"Look at them." "Couldn't march their way out of a paper bag." "Strange, isn't it?" "Hitler said there'd be a thousand of us." "In the end, he couldn't even manage 30." "Not the most glorious episode in military history, I'd say." "Do you think we'll be hanged or shot?" "Mind you, in Carrington's case, it might be neither." "He might get lucky and die of the clap first." "Are you talking to me today?" "Which would you choose?" "Hanging or shooting?" "I'm all for hanging." "It's quieter." "Strange, isn't it?" "The two of us ending up here." "We could start a reunion club." "Hang together." "# Muss i' denn, muss i' denn" "# Zum Staedtele hinaus, # Staedtele hinaus" "# And du mein Schatz bleibst hier... #" "Bis spaeter." "Ja?" "What did I tell you?" "One of the most beautiful cities in Europe!" "And some of the most beautiful women." "Life isn't too bad." "It's a raid." "Huh?" "No." "They're on their way somewhere else." "James, let's eat." "Hilfe!" "Hilfe!" "DS McDonald." "DI Jones." "How do you do?" "DI Morgan." "Sergeant Rowle." "How do you do?" "Sergeant Parrs." "Mr Foyle." "Yes." "I'm DCS Clarkeson." "I know who you are." "How do you do?" "Pleased to meet you." "Come in." "I'm here to replace you." "Well, so I understand." "What kept you?" "You'll be pleased to hear, everything's in order." "It's in my report." "I'll leave that there." "It doesn't mention that anything related to current investigations you'll find in this office here." "Pre-war and war-time records are kept next door." "Ask the desk sergeant." "He'll be happy to help." "I think that's about it." "Erm... congratulations on the post." "Or commiserations, whichever you think is appropriate." "And... jolly good luck." "Er - Pleasure to meet you." "Goodbye." "Good luck, sir." "I've now had the opportunity to examine your accounts, Mr Wainwright." "Here we have your outgoings." "General expenses, salaries, supplies, etc." "And here we have payments in." "It would seem this is not a felicitous time for the catering and hotel business in Hastings." "Things are bound to pick up eventually, Mr Harmworth." "That may be the case, but here you are, asking us to extend your overdraft limit." "Just for a few months." "You've overstepped that limit on three occasions." "I see no evidence here that your situation will improve in the near future." "Well, it can't get any worse!" "I wish I shared your confidence, Miss Stewart." "I'm sorry." "Not only can the bank not help you, but I must ask you to take immediate steps to clear your existing overdraft... ..taking whatever actions are necessary." "Thank you." "Good day." "I'm sorry, Sam." "Don't be." "No." "You don't understand." "I won't be able to pay you this month." "Well, that's OK." "You didn't pay me last month, so it's not as if I'll notice." "You are a sport." "We'll make a go of it somehow." "I know we will." "What shall we do now?" "Cup of tea at Lyons?" "No." "We ought to get back." "Sometimes I wish the whole bloody guesthouse would just..." "I don't know, disappear." "You ought never to have taken it on." "I had this romantic view it would sort of run itself." "Instead it's been an absolute nightmare." "The only good thing to come out of it is... well... ..meeting you." "Ah..." "Oh, sod it." "Let's go to Lyons." "Can we afford it?" "We can go halves on a currant bun." "Here you are, Christopher." "I had a devil of a job getting them." "I managed to square the visa with the Americans, but, as for the Queen Mary, she's been requisitioned." "For military and naval use only." "I could've tried sending you as a GI bride." "I don't think it would've worked." "I wonder why!" "So what has happened?" "I had a word with the MOI." "You're departing Southampton on the 17th." "If anyone asks, you're on a sponsored lecture tour, all right?" "Fine." "Remember, it's my neck on the line." "I will." "I'm grateful." "Thank you." "There are times when I really don't understand you." "Why's that?" "The war is finally, completely over." "The Japanese surrender." "This new bomb they're talking about..." "Makes me feel like we're entering a new world." "I'd agree." "But you refuse to let go of the old one." "Unfinished business?" "I thought you'd retired." "Oh, not quite the case." "Resigned." "Well, take care." "America may not take too kindly to an ex-detective chief superintendent from Hastings, sniffing around, asking awkward questions." "I'll take the chance." "Well then, good luck." "Thank you." "Late edition!" "Read all about it!" "Devereaux stands trial for treason." "Mr Foyle, sir." "Oh." "How do you do?" "How do you do?" "Please sit down, Mr Foyle." "Thank you." "Have you been offered tea?" "I won't, thank you very much." "Let's get straight to the point, then." "You want to talk to me about my client, James Devereaux." "Well, not so much about him as the unit he belonged to in Germany." "The British Free Corps?" "That's right." "How much do you know about them?" "Not as much as we'd like to." "A meeting with your client could prove enormously helpful." "How much do you know?" "It was just a propaganda exercise, really, wasn't it?" "One of Hitler's crazier ideas." "Get a bunch of misfits and ne'er-do-wells out of the POW camps, dress them up in German uniforms with Union Jacks, send them off to fight against the Russians." "My client was picked up in Dresden, what was left of it." "For a few months he was missing, believed dead, then the Russians handed him over." "I may as well tell you now... it's almost certain he'll hang." "We're talking about traitors, Mr Foyle." "William Joyce, Lord Haw-Haw." "John Amery, son of the Secretary of State for India." "The whole lot of them." "They're only getting what they deserve." "I think you'd agree." "There are those who think that a series of trials, treason trials, could be counterproductive." "And you've been asked to look into it." "Well, I could try to arrange a meeting, but, I should warn you now, it may be a complete waste of time." "He refuses to talk to me." "Not a word." "Perhaps he feels you've given up on him." "He's given up on himself." "It's almost as if he wants to die." "Well, far be it for me to stand in the way of the police or the intelligence services." "I'll see what I can do." "Thank you." "He... he did join the Nazis, Mr Foyle." "He's admitted to it." "And for what it's worth," "I'd try to defend him if he'd let me, but he won't." "There's really nothing more I can do." "Right." "She's upstairs, sir." "Sir." "She's been strangled, sir, with a nylon stocking." "I bet you she'd been saving it up for after the war." "Does she have a name?" "Agnes Lyttleton." "She rents the room from a Mrs Ramsay." "She's downstairs." "Who found her?" "She did." "Mrs Ramsay." "So, what do you think, sir?" "Boyfriend comes home, finds her canoodling with some Yank?" "It wouldn't be the first time." "I can't believe such a thing could happen in my home." "I just can't believe it." "When did you know something was wrong?" "Well, this morning." "She didn't come down for breakfast and..." "I thought she'd overslept." "Were you here last night?" "No." "I was