02x03 - Episode 3

[bunniefuu]

JAZZ MUSIC PLAYS

LAUGHTER

THUNDER RUMBLES

Oh, our dear darling Hannah.

Returned to us at last,
after so many years.

SHE CHUCKLES A miracle.

But she should
get some sleep now, yes?

-After that crossing.
-Soon, Papa.

I want to watch you work.

-It's been a long time.
-Hmm.

Don't stay up too late.

Ah.

Lovely evening, isn't it?

HE SCOFFS For ducks.

-Look at you, you're soaking wet. Come inside.
-What?

Come in. Come in. Get dry.

You'll catch your death.

It caught your eye, huh?

The stripes.

-Evening.
-Hello.

Last you a lifetime,
a good whistle.

A rite of passage for every man.

Ah, sorry, mate. Uh, you got it
wrong. I... I can't afford nothing.

Ah, but you got an eye
for quality, though, hmm?

-It's lovely work.
-It's a pig.

All gone to waste.
Fella never turned up.

Paid for it, never turned up.

Yeah, some people must be...
Decadent... made of money.

Hmm.

What you doing?

Got an idea, haven't I? Off.

So... what do you say?

No, you are kidding.

Relax, chum.
God wants you to have this suit,

otherwise he'd have made you taller
or fatter.

He must have plans for you.

Excuse me.

Ah.

Perfect.

Douglas.

T... Terrence.

-Wallet.
-What?

Give me your wallet, q*eer.

I don't think so.

Ah!

MAN: He's getting away!

HE CHUCKLES

LADIES LAUGHING

SHOUTING

MAN: Hey, where are you going?

HE SIGHS

-You're sure?
-Yes, I'm quite allright, really. It's only a scratch.

I just feel a bit of a fool.
It's an old trick.

What's in the papers?

Oh, Soviets rattling their sabres,

aftermath of the w*r trials.

A few interesting house clearances
coming up, might be worth a look.

Ah, the Chronicle Diary!
I used to love this.

-By The Man Who Wants to Know. Oh, I know him.
-How?

You wouldn't want to know.
SHE LAUGHS

Is Jack in bed?
No, he went out on the town.

Well, I hope he has
a bit more luck.

THUNDER CRASHES

Come along, darling.
I've made up the bed.

Good night, Papa.

At last, she sees sense.

Hmm.

BELL JINGLES

Good evening?

For ducks.

MAN SCREAMING

KNOCK ON DOOR

CHATTERING

Where on earth is it?

It must be here somewhere.

Moby d*ck?

In Bulgarian, second edition.

Saw it just the other day or week.

Or was it before the w*r?
What's on the cover?

Nice little illustration.
Back strip missing, some foxing.

Could be anywhere.

Nonsense. I have a system, remember?

-Yes.
-We know.

BELL JINGLES

Can I help you, miss?

Well, I doubt you'll have it.

Oh, we probably do.
You see, it is rather uncommon.

Music to our ears.

Three Men... In a Boat.
Oh, we've got that. I've seen...

-on the Bummel.
-Eh?

Three Men on the Bummel.
It's the follow-up.

-It's about bicycles instead of boats.
-Exactly.- Oh.

-Erm... I did wonder if you'd have it.
-Shh.- Eh?

-Shut up.
-Eh? - Sorry, thinking.

-Uh, first edition?
-Naturally.

-Ooh.
-Three Men on the Bummel,

first edition by Jerome K Jerome,
as requested.

-Slightly shelf-c*ck, but otherwise clean.
-Oh, marvellous.

One and eight, please.

-There you go. Thank you. Cheerio.
-Cheerio.- Bye.

Also... Call Me Ishmael.

Eh?

Moby d*ck in Bulgarian.
See? My system works.

Where was it?

Under some tins of whale meat.
Oh, my God, are those still there?

There was a w*r on, my love.

Did you know that K stood
for Klapka in Jerome K Jerome?

I didn't, but I do now.
Did you put the kippers on?

I shall tend to it forthwith.

So, what does today hold for you,
Mrs Book?

Told you.

I have a chap bringing in
some samples from Ipswich.

Ipswich, eh?

It's all go.

