Rembrandt died on the 4th of October 1669.

And in his last self-portraits, I think you see a sense of calm, and of resignation.

He had known so much turmoil and personal unhappiness, but at the end, he found an acceptance.

It was, perhaps, a triumph of art over life.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

We will be visiting Kenwood House on Tuesday.

There are still places left.

So, please, let me know if you wish to come.

Professor Van Haaren.

My dissertation...

I was wondering if -- The portrait of Jan Six?

Yes.

I'm halfway.

Some interesting insights.

We will talk next week.

STUDENT: Thank you.

[Gasps] No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

Uh!

You all right?

[Groaning] Come on.

You all right?

How are you?

I'm fine.

No bones broken.

Are you sure, really?

Thank you.

All right.

Take it easy.

-Thank you.

-Sorry.

♪♪ [Knock on door] MYERSON: Come in, Foyle.

I'm in a quandary.

I don't much like it, and I doubt you will either, but I inherited it, and there's not much I can do about it.

It needs tact.

Pieter Van Haaren.

Dutch, educated at the University of Leiden.

Expert on Dutch art, particularly Rubens and Rembrandt, now a lecturer in London.

That's the cover.

And the reality?

Karl Strasser.

Nazi.

SS Brigadefuhrer Karl Strasser was a desk soldier in SS Foreign Intelligence.

Arrested in Denmark at the end of the war.

Since then, he's been an extremely valuable intelligence asset with an almost unrivalled knowledge of Soviet spy networks.

It's in the file.

Mm-hmm.

MYERSON: He believes that he's in danger.

Says someone is planning to kill him.

Well, as a Nazi officer in Postwar Britain, is he surprised?

Up to now, his cover's held.

He lives in a boarding house, privately owned but controlled by us.

In fact, his entire life is carefully regulated.

But he keeps his head down.

and as far as we can tell, no one even suspects that he's German.

So?

Read the file.

Meet him.

Assess the situation, let me know what you think.

It would be annoying to have to move him and change his name, but if there really is any danger, we can't afford to lose him.

I see.

And don't let your personal feelings get in the way.

He was, after all, a senior German officer -- you may not like him.

You may be right.

MYERSON: Indeed.

Unfortunately, we need him.

JONES: They're smoking fags.

They're rude.

Half of them don't even go to school, and nobody's doing anything about it.

Well, that's -- that's not quite true, Mrs. Jones.

We've looked into this, and the report by Dame Myra Curtis will be published very soon.

It's all very well you having reports.

But I don't feel safe going out of the house.

Well, I'll talk to the police and we'll see if we can get some more officers on the beat.

The trouble is, nobody has any respect anymore.

Well, I'll see what I can do.

This way, Mrs. Jones.

Thank you, dear.

Can we talk to the superintendent?

I'll make a note of it, sir, but she was complaining about the police last week, so, uh... -Is there anyone else?

-One more.

He's not a constituent, though, so you don't have to see him.

Geoffrey Helliwell.

He's come up from Devizes.

Wiltshire?

HARRIS: I know.

Bit of a hike.

Well, show him in.

Mr. Helliwell, has somebody offered you some tea?

HELLIWELL: I don't want tea, thank you all the same.

Then how can I help you?

I want back what is mine.

There was a compulsory purchase order in 1938.

The farmhouse, the land, the whole works.

The RAF needed it -- 1,000 acres for bombing practice.

Well, it was the war.

I didn't argue.

I was glad to do my bit.

But I made it very clear.

It was only for the duration, then I'd buy it back.

That's what we agreed!

I wrote to you, Mr. Helliwell.

As I understand it, the land had risen in value.

Doubled in value!

In eight years?!

That's not possible!

There must have been an independent valuation!

Just how independent was it?!

That's what I want to know!

Your minister, Mr. Roper, won't tell me!

Why is he hiding behind you?!

HARRIS: You need to understand, this is a local surgery for issues relating to West Peckham.

That's what they all say!

Not my business!

Mr. Helliwell.

Where are you staying?

Kensington.

Maythorpe Hotel.

I'll talk to Mr. Roper.

I'm sure it's more straightforward than you think.

You lot think you can get away with this, but let me tell you, I know there's something dirty going on.

I can smell it!

MAN: Well, thank you very much, Mrs. Wainwright, and I'll see you next Wednesday.

We'll have the results of your tests by then.

And in the meantime, you look after yourself.

Thank you, Doctor.

-Miss Browne?

-BROWNE: Hello, Doctor.

Hello.

How was it?

I'm sorry?

The dentist.

Yes.

Absolutely fine, sir.

All in order.

Good.

How's Adam?

SAM: Busy.

FOYLE: Enjoying it?

SAM: Well, he is.

Truth is, I hardly see him now that he's become a private secretary.

I always used to tell him about my work.

These days, I feel if I open my mouth, and I'll be arrested.

Well, he'd understand that, wouldn't he?

He doesn't even notice.

He's got the minister, his party manager, constituents.

He hardly has any time left for me.

So, what is this place?

A nest of spies?

FOYLE: Yep.

But they're our spies.

SAM: Well, that's all right, then.

Yes?

Good morning.

I'm looking for a Professor Van Haaren.

He's not here.

If you want to see the professor, you should come back when the library's closed.

I see.

BRENDA: Yes.

He likes his books, the professor.

Old paintings and painters.

Can't see the fascination myself.

Who shall I say called?

My name's Foyle.

He can reach me any time on this number.

BRENDA: And what's this about?

It's just that he doesn't get that many visitors, Herr Van Haaren.

Likes to keep himself to himself.

Know what I mean?

FOYLE: You'll find he's expecting me.

Right.

How many people live here?

Three tenants.

Three rooms.

If you're looking for somewhere, I'm afraid you're out of luck.

No, no.

Just wondering.

Just nosey.

I don't mean to be rude, but we're not very sociable here.

It's just the way we are.

Do tell him I called.

If I see him, I'll let him know.

Professor Van Haaren?

I bet that's not his real name.

FOYLE: Why do you say that?

SAM: I don't know.

