I brought you a pot of fresh tea, Sir Michael.
Thank you, Mrs Roecastle.
We got a couple of eggs from the chickens last night, sir.
Do you fancy one? No, I don't think so. Thank you.
I'm sure it'll all be all right, sir.
I'll still be looking after you.
I'm sure of it. I know I can depend on you.
That you can, sir.
Better get moving, I suppose.
They'll be here any time now. Is Beddows ready with the car?
He's waiting at the front, sir.
Tell him I'll be with him soon.
Yes, sir.
Well! Here we are, Brian...
Digby Manor.
What do you think?
It's big. It's perfect.
Fresh air, plenty of room, sound plumbing.
It's not often in this bloody war you get exactly what you ask for.
If we can hang on to it.
That sounds a wee bit like doom and gloom and that's not allowed. Here.
Baths into the long gallery, next to the boiler room
and Matron, nurses - let me show you the wards.
They're going to be the finest you've ever seen.
Nurses' quarters, this floor, Matron. Wards, downstairs.
This house is quite impossible.
There must be at least ten years of accumulated dust.
Oh, yes. Some of the corridors aren't wide enough for trolleys.
You'll have to knock down walls. Absolutely.
You'll have to start from scratch.
We have a whole week before the first patients arrive.
What are you worrying about?
Ah ha, looks like the fly-boys have arrived.
I see you're moving in, then.
Mr Jamieson didn't want to waste time.
Good. Any problems with the residents?
The house was empty when we arrived. Good morning, Group Captain!
Good journey down?
Very good, thank you, Mr Jamieson.
I see you're busy. Yes, yes. Let me show you around.
Looks like organised chaos around here.
Oh, not at all! Nothing organised about it.
This is going to be the main ward.
It's a good space. Yes, more or less perfect.
A bit of a journey to the baths but can't get around that.
You'll need to get this piano removed.
It's only just arrived! Where do you want this, sir?
I don't know. Leave it there just now.
Beer? Wee bit early for me, Group Captain. You help yourself.
Would you like me to unpack for you, Sir Michael?
No, thank you, Mrs Roecastle. I can manage.
Well, I'll go back to the house, then, sir.
They're letting you stay?
I've offered to clean for them, sir. It seemed the best way.
Wouldn't be right and proper to stay here. No, of course not.
I'll be back at lunch time, sir. If there's anything else?
Thank you.
Thanks for waiting.
That's all right, sir.
When did she die?
Nine years ago today.
That's a very long time.
Well...
not very. I'm just going to hang on a second or two longer.
What was she like? You never talk about her. Do you mind me asking?
No, no, no. Of course not.
She was highly thought of and...
much loved. You'd have liked her.
You must miss her terribly.
Yes.
No, we should go.
Hang on a minute, sir.
Where's Drake?
Gordon Drake.
Drake! Mr Foyle! Good to see you back safe and sound, sir.
No thanks to you. Still having trouble?
The slide is sticking. You've done nothing.
That's not true. I put a new seal on it, lubricated it...
You're lying. I fly sortie after sortie and I can't trust my own kite.
Got a bit rattled, did you, sir? How dare you speak to me like that.
How am I supposed to speak to you?
Why fight the Germans, with you on our side?
If you want to complain, talk to the Wing Co. Maybe I will.
Fine!
Do you have any idea what's going on up there? No.
You don't care, do you? This war...
just a stroll in the park for you, isn't it?
He's not worth it, Andrew. Come on, I'll buy you a pint.
See to the slide. All right, I'll do it again, sir.
I'm turning in, then.
Busy night? No, quiet, thank goodness.
Even managed to get a few hours' kip.
You should keep quiet about that.
Jerry finds you sleeping on the job, he'll come calling.
Cheerio. All right.
Morning, sir. Morning.
Peter Preston.
I'm based here, then I've got a post at the Kings Arms.
Rather be at a pub than a police station, wouldn't you?
I don't even drink, sir.
Good morning, sir. Morning.
I wonder if there's somebody senior I could speak to.
Can you tell me what it's about? It's rather complicated. See...
Dr Wrenn?
Yes.
It's Milner.
You operated on me last year.
Oh, God - I'm sorry.
St Luke's, after Trondheim. My leg.
Left leg. An inch below the tibia.
Yes, of course. Forgive me, I'm terrible at faces.
Not at all. How is it?
It healed very well, thank you.
Well, it's good to see you, Mr Milner. And you. Can I help?
Well, it's rather awkward.
I'll introduce you to my senior officer, DCS Foyle.
Mr Jamieson is a genius, there's no two ways about it.
He studied with Archibald Mclndoe. I'm sure you know him.
I know of him.
They have revolutionised reconstructive surgery
and the treatment of burns.
I don't need to tell you
how many young pilots come down horribly burned.
No, you don't.
About six months ago,
somebody noticed that pilots who crashed into the Channel healed quicker.
Nobody could understand why but McIndoe worked it out.
It was the salt in the water. That's all there was to it.
He developed a treatment using saline baths.
That's what we're doing.
So, how can we help?
Well, somebody's trying to sabotage us.
We requisitioned an old house, Digby Manor. That was about two weeks ago.
Since then, there's been this whole series of...accidents.
That's what they look like.
What makes you think they're not? Because I'm careful.
Nobody could have as many accidents as that.
Paperwork's gone missing.
We've had disinfectant mixed in with the milk, sheets torn,
all sorts of petty little things.
Suspects?
Yes, one. The chap who used to own the house, a Sir Michael Waterford.
He's a local hero, isn't he? Injured in the last war?
That may well be but we turfed him out of his house.
Now he's in a cottage on the estate. You should talk to him.
It's a bit difficult. Why?