playing bridge with some friends." "I didn't arrive home until about ten o'clock." "I was here, in the house last night, and all the time she was..." "You want some more tea?" "No." "No, thank you." "Thank you..." "Erm... did she have a job?" "Did she work here in Brighton?" "Just outside." "White Friars." "I'm sure you know it." "The family estate of the Devereaux." "Did she have any friends?" "Or any visitors?" "She did have a friend." "Erm..." "Sylvie, I think her name was, a stablegirl." "And there was a young man, but he was a prisoner of war in Germany." "He wrote to her regularly, though." "Most of the prisoners of the German camps have returned home now." "He hasn't been here?" "No." "Miss Lyttleton would have asked me first." "She was that sort of girl." "Very considerate." "Mrs Ramsay..." "What can you tell me about this?" "Isn't that the frame from her... her bedroom?" "It is, yes." "But... the photograph is missing." "Do you know who the photograph was of?" "Did you see it?" "It wasn't my habit to enter her room, but I did glimpse it." "A young man in uniform." "I can't tell you much more than that." "Where do you think it's gone?" "Cor!" "Quite a place, sir." "It certainly is." "To live somewhere like this, you wouldn't even know there's been a war." "Dreadful thing to have happened, and I'm very sorry to hear it." "Agnes was a very pleasant girl." "I can't imagine anyone would want to hurt her." "I'm afraid I can't help you, Detective Inspector." "I engaged Miss Lyttleton nine months ago, to help me with a project I'm working on." "What is that, sir?" "A history of the Devereaux family." "It required a considerable amount of research." "Been here long, sir?" "We were given this land by William the Conqueror." "Miss Lyttleton worked here for six hours a day." "Excellent shorthand, very diligent." "Apart from that, I know nothing about her at all." "What about her family or friends?" "Mr Milner, she was my secretary, not my confidante." "And, apart from that, I have absolutely nothing more to say." "Jane?" "Please excuse me, gentlemen." "Detective Inspector!" "I'm very sorry, the way my husband spoke to you just now." "He didn't mean to be rude, but you've come at a very difficult time." "He has a son..." "who's in a great deal of trouble." "Please don't ask me to explain, but you have no idea how ill it's made him." "And if he spoke off-handedly, I can only apologise on his behalf." ""He has a son..." I take it that he's not your son, Mrs Devereaux?" "No." "I'm Charles's second wife." "He lost his first wife, Caroline, almost 20 years ago." "And Agnes Lyttleton?" "I'm afraid I can't tell you much about her." "We hardly spoke." "She was living with our housekeeper, Mrs Ramsay." "Mrs Ramsay works here?" "She used to." "She's retired." "Miss Lyttleton had always lived in Brighton, at least for the last few years, but her house was bombed." "She needed somewhere to live, so we recommended her to Mrs Ramsay." "Thank you." "Gentleman to see Prisoner 484." "Hello." "The name's Foyle." "Did they tell you who I am?" "I understand you were reluctant to see me." "Thank you for agreeing anyway." "Anything to get out of my cell." "Ah, I see." "Did they tell you why I'm here?" "You're a policeman." "You want to know about the British Free Corps." "That's about the strength of it, yes." "Do you mind if I sit down?" "Erm... what can you tell me?" "I understand why you don't want to talk." "Not a pleasant subject." "But you have agreed to see me." "I've nothing to read." "The people here aren't chatty." "I don't get many visitors." "Right." "No family?" "I don't want to see my family." "Why would that be?" "Listen, there's an understanding that there are various reasons why people are or have become Nazi sympathisers." "In the case of members of the British Free Corps, it seems important to establish to what extent that sympathy is genuine or to what extent coercion has been involved." "Why did you join?" "Are you sorry the Germans lost, that Hitler's dead?" "Did you want them to win?" "I don't care who won." "Is that really the case?" "Thousands of people dead." "Everywhere burnt out." "Theatres, museums, all rubble." "What difference does it make?" "Is this Dresden you're talking about?" "I understand you were there." "I was in a lot of places." "Dunkirk, as well, I gather, and... served with distinction, according to your men." "So it's very difficult for someone like me to understand why you'd find yourself in this position and why you'd choose to die in such a useless way." "What makes you think it's useless?" "I was told you wanted to ask about the British Free Corps." "All you've done is ask questions about me." "I don't know you." "I don't need to talk to you." "Please, just go away." "Ah!" "I see you!" "I see you!" "I see you!" "OK, you got me, you got me, you got me!" "So... did you get the information you wanted?" "Any idea what happened to him in Dresden?" "No." "Did you ask?" "I shouldn't have thought that was any of my business." "Or yours." "Wait here." "Mr Deakin, forgive me for asking, are these war injuries?" "Yes, they are." "Then I'd understand your difficulty representing somebody on these sort of charges." "He did speak to me, not a great deal, but enough, and I can tell you that, whatever else he might be, he's not a Nazi sympathiser, nor is he guilty of treason." "And I'd hope to persuade you not to assume his guilt or, indeed, to abandon him to hang." "There are a couple of things I could do to help." "If you'd accept the offer, I'd be pleased to..." "Right, you're going to have to raise it." "All right." "How's that?" "Yeah." "Keep coming." "Bit more." "Good?" "Hello." "What's going on here?" "And who are you, darling?" "Oh." "Well, I'm Sam Stewart." "I don't suppose you live in one of these big houses?" "I do, as a matter of fact." "That one over there." "Then this is your lucky day." "We want to knock it down." "Good evening, Miss Stewart." "Adam?" "I'm up here!" "What do you mean, knock us down?" "Yes." "Why?" "For the access road." "Access to what?" "Shops and houses they'll be building on The Green." "Hastings may need shops and houses, but why build on The Green?" "I thought you'd be pleased." "I am, I think." "I should be delighted, I suppose." "It's exactly what you wanted." "And, of course, they'll pay you compensation." "There's a meeting at the town hall tomorrow evening." "Not much notice!" "Provided they make a good offer, how much notice do you need?" "Oh dear!" "More problems?" "I'm afraid so." "In answer to your question," "I was with Monty in the Eighth Army." "Tunisia, May 1943, a place called Medjerda." "I'm sorry to hear it." "I'm not asking for sympathy." "A lot of my friends were killed." "I was invalided home and went back to the Bar." "Wasn't much else I could do." "James won't speak to me." "He won't speak to any of us." "But you've seen him." "I have." "And?" "Is there anything that can give us any hope?" "Deakin says you believe he may be innocent." "That's right." "Do you really think you can find a way through this?" "I'm not sure." "I've