I suppose I don't trust anyone anymore.

FOYLE: Does that include me?

You and Adam are about the only people I do trust.

Did you notice there was someone watching you?

What was all that?

He said his name was Foyle.

I know.

I heard.

What does he want?

This phone number's Leconfield House.

I wonder if they know.

Know what?

About you and the professor.

How would they know about that?

Unless you told them.

PARRY-JONES: I'm on your side, Brenda.

Let's face it.

We both want the same thing.

And what's that?

We want him dead.

Mutinies?

They're not mutinies, they're strikes!

You can't go shooting members of the Royal Air Force.

The grievance is real!

Thank you, Adam.

Is there anything else?

I've got a briefing.

Actually, minister, there is one thing.

I had a visit at my surgery from a Geoffrey Helliwell.

Helliwell?

-Helliwell.

-From Devizes.

The man with the land.

Without the land -- he wants it back.

What's this?

To sign.

I had a look at the original contract.

The agreement to buy back was at the current market value.

It's what was agreed, and it was assessed by the local district valuer.

George Gibson.

You've been into the files?

ADAM: I thought I should take a look.

-You don't mind?

-No, not at all.

You can go round to his hotel and buy him a drink if you like.

You'll be wasting your time.

The land isn't with this department anymore.

It was transferred to Ag and Fish.

Could we do that?

Absolutely.

And right now, maximizing food production is this country's number one priority.

Practically an emergency, you know?

I don't need to tell you that.

ADAM: Yes, sir.

Sorry.

[Sighs] Do you want me to write to him?

ADAM: No, minister.

I'm sorry.

There's really no need.

Right, in that case, concentrate on these strikes.

The fact is, I'm inclined to sympathize.

We really should be bringing back these pilots and aircrew from Karachi and Delhi now before this whole thing blows up in our faces.

I'm a lone voice, of course.

-Adam.

-Problems, sir?

All right, mate?

VALENTINE: [Laughs] So, you pulled Strasser.

Bad luck.

Do you know him?

Not really.

No.

You should talk to Miss Pierce.

He was one of hers.

Well, doesn't surprise me.

He helped break up Red Five.

And what's that?

Oh, it's a Soviet network operating mainly out of Sweden, but it had its supporters here.

I can pull out some files for you if you like.

Thank you.

Did you ever meet him?

VALENTINE: I was in the same room but we didn't speak.

He was a big noise in the counterintelligence service of the Sicherheitsdienst.

Formidable knowledge of Soviet spy technique.

FOYLE: I didn't like him.

I found him arrogant.

Well, they all are.

And no active service?

Apparently not.

Spent the war behind a desk.

Saw which way the wind was blowing, then hotfooted it up to Copenhagen, just before Jerry packed it in.

Have you met him yet?

I've met his landlady.

Oh.

Brenda Stevens.

She used to work here on the switchboard.

She inherited the house from her mother.

She keeps an eye on some of the waifs and strays from SOE.

She's useful.

There's such a shortage of rooms in London.

Does she know who he really is?

Well, none of them do.

Thank you.

May I?

How did you find me?

I telephoned the hotel and they told me what had happened.

Then I spoke to the police.

They say it was straightforward robbery with violence.

They took my wallet with £10.

And my watch.

You think differently?

Well, it's quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say?

I come down complaining to you, and the next thing I know, I'm in here.

Mr. Helliwell, if I may say so, that is a ridiculous assertion.

Is it?

ADAM: Apart from anything else, I didn't tell anyone where you were staying.

[Groans] That's what you say.

Here's my telephone number.

If there's anything I can do for you -- You'll be the first person I'll call.

SAM: How is he?

ADAM: Well, he's a bit shaken up.

SAM: I'm sure.

It's terrible.

Did he have anything to say?

He wasn't too pleased to see me.

You don't think there's anything dodgy going on, do you?

ADAM: I don't know, Sam.

Charles Roper's a good man.

I've never met anyone more dedicated to his work.

He's been very kind to me.

But?

Well...he can't have had anything to do with this.

But the land doubling in value?

It just -- it just doesn't make any sense.

Farmland, food.

That could be worth quite a bit, couldn't it?

ADAM: I suppose so.

You said there was a local land valuer.

ADAM: George Gibson.

But he's left Devizes.

I wouldn't know where to start.

I could help you find him.

Goes with the job.

I can find out anything about anybody.

I could even find out about you.

And what secrets do you think I'm keeping from you, Mrs. Wainwright?

[Footsteps] Seriously.

Adam, if you're thinking it wasn't just a robbery... WATKINS: Quick, quick.

[Laughter] WATKINS: Boys, no running!

Miss Watkins.

Mr. Nelson.

[Laughs] It's good to see you.

Mr. Wilson is back.

And Mr. Hennessey.

You remember him?

Of course.

His production of "Julius Caesar" was 2A.

Very ambitious.

[Laughter] Is that a sweet in your mouth, Simmonds?!

Yes, Miss Watkins.

WATKINS: Spit it out, please, and put it into a handkerchief.

You know the rules.

Yes, Miss Watkins.

Here we are.

LEONARD: It's good to have you back again, Nelson.

1C hasn't been the same without you.

Thank you, Headmaster.

[Clears throat] When did you get back?

Uh, it's -- it's been a year now, sir.

It's...

Uh, 15 months.

But I -- I wasn't well.

Wounded?

Yes.

Yes, quite... [Clears throat] Quite badly.

Uh, September of '44.

In -- in France.

LEONARD: You're looking very fit.

Oh, they managed to patch me up.

But it's, um...

It's still been, um...slow.

LEONARD: Yes, well, I can understand.

And you're, uh -- you're still living with your sister?

Yes.

She's, uh -- she's putting me up.

She -- she was the one who -- who told me to write.

We'd be very happy to welcome you back to Hillstead.

As it happens, there might be a position for a junior French master.

And music, of course.

You still play?

Uh, sometimes.

LEONARD: Quite a number of the staff delayed their retirement for the duration of the war.

[Breathes heavily] LEONARD: Are you all right?