It's difficult to justify questioning a man like that
on the strength of your suspicions alone.
You saying you don't believe me? Not at all.
So, you're just going to wait until something worse happens, yeah?
Maybe until somebody gets killed?
Well, thank you very much. I'm sorry I've wasted your time.
Dr Wrenn?
I think you were a little unfair on us, sir.
Obviously, we'll do what we can
but what you call sabotage
could have been a series of practical jokes.
Yes. I'm sorry, Milner.
Next time something happens, put in an official report
and we'll see what we can do.
Yes. Thank you, Milner.
What the hell was going on?
Foyle!
I'm not happy with the maintenance work done on my Spit.
I asked for the coop to be seen to and it wasn't.
Aircraftsman Gordon Drake? Yes, sir.
Do you want him put on a charge?
No, sir. Then leave him alone.
What do you think it will do for morale, seeing you row with the crew?
In future, if you've got any problems, come to me.
Whatever you say, sir.
How many ops have you flown this week?
I don't know, sir, about 12.
15. Right. You need a rest.
Take the weekend, go home, get some shuteye.
You off drinking tonight? Yes, sir.
Heading off with Woods and the other chaps.
Don't come back till Monday.
You know, Woods admires you a great deal. All of the younger pilots do.
So, don't let them down.
Sir.
Don't let yourself down.
You out tonight?
Yes, sir.
You're looking very, erm... Thank you, sir.
You won't be needing me any more tonight? No.
You sure? Yes.
Have a good time.
You called and here I am. Help is at hand.
Come in.
There's your trouble.
Someone fused the ring main with a three-amp fuse.
It blew when the bulb went. It was my last bulb.
I'll get you some. Is there anything you can't get hold of?
I can get my hands on anything.
I'm sure. Shame your husband's not up to it.
He's not up to anything much. Now, now.
He's never here.
If I had a wife like you, I wouldn't leave her on her own.
All he ever thinks about is his work.
There we are. Wonderful.
Here, I've got something for you.
They're from France, pure silk.
I couldn't! Course you could. Why not?
What will I say if he sees them? Say they're from a friend.
He wouldn't believe me. Only wear them for me, then.
Put that light out! Bloody hell!
It's the ARP. Worse than that.
Listen, I'd better not be found here.
Is there a back way? Through the kitchen.
I'll be seeing you. Open up, please.
Open up! I'm coming.
You're showing a light.
I've done the blackout.
Must be a crack.
You can see it all down the street.
I'm sorry.
You on your own here? Yes.
Oh.
I just saw a man come in. He left.
Who, your husband?
None of your business.
Yes, all right, it was my husband.
You're on the household register? No, we haven't been here long.
We'll need to ask some questions...
your name, how many people are resident here, where they sleep.
Do you mind if I... Do what you have to do.
Thank you.
Here, I've got something for you.
An orange! There aren't any in the shops.
I'll fly to Seville and get you a crate.
Get me some apples while you're at it.
A shilling a pound! The whole world's going mad.
Look at them.
She works in an aircraft factory.
I know, she told me.
I like her.
Greville talks about getting married when the war's over.
What's wrong with that?
Making plans?
Nothing, I suppose.
Oh, I hate it when you're in this sort of mood, Andrew.
You're right, I'm awful company. I'm pushing off.
Home?
Wing Co wants me to take a long weekend. Thinks I've got battle fatigue.
Maybe you have.
I'm sorry, Sam.
Do you want me to drive you? No, best not.
God, I feel quite drunk.
All the water in the beer, I must have drunk plenty.
See you, Sam.
Tomorrow.
Andrew?
Are you still up?
This is unexpected.
Weekend pass. Well, good to see you.
You're up very late.
Yep.
Oh, God. Dad, I'm so sorry.
I should have been there with you. No. I wasn't expecting you.
I've let you down. No, you've not let me down.
I'm letting everyone down.
The thing is, I forgot - I just forgot.
Andrew, it doesn't matter.
No.
Nothing much matters any more.
Better be...
Is that lipstick?
On your cheek?
Is it?
Evening out. Oh.
Colour suits you.
Now, this shouldn't hurt too much, Mr Hayden.
Actually, it will, but we've pumped you so full of morphine,
we hope you won't notice.
Now, what I'm going to do here is
I'm just going to remove this flaming pad
and then,
we can have a butcher's at what's happening with this Thiersch graft.
That's it. We'll see how it's coming along.
I think we can say it's taking very well.
I would say that that was 80%, hm?
Which is excellent.
You'll soon be playing the piano.
All the more remarkable, since you couldn't play it before.
Good God and Highlanders. Not again!
This is beyond a joke, Brian.
Forget the forceps - let's get out the torches and the candles.
Was it a fuse? No, somebody turned off the mains.
What is going on here, Brian?
I have a feeling somebody has it in for us.
That reminds me, more bad news - Smythe wants to see you.
Oh, it was only a matter of time. Where is he?
I don't know, probably on patrol.
Another week and I'll be out of here.
We'll be glad to see the back of you. You're looking at it...
the surgeon used it to rebuild my face.
I'm sure it's an improvement on what was there before.
Flight Lieutenant Bridges?
Sir? I think you might sit to attention when I'm in the room.
I'm...awfully sorry, sir.
And Matron, with the greatest respect,
would you please get rid of those?
The beer barrels, sir? They're not empty yet.
Whether or not they are empty is beside the point.
They shouldn't be there.
Good morning, sir.
How are you today?
Morning, Drake. Your leg not causing bother, with this damp weather?
No. Thank you.
I'm afraid I've come to see you about the rent, sir.
It doesn't matter about the rent.
That's good. Because I'm afraid we can't manage it again.
In fact, I need a bit of money from you.
How much this time?
50 bob should cover it.
