki had
been killed instead, huh?
That would've put the dampers on their
friendship ceremony, wouldn't it?
Yeah.
I remember I took you around here
when it was my beat.
Young and innocent, you were.
Brand-new diploma,
not a clue in the world.
- You're choking me up, Harry!
- [HARRY CHUCKLES]
No, I'm just saying,
when it was my beat, it was nice.
No, it wasn't.
Ah, maybe not.
The girls were always friendly.
Well, friendship's not always free
around here, is it?
- Hiya, love.
- Hello, Sergeant.
What's going on here?
Well, you ought to know,
you're working with 'em.
Ought to know what?
The Herberts have decided we need
to be examined by their doctors.
Go back in the line!
So it's true,
they're turning the whole area
into an official Wehrmacht brothel.
To the victor, the spoils, huh?
You won't be able to come
around here any more, Harry.
Yeah, very funny!
Inspector Archer?
Sir, is it true the SS are using the
police to chase Resistance fighters?
It's nonsense. We're non-political
and we always will be.
[BARRAGE OF QUESTIONS]
- Morning, Denham.
- Sir.
- Is that the way to the roof?
- Yes, sir.
Morning.
[CLOCK TICKS]
Sorry to disturb, Doc.
[FAINT SHOUTS IN THE STREET]
Huh!
Fancy some petrol coupons, Harry?
You could get to Timbuktu on this lot.
Looks like our antique dealer
had a couple of sidelines.
Remember that gang that murdered
the warehouse manager in Fulham?
They were forging
Luftwaffe petrol coupons.
Could be the same mob.
Well, Doc?
First bullet in the chest, second
one into the top of the lung.
Death probably instantaneous.
Has the pathologist been?
No, he's probably stuck
at some roadblock.
That Resistance shooting
caused a bit of a stink.
Good teeth.
- There's blood in the mouth.
- He probably hit his face when he fell.
[AIRCRAFT OVERHEAD]
What's this?
Cataracts? Was he blind?
I couldn't tell you. They're not
like any cataracts I've seen.
Fine clothes.
Not short of money.
Although they could fit better.
Maybe it was an argument
with his tailor, huh?
Oooh...!
That's worth a small fortune.
A-hem!
What have you got, Harry?
Eight pounds, three shillings, keys.
Railway ticket, monthly.
Return and a half.
From London to Bringle Sands.
Here, Peter Thomas.
ID issued at, er...
Kingston Record Office.
Kingston? That's the one
the Resistance burned down.
- Yeah.
- Convenient. Can't be traced.
Care to hazard a time of death, Doctor?
Er... between six and seven
this morning.
Harry, would you bag up
these ashes, please?
Yeah. I'll have a word
with the neighbours.
Thanks, Doc.
[FAINT BARKING OUTSIDE]
[DOG BARKS OUTSIDE]
[DISTANT CONVERSATION]
[HUBBUB]
[ANGRY SHOUTS]
Get your men under control!
It's disgusting what you're doing!
- Argh!
- [SHOCKED GASPS]
[LOW CHATTER]
Do you come here often
with Peter Thomas?
I'm Chief Superintendent Douglas Archer.
And you are... Madam?
Miss. I'd rather not be mistaken
for a madam.
It's Barbara Barga, New York Times.
Have you been in London long?
I arrived ten days ago
on the inaugural Lufthansa flight.
With Goebbels and Goering.
You must be important.
Yet you just walked away
from the scene of a crime.
I saw you.
What is the crime?
Well, from the way you disappeared,
I thought you'd guessed.
The menu, sir.
Foul play. Isn't that
what you call it over here?
You don't seem surprised.
No.
But I hoped it wasn't.
For Peter's sake.
What was it?
Suicide?
He was shot.
Any idea why?
He was what we call a hustler.
Who knows what deals he was into?
And what was your relationship?
He was helping me on a piece
about Americans
who chose to stay in London.
A year of occupation,
that kind of thing.
Poor old Peter.
I ran out of film yesterday,
he said he'd get me a roll.
But I guess everything in the apartment
is considered evidence now.