Yeah, I just, uh, get... uh...

Headaches now -- now and then.

Maybe it would be better if you had a little more rest before you return to the fray, hmm?

Shall we, uh... shall we leave it at that?

Yes, Headmaster.

[Knock on door, door opens] CHARLOTTE: Mr. Foyle?

I've just had a call from Professor Van Haaren.

He asked if you might meet with him this evening at the university library after his lecture.

What did you say?

I said you'd be there.

I would have asked Mrs. Wainwright, but she seems to have left early.

What time this evening?

7:00.

FOYLE: All right.

[Clears throat] STRASSER: Mr. Foyle?

Yes.

I am so glad to meet you.

Please.

Jan Six.

The son of a merchant.

A magistrate.

The mayor of Amsterdam.

And yet immortalized by this portrait painted in 1654.

You are familiar with the works of Rembrandt?

Not part of my brief.

STRASSER: I am sure this is not easy for you.

It is not easy for me either to ask you for help -- for protection.

I understand that's what you want.

I am aware that I have few friends here, but given that I have been of service to you, surely it is not too much to ask that you should consider whether I am safe.

Well, apparently, that's why I'm here.

You have read my file?

Yes.

I studied art history in Hamburg.

And law.

Very good.

And joined the SS in '33.

Yes.

I saw the way the wind was blowing, Mr. Foyle.

Perhaps that has been true of my whole life.

The book burning, the persecution, the Volksgericht -- people's court.

I make no apology.

I had to survive.

First counterintelligence, later in the Reich's Main Security Office.

You would have been too old to fight, I imagine.

But perhaps you had a son.

Have you been threatened?

Not threatened.

Not yet.

FOYLE: Protection from what, then?

I have become aware of a man who has been following me.

I cannot describe him to you, for he has always been too far away, and he disappears the moment I turn around.

But I have seen him four or five times.

How do you know it's the same man?

There is something about his gait, the way he stands.

-Is he in uniform?

-No.

A suit.

Mufti, I believe, is the correct word.

-And he's not approached you?

-No.

But in the last week, there have been telephone calls at the hostel and here at the library.

When I answer, there is silence at the other end.

And then, two days ago...

Delivered to the hostel.

It is live.

Well, this is standard issue, which is perhaps not a surprise.

Obviously, someone has recognized you.

He makes his point very clear.

Well, presumably there's a gun to go with the bullet.

I wonder why he hasn't used it.

It would seem to, um, have saved a lot of trouble.

Perhaps, I have not given him the opportunity.

How do you get from here to the hostel?

Sometimes I walk.

Sometimes I drive.

So, what will you do?

Well, there doesn't appear to be very much I can do.

I mean, it might be best if you were to move, or change your name, maybe?

That would be inconvenient.

That would be impossible.

What do you suggest?

Find this man.

Arrest him if you must.

Find out what it is that he has against me.

I'll see what I can do.

Is that all?

For the moment, yes.

Sir Alec.

Lieutenant General Hoyt Jackson, Army Navy Communications Intelligence Board.

I think you know Ray Donovan from the embassy.

-Yes.

We have met.

-Good to see you, Miss Pierce.

How can we help you gentlemen?

JACKSON: I'll get straight to the point, Sir Alec.

Karl Strasser.

SS Brigadefuhrer Karl Strasser.

Our Department of Justice wants him.

Miss Pierce?

I can't say I'm familiar with the name.

Then let me refresh your memory.

You picked him up in Roskilde in June last year and spirited him back to England.

You spent a year interrogating him, and since then, you've been using him for intelligence.

He may be in London.

I don't know.

But you do.

And I'd be very grateful if you could expedite an interview with him at the earliest opportunity.

As I'm sure both you gentlemen are aware, I was not part of this organization last June.

JACKSON: With respect, sir, you are now.

And I'm sure you were given a full assessment of the situation.

Of course, it's always possible he could be using another name.

But if that were the case, one of you would have given him that name.

I'll look into it.

Sir Alec, you haven't even asked why we want Strasser.

Do I need to know?

-Well, sir -- -I did not think so.

He's in charge.

She pulls the strings.

-Hard as nails.

-A bitch.

I have to say that I am very unhappy with this situation, Miss Pierce.

I dislike having to lie.

-To them?

-To anyone.

You say my predecessor went along with this arrangement?

Professor Van Haaren is very useful to us, Sir Alec.

He'd better be.

[Door closes] Oh.

It's you.

You're up late, Mr. Parry-Jones.

I can't sleep.

I never bloody sleep.

I wonder why.

Somebody broke into my room while I was in the library with you.

It was on my bed.

Any significance to this?

The significance is that the door was locked, and only I have the key.

What significance might there be to this?

Sunflower -- it was the name of an operation in Northern France.

Near Moretaine.

Sonnenblume.

An attempt to hold back the American advance.

And you were there?

It had nothing to do with the SS.

It was planned by the OKW, the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht.

It was in August, 1944.

There were...a great many casualties.

American, English, and German.

FOYLE: Who else was here last night?

Mr. Parry-Jones.

He came downstairs as I arrived.

Mr. Tchorek...he's Polish, speaks no English.

He was asleep, I believe.

And Mrs. Stevens, she was also in the house.

Do you have a window in your room?

Well, this, um, doesn't lock.

I am aware of that.

FOYLE: Easy enough to get in here.

They still need to know the location of my room.

And for that, they would have been told by someone inside.

You mean, someone here?

Or someone inside your organization, Mr. Foyle.

How well do you get on with the other residents?

I keep myself to myself.

Yeah, probably wise.

Why do you ask me these foolish questions, Mr. Foyle?

This is what I warned you would happen.

First the phone calls, then the bullet and now... that.

Well, a flower on your bed hardly constitutes a death threat.

A sunflower, Mr. Foyle!

It is a provocation.

Let me assure you.

This man knows where I am.

He is telling me he can reach me.

Next time, maybe soon, he will make his move.

Mm-hmm.

Are you waiting for someone?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.

And who would that be?

Do you live here?

Board here.

