Episode Summary

An Iron Curtain agent is using a young girl to extort secrets from a future British Prime Minister.

Episode Details


Guest Cast


Sir Charles Milvern: Now, you're quite sure you're all right?

Sara: Fine, thank you. Only a couple of bruises, that's all.

Sir Charles Milvern: There will be somebody inside to look after you, won't there?

Sara: No, actually. The house belongs to my uncle and he's away at the moment, in the country. Look, you've been so kind bringing me home and everything. You will come in and have a drink?

Sir Charles Milvern: Aren't you a little young to be offering strange elderly gentlemen drinks?

Sara: Well, it is after 6:00.

Sir Charles Milvern: All right. But I must make a phone call.

Ann Seaford: Hello, Simon.

Simon Culver: Oh, hello, Ann. You're up early. How did you make out?

Ann Seaford: In the purse.

Simon Culver: Was he generous?

Ann Seaford: He was a louse. I don't want to have to see him again, not ever. And you can tell Wences that for me.

Simon Culver: Well, you can tell him that yourself. He's coming here in a minute to pick me up.

Ann Seaford: Good. Simon.

Simon Culver: My dear, he was generous.

Ann Seaford: Simon, what are you doing here, anyway?

Simon Culver: Clearing up. We used the place for a badger job last night.

Ann Seaford: What was she like? [Culver hands her a photograph of Sara] Do you know who this is?

Simon Culver: I know she's got a great future. I picked her up a month ago, outside the station.

Ann Seaford: She looks very young.

Simon Culver: Yes, that was a problem, but I solved it.

Ann Seaford: In your usual way?

Simon Culver: Uh-huh. Got her hooked on me first, then really hooked. Now, she'll do anything for her daily fix. Absolutely anything.

Simon Culver: Did Ann come past you?

Henry Wences: No.

Simon Culver: She must have taken the back way.

Henry Wences: Eh?

Simon Culver: She just ran out. Didn't say anything to her. Just talking about this girl. [He hands Wences the photograph]

Henry Wences: This girl! This the girl you're using on that badger job?

Simon Culver: That's right.

Henry Wences: Why the hell didn't you show me?

Simon Culver: Why the hell should I? I found her.

Henry Wences: You found big trouble, too. Now, we better find Ann, and fast.

Ann Seaford: Doyle?

Alan Reeves: I beg your pardon?

Ann Seaford: Doyle! Ray Doyle. Is he here?

Alan Reeves: Ray Doyle?

Ann Seaford: Yes.

Alan Reeves: Moved away from here, what, three years ago, at least.

Ann Seaford: Moved!

Alan Reeves: Yeah. Across the river. Chelsea. Went up in the world.

Ann Seaford: Do you know where he is?

Alan Reeves: No. I think I've got his phone number somewhere. Hang on.

Bodie: Nice speech the old man made, eh.

Doyle: A filibuster.

Bodie: Do you think he's noticed we've slipped away? Nearly four hours ago.

Doyle: He's probably still talking. [The phone rings. Bodie puts a pillow over it] That could be important.

Bodie: We are off duty.

Doyle: You're right. You're absolutely right. Definitely. On the other hand — you could be wrong. [answering phone] Hello. Who? Reeves? Reeves who? Yeah, yes, yes, now I remember. Look, do you know what the time is? What?

Alan Reeves: [on phone] Well, she seemed disturbed. She asked for you. I told her you'd moved away, and went to get your number, but she'd run off.

Doyle: [on phone] Run off? What do you mean, run off?

Alan Reeves: [on phone] Well, that's why I thought I ought to call you, Mr Doyle. You see, there were these men —

Doyle: [on phone] Men? What men?

Alan Reeves: [on phone] Maybe they were in a hurry, or perhaps I imagined it, but there were two men, in a big American car, and they looked as if they were chasing her.

Doyle: [on phone] Yeah, hang on a minute. Did you get a name? What did she look like? And she just asked for me, eh? No, no, that's fine. No, that's all right. Thanks for calling. Yeah, ciao. [He hangs up]

Girl: Ray? Ray!