just seen him the once." "It's certainly worth the attempt." "What did he tell you?" "Very little." "But it does seem to me that there's more to the situation than he's allowing anyone to know." "Jane, I'll talk to Mr Foyle alone, if you don't mind." "Why don't you show Deakin round the garden?" "Er... yes, of course, dear, whatever you say." "Shall we?" "James was never the same after his mother died." "He was only eight." "Maybe that's what this is all about." "She was the only one he confided in." "I loved Caroline more than anyone in the world." "She was everything to me." "But James was more her son than mine, and after she died he... drifted away." "Ever any mention of or sympathy with... right-wing causes?" "No!" "A model student at Eton, and at Sandhurst." "A credit to his regiment." "When he was taken prisoner at Dunkirk, I thought I'd lost him." "Now I almost wish I had." "We're one of the oldest families in England, and we have a long history of service to our country:" "My father at the Colonial Office, my grandfather in Salisbury's administration." "I was an MP for 30 years." "This unit, the British Free Corps..." "They're disgusting!" "Nothing!" "What do you think drove James to join it?" "He was a prisoner of war." "He had been for three years." "He was starving." "They offered him an alternative to a life behind barbed wire." "He didn't know what he was doing." "Wouldn't that be his defence?" "Of course it's his defence!" "He's not using it." "He's ashamed of himself." "Doesn't appear to be the case." "He's destroying me." "This... house, this land, my name, all that I've ever stood for, he'll bring it all crashing down." "Mr Foyle, you told Deakin you could help us, but all you've done so far is ask a lot of questions." "Why exactly are you here?" "Caroline Devereaux..." "Sometimes I think she never left this house." "It's as if she never died." "So... er... how did it happen exactly?" "Oh, it was a horrible accident." "She was walking over there." "It was late summer." "The deer can be very dangerous at that time of year." "Nobody knows why she got so close to them, but they gored her with their antlers." "Ah." "Hello." "All right?" "I think so." "Do come with us." "I was going to show Mr Deakin the hide." "I'd love to." "Come on!" "I'm coming!" "Slow coach!" "It's got a black beak... and... white patches on its wings." "And what do you think it is?" "A... nightingale?" "Hm, let me see." "Oh!" "No, it's a pied flycatcher." "It's come all the way from Africa to be here." "She had it built especially for James." "Does anyone use it any more?" "Well, he wouldn't go near it after she died." "I hope you don't mind me asking..." "How well do you get on with him?" "Well, he was 14 when I married Charles." "He was already at Eton." "But I did what I could." "I tried to be close." "Any sign of any interest in politics, that sort of thing, at that time?" "Not that I know of." "Ah, I think he did want to become a policeman." "Really?" "He was very young." "I don't think he was serious." "So... what other interests might he have had?" "Er... he used to play the piano." "He was actually very good." "But there was this business with his piano teacher." "A man called... er..." "Rothmann or Rothstein or something." "Anyway... erm... he left under a bit of a cloud." "Mm-hm?" "And... er..." "James lost interest after that and stopped." "Who else might I talk to who knew him as a boy?" "There was our old housekeeper, Mrs Ramsay." "But there's been this terrible business." "What's that?" "A young woman was found murdered in her house." "Murdered?" "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd know all about it." "The police were only here yesterday." "My husband's secretary." "She was found strangled." "Dinner, Mr Devereaux." "Are you still not talkative?" "Well, let's see what we've got for you." "Corn-beef hash, beans and mashed potato." "I am sorry." "That was very clumsy of me." "Nazi scum!" "Eat it off the floor." "And you'd better get this cell cleaned up, or I'll have you up before the governor." "Not many people here." "Well, they only called the meeting yesterday." "Don't you think that's a bit strange?" "No." "Why?" "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." "Please, take your seats." "Let me introduce myself." "I'm Michael Harrison, working with Harry Clifton here for the Hastings Planning Committee." "Never heard of it!" "What good's it ever done?" "Ladies and gentlemen, these are the facts." "In the last five years, more than three million houses have been damaged or destroyed." "As a country, we now need to build 750,000 new homes, 7,000 of them here in Hastings." "But it may well be that the Luftwaffe has done us a favour." "We can look on this not as a challenge, but as an opportunity." "Highcliffe Green." "It's an empty space, even though it's only minutes away from the centre of Hastings." "And here it is again." "The hub of a new development zone, with purpose-built housing, improved traffic flow, the sense and simplicity of concentric rings." "What's he talking about?" "A new modern Hastings, with a bustling new heart." "But what happens to us?" "What about the existing bomb damage?" "One at a time, please." "May I ask where you live, sir?" "Gladwell Avenue." "I congratulate you on your good fortune." "Every resident of Highcliffe Street, Quay Street and Gladwell Avenue is going to be required to move..." "Build it somewhere else!" "..But will be generously compensated." "I like the sound of that." "What I'm here to talk to you about, ladies and gentlemen, is a new start." "I've looked at these old houses." "Many of them are in a state of disrepair, with outmoded plumbing and electrics." "They're too big and they're expensive to run." "What I want to say to you is, welcome to the future." "Adam Wainwright." "I own the guest house, Hill House, on Highcliffe Street." "So you're proposing to buy it, knock it down, and do what exactly?" "Well, Hill House stands on what will be the main thoroughfare to the new shopping centre." "And you're going to build that on the green?" "That's right." "But the green's always been there." "There is no historical significance to the green." "It's just an empty space." "But it's common land." "Exactly." "Isn't it common land?" "Well, yes, it is." "But I don't think there'd be any great objections..." "Isn't it protected, though?" "I think you're rather overstating its importance." "People have been grazing their animals there for centuries." "Let him speak." "He's got a point." "How much are you gonna pay us?" "That's the question I'd have asked." "We'll be making valuations in the weeks to come." "Now you're talking!" "Hang on." "Are we sure about this?" "Why do we need a new development?" "Why can't we improve the Hastings we've already got?" "Sit down!" "You've had your turn!" "There will, of course, be a full and proper consultation before any works begin." "Adam, are you all right?" "You haven't said anything this past half hour." "I'm sorry, Sam." "Miles away." "We should be celebrating, shouldn't we?" "You get the