BELL JINGLES

-Book.
-Inspector.


to have k*lled a man.

And?

I don't believe him.

Morning. Lovely day.

Oh, Jack. Thank goodness.
Book's been called away.

I can't find Nora
and there's no-one to...

HE CLEARS THROAT

-Oh.
-Oh.

Oh.
Have I got a story for you, Mrs B?

Evidently. Where'd you...

Why don't we take the weight off
and I'll tell you all about it?

Oh, I'd love to, my dear, but I'm
rather late for an appointment.

Keep an eye on the shop, won't you?
Both of them.

I can't wait to hear.

Ah.

DOG WHINES

I don't suppose you wanna hear about
my amazing evening, do you, dog?

What?

Charming.

Very popular today, sir.

Not got any nylons
under the counter, do you?

I don't have them under anything.

Oh, here we go.

-Morning, Sergeant.
-Be ready for youin just a moment, Inspector.

Let me fill you in, sir.
This is a Mr Max Kleinmann,

tailor, owner of the premises,
naturalised in 19...


A very bad year.

Sorry.

Upstairs, we have
a Mrs Ruth Kleinmann, his wife,

and there's a granddaughter, too.

You don't need to go into all these
details, Sergeant. He...

I know the family.

What are we, a bloody peep show?

-Get these people moved back, Sergeant.
-Right, sir.

Is there nothing on
at the pictures today?

-Keep this lot back. -Come on now.
-Especially the little one.

Thanks for coming, Ernie.
Means a lot to me.

All right. Let's keep it formal.
Don't want people talking.

-About what?
-I think you know.

Favouritism.

Well, I'm grateful, Inspector.

Can you tell us exactly
what happened?

He... he just rushed in,
went for the till

and... and went for me.
And then it was instinct.

You can't help instinct.

You punched him.
I don't know my own strength.

Come on. Yep.

Not a mark on you.

I'm going to plead self-defence.
That'll swing it, won't it?

When was this?

Midnight.
Well, why were you up so late?

Catching up. Orders is orders.
Same as you.

-I've got nothing done these last few days.
-Huh?

Because we got her back, Ernie,
our precious little Hannah.

Oh, the... the granddaughter.

Yes, she's upstairs now.
The message came through Sunday.

What... what message?

From the Red Cross.
Ruth went to meet her off the boat.

Oh, what a story, Ernie.
Warsaw, Paris.

And when I think of her poor mother,
may her memory be a blessing.

Why... why don't you come up
and meet her?

Uh, I think our friend over there

is in rather more urgent need
of attention.

Go... go and join your family,
Max, Mr Kleinmann.

We'll speak shortly.

Th... thank you.

-Madam.
-I'm hereto join Colonel Winters.

Ah, yes.

Trottie.

Not too horribly late, am I?

Not a bit.

Had a bit of a flap on this morning.
Nothing serious?

No. Well, for someone perhaps.

My husband is often called away.
Leaving you to hold the fort.

Uh, yes. I don't usually mind.
But, well, today.

Well, yes. You had a very,
very important appointment.

Very, very.

And then just in time,
Jack turned up.

Jack?

Oh, he's this lad that we've
taken on, sort of an apprentice.

Looked like he'd had
quite an evening.

Out with the boys?
With the girls, I suspect.

Oh, the throes of young love.
Remember those?

Oh, God, yes.
Hideous, wounding, unbearable.

BOTH: Marvellous.
SHE LAUGHS

Well, thank God
we're past all that, eh?

Yes.

So, how was, uh, Ipswich?

I found an identity card.

Eden. Martin Eden.

Et in Arcadia ego.
What have we got, then?

Mors vehementi ictu.

Are we doing all of this in Latin?

He was k*lled by a single blow
to the throat

and he punched someone or something.

A whacking great left hook, judging
by the state of his knuckles.

Everything in order.
Suit, bowler, umbrella.

-Looks like he was on his way to work in the city.
-At midnight?

Quite a disturbance
from the fighting.

I'd reach for this
if I were choosing a waistcoat,

but if I was after a weapon,

I'd choose something... like this.

-Doesn't look like anyone's touched 'em.
-No.