Bodie: Ohh. [to Girl] Look, make us a cup of coffee, will you, darling? Come on. [The two girls leave the room] So, what happened to the party spirit, then?

Doyle: Woman just turned up at a place I used to live. Looking for me. Very upset.

Bodie: And ever so slightly pregnant?

Doyle: But when I was with the Drug Squad — [Bodie mimes falling asleep and snores] Listen. About a dozen people knew where I lived. And they all had strict instructions never to use that address unless it was very, very important.

Bodie: Ray, that's got to be at least three years ago.

Doyle: Someone was chasing her.

Bodie: Okay.

Doyle: Okay, what?

Bodie: Let's go and check it out. That's what you want, isn't it?

Doyle: Well... What about the girls?

Bodie: Leave it to me.

Alan Reeves: Tall, very beautiful, about thirty, thirty five.

Doyle: Anything else?

Alan Reeves: Well, she's got a very sexy voice. Low. Oh, yes, and she was wearing a fur coat, looked like a real one, mink.

Bodie: What about the men who were chasing her?

Alan Reeves: I didn't say they were chasing her; I said I thought they might be chasing her.

Doyle: Did you see their faces?

Alan Reeves: No. But I think one of them was black.

Bodie: Big Yank car?

Alan Reeves: Yes. Sort of gold colour. I wouldn't know the make.

Doyle: And they went that way?

Alan Reeves: Towards the river, yeah.

Doyle: Thanks, anyway. [They walk along in the direction Ann Seaford headed]

Bodie: Okay, so where does this go to?

Doyle: Chiswick.

Bodie: That's miles away! Look, she's been gone an hour. Now, look, Ray. You've gone through the motions, now just forget it, right? All right, we'll go to Chiswick. Nice sunny day. Love to see it glinting on those polluted waters. Hmm? So, who do you think it is, Sherlock?

Doyle: That stuff about the voice.

Bodie: Yeah?

Doyle: I think it's somebody I used to know, Ann Seaford. Mind you, that description could be anybody, couldn't it?

Bodie: Yep.

Doyle: Ah, let's go and get some coffee.

Bodie: Ray. [Bodie is looking over the river when he spots Seaford's naked body lying at the edge]

Bodie: Suicide.

Doyle: Yeah? Why haven't we found the mink? What happened to the fur coat?

Bodie: She could have just dropped the coat when she jumped. Some joker happens along, picks it up. Simple.

Doyle: Yeah, what about the guys chasing her, then?

Bodie: Well, what about them? If they were chasing her.

Doyle: Look, a big flash car driven by a black guy, add them together and what have you got, eh?

Bodie: A black guy driving a flash car.

Doyle: It adds up to a high-class pimp for a high-class hooker. And that's what Ann Seaford was.

Bodie: Oh, dear, Doyle. What a full and formative life you had, eh? Pimps and high-class hookers. Wow.

Doyle: That's the basis of police work, that is.

Bodie: No!

Doyle: Yeah, contacts.

Bodie: What, information?

Doyle: Yeah, yeah yeah.

Bodie: Wow.

Doyle: See, I was enjoying myself while you were in the army.

Bodie: Yeah, very nice [Seaford's house]. Who did she hook, Croesus?

Doyle: If he was a man, you can bet on it. [He rings the bell] Security lock. [He climbs onto the sill of a front window]

Bodie: Ray, it's just a suicide. Not even anything to do with us. Cowley would eat you alive.

Doyle: Yeah. [He puts his foot through the window. Alarms ring and Bodie winces]

[Sara is swimming in the pool while Baker and Culver sit at a table]

Sam Baker: It's a great pity.

Simon Culver: Yes, Ann was something special. A real investment.

Sam Baker: I mean that you allowed her to see Sara's photo there. Foolishly allowed it.

Simon Culver: I didn't know. It wasn't my fault.