So you walked away
to avoid getting involved.
Didn't do me much good.
Well...
that outfit's always
going to get you noticed.
I'm not sure all policemen
would be so observant.
[GERMAN CONVERSATION]
I guess dealers like him will be
rubbing their hands at the thought
of all the new stuff that will come
from the fighting in the North.
You are well-informed.
Funny. I'm not hungry any more.
I'll need to see you again.
Where can I reach you?
The Dorchester.
For some reason, I never got invited
to the reopening.
Hm. It's not what it was.
Nothing is.
I don't know.
Some things can improve with age.
[HE SIGHS]
[HE EXHALES]
[TRAFFIC CONGESTION]
[LOW CHATTER]
What is it?
I've been summoned.
In there.
Do you know why?
You tell me.
Danke schön.
- Hi, Doug.
- Harry.
- Sir.
- Thank you, Jimmy.
So, what have you been up to?
I'm not entirely sure.
What did you get?
Er... well, according to the neighbours,
Peter Thomas was involved
with some Luftwaffe Feldwebel.
Big guy, spectacles.
Probably from the Quartermaster's
Depot in Marylebone.
Supplied them with all their
goodies for their parties.
You know, drugs, painted ladies.
I'm going to send his description
to the Military Police.
If the Military are involved,
they take over.
Puts us in a spot, doesn't it?
Eh?
That antique shop,
it was a Resistance safe house.
A transmitter aerial
hidden in the ceiling.
Well, if it is Resistance,
that becomes an SS job,
not Military Police.
Either way, it's not our responsibility.
Right. Well, I'll... just send the file.
What do you want to do with these ashes?
We'll keep hold of those
for now, I think.
What is it?
That look.
I've seen that a thousand times.
What?
A woman, this morning.
Well, she was headed for
Peter Thomas' place,
until she saw the bobbies outside,
then made herself scarce.
Right. Well, let's get
her description, then, huh?
I managed to talk to her.
American. A journalist.
And a liar.
She claims she was
after Thomas for film,
but someone like that can get that sort
of stuff easily from the US Embassy,
or the German Press Bureau.
She doesn't need the black market.
[PHONE RINGS]
Weekly debrief with Kellermann.
Yes, sir, immediately.
I was just on my way up.
Right up my arse!
[THEY SPEAK GERMAN]
[CONVERSATION IN GERMAN CONTINUES]
Superintendent, come in. Come in.
These gentlemen are from
The Signal Magazine in Berlin.
Ja, sehr gut. Er... Foto?
Could you and SS-Gruppenfuhrer
Kellermann step behind the table
and look at some notes or a map?
The new flag for the event
with our Russian friends.
Foto.
I think they've made the cross
of St George a little too small, hm?
- Could you point at it?
- Yeah.
Both of you. Please.
Foto.
Superintendent Archer,
is it true here at Scotland Yard,
the men call General Kellermann Father?
Do I not know
what goes on in my force, hm?
[GENERAL KELLERMANN CHUCKLES]
If Scotland Yard's finest
detective says it is so, hm,
then who am I to question it? So...
Come!
[GENERAL KELLERMANN SIGHS]
I'm sorry about all that. Ah!
Anything to report?
A murder in Shepherd Market.
Looks like German involvement,
so I expect the Feldgericht
der Luftwaffe will take it over.
[PHONE RINGS]
Kellermann.
Well...
It seems a senior officer
of the Sicherheitsdienst
will be joining us from Berlin.
Today.
[DOOR OPENS]
- Herr Gruppenfuhrer?
- Ah, Glott.
Jawohl, Gruppenfuhrer!
Naturlich.
[GENERAL KELLERMANN SIGHS]
[DOOR CLOSES]
The reception at The Savoy tonight,
we can make it in his honour.
Standartenfuhrer Dr. Huth is on the
personal staff of Reichsfuhrer Himmler.
We want him to feel welcome.
Why is an Intelligence SS officer
coming here, sir?
I don't know.
But, er... fortunately,
you'll be working closely
with Herr Dr. Huth,
so his thoughts will not be
a mystery, if you get my meaning.