It's the roof - it lost a lot of tiles in the bad weather.
I don't have the money.
I don't mean right now. Any time to suit you.
Right.
I feel a discussion between us is long overdue.
If this is about tomorrow's show, the clog-dancing troupe is full.
It has nothing to do with your review. Fire away.
I want to start by saying
my admiration for your work comes second to none.
Thank you. However, I do find some of your methods highly unorthodox.
Such as?
Well, ignoring the shenanigans tomorrow night,
let's start with the dispensation of alcohol in the wards.
Beer?
I let the men drink beer? On duty.
You don't think these men have done their duty and they can relax?
Not while they're part of the RAF. I don't need you to lecture me on duty.
Why are the men not properly dressed? The conscious ones?
Again, you are being facetious.
I met a flight lieutenant, half in uniform, half out of it.
He was a disgrace.
I wonder who you mean. Bridges.
Oh, yes, Bridges.
His Wellington was shot to pieces over Gelsenkirchen.
They were bombing German oil installations.
He flew back, saving his entire crew.
He was burned from head to toe and you're saying he's a disgrace?
Not the man, Jamieson, his lack of correct hospital uniform.
He can't wear correct hospital uniform - I destroyed them.
What? The uniforms were horrible...
they made the men look and feel like prisoners, too.
You destroyed them? Whatever genius thought them up
forgot these men don't have the use of their fingers.
I destroyed them. What will you do about that? Make a report.
Right.
You do just that.
Tell the drivers' pool I need a car at once.
Sir!
Thank you. Take me to Hastings, please.
Look out!
I wanted a word with you.
I have an op line here from Air Officer Commanding.
AOC? Yes. They're in a hell of a flap.
They've got the German U-boat fleet sinking 40,000 tons of our shipping a month.
I didn't know it was that bad. Top brass keep it under their hats.
The Admiralty suspect
that the U-boats are operating out of Le Havre.
They want someone to take a shufty...tonight.
A night op, sir?
The Air Ministry has a new camera that photographs heat
but they need a very slow pass.
The Spit's Merlin will be lit up like a Christmas tree.
I know. What do you think of Greville Woods for the job?
I'm capable of flying this. I don't want an argument, just an opinion.
Do you think he's up to it?
Well, there's no doubt he's a good flyer, sir.
But his Spit's in dock.
Well, he can take yours.
Apart from Sir Michael, who I assume had a key to the roof,
who else had one?
His housekeeper, Mrs Roecastle.
She still lives in the manor. She helps with the cleaning.
Mm-hm.
Anyone else?
Well, I have a full set. I imagine that's it.
A lion and a unicorn?
Yes, it appears on the old boy's coat of arms.
I told you - his family have owned this place since the Magna Carta.
This stone's almost completely corroded.
It could have been an accident.
This was no accident
Wouldn't take a great deal to push this one over.
More sabotage, you think? What else could it be?
Well, it seems that Smythe isn't the most popular of people.
Attempted murder?
Don't put that thought into his head!
He's self-important enough as it is.
God knows what it will do if he thinks he's worth assassinating.
He has the authority to get you out and you argued before the incident.
You're not saying you suspect me? I'm a surgeon!
I save lives, I don't take them.
In his case I might make an exception!
Patrick... It was an accident!
God knows we've had enough lately. Let me ask you, Mr Foyle...
whose side are you on?
Well, nobody's.
Someone may have it in their mind to close this place
and with a police investigation and your suspicions,
well, it might be enough to help them succeed.
Sir Michael, you were at the manor house this morning.
Who told you that?
A nurse saw you go in before the statue fell. I go in all the time.
Are you accusing me? No, sir, certainly not.
You think I ran up the stairs and onto the roof?
These days I can barely walk.
Were you injured in the last war?
June 1917, the Messines Ridge, 11th Kent Fusiliers.
It must be very difficult for you, sir, losing your home like this.
I thought I'd be left in peace. It was all I wanted.
You wouldn't think it was too much to ask, would you?
I brought you lunch, Sir Michael.
I am sorry, sir. I didn't realise you had company.
This gentleman's a police officer.
Mrs Roecastle, my housekeeper...
when I had a house.
Were you at the manor this morning?
I was.
But I was cleaning on the first floor, sir.
I didn't see anything.
I heard the crash and I looked out of the window.
There was Group Captain Smythe.
Then I heard Dr Wrenn come running downstairs.
Downstairs?
I think so, sir.
Maybe I'm wrong.
He'd certainly run from somewhere.
Hello. Don't tell me you're with the rozzers, you're far too pretty.
I'm afraid I am, sort of.
I'm Johnny Bridges.
Sam Stewart. Well, then, Sam Stewart,
you wouldn't have a cigarette, would you?
It's the one thing Grace Petrie won't allow.
The Matron - she thinks it's a fire risk.
With one thing and another, that's a little ironic, don't you think?
Here you are. Thanks.
I'm afraid you're going to have to light it for me.
Jamieson's done wonders but there's not a lot he can do about these.
You a pilot?
Was, I think you should say.
Definitely past tense.
I don't know what I'm going to do now.
Modelling and film work are definitely out.
You shouldn't joke like that.
Why ever not?
In fact, we're putting on a show tomorrow night,
you should come along.
I don't think they'd let me.
Of course, the investigation.
Did somebody really try and kill Group Captain Smythe?
I don't know.
Well, it certainly wasn't me.
I wouldn't have missed.
Thanks for the cigarette.
It's good of you to let me fly your Spit, Andrew.
Make sure you bring it back in one piece.
You know, I'm really grateful to you.
I know without your say-so
the Wing Co wouldn't have trusted me with this
and it means a lot to me.
You can outfly anyone in the squadron. I didn't do anything.