money, you get shot of Hill House, you can start again." "I wasn't thinking about Hill House." "I really like Hastings." "I know I haven't been here long, but..." "It's just the arrogance of it all that gets me, Sam." "I mean, look at this green." "It's been here forever." "When William the Conqueror landed, he probably stood right here." "Isn't this what we've been fighting for, for the past six years?" "England's green and pleasant land." "Exactly." "I think we've earned the right to run our own lives, not be pushed around by some Nazi in a pinstripe suit." "I mean, this is part of the England we've been defending." "Jerry couldn't invade us." "They couldn't destroy us." "So why should we let someone like Harrison achieve what they didn't?" "Are you going to start a resistance movement?" "Yes." "That's exactly what I'm gonna do." "Well then, count me in." "I'll wave the flag or the machine gun or whatever." "Perfect." "Back again." "I've brought some books." "Decline and Fall." "It seems appropriate." "I like Evelyn Waugh." "So do I." "And it's not too long." "I don't think I should be starting long books." "Thank you." "That's very kind of you." "Not at all." "A couple of things have happened since we last met which may be of interest to you." "I went to White Friars and met your father." "Why did you do that?" "What's White Friars got to do with the British Free Corps?" "Oh, it helped to know why you joined." "And you think my father can tell you?" "He had an opinion." "I bet he did." "I also learned that you were very close to your mother." "I wondered what she'd have made of all this." "Correct me if I'm wrong, but... goose-stepping your way around Dresden in an SS uniform isn't something that I imagine would have endeared you to her." "I've had enough of this." "I'd like to go back to my cell, please." "Sylvie Johnstone?" "Yeah, that's me." "I'm Detective Inspector Milner and this is Detective Constable Perkins." "I believe you know Agnes Lyttleton?" "Yes, I know Agnes." "Why are you asking?" "I'm afraid you're going to have to prepare yourself for some bad news." "Agnes is dead." "Perkins." "Could you?" "Dead?" "I'm sorry." "What happened?" "She was found at home." "She was living with a Mrs Ramsay." "I know." "I went there once." "Agnes was very happy there." "It seems that someone came to the house when she was on her own and attacked her." "She was killed in the bedroom." "Oh, Lord." "We have to ask you some questions." "But we can come back, if you prefer." "I hadn't known her that long." "We met in a pub, got chatting about horses." "She liked them, too." "I'd moved down from London." "I didn't know anyone." "The two of us became friends." "Is she really dead?" "I'm afraid so." "I wonder if Jack knows?" "Jack?" "Who's Jack?" "Her young man." "She never told me his surname." "Jack." "She was crazy about him." "Photo by the bed, all that sort of thing." "Did you ever see the photograph?" "No." "Look, shall I go and tie this up?" "Um..." "What else can you tell me about Jack?" "Not very much." "She was very secretive about him cos he was..." "You know, he was doing something hush-hush overseas." "Do you know where?" "Was it France?" "No, in Germany." "She shouldn't have told me that, but she mentioned it once." "I couldn't believe it." "Jack had a friend." "He was coming to see her." "What friend?" "She didn't say." "She just said she'd heard from someone who had news about Jack." "Of course, she was sick with worry about him." "But he had news for her and he was coming down to Brighton and he'd see her." "That was about a week ago." "And she didn't give you the name of this friend?" "She never said, no." "So, what's she called, then?" "Who?" "The horse." "It's not a mare." "It's a stallion." "Can't you tell?" "We fought them on the beaches." "We fought them on the fields and on the hills." "We fought them on the streets." "But what was the point if we were going to sell those beaches, those hills and those fields and those streets?" "Here would be interesting." "Good sense of place." "'We fought them on the streets.'" "But what was the point if we were going to sell those beaches, those hills and those fields and streets for the sake of flats and shops we don't even need?" "I can't talk about the family, Mr Foyle." "I was with them for many years." "Anything I might have seen, well..." "You know, it wasn't my place to see anything." "I do understand your discretion, of course." "But we must remember that tomorrow this boy could be sentenced to hang." "It's a terrible thing, him going over to the Germans like that." "Was it a surprise?" "Of course it was." "He was never like that." "Well, obviously, he was never the same after the death of his mother." "He adored her." "We all did." "A happy family, would you say?" "They were a family like any other, Mr Foyle." "They had their ups and downs." "What can you tell me about the piano teacher?" "Oh, yes, that was a bad business, too." "His name was Rothstein." "Simon Rothstein." "He was a Hebrew." "He was a good man." "That's what I thought." "He stole some of Lady Devereaux's jewellery and went to prison." "That was just a few weeks before her own accident." "You see what I'm saying?" "James lost the two people who were closest to him." "Maybe that's what turned his head." "Thank you." "Sir Charles' secretary was staying here, isn't that right?" "Agnes Lyttleton." "You heard about that?" "I'm not sure I can live here now." "The house isn't the same any more." "I'd understand that." "You don't suppose..." "It couldn't have had anything to do with Master James, could it?" "Of course it's possible." "Because I have something that might help you." "I er..." "I found it when I was going through her laundry." "It fell out of a pocket." "Now, that is from her young man." "He was a prisoner-of-war in Germany." "And he wrote regularly." "And this is addressed to a hotel in London." "And that's her handwriting on the envelope." "So she might have been forwarding it, perhaps?" "So it would seem." "Did she ever mention this Mr Armstrong?" "No." "And as far as I know, she never visited London, not while she was with me." "I was going to pass it on to the detective who was here." "Well, I could do that for you." "What's his name?" "My name's Jack Stanford." "Thank you for agreeing to see me." "You're a friend of James Devereaux?" "Yes." "You're representing him, is that right?" "I would do, if he let me." "Thank you." "James and I were POWs together." "Where?" "Oflag 79." "In Brunswick." "That would have been before '43." "I knew him later as well." "The British Free Corps?" "I'm afraid you're going to have to forgive me." "I can't fully explain myself." "Indeed, I must ask you not to mention to anyone that you've met me." "It's a matter of national security." "How can I help you?" "Has he said anything?" "I mean, he's on trial for his life." "Has he put forward any defence?" "Not at all." "He refuses to speak." "Why?" "Well, maybe you could tell me." "I knew James very well, for a time." "I never completely understood him." "Actually, I thought he was