[HUBBUB]
What did they want?
I've been reassigned. Genealogy.
They want details
on all the support staff.
Family histories, bloodlines.
Weed out the undesirables.
Hm.
I thought...
Well, I hoped it wouldn't come to this.
Not so quickly.
Look, I'll go upstairs and
insist you stay working with me.
I thought it was your job
to protect all of us.
You don't get it, do you?
We'll talk tomorrow.
Were you always like this, or was it
her dying that did it to you?
Here.
- Hello?
- Hello, Mr. Archer.
Dad! Is it murder?
Murder at the antiques shop,
wasn't it, Mr. Archer?
It was in the early edition.
Detective Bob Sheenan.
[DOUGGIE CHUCKLES]
You like 'em soft, don't you,
Mr. Archer?
I put one in as soon as I heard you
on the stairs.
I've had my eggs for the week,
Mrs. Sheenan.
Not to worry, we've got six
from Mrs. Custance.
- I don't know how you do it.
- Well, you helped.
I gave her that smelly old sweater
of yours to unravel for wool.
All the eggs are yours, really.
I liked that jumper.
I thought...
Men! You're as bad as my Tom.
- Good day at school, boys?
- Yeah.
Did you behave yourself today, Bob?
Yes, Mr. Archer.
Ha-ha-ha-ha! Why don't I believe you?
I've put one spoonful of real tea in it.
- You look like you could use it.
- Thank you.
Well, it was a murder enquiry,
but it doesn't look like
I'm going to be involved.
Was it a juicy one?
Douggie!
MUSIC: Key To The Highway
by John Lee Hooker
♪ I got the key to the highway ♪
♪ And I'm billed out and bound to go ♪
♪ I'm going to leave here running ♪
♪ Because walking is most too slow ♪
♪ I'm going down on the border... ♪
Dad! Dad! Come and see!
Hurry!
It's a Jaguar!
[HE SIGHS]
Na gut.
[CAR STARTS]
Yeah.
I don't like the look of his liver.
Explain to me.
It's diseased.
It's most interesting.
I... I've never seen one quite like it.
I wonder how your antique
dealer carried on.
How near to death by liver failure
was he?
I wouldn't have given him
more than... two months.
What about the eyes?
I saw something like that
in the Great War.
Glare from magnesium shells.
Photokeratitis.
I want all his internal organs
and his eyes
packed and ready to be flown
to Berlin on the morning flight.
Then there is nothing to keep me.
Sir John, your knowledge
and experience is invaluable.
Please, finish the postmortem so
a report can accompany the remains.
But for now,
you will all leave this room.
Except for Inspector Archer.
You were on your way to a party?
There's a reception
at The Savoy in your honour,
Standartenfuhrer Dr. Huth.
Kellermann.
He has the subtlety of a pig.
What else does he have planned for me?
General Kellermann thought you might like to
see the Houses of Parliament on the way, sir.
As I say, a pig.
Does that mean you would or wouldn't
like to see the Houses of Parliament?
It means, my dear Superintendent,
that I do not have the slightest
intention of spending the evening
watching a roomful of army officers
and their overdressed women
guzzling champagne and,
between mouthfuls of smoked salmon,
telling me the best place
to buy Staffordshire china.
Very well, then, I'll take you to
your accommodation on Brook Street.
You will take me to my office.
And then you will requisition a car
for your permanent use.
As I need you to be mobile,
Inspector Archer.
We are going to be busy, you and I.
[HORN BLARES]
[LOW CHATTER]
In some way, it's a shame
the battle spared such dreary areas.
I'm sorry.
Your wife was killed in one such action.
I'm afraid the blame
is Winston Churchill's.
None of this need have happened.
Well, from what I heard,
he paid his debt.
The rumours, the V sign
in the face of the firing squad,
Pure propaganda
put out by your Resistance.
So... this Peter Thomas murder...?
Well, it looks like
a black-market killing.
A flat full of military cigarettes,
alcohol, petrol coupons.