Have you taken fingerprints,
Dr Calder?

What was in the broken bottle?
Cleaning solvent.

Knocked over in the fight, maybe.
Hmm. Explains the smell.

Completely clean.

-Hello.
-What is it?

If someone were cleaning up,
they missed a bit.

Is that blood?

No.

I think not.

The ladies weren't witnesses, then?

-Well, not according to Mr Kleinmann.
-Hmm.

No prints on this.
Only Mr Kleinmann's.

And nothing stolen.

Well, I know Mr Kleinmann
was handy with his hands,

but not a mark on him,
as you say, in which case...

Who's he shielding?

All right, then.
Let's get them to the station.

Right, sir.

Oh, uh, they're here
from the morgue, sir.

Very well. May they, Dr Calder?

They may.

I think it's time for you
and your family

to answer some questions,
Mr Kleinmann.

But, uh, I'd prefer you to do it
at the station,

if you don't mind. Can you?
Of course.

Oh, leave that, sir.

I'd like to tidy up, Sergeant.
It pains me, this mess.

It's evidence.
You're gonna have to wait a bit

before you can count your money.

BELL JINGLES

Can...

Can I help you?

-Well, that depends.
-On?

Whether you have
what I'm looking for.

Do you have what I'm looking for?

-Do you mind?
-Oh, here.

Thanks.

You're very useful.

A book, was it, that you wanted?

Oh, right first time.
Sweet little place.

Yeah. What was it you were after?

Well, that's the thing, you see.
I'm really just k*lling time.

I've got to go to this dreary party
later and my date has stood me up.

-Never.
-I know. Shaming.

So instead of having c*ck
at the Chalcot,

I find myself with an afternoon free

and I thought I should
read something.

-I'm always being told I should read more than just Tatler.
-Hmm.

It broadens the mind, I heard.

Well, isn't that travel?

Well, we will be travelling,
won't we?

At least as far as the Chalcot.

We?

You will come along, won't you?

Seems an awful waste of such
a handsome, well-dressed young man.

Well...
HE SIGHS

what would you want me to do?

Keep me company, of course.

There'll be heaps of food and booze.

It's my friend's birthday,
Bunty Chapman. Do you know Bunty?

-No.
-Well, she's a dear. I mean, she's dull as sticks, of course,

-but she's a dear.
-Yeah.- Anyway,

her papa is something immense
in the city

and he knows how
to wangle all sorts.

So there'll be tons of booze
and nosh

and not a ration book in sight.
Want to pop along?

Um, well, it...

-I mean, don't force yourself, darling.
-No, no. Um...

HE CLEARS THROAT
It will be fun. I guarantee it.

I am fun.

Rather a lot of fun.

Are you here all alone?

Yeah. On me Jack Jones.

-Oh, is that your name?
-No.

Jack Jones, on me own.
I am Jack, though, Jack Blunt.

-Oh, that's disappointing.
-What is?

Well, I like my men sharp.

Here, what about your book?

Oh. Yes, well,
I've got something else

to occupy my thoughts now,
haven't I?

Shall we say two? Hmm.

Ciao.

Blimey. What a story.

Terror at the Tailor's Shop,

The Bespoke m*rder.

Double-Breasted Death.

Some people hear about
the presence of a corpse

and just come running, don't they?
Horrible, innit?

I can't take you anywhere.

Don't worry, Little Bean.
It'll all be all right.

There's no need for that, Maxie.

Well, we're off.
Um, see you at the station.

-Yes, we won't be a minute. You know them then, the Kleinmanns?
-Yes.

So it's important I do this one
by the... By the book.

Quite. Oh, I meant
to tell you, Book,

I won't be seeing much of you
for a while,

-once all this business has been sorted.
-Oh?

Got... got a promotion.

Congratulations. Promotion to what?

Not... not, uh, not quite at liberty
to say just yet.

Not until all the details
have been sorted.

Is there something wrong with you?

No.

Well, marvellous, Inspector,

but let's get to the bottom
of this one first, eh?

Of course, of course.
So, who k*lled Martin Eden?

Nobody. The name is a fiction.
Literally.

Wha... what?

Oh. It's by Jack London,
isn't it?