Sam Baker: Fortuitously, then? Would you say it was fortuitous?

Simon Culver: Well, no.

Sam Baker: Foolishly, then, and I was right the first time. However, from what you tell me, you handled it well enough.

Simon Culver: Oh, yes. A genuine suicide.

Sam Baker: Hardly that. A fake suicide. But it'll do. Call me later.

Simon Culver: Right.

[Sara gets out of the pool as Culver leaves]

Sara: Sam. [to Culver] Bye. [to Baker] Sam.

Sam Baker: Uncle Sam, if you please.

Sara: Uncle Sam. Do I get my prize now?

Sam Baker: Prizes have to be won, my dear. Prizes have to be earned.

Superintendent Tilson: Mr Cowley. Detective Superintendent Tilson, Sir.

Cowley: Ah, yes. It was you who called me.

Superintendent Tilson: Yeah, well, I felt I had to, Sir. Those two boys of yours, they're running roughshod over my men. Now, this is a common suicide, possibly murder. But right outside CI5's jurisdiction.

Cowley: Nothing is outside our jurisdiction, Superintendent. [They enter the house, Bodie and Doyle are in the living room going through papers with a policeman helping] Doyle! Bodie! [to Policeman] Wait outside. [The policeman leaves] Now. As far as I can make out, a call girl drowned herself.

Doyle: This is personal, Sir.

Cowley: Nothing is personal, Doyle. When you joined CI5, I made that perfectly clear. The department owns you — I own you! I can sell your body to science if I want — while it's still alive.

Bodie: We are off duty, Sir.

Cowley: You are never off duty. That is one thing we do share with the police, and the only thing. Now I find you sharing a common suicide with them.

Doyle: I knew her.

Cowley: That's no answer. You're CI5, both of you. CI5 means special assignments only.

Doyle: With authority to investigate any and every incident. That's in the small print, Sir.

Cowley: Don't you quote the small print at me. For every sentence of small print you produce, I can produce smaller. This is a police matter; leave it to the police. Personal or not, we don't pay you what we pay you to get mixed up in sordid little sui — [He breaks off as he reads a notepad lying on the mantel] Tilson!

Superintendent Tilson: Yes, Sir?

Cowley: I want this apartment sealed off. This is now a CI5 case. We'll send in our own forensics men.

Superintendent Tilson: But, uh —

Cowley: Don't but me! Do you want to see the small print in our authority?

Superintendent Tilson: No, Sir. [He leaves]

Cowley: This phone number. [He shows the notepad to Bodie and Doyle] Do you recognise it?

Bodie: Nope.

Doyle: No.

Cowley: I'd be alarmed if you did. It's the Prime Minister's private line.

Bodie: Well, why not? He is a man. [to Doyle] He's a good-looking one, isn't he?

Cowley: No, it's out of the question. Tell him why, Doyle.

Doyle: Pleasure. Well, he's one man who can't make any kind of move without somebody noticing — police, Special Branch, security. So, if he had been seeing Ann Seaford, we'd know about it, wouldn't we?

Cowley: So, it must be someone else; someone who knows his private number.

Bodie: Can't be many.

Cowley: Oh, every Cabinet Minister, for a start. Oh, my god.

Doyle: I reckon she was murdered.

[Cowley pours himself a drink and offers the bottle of whisky]

Cowley: Help yourself.

Bodie: Thank you, Sir.

Cowley: Well, go on.

Doyle: Well, she was a very nice girl. [Bodie laughs] Hookers are women, you know. They can be nice.

Bodie: Yeah. Have a heart of gold, did she?

Doyle: No, but she did have a sort of code.

Bodie: Oh, yeah, so long as you pay.

Doyle: That's right. But if it came to something really bad, she was straight as a die.

Cowley: Like what?

Doyle: Like girls under age. That's how I met her. She helped me to find this fourteen-year-old girl on the run. She just wasn't the suicide sort.

Cowley: Was there a pimp?