We already have a statement
from a neighbour
saying that a Luftwaffe Feldwebel
was a frequent visitor.
Yes.
You sent the files to
the Feldgendarmerie straightaway.
And within the hour,
the SS claimed them back
and a teleprinter message from Berlin
instructed the army to pass
all papers back to you.
But that instruction could've only
come from the Supreme Commander.
Heil Hitler.
[LOW CHATTER]
Of course, you speak excellent German.
You took modern languages at Oxford.
Pembroke.
I was at King's College.
Happy times there.
How long did you resist working for us?
I'm not sure General Kellermann
gave me any choice.
That is the problem
with having a reputation.
You don't think for a minute
it's a black-market murder.
In my experience, the truth doesn't
offer itself up just like that.
No loose ends?
A railway ticket, from Bringle Sands.
It's a resort on the South Coast.
I know exactly where it is.
You are having misgivings
about this investigation.
You got Sir John Shields
to perform the autopsy.
He's the top pathologist in the
country. Physician to His Majesty.
- Your point?
- If you have a strong suspicion
of what Peter Thomas was suffering
from, I ought to be told.
Have you seen anything like this before?
No, but some of my staff have.
They inform me it is far more dangerous
than any Black Death or such.
So it's infectious?
We are fine.
And what caused it?
Something at Bringle Sands?
Quite possibly.
Very nice.
Now, get rid of all this silly junk.
Get lockable filing cases
and a metal desk.
Telephones, four direct lines
that do not go through
Kellermann's switchboard.
And I need a table and chair
in the corridor for my sentry.
- Where's my sentry?
- Sentry, sir?
Don't stand there
repeating everything I say.
Get on to the SS guard commander
at Cannon Row,
tell him to send a sentry
and half-a-dozen men
to clear this furniture out.
I doubt there'll be workmen available
at this time of night, sir.
I will be in conference room
number three with Major Steiger.
I expect it all to be done
before I return.
And in the morning, I want to see
a team piecing together these ashes
you found in the grate
at the murder scene.
Talk about a new broom, eh?
I haven't seen this much activity
since the night the invasion started.
Four new lines, tested and functioning.
Are you all right?
Well...
Sylvia, she, er... she's
gone and done it.
She... she walked out and grabbed
a handful of blank SIPO passes,
from what it looks like.
She's got herself on the list.
Damn it!
Yeah.
[PHONE RINGS]
Standartenfuhrer Huth's office.
Archer. Splendid.
Is the Standartenfuhrer with you?
He's in number three
conference room, sir.
Unfortunately, he's left orders
that no calls should be
put through to him there.
That doesn't apply to me, of course,
but there appears to be something wrong
with the phone in the conference room.
That's probably because the Signals
staff are changing the lines, sir.
What? At this time of night?
Changing phones in my office?
Standartenfuhrer Huth's
a very busy man, sir.
Which is why
he never arrived at The Savoy.
Achtung!
Archer?
Alle raus, bitte.
Should I come over there now?
Standartenfuhrer has just walked in,
sir.
Do not discuss the workings
of this office with outsiders.
- It was General Kellermann, sir.
- How do you know?
I'm reliably informed
your drunken friend here
can manage a fairly convincing imitation
of General Kellermann's English,
for instance.
The Peter Thomas murder investigation
is part of an operation
we have codenamed Schlussende,
the Final Act.
I shall be notified of all arrests
in connection with this case
and no information goes outside this
room without my written permission,
or that of Reichsfuhrer
Heinrich Himmler. Clear?
Unforgettably so, sir.
Any breach of this instruction
is not only a capital offence
under Section 134
of the Military Orders of the
Commander-in-Chief Great Britain,
for which the penalty is a firing squad,
but also under Section 11
of your own Emergency Powers
German Occupation Act 1941,
for which they hang offenders
at Wandsworth Prison.
Would the hanging or the shooting
come first, sir?
[HE CHUCKLES]
We must always leave something
for the jury to decide. Gentlemen.
[HUBBUB]
- Morning.
- Dad! Was it an all-night party?
If only.
- Morning.