-A novel.
-Exactly.

It's like finding Tess of the
d'Urbervilles dead on the axminster.

ENGINE STARTS

Nora.

I want you to go back
to the shop.

We should have a couple of copies
of Martin Eden knocking around,

sandwiched between John Steinbeck

and the Book of Genesis... probably.

Righto.

Hmm.

Yep.

Come with me, please, Mr Kleinmann.

I'm so sorry you had
to come back to all this, Hannah.

It's not the way I wanted it.
It's all right, Papa.

I've been through it before.

So, a stranger gave you a new suit?

Oh, Mr Kleinmann, yeah.
What a gent.

And then, you had a nice evening.
Oh, a very nice evening.

On the town and then today
a beautiful woman turns up

and invites you to a party
at the Chalcot.

Yeah. It's the suit, Trottie.
It's... it's lucky.

Hmm. What about the shoes?

What about 'em?

Hobnail boots don't really go
with the new look.

I like 'em.
Keep my feet on the ground.

Literally. Never lose sight
of your horizons, Mrs B.

Well, I better go
and change me shirt...

before I'm off out again.

I'm glad you're having fun.
That I am.

Toodle-oo.
SHE CHUCKLES

Sounds almost too good to be true.

Everything's gonna be fine,
I'm sure, Mrs Craik.

Would you like a cuppa?

No, no, I'm quite all right now,
thank you.

It just doesn't add up, Trottie.

And if Maxie Kleinmann
didn't k*ll that man, then...

-Did you say Kleinmann?
-Uh, yes, why?

Chess, he's in chess, your husband?

Well, no-one's exactly
in chess, Sergeant,

but, yes, he's... he's an expert.

That's why they invited him,

the Soviets.

Old fella off Savile Row,
a gorgeous pinstriped suit.

Where is Jack now?

He's gone back out to the Chalcot.

You know, the hotel, Knightsbridge
with some glamour puss

who turned up at the shop.

Well, he got back from Moscow
last night.

Rang me from the airport,
but he never came home.

So that's why I'm here,
to report him missing.

I don't like the sound of this,
Trottie, not one bit.

Nor me.

Something very q*eer is going on.

How long has Jack been gone?
Not long. Why?

I wonder if you could see your way
to, uh, tailing him to the Chalcot.

-Righto. See you later.
-Bye-bye.

SHE SIGHS

SHE CLEARS THROAT

I'm going to get this report in.

But don't you worry, Mrs Craik,
I'm sure he'll turn up.

Thank you.

Excuse me. My name is Book.

Did I hear you say something
about... Moscow?

Really Trottie, why are we heading
towards the Chalcot?

What is all this?
I told you, something's not right

and I don't want Jack
getting into trouble.

So, why not just have it out
with him then?

Tell him you have
a feeling in your water.

What, tell him he's being taken
for a ride by a beautiful woman?

Poor lamb's ego couldn't take it.

-You seem to have a very low opinion of us.
-Us?

Men.
SHE SCOFFS

Not at all, Reggie.
Quite the reverse.

But I know fellas and I know Jack
and this needs careful handling.

-Softly, softly. Eh?
-Softly, softly.

So, your husband rang you
from the airport?

Yes. It was a terrible line,
but something was very wrong.

-Oh?
-He was furious. "I've been used, Lily," he said, "used."

That's all he said?

No, I didn't quite understand,
but he said there's a pattern.

And this trip to Moscow,
chess, I hear?

Yes. To promote Anglo-Soviet
friendship in these troubled times.

And forgive me, um,
your husband's politics?

We voted for Clem. Of course we did.

Ted was at the relief of Belsen,
so he saw a lot.

A lot.

-We were fighting for a better future, weren't we?
-Hmm.

Do you have a photograph of Ted?

Of course, I came prepared.

Craik.

-Craik? Mm. -I know that name.
-Why do I know that name?

Very smart. Lovely suit.

Should be.

Savile Row?

Off Savile Row.
Kleinmann's, you know them?

Hello, you.

Welcome.

Straight ahead.

Tell us what happened when
you got to London, Miss Kleinmann.

It's not Miss Kleinmann,
it's Miss Krasinski.