Doyle: No; no, no, no. Not three years ago, anyway.

Cowley: Three years are like thirty in that trade.

Doyle: Yes, yes, I know, average three tricks a day, that's two thousand men, not counting the trade fairs.

Bodie: Yeah, well, I suppose she does need a pimp by now. I mean, someone to lean on, you know. Security.

Doyle: Don't push your luck, Bodie.

Cowley: If he exists, that pimp, I want him.

Sara: To us.

Sir Charles Milvern: Serendipity.

Sara: Seren-what?

Sir Charles Milvern: A happy accident.

Sara: Do you know what I usually do now? After a swim, when my body's still tingling and alive? I usually go and lie down on the bed. I'm a creature of habit.

Sir Charles Milvern: Some habits are good. Shouldn't be broken.

Sam Baker: [on radio] Culver?

Simon Culver: [on radio] Yes?

Sam Baker: [on radio] They're on their way up.

Simon Culver: [on radio] I'm ready. [Armed with a camera, he is hiding in a cupboard of the room Sir Charles and Sara have entered]

Bodie: Scented cigarettes? You don't even smoke.

Doyle: We have to find a pimp, right?

Bodie: Yeah.

Doyle: Know thy subject.

Bodie: Right, where we going now, Batman?

Doyle: We are going dancing.

Bodie: Dancing? In the afternoon? [Doyle touches his nose] Know thy subject, right.

Paula: Doyle.

Doyle: What's this? [He picks up a magnum of champagne sitting on the table] Manna from heaven? Or is it still ginger ale?

Paula: Is this a bust?

Doyle: Nope. It's present time. [He gives her the cigarettes]

Paula: Ray Doyle, you're a treasure. You're an unmitigated lousy slimy crummy bastard, but you're a treasure, too. [to Bodie] Hello. These won't buy my body, you know. [to Doyle] I like your friend. Has he taken a vow of silence?

Doyle: He listens. And observes.

Paula: He doesn't look like a voyeur. [to Bodie] I'm very expensive.

Bodie: Oh, I know, I can tell... by the Oliver Messel suite. [The Oliver Messel is a suite at the Dorchester Hotel in London]

Paula: He should have taken the vow.

Doyle: I need a favour, Paula.

Paula: Get lost.

Doyle: You owe me a favour.

Paula: Information?

Doyle: Yeah!

Paula: What is it worth?

Doyle: The favour you owe me!

Big Man: Having trouble here?

Bodie: Uh uh. No trouble at all, thanks.

Big Man: I've got a bottle of champagne invested in her.

Doyle: Yeah, well, we'll be finished in a minute.

Bodie: You heard what he said. Push off.

Big Man: Champagne. Magnum! [The customer grabs Bodie and pushes him against the bar. Bodie hits him with one hand while holding a beer in the other] Right. You, first. You. [He swings at Doyle, then Bodie again, and finally passes out after Bodie shoves him and tips his beer over his head]

Bouncer: Come on, you lot, clear out of here!

Doyle: Ann Seaford.

Paula: He didn't even pay for the champagne! Ann Seaford? Don't you read the newspapers? She's dead. She took a jump into the Thames and did deep-breathing exercises —

Doyle: Well, maybe she didn't jump.

Paula: Well, maybe she didn't. Anyway, she was out of my class: ritzy car, own flat.

Doyle: Own pimp?

Paula: Maybe.

Doyle: Name.

Paula: I don't know.

Doyle: Paula!

Paula: I don't know. Pimps don't advertise. Anyway, whoever he is, he runs a very fine stable.

Doyle: So, give me the name of another runner.

Paula: All right, Doyle. Try Joanna.

Doyle: What's her number?

Paula: 262 9138.

Bodie: Was this absolutely necessary?

Doyle: What's a pimp?

Bodie: The lowest form of life.

Doyle: Yeah. Also a protector. His girls are valuable merchandise. Anything happens to one of his girls, the pimp comes running. [He holds out his hand for coins] Here. Come on!