And if anything does go wrong,
you'll tell Anne I was thinking of her and all that?
Nothing will go wrong. I know.
You're a decent sort, Andrew. A good friend.
Dr Wrenn?
Yes?
Sorry to bother you, sir. Do you live here?
Yes. Is there a problem?
Not exactly, sir, but...
It's none of my business but have you got a minute?
What? I think we should have a word.
What's this, then? Corned beef with cabbage.
There was nothing else in the house.
It's disgusting.
Tune in to the Kitchen Front, buck up your ideas.
So, that's where you go at nights, is it, then?
Found someone to cook for you? Turn it off.
How can I buy decent food with the money you give me?
Here we go again. Everything my dad gave me, you went through it.
Pennies. You never gave me anything, not since the day I married you.
I got you this house! I don't want to know about that.
You and Waterford. Don't think I don't know what's going on.
It's got nothing to do with you. I could tell a story or two.
Maybe you could but maybe you'd be wiser not to.
It's time I taught you a lesson.
No, please. Don't!
You're very quiet.
Tell me about Gordon Drake.
Who? You know who I mean.
He used to work at the garage.
He's a mechanic with the RAF.
Has he...has he been here?
Yes. But he just...
What? He mended the fuse.
If I thought...
If I thought for one minute...
What would you do, Brian? Stick one of your knives in him?
You don't know me.
You don't understand my feelings.
You don't have feelings. Not any more, not for me.
Check.
If you do that, it's checkmate. You're not concentrating.
You're too good for me. Far from it.
What's the problem?
Nothing.
You know I'm not flying at the moment.
It's good to have you home.
Well, that's just it.
I've been top dog in the squadron for months.
But today,
Wing Co stood me down.
It was a very important op.
Six months ago, I'd have given anything to have done it.
A lot's happened in six months.
The truth is, Dad,
I was actually relieved.
I didn't want to fly.
Didn't want to go anywhere near it.
I even handed over my own plane.
You feel guilty about that?
Yes, I suppose I do.
Then I wonder, what happens now?
What happens next?
I'd rather you never flew again
but that's not going to happen cos you'll have to.
Until we're on the other side of this,
we'll have to live day-to-day and hope for the best.
The best?
That we at least get through it.
I can't get out! Get me out!
Colonel Woods!
The slide is stuck!
This whole thing is going to blow!
Give me a hand.
Get away! Get away from it, it's going to blow!
Bloody hell.
Sir, I found something that might be of interest.
What's that? Gordon Drake, posted with the RAF.
What's he do? He's an erk.
He's billeted on the drome
but he also rents a cottage on the estate at Digby Manor with his wife.
He has a police record - demanding money with menaces, assault.
He did 18 months.
And while I can't see he'd have any reason personally for sabotage,
if Sir Michael wanted these people out... He might employ Drake.
18 months?
With hard labour. Right.
Drake? What is it you want to know about him?
He rents a cottage here, is that right? Yeah.
I knew his father in the war. As a matter of fact, he was my batman.
18 years old.
In the Fusiliers? The 11th Kent Fusiliers, till I was wounded.
At Messines. Got a bullet in the leg.
Drake got me out of the bloody trench.
What happened to him?
Died. Car accident.
Son turned up here, needed somewhere to live,
it was the least I could do.
So, what, he lives here for nothing?
No, no, no. He pays his rent.
Sometimes.
Mrs Drake? That's right.
Oh, what's happened to you? It's nothing, I...fell.
Is your husband in? He won't be home until tonight.
He only comes home when he has leave,
then I wait till the pubs shut.
He's in the Air Force? I'm not supposed to tell you.
Ground crew, is that right?
Thank you. Has somebody looked at that?
It's all right, thank you. I don't need any help.
Andrew!
Not now, Sam.
Excuse me, you have a pilot here, his name is Greville Woods.
Yes. And who are you?
I'm a friend.
I'm afraid he can't see you. I'm a close friend.
We're in the same squadron. Sorry.
Please? He can't see you, he can't see anyone. He's badly burned.
His hands and his face.
His eyes are bandaged and we don't know about his sight.
Can I just look in for a minute?
I won't try to talk to him or anything.
Look...he was flying my plane.
Well, just for a moment.
Wouldn't stay here long if I were you.
What?
They'll have your arse off and use it to patch up some other blighter.
That's enough, thank you, Mr Bridges.
# The Sun Has Got His Hat On
Are you happy with the saline level? Yes, Mr Jamieson.
Now...
I'm going to have a little butcher's, here.
Take that left hand, that's it, very gently.
Just immerse that very gently into the saline.
And down, and down. You should just feel a little touch.
What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here.
Matron, take this man away, please.
Sorry, Greville. We'll just dip that very gently into the saline.
Andrew, what's going on?
It's Woods.
He's burned.
He can't see.
Oh, no. I'm so sorry.
It was in my Spit. The cockpit didn't open.
Andrew, your father's here.
I'm going to find Drake.
What?
Go and get Anne. He's asking for her. Tell her what's happened.
Tell her she needs to be here.
- It's quite a place. - It certainly is.
Or has been. I can imagine how he feels.
Sir Michael? Mm.
This is the only way up to the roof?
Yes, sir.
Right. Must remember to get my attic stairs carpeted.
Ah, Mr Foyle. Found anything yet?
No. Anything else happen?
No, thank God. That's the last thing we need.
Smythe is already writing his report.
He's decided the place is a death trap
and the men would be safer in a gun tower.
Having you chaps here doesn't help, either.
The police investigating the RAF, not the done thing, old bean.
Would you rather we left? Absolutely not.
As a matter of fact, we're having a party.
It's a concert party. I want you to be there. Well...
Refusals aren't allowed! And you can bring that pretty driver.