I wouldn't quite call it "living."

I recognize the car.

You're with Mr. Foyle.

I'm his driver.

Yes.

Leconfield House.

Don't worry, we're on the same side.

I don't suppose you're interested in dinner tonight?

Yes, I am.

Very interested.

But not with you, I'm afraid.

Shame.

[Speaking Polish] You should have told me who you were, Mr. Foyle.

I'd have been more helpful.

FOYLE: Yes, I'm sure.

So, um, heard nothing?

Any visitors last night?

I was in bed by 9:00.

Jewell and Warriss on the wireless, and a cup of cocoa.

That was it for me.

You'd have a key to his room, wouldn't you?

Of course.

I hardly know Professor Van Haaren.

I don't know anything about him.

I make it my business not to know, and nobody at the service tells me anything.

And the other tenants?

Mr. Tchorek and Mr. Parry-Jones?

Same.

If you want to talk to them, they'll be down at the Coach and Horses on Evelyn Street playing chess.

Have you ever been to Holland?

What's that got to do with anything?

Have you?

My husband's Dutch.

We met in Amsterdam.

I had a job at the Metropole Hotel, then we came back here.

He was killed in the war.

Run over in the blackout, silly sod.

He never saw active service.

The tenants have no idea of your connection with us?

Of course not.

I'm just the landlady.

That's all.

If anything strange happens, anything unusual, I report back.

Like this, for example?

That was very strange, definitely.

Anything else?

-The nurse.

-The nurse?

I put in a report two weeks ago.

A young woman came calling.

In her 20s.

Blonde.

Quite a pretty girl.

She said she was looking for a room, and I do get quite a few people knocking at the door.

But we got nattering and it seemed to me she was more interested in the professor.

Asked about him.

Just like you.

A nurse where?

Uniform of St. Mary's.

Paddington.

Go to the hospital, see what you can find out.

SAM: Yes, sir.

Oh.

You're sure it was St. Mary's?

I lived round the corner once.

I'd know it anywhere.

-And you'd recognize her again?

-Yes.

Would you be able to point her out to me?

Yes.

Right.

ADAM: Sir, these are the notes for the broadcast later tonight.

ROPER: Thank you.

You see, the problem is one of perception.

Our RAF boys are out there in India and we tell them we can't bring them all home just now -- they're preserving our regional interests.

Quite.

But what they see is ships reserved for GI brides and ships supplying the East Indies.

-Sir.

-While they're stuck there with malaria and dysentery and all the rest of it.

No wonder they're angry.

Are you all right, sir?

Yes, I'm all right.

I'm just...

I never thought government, at least, if you want to change anything, would be so bloody complicated.

No wonder the Tories prefer the status quo.

It's more relaxing.

You can send this.

Well done.

Thank you.

Did you hear any more from that chap Helliwell?

Uh, no, sir.

Charlotte, I wonder if you can help me?

Typewriter jammed again?

No.

I'm trying to find someone.

It's for Mr. Foyle.

He's trying to find their whereabouts.

Who is it?

His name is George Gibson.

He was a land valuer in Devizes, but he's moved.

That's all we know.

Well, it should be simple enough.

You can look at the electoral rolls, tax records, I.D.

cards.

And if he's moved, then he'll have left a change of address with the Post Office.

I'll check it out for you.

[Speaking Polish] PARRY-JONES: Foyle.

Christopher Foyle.

I feel I know the name.

Hill House.

It was a training center.

You were there briefly.

And you were SOE?

That's right.

Baker Street with Gubbins 'til the bitter end.

You were a policeman, I recall.

Well, that's right.

Never forget a name or a face.

Goes with the training.

But I can't help you, Mr. Foyle.

And he certainly can't.

[Speaking Polish] [Speaking Polish] He doesn't speak a word of English.

Shall I tell you something rather rum?

He was fluent once.

When I first met him -- that was at Hill House -- he could've passed as a country squire.

But now it's all gone.

Not a word.

What do you make of that?

It's very strange.

Yes.

It does strange things to you being captured and tortured by the Nazis.

[Speaking Polish] As ex-SOE, would an operation called Sunflower mean anything to you?

Sunflower?

Well, actually, um, Sonnenblume.

It was a German operation in Northern France a couple of years ago.

PARRY-JONES: No.

Never heard of it.

What's the connection?

I thought you were investigating a break-in.

Well, whoever broke in left behind a sunflower in the Professor's room.

A strange gift for a man studying Rembrandt, don't you think?

More appropriate for someone researching Van Gogh.

Colonel Jackson.

JACKSON: Miss Pierce.

I was wondering if you had time to reflect on our last night's conversation?

I think you should talk to Sir Alec.

Sir Alec will do what you tell him to do.

I think we all know that.

I can't help you.

I want Strasser.

I want him stateside.

I want you to know I'm not going to let you stand in the way.

I understand.

I'm not sure you do.

Any lack of cooperation on your part would be out of keeping with the Communication Intelligence Agreement, BRUSA, we signed with you last March.

We could terminate that agreement.

-I see.

-I'll go further.

It might also seriously compromise the various loans being discussed by my government with yours.

I know Strasser is useful to you, but we're not going to let you protect him.

[Children laughing, shouting] [Dog barking] MARY: I'm off, then.

What are you going to do today?

Maybe you'll hear from Mr. Leonard.

You said the interview went well.

Tommy... you know I hate leaving you like this, but I have to go to work.

For the both of us.

It's all the fault of this beastly war.

I wish you'd never gone.

[Gasps] Maybe... Maybe you should think about going back to Norton.

You were happier there.

We could write to Dr. Trevelyan.

I'm all right.

Of course you are.

Come with me for lunch if you fancy it.

12:00.

Otherwise, I won't be late.

-Come on!

-Keep doing it, Come on.

[Knocking on window] [Sighs] CRANSTON: How many RAF personnel do we now have in the Muar Camp in Kuala Lumpur and the Tel el-Kebir Camp in Egypt?

I believe the figure is about 30,000 in total.

CRANSTON: And you would deplore the reports that have been coming in.