dead." "I couldn't believe it when he turned up after Dresden." "Maybe, in a way, it would be better if he had died." "Maybe it would." "When does the trial begin?" "Tomorrow." "The trial's a formality." "He's pleading guilty." "Oh, well, then there's nothing I can do." "This is from Jack." "Do you know who that is?" "Jack was Agnes Lyttleton's young man." "And I presume the man in the photograph that had been taken from her room." "He was a prisoner of war." "It was written in February." "It took almost six months to arrive." "Well, not surprising, given the state of things in Europe." "It doesn't give much away." "Which, I suppose, is what you expect with German censorship." "He wonders when the war will end." "I imagine there were thousands of letters like this written every day." "This thing about the weather." ""It's raining dogs and cats." Do we normally say it like that?" "No, it should be "cats and dogs"." "He's got it the wrong way round." "Unless he's trying to tell us something." "And the date?" "Is that unusual or am I imagining it?" "We'd normally write it..." "The other way round." "10th February, 1945." "Sir, I appreciate you bringing this to my attention." "I thought I'd take a look at the hotel this is addressed to." "Mind if I hang onto this?" "Of course not." "Thank you." "And if there's anything else I can do to help..." "There is." "Simon Rothstein, piano teacher to the Devereaux." "Arrested for theft a long while ago, but anything you can turn up would help." "I'll check the files." "So, what did he want?" "You searched the house and the room, Agnes's room." "Yes." "So, why didn't you find the letter?" "Which letter?" "The letter from Jack, Agnes' young man." "I never saw any letter." "Exactly, constable." "But if you'd been doing your job properly, you'd have found it." "So, has he got it?" "If you mean DCS Foyle, yes, he's got it." "And he's going to keep it a while longer." "Mr Foyle is helping us with our enquiries." "I thought he'd left the police." "Constable... if you and I are going to work together, do you think you could try showing just a modicum of respect?" "Of course, sir." "For you or for him?" "We've got the mains drainage coming down this right flank to that point and then cutting in." "You're a bit premature, aren't you?" "I'm sorry?" "Do you remember me?" "No." "We met at the town hall the other evening." "Because I opposed your sordid little scheme, I don't suppose you took a blind bit of notice?" "Keep your hair on." "Yeah, I remember you, you're..." "Adam Wainwright." "Gladwell Avenue." "Hill House, Highcliffe Street." "I'm sorry, Mr Wainwright, but the meeting's over and I'm busy." "Do you know what I despise about you, Mr Harrison?" "It's not that you're changing Hastings, not that you have a vision for the future." "No, what I detest about you is your high-handed attitude, this unshakeable belief that you really know what's best." "We are consulting..." "You don't care about this area, that this piece of land has history or what it means to the people who live here." "It's all just money to you." "Eric, ask this man to move on." "No, I will not move on." "I live here." "Why don't you move on?" "Take your equipment with you!" "I'll have the law onto you!" "That's council property." "Is this council property?" "Someone call a policeman!" "That's enough!" "Stop that!" "Get off!" "Get off me!" "What have you done?" "Mr Foyle!" "What are you doing here?" "Sam told me what happened." "Am I in a lot of trouble?" "The man, is he...?" "Oh, he's all right, as it turns out." "But assaulting a planning committee member is perhaps not the wisest thing to be doing." "Are they going to press charges?" "No, I persuaded Mr Harrison that a court case might not be in his best interests." "So I can go?" "You can." "Thank you." "How am I going to face Sam?" "Good question." "Do you think she'll forgive me?" "I don't think you've got too much to worry about." "Mr Devereaux." "You remember your KC, Mr Carstairs." "Yes, of course." "Mr Devereaux, let me implore you for one last time." "When we go upstairs, you will be tried for high treason under the Treachery Act of 1940, as opposed to offences against the Defence Regulations of the year before." "There is one critical difference between them." "If you're found guilty, there can be no leeway." "The judge can show you no clemency, do you understand that?" "How long will it take?" "If you insist on offering no defence, if you intend to plead guilty, then the whole thing may be over very quickly." "The judge will sentence you and that will be that." "No witnesses?" "Not unless you enter a defence." "Is my father there?" "I believe he's in the public gallery." "Well, thanks for your time, Mr Deakin, Mr Carstairs." "I just want it to be over with." "I think it's absolutely splendid." "I didn't know you had it in you." "Didn't you?" "You're quite right to show them they're not going to get away with it." "Don't you agree, sir?" "There might be more productive routes." "I must go." "The trouble is, everybody's taken the money." "Because they don't care about the green." "To them, it's just a patch of grass." "Thank you, Mr West." "Which green are you talking about?" "Our green." "This one?" "Yes, the very same." "Well, that's not just any old green." "Isn't it?" "No, it's not." "They were going to excavate that not so very many years ago." "Some settlement site or another." "Settlement?" "How do you know about that?" "School used to dig up all sorts of stuff there, pottery, that sort of thing." "Where is it now?" "No idea." "Could very well still be there." "Where?" "The school." "St Saviour's." "Thank you." "Not at all." "Bye." "St Saviour's." "How appropriate." "All rise." "Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle." "We met in court rather more times than either of us might care to remember." "Now, what is it that brings you here today?" "Well, I hope you can tell me what you remember about an old case that needs clearing up." "A man called Rothstein, a piano teacher." "Piano teacher?" "Simon Rothstein." "Piano teacher to the Devereaux." "Oh, yes." "Rothstein." "I remember now - petty theft." "What exactly is your interest in the case?" "Not so much in the case as the sentence you handed down." "Five years." "With hard labour." "Which led to his death in prison." "Yes, well, I can't comment on past cases." "It seems the jewellery he was supposed to have stolen was worth only about £50." "Theft is still theft, Foyle." "I thought you, of all people, would appreciate that." "Of course." "But even so, five years' hard labour for a first offence seems unnecessarily harsh." "It was a grave breach of trust." "Here you have a man, a refugee, welcomed into this country and into the home of one of our most ancient and distinguished families..." "How many cases would you say you'd tried over the years?" "Thousands." "Do you remember them all in such detail or is it just this one?" "I'm not quite sure I like your tone." "No, I was simply wondering what makes this one so memorable for you?" "I've already told you." "I greatly