Attractive women in uniform, that's what makes the war worth fighting!
Anne, I'm so sorry.
I didn't want to be the one to tell you.
How bad is it? I haven't seen him but I spoke to Andrew and a nurse.
You're going to have to be very brave. Tell me.
His face has been burned.
He's going to have to have surgery.
And they don't yet know whether...
Tell me. What?
Whether he can see.
Oh, don't. Oh, please, don't.
Not Greville. He's 19 years old.
How did it happen?
Shot down?
The canopy wouldn't open.
What? Andrew told me.
It's that mechanic, isn't it? Drake.
I don't know. Yes, you do.
Greville told me about him.
Andrew had the same problem with his plane.
It was Andrew's plane he was flying. Oh, Anne, I'm so sorry.
It wasn't your fault. It wasn't Andrew's fault.
It was Drake.
Greville's been asking for you. I can drive you there if you like.
No.
I don't want to see him. Not yet.
Please don't ask me.
But you love him.
I loved him the way that he was
but I don't want to see him now, not how he is.
I can't.
Mr Foyle, Mr Foyle!
I need your help.
I understand you're a bit of a sleuth.
Which bit did you have in mind?
My name is Jamieson and I need someone with a nose for crime.
I'm sorry, Mr Jamieson, my nose stays where it is.
Pity. But listen to me...
something terrible has happened.
Someone has dropped a statue on Group Captain Smythe.
That is terrible.
You're telling me. They missed!
I'll be right back.
# Paris without the Eiffel Tower
# Spring without an April shower
# Sherlock Holmes without a single clue
# Imagine it, I just about can
# I'll agree to Hirohito without Japan
# I just can't imagine
# What the world would be like without you
# London without Trafalgar Square
# Ginger without Fred Astaire
# A rainbow that's insane for it has no blue
# Imagine it, I'd try if I could
# I could see the trees but without the wood
# I simply can't imagine
# What the world would be like without you #
Is someone there?
Sorry. You're muddy.
Sssh!
# Imagine it I'll try if you ask me
# But a world without you would be simply too ghastly
# I could never do it
# So don't put me through it
# I just can't imagine
# What the world would be like without you #
Bravo!
Who found him?
His wife, sir. She's inside.
Anything in that? Yeah, possibly.
You spoken to her?
Just briefly.
Upset?
Not very, but you saw her bruises.
Could she have done this? It could have been her.
We'll have another word with her.
There is one peculiarity, though, sir - cause of death.
The medical officer thinks he may have drowned.
I'm not sad that he's dead. I'm not.
That's a wicked thing to say, isn't it?
Did you really get those injuries in a fall?
I said that but it wasn't true.
He was a bully. All smiles when I first met him.
But that's when I still had money.
My dad had left me with some.
Do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill your husband?
No-one,
apart from half the husbands in Hastings.
And maybe you should talk to Sir Michael.
Oh, why? Gordon was always getting money from him.
A tenner here, a fiver there.
And we got this house for nothing.
Is this your father?
It was taken the year before he died.
Oh, I'm sorry.
You got this house for nothing. Why was that, do you think?
He never told me. It was something to do with his dad.
He served with Sir Michael. He was his batman.
I never met him.
But if he was anything like his son...
Anyone who can look after you, Mrs Drake?
I suppose I'll telephone Pip.
Who's Pip? My brother, Pip.
He's...in London.
I haven't seen him for a while
but maybe he'll come down.
Do you think she killed him, sir?
No. Do you? No.
Although she'd have every reason to.
How can any man treat a woman like that?
Sir, Gordon Drake - it's embarrassing but I know him.
Yes? I believe he works at the same airfield as your son.
I have a friend, Anne Bolton. She's walking out with Greville Woods.
Yes, a friend of Andrew's. He's at Digby Manor. He's been hurt.
What happened to Woods may have been his fault.
Woods is in the burns unit?
I'm sorry to trouble you again.
Do me a favour - Get this investigation over with and get out.
There are still one or two questions to ask.
I have a patient waiting, a young pilot.
He has burns and he may lose the use of his eyes.
Do you want me to answer questions or treat him?
The young pilot is a close friend of my son
who is also a young pilot.
I'm aware that your work is more important than Drake's murder
or who did it
and frankly I'd rather not be here either
but should Drake's life not matter because he was less of a man
than the men you're treating?
Well, I'm sorry. Yes.
I will answer your questions, yes.
Thank you. Well, there aren't any. Not for you.
I have more for Dr Wrenn, who's speaking with my sergeant now.
I thought I should let you know.
Apologies for keeping you from Greville's treatment.
Dr Wrenn is a suspect? He was at the concert party last night.
Er, not all the time.
Yes, I was feeling exhausted. I needed some air.
So, I came out of that door there
and I strolled for a couple of minutes only.
Forgive me, but it was longer.
Five minutes, tops.
When you went back in, you had mud on your clothes.
I slipped. I don't know how you can interrogate me this way.
I helped you.
You wouldn't even be working for the police if it wasn't for me.
Did you notice anything when you came out here?
Er, yes. Not Drake.
There was a girl.
Can you describe her?
Slim, no more than 20 years old, quite pretty.
She was over there. I hadn't seen her before.
So, you've met Woods?
Yes, sir. How many times?
A few. If you met him, you must have seen Andrew?
Yes, I've seen him there once or twice.
There? Where's there?
Wherever.
I had no idea you had such a wide social circle. Just drinks, really.
Excuse me, sir. There's an ARP warden, Peter Preston, you know him.
He'd like to have a word with you, sir. He says it's urgent.
It was stupid of me, none of my business. Why were you there?
Blackout. She was showing a light.
Why did you feel you needed to tell him?