No washing facilities, water in the tents... -Yes.

-Mud everywhere.

Yes, of course, Mr. Cranston, the conditions are deplorable.

And my ministry's -- Would you use the word "mutiny" to describe the men's action?

Absolutely not.

I would say they have a grievance and should be listened to.

ROPER: What do you think?

ADAM: I thought it went very well.

You sounded concerned.

ROPER: I am concerned.

ADAM: I meant, you managed to handle the issue of the strikes perfectly.

ROPER: Yeah, an impertinent question.

What does he think we're trying to do?

HELLIWELL: Roper!

ADAM: Mr. Helliwell.

ROPER: It's all right, Adam.

Yeah.

It's all right.

What do you think I'm going to do?

Hit him with my crutches?

ROPER: Mr. Helliwell, what can I do for you?

I just want you to know that this isn't over.

You can lie to me, you can set your thugs on me, but one day I'll get to the truth about my land.

I promise ya.

Thugs?

[Clock strikes hour] STRASSER: Thank you for coming.

FOYLE: Well, you asked to see me.

I cannot concentrate on my work while all this is happening.

I have to know what you have done, what you have found out.

Well, very little.

I spoke to the other residents, and to the landlady.

-Mrs. Stevens?

-Yes.

I wonder... what do you think about her?

She's an attractive woman.

Well, she couldn't tell me very much, and neither could the others.

The truth is, there's little more I can do.

So, what do you suggest?

Well, the same as I suggested the last time.

Your best advice is to move.

I told you, I do not wish to do that.

I fly to France, to Holland, to Denmark.

I hide for a month, a year.

This has already been offered to me.

How does it help?

Well, the further away you are, the better, I'd say.

You have not helped.

You have done nothing!

That's a fair assessment.

[Gunfire] STRASSER: [Screams] Uh!

Gottverdamt!

This is your fault!

You do nothing!

Now you see!

How bad is it?

It's just a scratch.

Now, Mr. Foyle, will you do something?!

BRENDA: That's her there with the blond hair.

[Bicycle bell rings] Thank you, Mrs. Stevens.

VALENTINE: Where have you been?

How's Strasser?

FOYLE: He'll survive.

Not for much longer, the way things are going on.

What do you know about him?

-I told you.

-No, I mean, really know?

Listen, I'm not going to pretend I like having you here.

I never thought it was a good idea to recruit a policeman.

You don't fit in.

But between you and me, I'm not always proud of what we get up to here either, and, quite frankly, I despise the idea of protecting a bloody Nazi.

That's not why I joined intelligence.

You haven't answered the question.

VALENTINE: [Laughs] Sir Alec wants to see you.

The building's in an uproar.

This situation is out of control -- a shootout in London.

It's not Chicago.

This is intolerable.

-I agree.

-MYERSON: And no arrest?

Well, you must have some idea of what's going on.

Well, it all seems to be connected with a German operation in Northern France in '44 called Sunflower.

Would that mean anything to you?

I mean, it's not impossible that Strasser is being targeted by one of the residents at the hostel, but I don't think that's likely.

Why not?

Well, the bullet, the sunflower.

I mean, why beat about the bush?

Just shoot him in the bath.

Wouldn't you?

PIERCE: Make absolutely sure he's safe.

That's our number one priority.

MYERSON: Where is he now?

-He's back at the hostel.

Right, men on guard, round the clock.

We'll do as Miss Pierce says.

24-hour protection.

But I want him moved at the first opportunity.

That's all.

One last thing, Foyle.

Who is George Gibson?

PIERCE: You had him traced to a house in Croydon.

You authorized a tap on his phone.

MYERSON: What's this all about?

Red Five.

It's a network that Strasser helped us break up.

-Could be a link.

-This man Gibson?

Could be part of it.

Right.

Well, keep at it.

Thank you.

Red Five?

I thought it was dormant.

This is getting out of hand.

[Typewriters typing] SAM: It was wrong of me, sir.

I should have asked you first.

FOYLE: Absolutely right.

SAM: I wanted to help Adam.

FOYLE: Commendable, but nothing like a good enough excuse.

They could prosecute you for this.

You must be careful.

How many times do you need to be told?

What's this land used for?

SAM: Food production.

Ministry of Agriculture.

But there must be something wrong, because the land value has doubled in just eight years.

And Gibson was the valuer?

SAM: Yes, sir.

And if Mr. Roper's up to no good, then where does that leave Adam?

Thank you for helping me, sir.

Well, I'm trying to save my own skin as well.

Got to get myself out of the lie I've just told for you.

SAM: Nothing?

FOYLE: Let's try round the back.

Mr. Gibson?

-Yes.

-I'm sorry, we did ring.

Oh, that's all right.

What can I do for ya?

Um, broad beans and peas.

I'm afraid you're about three months early.

FOYLE: No, no, no, no.

We understand you used to live in Devizes?

20 years.

This is my wife's mum's place.

When she died, we decided to move back to London.

I don't know you, do I?

No, no, no, the name's Foyle.

This is -- Samantha Wainwright.

Hello.

What can I do for you?

I wonder how much you'd be able to tell us about the valuation on a piece of land that used to belong to a family called Helliwell in Devizes.

I don't know anything about it.

SAM: It was you who made the valuation, Mr. Gibson.

No.

Well, it might have been.

I can't remember.

FOYLE: Well, this was a piece of farmland about 1,000 acres, subject to a compulsory purchase order.

What?

I don't know anything about it.

Who are you, anyway?

We're with the security service.

My I.D.

GIBSON: What?

Look, I can't help you.

I did loads of valuations.

I can't remember all of them.

I have nothing more to say to you.

There's a call.

[Ringing] Hello?

Leaving us, Professor?

STRASSER: For a short while, Mrs. Stevens.

Just a week or two.

Going somewhere nice?

I think I will drive down to Brighton.

BRENDA: Get some sea air?

Why don't you go for a nice swim?

[SOFTLY] Drown yourself while you're at it.

STRASSER: Good morning.

HELSBY: You're off, then?