admired Sir Charles Devereaux." "He was an outstanding MP." "Do you know him?" "We may have met." "But I had absolutely no reason not to try that case." "The evidence was indisputable." "Charles didn't even appear as a witness." "Charles?" "That would be Sir Charles?" "It would help, don't you think, to discount the possibility that..." "Charles, in any way, influenced this hugely disproportionate sentence?" "I think you should leave now." "I'll see myself out." "'James Devereaux," "I have read the depositions and the exhibits in this case." "I am satisfied you knew what you did." "And you did it intentionally and deliberately, in the knowledge that becoming a member of the so-called British Free Corps amounted to high treason. '" "But it was a lie." "It was all lies." "He stole nothing." "Wasn't there something about a necklace?" "You think he would steal from Lady Devereaux?" "He respected her." "He would do anything for her, and for her son, also." "Rothstein, you must help me!" "Run, Lady Devereaux, run!" "..this warrior from England." "Die!" "What's going on here?" "'James Devereaux, you come from a noble family, one that has long given service to the nation." "But that only casts your transgressions in a harsher light." "You now stand a self-confessed traitor to your king and country." "And you have forfeited your right to live." "'But that was the mistake he made, you see.'" "He got too close to her." "'My son knew too many secrets, Mr Foyle.'" "That is why he had to be got out of there." "That is why he had to be locked away." "The sentence from this court is that you be taken from here to a place of lawful execution and hanged from the neck until you are dead." "The Lord have mercy on your soul." "Amen." "Take him down." "Sir Charles!" "Sir Charles!" "Will there be an appeal?" "What have you to say to the press?" "Thank you, Mr Carstairs." "I wish I could have done something more to help." "I can't help feeling there's something more to all this." "I'm so sorry." ""In his summing-up, the judge said that he had no alternative"" "but to pass the gravest sentence of all." "James Devereaux had been able to offer no defence" ""and will now be returned to his cell to await the hangman."" "Afternoon." "Can I help you?" "I hope so." "Do you have a George Armstrong staying or working here?" "Never heard of him." "Got a letter for him." "No, there's no George Armstrong here." "Who are you?" "The name's Foyle." "I can't help you, I'm afraid." "Right." "You've never received anything like this before?" "No." "And you're not used as a mail box or a forwarding address?" "We're a hotel, Mr Foyle, that's all." "You can see for yourself." "Thank you very much." "I can take that for you, if you like." "Why would you wanna do that, Mr...?" "Dillon." "It's got our address on it." "If someone comes in, I can hand it over." "Better still, if anyone comes in, send them to me." "I'll hand it over." "This is Dillon." "There's something you need to know." "What's this?" "It's a radius." "A radius of what?" "A radius is a bone in the forearm, my dear." "What else did you find, Miss Longbridge?" "Oh." "Coins and pottery." "And we've found some lanterns." "Some of them are in very good condition." "And this." "It's very old." "But I've never been able to discover what it's for." "I don't suppose we can borrow this?" "I don't think so." "We'll take very great care of it." "I suppose so." "Thank you." "Thank you very much." "I don't suppose you remember a pupil called Christopher Foyle?" "Christopher Foyle?" "Yes, Christopher Foyle." "I remember him." "Always asking questions." "I often wondered what happened to him." "Oh, I'm sorry." "There were Romans in Hastings." "Somebody must have written about it." "Goodbye!" "So, where do we start?" "Well, there's the museum." "Or back to the library." "There's that college in Brighton." "Well, I know where I'm going to start." "The kitchen." "Tea." "Well, it went exactly as I said." "Sentenced to hang." "When is that likely to happen?" "The 17th." "Devilish quick." "I suppose they want to get it over with." "So, when are you leaving for America?" "The same day." "Well, you did everything you could." "I wonder." "Look here, Mr Foyle." "Why don't you come clean with me?" "I've made some enquiries about you and, frankly, you've misled me." "You're not even a policeman, not any more." "What is your interest in James Devereaux?" "Well, in the circumstances, whatever interest I may or may not have in him is irrelevant." "In the interests of justice, my concern is as great as I'd expect yours to be." "The sentence has been passed in a court of law." "It's over." "There's nothing you can do, Mr Foyle." "I disagree." "It's obviously of no interest to you." "But it is to me why Sir Charles' secretary was murdered at the time all this was happening." "I'd certainly like to know where Jack is, the prisoner-of-war who was writing to her, and why the Devereaux's piano teacher was the victim of a miscarriage of justice and died in prison." "So it seems to me there's a lot to be done." "Since clearly no-one else is gonna do it, I will." "Excuse me." "Jack?" "I had a young man in the office named Jack a couple of days ago." "He introduced himself as a friend of James Devereaux." "They were POWs together in Germany." "And?" "He was very mysterious." "Perhaps I shouldn't be telling you this." "He wanted to help James." "But, at the same time, he wasn't giving anything away." "I also saw him in court." "Surname?" "Stanford." "Thank you." "Mr Foyle?" "Yes." "I wonder if you could come with me, sir?" "Yes, all right." "Mr Foyle for you, sir." "Mr Foyle." "I suppose we ought to apologise to you, for bringing you here in this way." "No, not at all, always a pleasure." "Thank you, Walcott." "I expect you're wondering what this is all about?" "Well, intelligence services communicating with prisoners overseas, perhaps?" "You have a letter of ours." "I wonder if I could have it?" "Forgive me." "You are?" "My name is Brenner." "And this is Jack Stanford." "He was with James Devereaux in Oflag 79 and then in Dresden." "How do you do?" "This is not actually addressed to you." "Even so, it was intended for my office, Mr Foyle, and it is quite important." "It's important to the police, since it turned up as part of a murder investigation." "So any light you could shed on that would be appreciated." "I know you've had dealings with us before, Mr Foyle, so I'm sure I can rely on your discretion." "I head up a section here within MI9." "We were established in December '41 to teach evasion and escape techniques to personnel." "That's ordinary officers and servicemen heading into action." "There were a series of seminars." "Exactly." "Taught them how to make a nuisance of themselves if they got caught by the enemy." "And one vital part of the work was getting information to us behind Jerry's back." "Via coded letters." "POWs would send letters to family and friends and they then forwarded them on to us." "How many agents were there?" "Oh, hundreds of them, all over Europe." "And how did you communicate with