- Morning.
- Thank you.
- Oh, I'll make something for you.
No, I'm fine.
Boys... I've got a car.
So I'm going to take you to school
in half an hour.
- Is it the Jaguar?
- No, it's not.
You're not going back there
without a rest?
I'm just getting my second wind.
The bathwater's still warm.
Only the children have used it.
Woman down the street saw
an ambulance train going south
through Clapham Junction Monday.
It was full of wounded German soldiers.
Two Red Cross coaches on the back.
I'd be careful who you tell that to,
Mrs. Sheenan.
Oh, I wouldn't tell anyone, that
block warden might hear about it.
But I can talk to you, Mr. Archer.
Well, in the towns,
it's just the odd murder here
and there of German soldiers.
But in the country,
there are bigger groups
ambushing whole German patrols.
So, the fighting's not over?
There's still a chance?
Well, I'm afraid the winter's coming.
You mean the cold will get them?
Well, they can't light fires
for fear of smoke.
There'll be no leaves left, so no cover.
Spotter planes will have it easy.
I think that'll be it
for the Resistance.
Except maybe in the north,
in the unoccupied zone.
Yeah, they say it's bad up there.
Shortages.
Those poor boys!
You think I'll ever see my Tom again?
I don't know what to tell Bob.
The Germans have promised to return
all POWs as soon as possible.
What do the Germans care?
They're getting cheap labour.
What can our government offer
in exchange?
Give it time, Mrs. Sheenan.
[SHE SIGHS]
You mustn't let Bob see you unhappy.
[SHE SNIFFS]
The POW camps are more comfortable
than the internment ones.
I know that's not much consolation.
Dad...
Do you work for the Gestapo?
No.
I'm a detective with the
Metropolitan Police. You know that.
The Gestapo are at Scotland Yard.
They're in the building next door.
And they're mostly all Germans.
But you work with the Gestapo?
Is that what you've heard?
The boys at school said so.
I don't.
Dad... me and some of the boys
at school were wondering,
could you get a Gestapo badge?
The Gestapo don't have badges, Douggie.
They use identity tags.
Well, could you get
one of the SS armbands?
Or one of the silver-wire SD badges?
Yeah. No-one at school's
got one of them.
Boys... one day,
the Germans will be gone.
And we'll carry on
and get back to the way we were
and how things were.
If we let things fall apart now
because they're here,
then it's going to be difficult
or impossible to get back there.
The law is all we have.
And, quite frankly... I'm it.
[HE STARTS THE CAR]
- Doug.
- Sylvia!
You shouldn't be anywhere
near here. Are you mad?
Don't you know Whitehall
has regular Gendarmerie patrols?
When you stole those passes,
you ended up on every Gestapo list
in the occupied zone.
Christ! It's not for you,
it's for The Mall shooting.
- Argh!
- [SMASH!]
- There's a side door.
- No!
They'll have plain-clothes men watching
for anyone acting suspiciously.
What the hell are you doing?!
Herr Unteroffizier?
What are you doing?
You're hurting my wrist,
you bloody bastard!
- Danke.
- Bitte. Next!
The Germans view those
SIPO passes you took
as just about the most valuable piece
of paper a foreigner can be given.
A foreigner?!
- That's not how I meant it.
- Yes, it is.
That's what we are, as far as
you're concerned... foreigners.
The Germans are the ones
with the right to be here
and we're the intruders who
have to bow and bloody scrape.
Calm down!
Get your hands off me,
you bloody Gestapo bastard!
- Have you been drinking?
- So what?
Sylvia!
- [GUNFIRE]
- Look at you. You're pathetic!
I've got friends who don't go
in fear and trembling of the hunt.
You wouldn't understand that, would you?
No. Too busy doing their
dirty work for them.
I'm a bloody fool
for not having guessed.
You're Resistance.
Why are you here?
And what have we been doing
these past months?
Lucky old me, it's not
your job to hunt us down.
- Not yet, anyway.
- What do you want, Sylvia?
Have you run out of information
to hand on?
Well, we both got something, didn't we?