Didn't seem right to me, a woman having men in the house.
Did you know the man you saw?
Everyone knew Gordon Drake. A bit of a dodgy customer.
Make a habit of involving yourself in the lives of people on your rounds?
No, sir. And that's why I've come to you now. I feel awful.
He's dead and I may be to blame.
I knew him when he worked at the garage on Fawcett Road.
He was always very polite, very friendly.
Was he here often?
Yes. He cared.
At least he paid me some attention.
It's not too much to ask, is it?
And he was here the night the warden came round?
He came to fix the lights.
There was a fuse or something.
And of course, he stayed.
He gave me stockings.
Real ones. He made me feel good.
Brian was never here.
Someone told him and, of course, he hit the roof.
The usual dramatics.
He even told me he'd kill Gordon Drake.
But do you think he did it?
I tell you, he didn't.
I know Brian
and he doesn't have it in him.
Any sign of Andrew Foyle yet?
No, sir.
Mrs Roecastle, have you seen anyone come this way?
No, Matron. How long have you been here?
Just a few minutes.
How much is missing?
All of it. What are we talking about? Several pounds of morphine?
Diamorphine hydrochloride in powder and in pills.
Mrs Roecastle didn't see anything.
Has it occurred to you to keep the pharmacy locked?
It was locked. We have patients who need their evening doses.
It's another mess, Mr Jamieson.
Another complete mess.
Sam...
Andrew! What on earth are you doing here? I have to see you.
Shouldn't you be at...
You'd better come inside.
Here, have some tea.
I wish I had some whisky.
I had to see you.
If my landlady finds us, we're both for the high jump.
I thought you were on duty. Sam...
I've gone AWOL. What?
Why? I can't go back.
I don't care what happens to me.
But you must. They'll come looking for you.
Andrew, what is it? I'm so tired.
For weeks now. I don't sleep, I can't eat,
I feel sick.
Sometimes I can't stand it because you're not with me.
Other times, I don't care if I ever see you again.
I know that's horrible, I don't want it to be true
but it's as if you don't exist for me, as if we never met.
You're tired, that's all. I'm not just tired, Sam!
When I saw Greville and the others in that place...
Don't think about them. It won't happen to you.
It will happen to me, I know.
He was in my plane, Sam.
He flew my op. It should have been me.
You can't stay here, Andrew.
You've got to go back.
I can't.
They'll find you.
You can't run away from them forever.
Don't make me go back.
Medical officer in? He's downstairs, sir.
Oh, a lucky morning for you. If only.
These for lunch, sir? Not this time.
Get him to take a look at them. What's the matter with them?
Hopefully, we'll find out. Sir?
Dr Wrenn's here.
I'm not lying. Everything I've told you is the truth.
And you've never met Gordon Drake?
Yes, I've never met him. I knew who he was.
Even though he was having an affair with your wife?
I knew she was seeing someone. Drake!
Did you kill him? I'm a doctor! Milner, for heaven's sake.
This is the shirt you were wearing on the night of the review.
Where did you get that?
There's blood on the sleeve. Can you explain it?
It's easy to explain.
It's my work! One way or another,
I'm in contact with blood every day of my life.
I don't think he killed Drake, sir.
Oh, why's that?
I know him and I don't think he's capable of murder.
Is it possible your relationship is affecting your judgment? Perhaps.
He was a dedicated man and a brilliant doctor.
When I came back to England,
I wasn't good for anything. I remember.
He didn't just patch me up. When you asked me to work with you,
he helped persuade me. I didn't know that.
Well, somebody did it. Have you spoken to Anne Bolton?
No, she wasn't at work yesterday.
She might be today.
Yes?
Complements of the MO, sir.
He says you should change your fishing technique.
Oh, did he, really?
How much is missing?
Half a dozen bottles, large ones,
and four bags of diamorphine hydrochloride, about this size.
Do you keep an inventory? Of course.
It seems impossible this could happen in broad daylight.
The thief would have to carry a large bag.
Through the middle of the hospital. Absolutely. Bound to have been seen.
What do you think, Mr Foyle?
A haul like this would be worth a ransom to one of these London gangs.
Anybody in the corridor when it happened? Only Mrs Roecastle.
She was cleaning. She could hardly manage one of the bottles.
Who found all this, then? Grace Petrie.
Well, goodbye, Matron.
Goodbye, Mr Bridges.
I can't say I'll miss you. You've been one of my worst patients and a very bad influence.
And you've been a tyrant who's made my life almost unbearable.
Seems we understand each other perfectly.
I think we always did.
Miss Bolton, were you at Digby Manor the night before last?
Do you think I killed Gordon Drake?
Do you blame him for what happened to your fiance?
Yes.
But I didn't kill him.
I was there, though.
I arrived at about nine o'clock.
There was music coming from inside the hospital.
But I didn't see anything.
So there's nothing I can tell you.
And why were you there?
Sam told me Greville had been hurt.
She told me I should visit him.
But it was only when I was there, I realised I didn't want to.
Does that sound very cruel to you, Sergeant Milner?
I can't see him.
I don't want to see him.
I want the Greville I was in love with, who I was going to marry.
I tried to make myself visit him. That's why I was there that night.
But I couldn't do it.
I couldn't face him.
Thank you, Miss Bolton. You think I'm disgusting?
No.
But I will speak out of turn, if you don't mind.
This is fake, it's aluminium.
I lost most of my leg at Trondheim last year.
I was a mess when they carried me home.
Maybe not as bad as your fiance
but there was massive scarring everywhere.
I'm sorry.
You shouldn't be. I'm the man I was before. I haven't changed.
And what are you saying?
That Greville is still the same?
He won't be if you leave him.
