SS-GB

This is the BBC Home Service.

On orders from the German army,

the curfew will be relaxed from Monday

to celebrate German-Soviet Friendship Week.

In anticipation of the celebrations,

one of the few surviving Spitfires

will be presented to Soviet General Zhukov on The Mall today

by German air ace Helmut Vig.

Vice Marshal Goering commented that Herr Helmut Vig's 58 kills

was a decisive factor in the battle for air supremacy over Britain

that finally brought peace to Europe...

Urgh!

I have to go.

No, no, no, no, don't rush off.

It's the first whole night we've had together in ages.

Believe me, I'd love to stay.

Then let's not go in.

There's that flu going around.

- What, both of us? - A-huh.

I hate that place now.

It's very plush here.

Who else uses these rooms?

A Reichspropagandaleiter.

- What if they come back? - We'll be shot.

He's visiting the South West controlled zone.

Aren't you the clever one!

If I quit, would you still see me?

Of course.

- But don't. - It's all right for you.

- Archer of the Yard, all that power. - Huh!

Don't talk daft, Sylvia.

For God's sake, get away from the window!

Come in.

Don't you like it? It's covering my modesty.

- Doesn't it do the same for you? - Don't be a bloody fool.

Ja?

All right. Have you got the murder bag?

Good.

Harry Woods.

A death above an antique shop, Shepherd Market.

Take that thing off, will you?

Yes, Harry?

Do you get a thrill out of taking stupid risks, huh, Doug?

Not very subtle, what you're doing with Sylvia.

How do you know what we get up to?

I don't know what's got into you.

Then just drive, Harry.

Look, all I'm saying is, not on your own doorstep,

not with your own secretary, for Christ's sake!

In the... Fritz Ritz!

Those Herberts might act as if they like you just now,

but they could turn on you any time.

Mind your own business, Sergeant.

Listen, if you have to have it off,

what about that, er... big-titted German bird

in the Waffen-SS liaison, huh?

No? I heard she puts it about a bit.

I thought you disapproved of consorting with the Germans.

What's the use?

What do the Resistance hope to achieve with this?

He gets strung up

and his family sent to a labour camp.

Defiance.

Nothing wrong with a bit of that.

What if the Russki had been killed instead, huh?

That would've put the dampers on their friendship ceremony, wouldn't it?

Yeah.

I remember I took you around here when it was my beat.

Young and innocent, you were.

Brand-new diploma, not a clue in the world.

You're choking me up, Harry!

No, I'm just saying, when it was my beat, it was nice.

No, it wasn't.

Ah, maybe not. The girls were always friendly.

Well, friendship's not always free around here, is it?

- Hiya, love. - Hello, Sergeant.

What's going on here?

Well, you ought to know, you're working with 'em.

Ought to know what?

The Herberts have decided we need to be examined by their doctors.

Go back in the line!

So it's true, they're turning the whole area

into an official Wehrmacht brothel.

To the victor, the spoils, huh?

You won't be able to come around here any more, Harry.

Yeah, very funny!

Inspector Archer?

Sir, is it true the SS are using the police to chase Resistance fighters?

It's nonsense. We're non-political and we always will be.

- Morning, Denham. - Sir.

- Is that the way to the roof? - Yes, sir.

Morning.

Sorry to disturb, Doc.

Huh!

Fancy some petrol coupons, Harry?

You could get to Timbuktu on this lot.

Looks like our antique dealer had a couple of sidelines.

Remember that gang that murdered the warehouse manager in Fulham?

They were forging Luftwaffe petrol coupons.

Could be the same mob.

Well, Doc?

First bullet in the chest, second one into the top of the lung.

Death probably instantaneous.

Has the pathologist been?

No, he's probably stuck at some roadblock.

That Resistance shooting caused a bit of a stink.

Good teeth.

- There's blood in the mouth. - He probably hit his face when he fell.

What's this?

Cataracts? Was he blind?

I couldn't tell you. They're not like any cataracts I've seen.

Fine clothes.

Not short of money.

Although they could fit better.

Maybe it was an argument with his tailor, huh?

Oooh...!

That's worth a small fortune.

A-hem!

What have you got, Harry?

Eight pounds, three shillings, keys.

Railway ticket, monthly. Return and a half.

From London to Bringle Sands.

Here, Peter Thomas.

ID issued at, er... Kingston Record Office.

Kingston? That's the one the Resistance burned down.

- Yeah. - Convenient. Can't be traced.

Care to hazard a time of death, Doctor?

Er... between six and seven this morning.

Harry, would you bag up these ashes, please?

Yeah. I'll have a word with the neighbours.

Thanks, Doc.

Get your men under control! It's disgusting what you're doing!

Argh!

Do you come here often with Peter Thomas?

I'm Chief Superintendent Douglas Archer.

And you are... Madam?

Miss. I'd rather not be mistaken for a madam.

It's Barbara Barga, New York Times.

Have you been in London long?

I arrived ten days ago on the inaugural Lufthansa flight.

With Goebbels and Goering.

You must be important.

Yet you just walked away from the scene of a crime.

I saw you.

What is the crime?

Well, from the way you disappeared, I thought you'd guessed.

The menu, sir.

Foul play. Isn't that what you call it over here?

You don't seem surprised.

No.

But I hoped it wasn't.

For Peter's sake.

What was it?

Suicide?

He was shot.

Any idea why?

He was what we call a hustler.

Who knows what deals he was into?

And what was your relationship?

He was helping me on a piece about Americans

who chose to stay in London.

A year of occupation, that kind of thing.

Poor old Peter.

I ran out of film yesterday, he said he'd get me a roll.

But I guess everything in the apartment is considered evidence now.

So you walked away to avoid getting involved.

Didn't do me much good.

Well...

that outfit's always going to get you noticed.

I'm not sure all policemen would be so observant.

I guess dealers like him will be rubbing their hands at the thought

of all the new stuff that will come from the fighting in the North.

You are well-informed.

Funny. I'm not hungry any more.

I'll need to see you again.

Where can I reach you?

The Dorchester.

For some reason, I never got invited to the reopening.

Hm. It's not what it was.

Nothing is.

I don't know.

Some things can improve with age.

What is it?

I've been summoned.

In there.

Do you know why?

You tell me.

Danke schoen.

- Hi, Doug. - Harry.

- Sir. - Thank you, Jimmy.

So, what have you been up to?

I'm not entirely sure.

What did you get?

Er... well, according to the neighbours,

Peter Thomas was involved with some Luftwaffe Feldwebel.

Big guy, spectacles.

Probably from the Quartermaster's Depot in Marylebone.

Supplied them with all their goodies for their parties.

You know, drugs, painted ladies.

I'm going to send his description to the Military Police.