them?" "We couldn't." "By the end of the war, we weren't sure how many of them we had or who they were." "Our office in Southgate took a direct hit and many of the records were destroyed." "So we've had to rely on agents like Stanford here to get in touch with us." "And you were a member of the British Free Corps?" "Yes, yes, it seemed like a good idea." "I thought they might amount to something." "My aim was to spread discord, undermine morale and keep MI9 aware of their movements." "Stanford was afforded a remarkable degree of freedom." "And thanks to him, we received a great deal of information about troop movements, bomb damage - much, much more than that." "What about James Devereaux?" "He wasn't like the others, Mr Foyle." "I knew him before the war." "We were at Eton together." "I don't know what he was doing in the Free Corps and I'm being completely honest when I say I feel sorry for him." "Is he a traitor?" "They all are, but for different reasons." "My feeling about Devereaux is that he was out of his depth." "Went missing for a very long time after Dresden." "What do you think happened to him?" "The bombing of Dresden" " It's a dreadful business." "We were in a cafe together when it started." "We got separated in the street." "It was dark, there was a lot of panic." "I thought he must have been killed." "The city, the next morning, you have no idea." "So many bodies." "So you knew Agnes Lyttleton?" "Yes, yes, she was a friend of mine." "James introduced us." "As you know, I used her to drop off my letters." "Did you know she was dead?" "Yes, yes." "I read about it in the papers." "Shocking." "And were you able to see her after you got back?" "No." "The letter, Mr Foyle." "Oh, yeah." "No need to remind you that it's police evidence." "Of course." "We have absolutely no intention of interfering with any police investigation." "Well, clearly no intention of helping it either." "Well, I don't see it makes much difference." "You're no longer a police officer." "Absolutely right." "It doesn't stop the rest of them investigating." "Then I suggest you leave it to them, Mr Foyle." "This really isn't your affair." "Point taken." "Mr West." "Perhaps Mr Foyle was wrong about the settlement." "Mr Foyle is never wrong." "So there are three of you now?" "Well, Mr Foyle has kindly agreed to help us with our investigation." "I'd have thought you'd have caught him by this time." "So, why are you here?" "I told you everything I know the last time." "We wondered what the name Jack might mean to you?" "Jack?" "Jack Stanford." "She never mentioned him?" "No." "But the name did seem to mean something to you just now." "I did know a Jack." "But that was a long time ago." "Go on." "Mrs Ramsay," "I don't suppose you've seen a dark, dangerous-looking adventurer by the name of Jack Harkaway, have you?" "No, Lady Devereaux." "I've just been cleaning in here." "Now, I wonder where he could be hiding?" "Wait a minute." "I saw that curtain move." "Have at you!" "I have you, Jack Harkaway." "My boy, Jack!" "'It's lunch time." "Adventurers must eat. '" "Jack." "That was her name for him." "That's what she always used to call him." "After the hero in the comic books." "Why do you keep agreeing to see me?" "To find out why you keep coming back." "Presumably this time it's to say goodbye?" "Far from it." "But I do think it's time we were honest with each other." "It's certainly time you were honest with me." "Has Agnes been to see you?" "How do you know about her?" "Because I know about you..." "Jack." "Has she been?" "No." "Do you know why?" "I know what you're doing." "Not at all sure why you're doing it." "But it's a tragedy you haven't been able to see the consequences." "And I think it's time you stopped." "Because she's dead." "How?" "She was strangled at an address in Brighton, an address you'd be very familiar with." "And you know who did it." "To be honest, Mr Wainwright, I don't know why you just can't take the money like everyone else." "Because it's not just a matter of money, Mr Harrison." "Isn't it?" "How many names did you manage to get on that petition of yours?" "We got over 200." "200." "The petition is irrelevant." "You're not building on the green because there's evidence of a settlement." "Because you found a few old coins and broken lanterns?" "We never mentioned anything about lanterns." "But I will tell you that we found this." "What is that?" "The coins are to pay the ferryman." "The lanterns light the way to Hades." "And this, as Mr Huntsville has verified, is a tubulus." "They poured honey and wine through it to feed the dead." "Everything points to there being a major Roman burial site underneath Highcliffe green, Mr Harrison." "So no-one's going to let you anywhere near it." "Why?" "Why did you have to get involved in all that?" "Don't you believe in progress?" "Progress or profit?" "I think I know which one you believe in." "Adam, you were magnificent!" "Do you think so?" "It's nothing less than a triumph for democracy." "Well, common sense." "And Hill House." "We could have a fete on the green to celebrate." "Yes." "What do you think?" "That's Hill House." "Crikey!" "Not another bomb!" "Oh!" "No, Adam, wait." "Wait for the fire brigade." "What about the guests?" "Are you all right?" "Yeah, I'm fine!" "Stay back, Mr Wainwright!" "Mr West!" "Get out of here." "Is there anybody else up there?" "I don't think so, don't think so." "Sam?" "Mrs Crawley!" "Is she all right?" "She's still got a pulse, she's still breathing." "Anybody in there?" "I can smell gas." "Anybody here?" "What the hell are you doing in here?" "This whole place could collapse at any moment." "It's my hotel!" "We've got someone here who's hurt." "All right, we'll take over now." "Look, just get out into the street." "Come on, I've got you now." "Come on, darling." "Oh, Adam." "I'm sorry." "I don't know, Sam." "I never was cut out to run a hotel, anyway." "There you go." "What will you do now?" "That's it." "I thought I might marry you." "What?" "I've got no house, no job, no money and no future." "Will you marry me, Sam?" "Adam!" "You'd better hurry up before a wall falls on top of us." "Come on, you two, out!" "All right, yes, I will." "Please get up!" "Do you mean it?" "Yes, of course I mean it." "Of course I'll marry you." "I'll marry you in a shot." "Sam, that's wonderful." "Oh, it's very good news, Sir Charles, with regards to James." "What?" "Well, the verdict - that is to say, the death penalty... is certain to be overturned." "Darling, that's wonderful!" "That's... more than I could have hoped for." "But how?" "How did this happen?" "He decided to speak." "And though there are various procedures to go through, in the light of what he said, he'll be released very soon." "Oh, my goodness." "Oh, we're..." "We're very grateful to you, Mr Foyle." "The only problem is, you'll now have to account for your part in all this." "I don't understand." "How long had you known Agnes?" "I knew her when we were children." "Her father worked on the estate." "We used to play together." "And later?" "You wrote to her, from Germany." "And