It's been fairly obvious from the beginning
that somebody has taken exception to the manor's use as a burns centre
and has done everything to get Mr Jamieson's team out.
Do you know who this person is, Mr Foyle?
Sir Michael, it is your house,
it's you who's been turned out of it and forced to live here.
It's the war.
Which is why sabotage is a particularly serious crime
and why with great regret, I now have to arrest you.
No. No, no, no!
You're wrong!
With the possible charge of attempted murder,
a very long prison sentence may be involved.
No! It wasn't him.
Who was it, then, Mrs Roecastle?
It was me.
Thank you.
Sorry to have put you through that, sir.
Mrs Roecastle, is this true?
Yes, sir.
I didn't mean to hurt anybody
but I had to get them out.
Perhaps the way you began,
with stolen papers, torn sheets, was forgivable
but not the degree to which it escalated.
How, escalated?
Well, you told us for example
that you heard Dr Wrenn coming downstairs from the roof
when nobody can hear anything on those carpeted stairs.
It was you, wasn't it, who pushed the statue?
Look out!
And all those stolen drugs?
Was that you?
You don't have the drugs, do you? You dumped them in the river.
And the diamorphine killed the fish.
How did you get them out of the house?
You put them in the bag of the vacuum cleaner you were using, didn't you?
Those drugs were needed. Why did you do this?
For you, sir.
I knew they were breaking your heart, taking over the manor house.
I could see what they were doing to you. No, no, no!
I don't mind, those poor young men, I'm glad they're here.
But you had a gun, sir! You were going to use it on yourself.
Mrs Roecastle, you've done a terrible, wicked thing.
You haven't understood me at all.
You've no idea.
I did it for you, sir.
Well, I did think sometimes...
often...
of taking my own life.
Why?
Because I know what I am.
Because I know I'm a fake.
Sometimes living with myself is hard.
I was at Messines Ridge in the summer of 1917,
Battle of Ypres.
For God's sake, I was their commanding officer.
My batman was a man called Martin Drake, Gordon's father.
Yes, you told me.
What I didn't tell you was, it was hell.
They were strafing us with gas shells. They were whining overhead.
The gas and the shrapnel and the shells,
the mud and the blood, the rifles, machine guns, artillery...
the noise!
And the endlessness of it.
I did think it would never end until I was dead, ripped to pieces.
Some of the wounds I saw...
young men with their entrails hanging out.
I'd had enough.
I took out my gun
and I shot myself in the leg.
I had to get out of there, it was the only way.
That's what I did.
Drake saw. He carried me to the field hospital.
And as far as I knew, he never told anyone.
And he wrote about it to his son.
Gordon turned up and showed me the letter. He knew it would ruin me.
He made me pay.
I've been paying ever since.
In the end, I expect he'd have taken everything I have.
Except my self-respect.
Lost that 25 years ago.
You could work in the hospital here, lots you could do.
But these men are so...brave.
We call them "the few" but who could have thought
this country could produce so many of them?
My son's one of them. Then you're a very fortunate man.
Right. Let's have these off and we'll have a look at the damage.
Now. I'd like to come in. I'm his fiancee.
Anne? Absolutely, sit down.
The first thing he should see when these come off
is a pretty face like yours.
I thought you weren't going to come.
I'm here.
I'll never leave you.
Will I see? Well, let's find out.
Where have you been?
I should have come.
But I couldn't bear it. I was afraid.
I can see you.
I'm so pleased you're here.
Oh, sir...
Ah, Mr Foyle.
Wing Commander. I wonder if I might have a word.
Certainly.
I shouldn't be here, Mr Foyle. It goes against every rule in the book.
What's the problem? I'm afraid that Andrew is absent without leave
and I was hoping you might help me find him.
So you can do what, exactly?
He's been gone less than 48 hours
but I should have reported his absence to the RAF police.
Too many of the top brass at Command and Group
think that human error is a question of morale.
They throw the book at anyone who steps out of line.
LMF, they call it - "lack of moral fibre".
What do you call it? I see the truth of it.
These young men, we ask so much of them.
It's not just the number of ops they fly and the mental strain,
it's lack of sleep. No wonder they get ill.
Flying stress, combat fatigue, shell shock, even.
There are many names,
just not enough of us prepared to recognise it.
He's certainly not been himself recently
but I've not seen him for a day or two.
In that case, there's nothing I can do.
He'll be charged with desertion.
Erm...
How long has he got?
I can give him until two o'clock this afternoon. No longer than that.
Dad. Andrew.
How did you know I was here? How do you think? Get your coat.
Thank you.
Thanks.
So, you know about me and Sam.
I do.
Sorry.
For what? Well, she is your driver.
She's my very attractive driver and it's perfectly understandable.
I've let everyone down, haven't I? No, that's not the case.
Turner came to see me. Did he?
He wants you back. For the court martial.
No. Well, so long as you're back by two, that is.
No, he's...
I met a man the other day who fought in the last war.
He was in the thick of it
and rather than fight, he chose to shoot himself in the leg.
25 years ago that was cowardice and he'd have been shot.
But now men like Turner have a better understanding
of the limit to how much you can ask of people.
He seems to think you've got a kind of combat fatigue.
Sort of like another way of getting burned.
So, he asked you to find me?
No, but he gave me the opportunity. Sam helped.
And all three of us have your best interests at heart
because we care about you.
Dad, I know who killed Gordon Drake.
Yes, so do I. No, I was there when it happened.
I was waiting for him at his house. What were you doing there?
I was going to confront him.
It was his fault that Greville was burned.
Maybe I'd have killed him myself.
Is someone there?
Drake!
What? You leave my wife alone.
It was Wrenn, one of the doctors at the hospital.
He's in custody, which is where you'll be if you don't get back.
Sam will drive you. It's all right, I'll go on my own.