You didn't answer my question.
Maybe I wanted to tell you,
you needed to be more careful.
There are some a lot more determined
than me.
I don't doubt that.
They'd do anything
to make people like you cooperate.
- I've said enough.
- What do you mean?
- Just leave me alone!
- What are they going to do?
- I don't know!
- Who are they?!
Heroes, not collaborators, like you lot!
I'm doing this for all of us,
you bloody fool!
Give me a name.
John.
I don't know his surname.
He comes and goes,
he always has a different scheme.
Now it's you.
Me? Where can I find him?
Where?
The Coach And Horses, Hammersmith.
They say he took out a Panzer
with a tyre iron.
Cost him his arm.
If you've only just guessed about me,
I suppose you haven't twigged
to Harry yet.
[SHE SCOFFS]
Morning, Jimmy. Busy?
All these bloomin' arrangements
for the friendship ceremony
between them and the Russkies.
Maybe it's a good thing
I'm borrowing you, then.
Oh, great. Plain clothes?
Get changed.
Yeah, well, I keep my old suit
in the locker since last time.
Good. I'll walk with you.
I need you to check on someone.
A character called John.
He's a regular at The Coach And Horses.
Upper Mall, Hammersmith. Missing an arm.
I would do it myself,
but I think he knows me.
This isn't strictly police business.
He may be Resistance.
So I understand
if you don't want to do it.
If you think it needs to be done,
sir, I'm in.
Good.
Draw a pistol and keep
your wits about you.
All right?
Anything wrong, Super?
I ran into Sylvia.
Christ! Is she all right?
Of course, you knew she was
Resistance, didn't you?
Just like you know everything else.
Well, you can hardly blame her.
Having your parents killed like that.
Oh, I, er... did some digging.
That American dame,
seems to be who she says.
Barbara Barga has quite a reputation.
Do you think
she could be Resistance, too?
It seems everyone is.
A Yank? Why would she get involved?
I don't know.
But she had a rendezvous
at that safe house.
Are you sure you're not
talking yourself around
so you can go and see her again?
[PHONE RINGS]
Archer.
Sir, a barman gave me information.
He's called John Spode.
I've got the address.
Well done. Where?
Peveril Lane, Hammersmith.
I've gained access with a bit
of force, if you know what I mean.
All right.
This was hidden.
A team of scientists.
That must be our man... John Spode.
And that's our dead man
from Shepherd Market.
William Spode.
Brothers.
Check on those scientists
in the picture.
Will do.
That from the Peter Thomas shooting?
The William Spode shooting,
we can call it now.
I'll bet there's no such person
as Peter Thomas.
And this places his younger brother
at the shooting.
My guess is he'll be back for this.
So he killed his own brother?
It's hard to imagine.
Perhaps.
Find out the part number
and how to get a replacement.
Letter from a school,
confirming position
of assistant music teacher.
Beech Road!
- What is it, sir?
- That's my son's school.
He's after Douggie!
Call Central! Get them to put a watch put
on this place in case he comes back!
- Why would he want your son, sir?
- John Spode's Resistance.
They want to control me
and get to me through my son.
What else could it be?
Call Harry Woods!
♪ I vow to thee, my country ♪
♪ All earthly things above ♪
♪ Entire and whole and perfect ♪
♪ The service of my love ♪
♪ The love that asks no questions ♪
♪ The love that stands the test ♪
♪ That lays upon the altar... ♪
- Douggie would have been safe with me.
- How the hell do you know?!
Schlussende, the Final Act.
It would have the ability
to wipe out an entire city.
Don't go home without me, will you?
We need nothing of you,
except loyalty to your country.
We all of us have to
take risks, Douglas.
We've taken one by telling you
as much as we have.
Don't go back there and say no deal.
- What if I did?
- Then they'd kill you.
You know too much now to be
allowed to stay uncommitted.
I'm going to give you
a lesson you will never forget.
I'm worried about you, Doug.
Being Huth's man.
It doesn't look good to some people.
Don't turn your back, man,
this is your doing.
[PIANO MUSIC]