Bodie: Costing me a fortune.

Doyle: [on payphone] Hello, Joanna?

Joanna: [on phone] Well, hello there. And who's this? Yes, yes, I'm free. Say, in about an hour from now? Of course. I'll give you the address.

Bodie: [on payphone] Well, hi there. [Doyle pushes him away]

Doyle: [on payphone] Yeah. The mews, yeah, got it. Yeah, I'll be there within the hour.

Joanna: [on phone] I'll be waiting. And just one thing. Who recommended you?

Doyle: [on payphone] Ah, well, it was a girl called Ann. Ann Seaford.

Joanna: [on phone] Okay. Bye.

Henry Wences: You in business?

Joanna: Yup. 3:30.

Henry Wences: Someone we know?

Joanna: No, but okay. He knew Ann.

Henry Wences: Ann Seaford?

Joanna: Yeah. Poor Ann.

Henry Wences: I'll be in the next room.

Joanna: You're staying! I thought you were going to the Club.

Henry Wences: What, and leave you all alone?

Sir Charles Milvern: What about a swim? One a day. [They enter the living room where Baker, Culver and Terkoff are waiting]

Sam Baker: Sir Charles Milvern?

Sir Charles Milvern: Yes?

Sara: Sorry, Charley. [She leaves with Culver]

Sam Baker: Sir Charles, you have been taking a great interest in Sara. We, in turn, have been taking a great interest in you. [He starts a projector, a film of Sir Charles and Sara begins]

Joanna: Oh, damn. He's early.

Henry Wences: Put on your pretty smile. A pretty smile is money in the bank.

[Joanna lets Doyle in]

Doyle: Joanna?

Joanna: Yes, hello.

Doyle: Up here, is it?

Joanna: Uh hmm.

Doyle: You're, uh, not quite as pretty as I thought you were going to be.

Joanna: Oh?

Doyle: That's all right because Ann — [He trips on the top step] All right because Ann says you're absolutely fantastic.

Joanna: Good. In there.

Doyle: Oh, it's nice.

Joanna: It's fifty quid.

Doyle: Yeah, great. How about a little drink?

Joanna: For half an hour.

Doyle: Sure. [He pours himself a drink]

Joanna: Fifty one.

Sara: Wences will have stuff. Won't he? Simon!

Simon Culver: Yes, Wences always has stuff.

Joanna: Are you sure you can afford me?

Doyle: Afford you? Here you are. All the credit you want, take your pick.

Joanna: Don't be funny. It's cash, or out you go.

Doyle: Cash for what? I like to see what I'm buying, so get 'em off.

Joanna: Look, you've been here ten minutes already. Time is money.

Doyle: Give stamps as well?

Sara: What's going to happen to Charley? I need it, Simon. I need it now!

Doyle: Listen, I'll tell you truth, love. I don't fancy you. Now, drink, terrific, but you — D'you give stamps? Well, I'm not going to pay you, so what're you going to do?

[Wences emerges from the other room and grabs Doyle around the neck]

Henry Wences: Take it out of your hide. And when your hide's all used up, I'm going to take it out of your pockets.

Doyle: Okay. All right.

Henry Wences: I'm throwing you out — eventually. [He swings at Doyle, who subdues him]

Doyle: [to Joanna] I lied. You're pretty, and your drink's lousy.

Sam Baker: Inventive. And, physically, very impressive. But I think we can agree, Sir Charles, not pretty. Not the sort of stuff that votes are made of. Would you like a drink?

Sir Charles Milvern: What do you want? How much?

Sam Baker: Well, it's difficult to measure, Sir Charles. The total destruction of a fine political career, a shattered marriage, and the laughter. Yes, that's the worst of it all, the laughter and the disdain. Difficult to measure in terms of money, so let's not bother with it. Let's just say a service rendered. You're in a privileged position, Sir Charles, and we would like to share that privilege.

Sir Charles Milvern: Share it?