No, you haven't got time. She'll drop you outside, you can walk in.
You're going straight back to the Ministry, Group Captain?
Yes, Mr Jamieson.
Now that the business of the sabotage has been taken care of,
there's no reason to stay.
And you'll be putting in your report? I already have.
And?
I've pointed out that you are arrogant,
ill-disciplined, disrespectful,
that you run this place entirely as a law unto yourself.
I have also made it clear
that you get results
and that the patients have a great deal to be thankful for.
I have recommended that you be allowed to get on with things
without interference from people like myself.
Thank you.
Good luck.
Sir, Dr Wrenn has asked to see you.
Sergeant, have you seen Preston? I think he's in the canteen, sir.
Got the household registry form for the Wrenns'?
It'll be in the Wrenn file, sir. Thank you.
It's Peter Preston, isn't it?
Yes, sir.
Right. Ask him to pop in if he's got a second, would you?
Sir.
Mr Foyle,
I haven't told you the truth.
Well, we, erm...
we sort of spotted that.
Will you be telling us the truth now?
Yes.
You were right.
I killed Gordon Drake.
I didn't plan to, not exactly.
He was seeing my wife.
He was a worthless piece of trash and I couldn't stand it any more.
I slipped out of the concert
and I was just going to confront him, that's all.
Then I saw him
and I just lost control.
I picked up a stone.
I never meant to kill him,
I just wanted to hurt him, just knock him down.
And is that all that you did?
Yes.
He was still breathing, I could have sworn.
But, I don't know.
I was ashamed and I just ran off and left him.
Well, I'm glad you've chosen to tell us
because, in fact, you were seen.
Who? It seems half of Hastings had decided to do away with him,
it just so happened that you managed to get there first.
I'm so sorry.
I still can't believe it.
It's madness.
How do you imagine he died?
Er...
well, I just assumed I'd fractured his skull.
He drowned.
What? The blow to the head wasn't fatal.
His lungs were full of water.
Water?
There's a trough beside the house.
Yes, I remember.
He was nowhere near it when he fell, I'm sure of it.
Wh...
if you're saying he drowned in the trough, then that means...
You're off the hook! Well, you could still be charged with assault
or even attempted murder.
I never intended to kill him.
I believe you.
I also believe that I'm in your debt
since it seems I wouldn't have Milner if it hadn't been for you.
Are you going to let me go?
See Dr Wrenn out, will you? Yes, sir.
I'd be glad to.
I'm very glad to see you, Foyle.
Thank you, sir. I spoke to Greville, he's going to be all right.
That is good news, sir.
At least he still has his sight and they'll patch him up again.
His girl's standing by him.
But as for you, Foyle, you've come to the end of the road.
You're being posted to an OTU to instruct.
You're giving the young bloods some fresh ideas.
I'd already come to this decision before you took unofficial leave.
You're no longer on ops, Foyle.
You've done enough, more than enough.
Sir... I want you to know how happy I am for you.
You were a cheeky sod but you're a fine fighter pilot.
And you've grown and strengthened and I'm glad you've made it.
I'll miss you. You've done a bloody good job. Thank you, sir.
You fly up to Debden tomorrow morning, 605 Squadron.
You're also being promoted - flight lieutenant.
Good luck, Foyle.
Sir.
Yeah?
Sorry. You asked to see me, sir.
Have you got a moment? Yes, of course.
Come in.
Sit down. Is this about Dr Wrenn, sir?
In a way. I should never have told Dr Wrenn about Drake and his wife.
Yes, there's that.
And your involvement in the murder.
Murder? Drake's murder.
Sorry - beg your pardon?
You're responsible. Correct?
I...
Care to tell us why? I didn't even know the man.
Well, of course you did.
Well, yes, I knew of him.
But no, I'd never met him.
He's your brother-in-law.
You're Pip, aren't you?
My name's Peter. That's right.
Peter Ian Preston and known within your family, especially by Beryl,
by your initials. She's your sister, correct?
Her maiden name is Preston, both grew up in the Forest of Dean.
Not much of your accent left but you're the image of your father.
Is this your father? It was taken the year before he died.
Your sister didn't land you in it intentionally.
However, she did mention a brother, Pip.
She seemed nervous at having done so and made out he was living in London.
She's my sister, yes.
Tell us what happened the night of the concert.
The night of the concert,
I was going round to see her.
I didn't know he'd be there.
Help!
What happened?
Wrenn.
Come on, come on.
Wrenn...
It couldn't have worked out better for you.
All you had to do was drag him to the trough, force his head in the water.
You hoped, correctly, that Dr Wrenn would take the blame.
As long as nobody knew the connection between you and Beryl,
you'd be in the clear.
If you'd left him underwater and put his shoe back on, you might have got away with it.
You should have seen the way he treated her.
He was a bully, he was a wife-beater.
I had to protect her, had to...
..put him down.
And I don't care what happens to me.
I'm glad.
I did it.
You'll write, then? Of course I will.
I wonder.
You got cash? Yeah, I'm fine, Dad.
And how do you feel?
It's hard to say.
I can't believe it's all over.
I can't imagine there will be anything like it again.
At least you've got the chance of a life now,
assuming we get through all this.
Seems there's a queue to say goodbye to you.
See you, Dad.
I hate goodbyes.
It's only Debden, it's not that far.
I know.
We'll write and there are always weekends.
Please don't try to cheer me up any more, Andrew.
Well, you look after Dad for me.
We'll look after each other.
Good luck, Sam.
And you.
You all right? Yes, sir.
All present and correct.
Well, I'll miss him.
Will you?
Yes, sir.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to become involved.
Well, I did, but...
Well, the Foyles...
always have been hard to resist.
Absolutely, sir.