Yes.

It's all right, gentlemen.

The car is just here.

We'll be here when you get back.

STRASSER: I hope so.

We don't need to waste any more time hanging around here.

Let's get back to HQ.

[Explosion] I can't believe you did this.

SAM: Well, you'd have done the same for me.

Sam... What?

No, seriously.

You shouldn't have.

Why not?

Because... you can't just eavesdrop on someone because you think they're up to no good.

But I was right, wasn't I?

It doesn't make any difference.

I was doing this for you!

What about you?

Does Foyle know?

Yes.

ADAM: Did he approve?

Not exactly.

I'm not surprised.

I mean, what's going to happen if someone finds out?

You could lose your job.

I could lose my job?

I was trying to help you, Adam.

You started this.

You said there was something wrong.

And there's the proof of it right there in your hands.

I can't believe you're not more grateful.

Of course I'm grateful.

Thank you.

But this isn't just illegal, it's...unthinkable.

They took him away in two pieces.

Grenade attached to the steering column -- fairly simple booby trap.

Strasser pulled the pin out when he opened the door.

It's an old SOE trick.

Is it now?

What happened to the two men that were meant to be looking after him?

Well, dereliction of duty springs to mind.

And no one thought to...

Check the car before he got in?

Precisely.

We were supposed to be looking after him.

Why didn't you move him after the shooting?

Sir Alec wants to see you immediately.

We're going to have to talk to the Americans.

We were about to hand him over!

JACKSON: I think you have some explaining to do, Mr. Foyle.

FOYLE: There's little to explain.

You know he was here under a Dutch pseudonym.

He was in touch because he believed his life was at risk as a result of anonymous letters and phone calls.

That was before you approached us.

And I was asked to look into it.

JACKSON: Seems like you didn't look hard enough.

I take equal responsibility with Mr. Foyle.

DONOVAN: I think you're being unfair, Colonel.

I'm sure these gentlemen did everything they could.

Well, we didn't have a lot of time.

I only met him a few days ago and things moved rather rapidly.

Someone broke into his room.

There was an attempt to shoot him and now, of course, this.

DONOVAN: Someone had blown his cover?

So he believed.

A sunflower was left in his room, which seemed to have significance for him.

You're right there, Mr. Foyle.

It relates to an operation in which Strasser was involved.

Sonnenblume.

That's Kraut for "Sunflower."

Northern France, 1944.

And what happened there?

All you need to know is that 26 American soldiers died in what we believe was a war crime.

Strasser was behind a desk in Berlin.

That's what he says.

May I make an observation, Colonel Jackson?

JACKSON: Please, go ahead, Miss Pierce.

Well, no matter what the truth is about Strasser, there can be no doubt that the information he gave us saved lives, both British and American.

A great deal of what we know about Russian intelligence is down to him.

The point being?

I make no apology for using him.

The stakes are too high.

But he's dead.

That's the end of it.

The matter is closed.

Closed?

We have been made to look fools, so that's enough on the matter.

BOY #1: Go on, kick it!

Ah!

Thanks, Missus.

BOY #2: Come on.

Get him.

Ah!

He never got to Brighton.

He told you where he was going?

Last time we spoke.

He said he was off.

And then I heard it -- an almighty bang.

So, you're not exactly grief-stricken?

Well, he just boarded here.

I hardly knew him.

Well, I think you knew exactly who he was.

Oh, yes?

Well, you knew he was German.

German?

FOYLE: I think you knew.

What makes you think that?

Well, the first time we met, you called him Herr Van Haaren.

"Herr Van Haaren."

Not "Professor Van Haaren," not "Mijnheer Van Haaren."

You were married to a Dutchman.

If you really believed that Van Haaren was Dutch, you'd have said "Mijnheer."

You knew he was German.

All right.

I knew exactly who he was.

And what he was.

Yet, you had a relationship with him?

Who told you that?

He did.

In as many words.

[Sighs] My husband's dead.

I'm alone.

I did briefly know Herr Strasser.

I gave myself to him, Mr. Foyle.

To a German.

A Nazi.

Have you any idea how that makes me feel?

And when I found out, when I confronted him, do you know what he did?

He laughed.

It just goes to show, they're all the same under the skin -- the master race.

He thought it was funny that he'd had his way with some poor, stupid English woman, and I couldn't be more pleased the bastard's dead.

How did you find out who he was?

I knew he wasn't Dutch.

I knew it from the moment I met him.

How did you know?

I took a shufti in his room.

Don't ask about the lock.

Easy enough to pick, and easier still as Mrs. Stevens keeps the spare keys in the kitchen.

And then what?

Would you believe he'd kept his Wehrpass?

It's his military record book.

It seems he wasn't so ashamed of his past after all.

And you told her who he was?

Had an idea the two of them were having the oh-be-joyfuls.

I thought she ought to know.

A hand grenade device in a car would be fairly familiar to you.

Basic SOE training.

I can see where you're going with that, Mr. Foyle.

But I didn't kill him, and I'll tell you why.

I hate the Nazis for what they did to Europe, to the Jews, to the agents I knew personally, to poor Edward here.

Strasser was undoubtedly a Nazi, whatever Hilda Pierce may have told you.

Did you know what the life expectancy of an SOE agent was during the war, Mr. Foyle?

[Speaking Polish] [Speaking Polish] Six weeks.

But they still volunteered.

Young men and women like Edward here.

When it was all over, what did they do?

They gave up on us.

Right now they're disbanding us.

Well, they're picking a few of us for MI-5 and MI-6.

And the rest?

Not wanted.

Not needed.

Thank you and goodbye.

A new world.

PARRY-JONES: Exactly.

A new world where we protect and look after Nazis, because they're useful to us.

What does that make us, do you think?

Makes you wonder what it was all for.

[Speaking Polish] MAN: See you later.

All right.

MAN: I'll be back in an hour, sir.

ROPER: Right-o.

Something else, Adam?

Yes, I'm afraid there is, sir.

It's about this business with the land near Devizes.

I thought we'd agreed to let that lie.