KGB Agent Terkoff: There is a file that shows the economic and industrial disposition of Europe in the event of war. We know it exists. We also know it has a high security classification. We know, that a shadow minister, you have access to it.

Simon Culver: You know I don't carry stuff in the car.

Sara: And you know I need my stuff. Simon, you promised.

Simon Culver: When we get back to my place.

Sara: I need it now!

Simon Culver: Later. We've got to see Baker first.

Sara: Uncle Sam? Uncle Sam has stuff. Lots of it.

Betty: Everything we got from Ann Seaford's flat. Papers, letters.

Cowley: Addresses?

Betty: Oh, addresses, and phone numbers. More than a thousand of them. We've got a team checking them out now. It's going to take a lot of time.

Cowley: Is that all?

Betty: Oh, yes, there's this. [She opens a file folder filled with photos of a girl]

Cowley: A child. Growing into a woman.

Betty: They were hidden away, in a special place. With this.

Cowley: A baby's hair.

Betty: I think so.

Cowley: Have you checked?

Betty: There's this letter to Ann Seaford, dated eighteen years ago: Dear Miss Seaford, You must understand it would be quite impossible for you to see your daughter at any time. We are now her legal parents. She is our child now. [Cowley takes the letter from her]

Cowley: You will appreciate that in view of your lifestyle, there can be no question of you ever meeting your daughter. However, we are quite willing to send you photographs of her from time to time. By the way, we've decided to call her Sara.

Bodie: Henry Aloysius Wences. Sit down.

Henry Wences: This isn't a regular bust. You're not coppers.

Cowley: No, we're worse. Much worse. Sit down, Mr Wences. Please. Now, tell me about Ann Seaford.

Henry Wences: Ann Who?

Cowley: I'm particularly interested in her clientele, you see.

Henry Wences: I've never heard of an Ann Seaford.

Cowley: You would know all about them, of course, in your capacity as her... technical advisor? Shall we call it that, eh? Sounds much better, don't you think?

Henry Wences: I know my rights. I've been busted before.

Doyle: Now you've been busted again.

Cowley: Ann Seaford.

Henry Wences: To hold me, you've got to charge me — and with what? Something to do with some Ann Seaford. Well, I told you, I don't know her. And you've got to prove different! You can't make out any link between me and —

Cowley: Yes, Mr Wences. Know this girl, do you? [Showing Wences a photo of Sara]

Henry Wences: No. No!

Cowley: Oh, yes, you do. In fact, I'm sure you do!

Bodie: Well, if he doesn't, I certainly do. Saw her not less than half an hour ago, in a car. [to Wences] Right outside your place.

Cowley: Now, isn't that a coincidence, Mr Wences?

Henry Wences: I want a lawyer. I'm saying nothing until I've seen a lawyer!

Cowley: Saying nothing? Oh, dear. That would be most unhelpful, wouldn't it?

Henry Wences: This is illegal! You've got to charge me. This is illegal!

Bodie: I'll tell you one thing. It's not gonna be fun.

Doyle: Sir, who is she? That girl?

Cowley: Ann Seaford's daughter.

Doyle: Her daughter!

Sam Baker: Well, you'll get your file.

KGB Agent Terkoff: The file? I read the entire contents of it three months ago in Moscow. It is not the file we want. It is him — for the rest of his natural life. The very moment he commits that act of betrayal, he belongs to us. A respected politician, who will one day figure in the Government, in our pocket.

Sam Baker: Vashe zdorovye.

KGB Agent Terkoff: Vashe zdorovye. [They toss their empty glasses into the fireplace]

Sam Baker: Hello, Culver.

Simon Culver: Wences has been arrested. I don't know why! He's in that kind of business. Wences gets busted.

KGB Agent Terkoff: You should have known; you were responsible. I told you, you've got to watch him. But we don't know why!

Simon Culver: What's it matter? He won't talk.

Sam Baker: What if he does? What can he tell them? He doesn't know any details. He doesn't even know that you or I exist.