Perhaps Miss Krasinski
should speak for herself

because she does speak English, yes?

Certainly I do.

My mother was as English as you,
Inspector.

All right, then.

After the train back to Victoria,
what happened then?

We gave Hannah our room at the back.
It's nice and quiet there.

I made up a bed on the couch.
And where was your husband?

-In the shop. -Are you sure of that?
-I don't sleep much.

And how did you become aware that
something was amiss downstairs?

I heard a crash,
uh, something breaking.

SMASHING

We've had a lot of trouble
in the past,

smashed windows, you know.

So I ran downstairs.

Yeah. And what did you see?

My husband, my Maxie,

reeling, uh, horrified,
horrified at what he'd done.

And what had he done?
Uh, k*lled that man.

I was sound asleep,

then I heard something,
someone moving about.

I panicked. I... I thought it must
be burglars so I called the police.

Called them from upstairs?

Yes. Then I went down.

I saw him lying there,
dead as a turbot.

What time was this?
Sometime after midnight.

And did you know him?
The victim, Martin Eden?

How would I know him?

I haven't been in London
since before the w*r.

Warsaw, Berlin, Paris, Dieppe.
Quite the journey you've been on,

Miss Krasinski... Krasinski.
So, your father was Polish?

Is that why you were in Warsaw?
It is.

And when did you go east?

-Summer of '39.
-Oh.

Rather late.
We told her. We warned her.

My daughter, she thought
they wouldn't come for her

because she'd married out.

Well, Mrs Kleinmann,
what did any of us really know?

We thought a signature on
a piece of paper might stop it all.

-Tea.
-Thank you so much.

Morris, Dr Calder's report.
I don't believe it's here yet, sir.

Oh, do us a favour, pop to the lab,
hurry her along, would you?

Yes, sir.

Would you join me?

Without tea, I'm a kind of Arizona,
do you see?

You're too generous, Mr Book.
It's only tea.

No, I shouldn't have gone east.

My parents.
They knew w*r was coming.

My mother was a fool for love.

And my father was a fool for money.

He had business interests in Poland
he wanted to protect.

His inheritance.
A factory, safety pins.

In ruins now, of course.

The whole world's... in ruins.

This way to the party, is it?

Well, they're such bores,
aren't they? Parties.

I thought we could, you know...

have a little celebration
of our own.

HE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY
SHE CHUCKLES

Are you sure about this?

I mean, might we not be
just preventing the lad

from having, you know,
a thoroughly splendid afternoon?

No, it's all wrong, Reggie.
It's all too easy.

And it's got something
to do with that ruddy suit.

Now, you're going
to do exactly what I say.

This was issued in Berlin.
Where were you living?

Alexanderplatz.

The Russian zone.

Just passing through, thankfully.

She got it legitimate.
It was a lot of work.

I'm sure.

All right, all right.
You can go, for now.

-This way, please.
-Thank you.

Maxie couldn't have k*lled
that bloke.

-I don't believe it. He's not physically capable.
-Then who is?

The girl, Hannah. Young, fit.

Why would she call the police?
What?

If she k*lled Martin Eden,
why would she ring up the police?

The thing is, you see,
it's a bit of an emergency.

Our friend, he's... Sick. He's sick.
And we can't get a response.

-Is it catching? -What?
-You said he was sick.

Oh, no, no, nothing like that.

But if you could just let us
have that passkey.

-Oh, I... I don't know.
-We'd reallybe most awfully grateful.

Oh, well... Thanks ever so much.

Nice to meet you, love, but I didn't
just fall off the Christmas tree.

Oh, my giddy aunt.
Trottie. What are you doing here?

Terrible shame.

It would have been an awful lot
easier for you this way.

-What would?
-Come on, Jack, we need to get you out of here.

Thanks ever so.

Taxi!

So much for softly, softly, eh?

Here, who are you?

Hmm.

"Mr Ted Craik is seeing red."
Is that the one?

-Yes. You found it?
-I found it.

I knew I'd seen
the name somewhere else.

The Man Who Wants to Know.
Can you read it out to me?

"The chess wizard was checkmated
on his trade mission to Moscow."