I tried to but I couldn't.

Not after Geoffrey Helliwell was attacked.

You told me he was the victim of a robbery.

Or an attempt to intimidate him.

Is that what you think?

The Helliwell property was revalued on 28th July last year.

The valuer, George Gibson, lied when he made that valuation.

He actually doubled the land value to prevent the owners from buying it back.

Did he tell you this?

No, sir.

Well, even supposing it's true, why are you bringing it here?

Because Mr. Gibson was acting on instructions given by you.

He was interviewed yesterday and immediately afterwards, he telephoned you, here, in your private office.

This is a transcript of that telephone call.

May I ask how you acquired this?

I'm afraid I can't tell you.

Well...seems pointless for me to deny it since you have it here in black and white.

I suppose I should congratulate you on a job well done.

Aren't you curious as to why I wanted the land?

Was it for money?

Money?

Yes, it was the money.

Geoffrey Helliwell is a developer.

He wants the land to build on and squeeze for as much money as he can get.

And, yet, Adam, what is the single greatest challenge facing this country at the moment?

Food production.

If I could keep 1,000 acres of prime farming land out of the hands of a grasping profiteer and under the plow, I consider I'd be doing my duty.

You don't agree?

It's -- it's still a fraud.

I put my country first.

You should learn something about politics, Adam.

If you really want to help your country, sometimes you have to make uncomfortable decisions.

Lying?

Breaking the law?

Who's seen this?

No one.

Who's going to?

I see.

Get out.

It sickens me, Adam.

Sickens me...that you should think I was in it for the money.

[Door opens, closes] SAM: I cross-checked the flats with the hospital records.

Her name's Mary Nelson.

She lives on the fourth floor.

[Knock on door] You see, we need to know why you were at the hostel at Breacon Street.

Is this about Tommy?

Who is Tommy?

MARY: He's my brother.

He sent me there.

He wanted to know about a Dutchman who had a room there.

A professor.

Professor Van Haaren.

MARY: Yes.

Why did he want to know?

MARY: Well, he didn't tell me.

He saw him at the university library.

It was quite by chance.

Tommy saw him and, well, after that it was like an obsession.

What did you tell him?

Not very much.

Only what the lady told me.

He'd been there for three months.

He had a room on the top floor.

Has...something happened?

Has Tommy done something?

Do you know where he is?

I've got no idea.

I've been so worried about him.

Tommy was very badly injured after D-Day.

He was in Normandy.

He was shot in the head.

He never talked to me about it, but the truth is, he never recovered.

Not -- not really.

Uh, it took him a year to recover physically.

And then he went to a hospital in Reading -- a wonderful place called Norton Park.

They tried to put him back together again, you know, mentally.

SAM: Do you think he could have gone back there?

I don't know.

I suppose so.

I don't know why I didn't think of it first.

Do you remember the name of his doctor?

How do you do, Mr. Foyle?

John Trevelyan.

-How do you do?

-Welcome to Norton.

Thomas Nelson is a patient of yours?

Yes.

He came back to us yesterday.

But I'm a bit concerned about him speaking to you.

Why would that be?

Mr. Nelson has been severely traumatized by what happened to him in Normandy.

It's still very difficult for him to talk about it.

FOYLE: He talks to you.

Well, he talks within a group.

That's what we do here.

In that environment, Tom can face up to what happened to him.

But alone it is much more difficult.

Well, I understand the need to protect the patient, but the truth is, he could be in an awful lot of trouble and at some point, he'll need to speak.

If you talk to him, you talk to him under my supervision.

Fair enough.

I, uh...

I was with the Royal Artillery in -- in France.

Captain... Captain Thomas Nelson, reporting for duty.

[Gasping] It's all right, Tom.

You don't have to do this.

I was...

I was attached to a -- a U.S. Army field artillery unit.

Observe.

Report back.

Weaponry.

Tactics.

It was, um...

It was a good -- good -- good bunch.

All, uh, very, very young and far from home.

And, uh, I was with them when it, um -- when it... [Gunfire] When it all went wrong.

MAN: Get on the ground!

We'd, uh... We'd got separated.

We were trapped behind enemy lines.

A farmhouse in a place called... Mmm-- Mmm-- Moretaine.

It was...hopeless.

[Shouting, machine-gun fire, glass breaking] MAN: Sergeant!

We're surrendering!

Prepare a white flag!

Destroy all documents and signaling gear.

Move it!

And then...we -- we went out.

Honorable surrender.

Conventions of war.

Not this time.

Not this time.

Fire!

[Crying] I somehow, uh, managed to get away.

And all I can remember... are the sunflowers.

The farm was... was surrounded by sunflowers.

And, uh... And I...

I thought I could... STRASSER: [Whistling] Hide in the field.

[Crying] [Insect buzzing] [Gunshot] The...

The bullet didn't -- didn't kill me.

I don't know why not.

A French woman found me.

And I was...

I was the only one left.

She -- she -- she looked after me.

The name of the German officer?

Uh, it was the -- the 12th SS Panzer Division.

I -- I never found out his name.

But you saw him again.

Yes.

A few weeks ago in London.

He was coming out of a library.

Did you kill him?

Yes.

ROPER: "It has been a privilege to serve in your government, and to have taken part in the huge reforms that this country so badly needs.

So, it is with deep regret that I tender my resignation.

It is also not my intention to stand at the next general election, and I will make this clear in due course.

Yours sincerely, Charles Roper."

Thank you, Lottie.

Good night, sir.

HARRIS: What have you done?

What exactly have you done?

ADAM: I didn't know he'd resign.

HARRIS: What choice did he have?

I don't know what to say to you, Adam.

You lost your position as a PPS.

After this, no one in the party is going to want to touch you.

The government has lost an effective and committed minister.

And maybe the country has lost 1,000 acres of agricultural land.

So, what exactly have we gained here?

You told him, didn't you?

What?

Told him what?

Roper knew Helliwell hadn't left London, that he was staying in a hotel.

I didn't tell him.

Someone else must have.

I kept him informed.

He's my friend.