she helped pass on coded information in the letters to the intelligence services, which you signed "Jack"." "How do you know all this?" "So you don't deny it?" "No." "Why "Jack"?" "My mother used to call me Jack." "It was the name of a character in a story that I loved as a boy." "Jack..." "Harkaway." "He joined the British Free Corps to undermine and to disrupt it and used the freedom of movement it gave him to send reports back to intelligence here." "He's a brave young man." "I knew it." "I knew he couldn't have been a traitor." "Why didn't he say this?" "Why did it never come out in the trial?" "Because he wanted to hang, as a traitor." "The codes I used existed in various forms." "The letter you've mentioned was written in 56-0, for example." "Which effectively means you pick out the fifth and sixth words of each line." "And the backward date?" "Indicates a concealed code." "Anyone else in the British Free Corps know you were doing this?" "Yes, there was." "James, this is yours, I believe." "Where did you get that?" "Agnes Lyttleton?" "You never mentioned a girl." "Give it to me." "You take a devil of a time writing these letters." "And all those notes you make." "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were working on some sort of code." "Are you, James?" "Actually, that would explain a lot of things." "I wondered what you were doing here, you of all people." "Always asking questions." "The first of the bunch to undermine morale." "Don't worry." "I'm not going to tell anyone." "I'm your friend." "You can trust me." "But you're a sly old bugger, aren't you?" "He worked it all out for himself." "I didn't need to say anything." "Jack Stanford, I'm arresting you for the murder of Agnes Lyttleton." "You don't have to say anything, but anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence against you." "Well, that's a bit annoying, I must say." "Really thought I might get away with it." "End of the war, all the confusion, lost records, all the rest of it." "I don't understand." "The letters that you were receiving from Germany weren't from Stanford." "They were from James Devereaux, using a childhood nickname." "When Stanford found out that James had gone missing, presumed dead, in Dresden, he took over his identity to save his own neck." "Is this true?" "I thought he was dead." "It was just a coincidence that he was using my name, so I thought, why not?" "Give it a shot." "But what about this girl?" "Why would she have to die?" "She was the only one who knew the letters had been written by James." "As soon as the trial began, she would have come forward." "So he killed her." "The moment that James was arrested and brought home, it was a death sentence for her." "Stanford couldn't let her talk." "There was only one thing to do." "You took the photograph of James Devereaux with you, the one thing that would have still identified him as her boyfriend and the real author of the letters." "You're a murderer and a traitor." "Actually, I only joined the British Free Corps because I was bored and hungry." "I'd had three years as a POW." "I always knew the whole thing would be a complete lash-up." "Why do you find this so funny?" "I was just thinking about what you said." "Murderer and a traitor." "I suppose it's a shame they can't hang me twice." "'So this man Stanford was the real traitor.'" "But why did my son let him get away with it?" "Why didn't he speak out?" "Well, at the time, he was unaware of Stanford's involvement." "None of this tells us why he put himself in that position in the first place." "I don't understand." "Why would he want to die?" "There are those far more qualified than myself to explain this sort of thing." "But as far as I understand it, he went missing as a result of the severe nervous collapse he experienced during the Dresden bombing, itself compounded by the suppressed traumas suffered in his childhood." "Would we be talking about the death of his mother?" "Would we?" "'Why was it so very important for your father to be at the trial when you refused to even see or speak to him before it?" "And why would he believe that you want to punish him?" "Because it's true." "He needs to be." "Punished?" "Because of your mother?" "I knew her." "I was injured in the first war." "Not very badly, but I was young, alone, frightened." "She was a volunteer nurse." "Your mother was beautiful." "I knew her." "She was married to my father at the time?" "Yes." "I can tell you that she was desperately unhappy with the life she was leading, at her happiest when he was away." "But she chose to pursue that life for the sake of the child she was carrying." "Me." "The accident that killed her was just dreadful." "I was very unhappy to hear that she died." "It wasn't an accident." "They'd had a terrible argument." "Something about Simon, my old piano teacher." "'You will not humiliate me and my family...'" "I was in the hide." "This is the end of it." "He didn't steal anything." "You had him sent to prison because he was my friend, because he knew how you treated me." "He's a Jew." "He's nothing." "You make me sick, Charles!" "I'm leaving you." "You will not leave me." "How will you stop me?" "I'll tell the whole world what sort of man you are." "Get out of my way!" "You will not do this." "You will not leave me." "I will stop you." "I will!" "Dear God, Charles." "You always said you loved her." "Charles?" "I couldn't let her walk out on me." "My family doesn't divorce." "It's never happened." "So you killed her." "And James saw it all." "That poor little boy." "This way, sir." "Thank you once again, sir." "Not at all, thank you." "Well I can't take the credit for the arrest." "I don't see why not." "So, this is goodbye." "Yeah, it looks like it." "You're on your own now." "He's got me, sir." "Precisely." "Good luck." "What will happen to me now?" "Well, I'd say you'll be released." "It may take a day or two." "And I'll be away for a while." "But, as soon as I'm back, if there's anything I can do to help..." "Thank you, sir." "'Christopher, I'm so sorry." "I can't see you again and I want you to promise that you'll never, ever try to contact me again, whatever happens." "Now I have to think about the child, so I'm going back to Charles." "There's no other way." "You don't know him." "Please, for the sake of everything we've been to one another." "Please... forget me. '" "Thank you." "Happy to drive you, sir, one last time." "And do let me know when it's going to happen." "As soon as possible." "I'll do my best to get back in time." "The relatives are fighting over which church to have the ceremony in." "It doesn't help having four vicars and a bishop in the family." "And then what?" "I'm thinking of getting into politics." "That business over the green gave me a taste for it." "We're going to have lots of children and spoil them all rotten." "I'm very pleased to hear it." "Bye." "I'm gonna go and see my kids, you know." ""All remaining passengers on the Queen Mary..."" "Send us a postcard, sir." "I will." "Good luck!" "".. forward gangway, please."" "Let's go, man, let's go."