-Is that it?
-Yes. Go on.

"And why? Because the night before
his big speech to Kremlin top brass,"

"his suit went missing."

"'The hotel took it away to remove
a borscht stain, ' he laughed,"

"'and it went astray."

"'But a member of the Soviet Council
of Industry lent me a spare."

"'I suppose that's what's meant
by redistribution.'"

And there's a photo, too.

Can you send it to the station?

Righto.

And what about Martin Eden?

Well, you've got three copies.
Two of them are in Russian.

Are they now? Splendid work, Nora.

TTFN.Bye-bye.

I had to tell them, Papa. I'm sorry.

Hey, I'm here to tell them
the same thing.

Now, you go back with Ruthie
and look after that shop.

I'll see you soon, Papa.
For supper, Little Bean.

Beetroot?

-What?
-Nothing.

Sit down, please, Mr Kleinmann.

So formal.

Thanks a million, Reggie.
Not at all.

Good to get the old claret
pumping again.

You'll let me know how you get on.

Of course.

-Well, bye then.
-Bye.

So, what now?

I think you should get
out of that suit, Jack.

I don't think it's lucky after all.

So you have no idea. No idea why
Martin Eden's knuckles were burst.

Not a clue. Must have happened
on the way to the shop.

He was obviously a tough customer.

If so, then tailoring
is certainly on the up

amongst the criminal classes.

You're an extraordinary man,
Mr Kleinmann.

You tell us that you k*lled
a man last night,

a mystery man,
who came barrelling into your shop

and tried to rob you.

And now, just a day after
your long-lost granddaughter

has come back to you from Europe,
you're facing arrest,

imprisonment, the noose, perhaps.

And you're as cool as a cucumber.

You'd prefer me to wail and gnash
my teeth and shake my fist at God?

-Where is he?
-God?

-Mr Edward Craik. Who?
-You know him?

Ted Craik? Of course I do.
A good customer.

Knew I'd seen the name somewhere,
in your order book.

I think he came
to see you yesterday.

No. Haven't clapped eyes on him
for weeks.

Here's the order. Ready a fortnight
ago. Paid for and collected.

I made him a nice pinstripe
for one of his trips.

He plays chess. Travels a lot.

And he had another appointment
last night.

First I've heard of it.

Chest 40. Waist 32.
Collar 14 and a half.

This trip, where was he going?
Moscow.

-Dresses to the left.
-Inevitably.

-And now he's missing.
-Is he?

We're both reasonable people,
Mr Kleinmann,

we fought on the same side
in the last w*r.

We both know I'm not about
to get the thumbscrews out,

but I think you know
what's going on.

Who k*lled that man, Martin Eden,
and who he was.

And I think you're stalling.
But what for?

You don't know
what you're capable of

until the moment comes, Mr Book.

Think of the circumstances.
My wife is upstairs.

Our granddaughter,
newly returned to us, is upstairs.

A man must defend his women.
Even a man of 75.

KNOCK ON DOOR Yes.

Sorry to barge in, sir.
What is it, Morris?

Dr Calder still hasn't done
the report, sir.

Why on earth not?

Because the body never arrived, sir.

What?

Of course.

This isn't a case of domestic m*rder
or of robbery gone wrong.

Then what the hell is it?

I think we've stumbled upon
a secret world

with secret people in it.

I should know.

I've been part of it myself.

Most people join it
for a good reason.

For sound motives,
deeply held convictions.

They believe
what they're doing is right.

Country, cause, ideology.

But it also attracts rotters
and sadists.

Persons of dubious loyalty...

and flexible morality.

Met a few of those in the w*r.

A bloke in a suit
lying there on the floor...

But the w*r's over now.

The old w*r, I mean.

The one we all fought in.
The good w*r.

The just w*r.

And even if a new one is beginning...

Dead. One punch to the throat.
BELL JINGLES

-Good afternoon.
-Good afternoon.

I'm looking for
something... thrilling.

A mystery. A dead body.

Scotland Yard baffled.

-treason is still treason.
-God!

JACK GRUNTS

-And m*rder is still m*rder. All right.
-Ah-ah!

We shall need the trousers too.