ADAM: Did you also tell him the name of the hotel?

Sorry, what are you -- what are you saying?

Are you suggesting one of us arranged to have him beaten up?

Well, maybe you should have a look at this.

That's a police report.

They found the men responsible for the assault on Helliwell.

Part of a well known gang.

Nothing to do with Roper.

There's a bunch of constituents outside.

Mrs. Jones is back.

We'd better have them in.

SAM: It's all my fault.

ADAM: No, it wasn't.

You were right.

I started it.

You know, I still can't believe you did that for me.

Yes.

And look where it got you.

Well, I'm still an MP.

Glenvil will come round eventually.

I do wonder, though.

What?

Well, he asked me what I'd actually achieved, and I wasn't sure I had an answer for him.

-Well, I have.

-Go on.

What you've achieved was everything I married you for.

You stayed true to your beliefs.

You didn't let anyone bully you into turning a blind eye.

You may have been wrong about the attack at the hotel, but you were right about everything else, and that's what matters.

Mr. Roper was a crook.

I know it's not as simple as that, but we can't have politicians lying and breaking the rules just because it suits them... That's exactly what I did.

Then what was the point of winning the war we've just been through?

That's what we should really be thinking about.

What sort of world are we trying to create?

-Sam -- -But there's something else.

It rather matters to me just now because I've just been at the hospital and the doctor has said that contrary to medical opinion, I'm about to introduce somebody else into that world.

Six months from now.

I've been dying to tell you all day, but so much had been happening, I didn't get a chance.

A baby?

You are amazing.

You are amazing.

I can't think why you'd want to see it.

Just a feeling.

Miss Pierce won't like it.

In fact, she'd have my guts for garters if she knew I'd authorized this.

Why have you?

You did me a great kindness, Foyle.

You could have caused me a lot of trouble and you chose not to.

And another thing.

I'm wondering what you're up to.

Is this what you're looking for?

His SS tattoo?

A lot of SS officers had these.

Partly medical, partly for identification.

That way you can check his records, find out everything you need to know.

Anything else?

No.

I understand that you've been investigating the death of Karl Strasser -- the two of you.

We've been making enquiries.

MYERSON: Enquiries?

You're not a policeman, Valentine.

Why are you talking like one?

You saw the body.

Who authorized that?

There were unanswered questions, sir.

The only unanswered question is why you chose to undermine my authority.

It's the case then, is it, that your authority has been behind all decisions relating to Strasser?

What are you talking about?

Oh, I think you know very well.

Enlighten me.

I'm talking about the massacre of American troops at the village of Moretaine two years ago, and the extent to which you know about this, and of Strasser's involvement.

What I knew or didn't know is irrelevant.

FOYLE: Well, I'll take that as a yes.

Strasser was recognized by a survivor of that massacre, a British soldier, Thomas Nelson.

He sent the bullet, he placed the sunflower in Strasser's room.

Strasser personally tried to kill Nelson and as a result, unsurprisingly, Nelson is now a very sick man and made an attempt to shoot and kill Strasser.

He believes he succeeded.

He's wrong, he missed.

He didn't miss with the grenade.

He had nothing to do with the grenade.

You did.

Or rather, the grenade was placed in the car by this department with your authority.

Why would we do that?

Well, to avoid having to deliver him to the Americans who justifiably want him for war crimes.

You used the coincidence of Nelson's vendetta to arrange the murder in the belief that Nelson would take the blame.

PIERCE: Absurd idea.

We were about to hand him over.

From our point of view, it's regrettable that he's dead.

And a pointless exercise killing your asset.

I agree.

Then why are you suggesting that we did?

I'm not, because you haven't.

He's alive.

Isn't he?

MYERSON: And what led you to that conclusion?

FOYLE: Well, odd, to start with, that a man attempting to avoid justice and escape with his life should tell his landlady precisely where he's going.

You saw the body, Foyle.

I saw a corpse.

I saw a headless corpse that had been given Strasser's tattooed military I.D.

With absolutely no sign whatsoever of the wound that he got when Nelson took a shot at him.

[Gunshot] Gottverdamt, this is your fault!

Where is he?

Where is he?

You...

In a safe place.

And what are you going to do with him?

He's leaving first thing tomorrow.

It's better for all concerned that he's not seen for a while.

We can't do this.

Oh, for heaven's sake, grow up, Valentine.

Karl Strasser is an invaluable source of information to us.

I have no more fondness for these labyrinthine schemes than you do, but if they work, I am not going to argue.

The greater good?

Exactly, Foyle.

That's all.

MAN: The plane's approaching, sir.

[Insects buzzing] STRASSER: [Whistling] [Whistling continues] Please!

Please don't!

[Gunshot] How did you know?

How did you know we were here?

You said he was leaving this morning.

How else would he leave the country?

STRASSER: So, you saw through our little stratagem.

Yes.

And you've come to say goodbye?

I have nothing to say.

Then why have you come?

Doubtless I disgust you.

It was war, Mr. Foyle.

Towards the end, it is my belief Himmler knew the war was lost and he wanted to incriminate us, to dirty our hands, so that we could not claim that we were merely Schreibtischtater -- desk criminals.

That was how I came to find myself in Northern France in 1944.

What you did wasn't war.

STRASSER: It was chaos.

We were already retreating.

26 American soldiers.

I couldn't have taken them prisoner, even if I'd wanted to.

It was not possible.

I make no apology, Mr. Foyle.

You can go to hell as far as I'm concerned.

Your people need me now.

Your role was to help me and this is exactly what we did.

We will not meet again.

I believe you're absolutely right.

You told them?

The Americans?

Foyle?

You're a traitor to the service.

It wasn't Foyle.

It was me.

Arthur?

VALENTINE: I take full responsibility.

It was a step too far.

That man...we end up by working with him, we're no better than he is.

Miss Pierce, I think you have some explaining to do.

Karl Strasser, Lieutenant Colonel Hoyt Jackson.

I'm taking you into the custody of the United States Department of Justice.

♪♪ SAM: Where to, sir?

Good question.

♪♪