KGB Agent Terkoff: He could lead them to him. [Indicating Culver]

Simon Culver: Where does that get them?

KGB Agent Terkoff: One step closer to us.

Simon Culver: That's ridiculous. You don't think I would talk, do you? You can't honestly think that I'd — I'm in this up to my neck! I killed Ann for you. And Sara? Who found her?

KGB Agent Terkoff: Yes, where is the girl?

Simon Culver: She's outside waiting in the car.

KGB Agent Terkoff: We are very grateful to you, Mr Culver. We now have Sir Charles Milvern in our pocket. Our own man inside the Establishment. And the greatest advantage of all is that no one knows he exists.

Sam Baker: Except Sara — and you.

[Terkoff kills Culver. Sara who is rummaging about in Baker's room for cocaine overhears the noise]

KGB Agent Terkoff: I'll send the squad to clean up here.

Sam Baker: Is he dead?

KGB Agent Terkoff: Of course. And now we have to kill the girl. [Sara climbs out the window, but makes a noise as she goes] The car! [Sara drives away, Terkoff aims his gun]

Sam Baker: No! Not here.

KGB Agent Terkoff: What was she looking for?

Sam Baker: Coke. Cocaine.

KGB Agent Terkoff: Did she find it?

Sam Baker: No, after the job was done, I disposed of it all.

KGB Agent Terkoff: She didn't find it, so she still needs it. Where? She knows no one in the city. Where will she go? Culver's place.

Bodie: The pimp talked.

Cowley: And?

Doyle: Simon Culver. Procurer of girls. And anything else you happen to fancy.

Bodie: Like setting up a badger job.

Cowley: Blackmail.

Bodie: Yeah.

Cowley: Come on.

Doyle: That's the place. [Culver's flat]

Bodie: That's the car I saw earlier.

Cowley: All right, check it. No, wait. [He sees KGB Agent Terkoff and Sam Baker] My god, move. Move! [They run after the men, Terkoff fires at them in the stairwell] You're dealing with pros. I know the fat one: Terkoff, KGB.

Doyle: Terkoff! [Terkoff turns and fires, hitting Doyle. Doyle falls, but returns fire and hits Terkoff. Bodie arrives at a run and shoots Terkoff several times]

Bodie: Ray? You all right?

Doyle: Yeah! Get the girl!

[Cowley arrives in a car and looks at Terkoff's body as Bodie goes to Sara]

Bodie: [to Sara] It's all right. Here we go.

Cowley: Terkoff. He was a good man.

Bodie: Yeah? Well, there's a better man back there.

Cowley: Doyle! Are you all right? [Cowley kneels besides Doyle, who is clutching his left thigh] All right, boy. All right.

Doyle: At least I haven't got your problem — it's gone right through. [He passes out]

Sir Charles Milvern: Mr Cowley? CI5, isn't it? What can I do for you?

Cowley: I have an urgent document requiring your signature, Sir Charles.

Sir Charles Milvern: What kind of a document? [Cowley hands him a document] Is this some kind of joke? If so, it's in very bad taste.

Cowley: Then I'm to blame. I drafted it myself.

Sir Charles Milvern: What's the meaning of it?

Cowley: Oh, I thought it perfectly clear. Ill health is forcing you to retire from all public life — permanently.

Sir Charles Milvern: Ill health? What the devil do you mean?

Cowley: Ah, the devil. Yes, I think the devil had something to do with it. [He holds out the photo of Sara] You'll notice that the document has been endorsed by both the Prime Minister and your own party leader. Your retirement is official, Sir Charles. I hope you'll enjoy it. I'm very sorry. [Sir Charles Milvern signs the document]

[Doyle, on crutches, places flowers on Ann Seaford's grave before joining Bodie]

Bodie: Be a big plus with the girls, that, you know. The sticks. Yeah, you can fabricate a bit, invent some story. Say you got it ski jumping or something. Or you could pretend you got it doing something really dangerous.