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- The premonition is back.
It's a big black car.
I've never seen a car like this before.
I'm sitting next to you in it.
We're in the back, and it's got no roof.
It's going really slowly.
Everyone is cheering for us.
We're really popular and liked.
I think we might be married,
but I don't know where the children are.
And I hear this noise.
It's like.
And your head explodes all over me.
And you're dead.
Instantly your head is in my breast and I'm cradling you.
And all of my guilt, all of my pains, all my wrongs,
they just don't matter anymore.
Because what's just happened is so massive.
It changes the world.
- Mrs. Marston, BBC News Corporation.
What brings you to Bermondsey?
- Oh, I could ask you the same question.
Luckily, I'm used to having these things
pointed in my face at all hours.
I'm actually trying to locate my husband.
The television news team is on the street, a coincidence.
- An elusive man, your husband.
Any comment on the reshuffle and his return to politics?
- Oh, I generally try to stay
out of politics, but I do believe he's planning on
writing a book before his return to Westminster.
- What about his good relations
with America?
Would he not be an ideal foreign secretary?
- Oh, you'll have to ask him that question.
- Dear Mr. Pope,
I have risked my life to follow you
out of my turmoil in the orphanage.
I hope on the outside I can recover.
Perhaps this is the letter that will finally reach you.
If it does, please conceal it until you know the truth.
I once wrote to you daily,
but saw all of my letters stolen by the other nuns.
All my previous confessions, harrowing as they are,
used against me in abuse and mocking.
Having watched this drop into the postbox myself,
I hope this is the letter that saves me.
That is sin, Mr. Pope.
That is my shame.
Look for those words on a confession,
and you'll know it came from my hand first.
Because of you, I now consider myself to have
broken my vows and betrayed my faith,
but the Church knows none of this.
Sister Priscille is a murderer.
Even Father Britten who has arranged our secret meetings
and is himself guilty of his own crimes realises this.
He was with myself and Sister Francis as the orphanage
awoke to the thud of a child
falling from the window.
The tragedy was passed off as an accident,
but Sister Mary knew otherwise.
The boy was already dead in his bed,
bled to death by tiny cuts
long before he was pushed into the courtyard
in an attempt to conceal her wickedness.
You are my saviour, Mr. Pope.
Sister Andrea.
Oh my God.
I am heartily sorry for having offended thee.
And I detest all my sins
because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell.
But most of all because they offending thee, my God,
who are all good and deserving of all my love.
I firmly resolve with the help of thy grace
to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life.
Amen.
- I said too much on the television, didn't I?
They asked me the questions!
Did it go in the papers, as well?
He's been a bad boy, hasn't he?
- I'm sure I could find you some money.
Or I can just get out of the way, how about that?
I've got a sister in Liverpool and a friend in Cornwall.
Well?
Nice and far away.
Never to appear back this way again.
I know what you did to Trevor.
I'm not stupid!
But that boy didn't do three months inside
to go up to Scotland, to be run over by a car, did he?
Good little paper boy, he was.
Never missed a day, until Max got him.
I know my boy is dangerous, but I didn't raise him, did I?
Never expected to see him again.
I mean, I won't see him again at all,
if that's the way it needs to be.
I'm sure you'll find a way to keep in touch, won't you?
Mrs. Norris can probably take over from me.
- Hello?
- Did he call here?
- My brother went missing.
He went to jail convicted of robbing a politician
in a bedroom.
When they released him, he disappeared.
He used to deliver papers to Mrs. Marston.
It was the lodger that he robbed.
I've seen that lodger here.
- Bloody Home, he sold me down the line.
I was far more in with the Yanks than he was,
but look at him now.
Best friends with Kennedy,
and now he's bloody Prime Minister.
Me?
I'm bloody out of a job.
It all comes down to what my Marston used to say.
- Be Mark in the town and Max in the country, dear.
- "Be Mark in town, Max in the country, dear."
- You can be whatever you want,
but if they get a whiff of you liking men,
you'll be out of that door in a second.
- "You can be whatever you want,
"but if they all get a whiff of you liking men,
"you'll be out that door in a second."
- On the public scrap heap, faster than you can mince, dear.
- "On the public scrap heap faster than you can mince."
Oh, Mrs. Marston, stop it.
It was one time, I should never have told.
- But it wasn't just the one time, was it, Max?
- "Oh, but it wasn't just the one time, was it, Max?"
- Max, stop procrastinating.
I'm here for the rent.
25 quid, please.
- Extortion.
- Value, Mr. Brockton.
- Extortion, Mr. Pope.
- Don't get smart.
Are you married?
- Of course I'm married.
- Married, but with the preference of company.
- Yes, married with the preference of company,
as you put it.
This place should be cleaned a bit more for what I'm paying.
- Have you ever had any trouble in the past few months?
- No, not a pinch.
- You had trouble though, didn't you?
Cheap rent, but she wondered what all the banging was,
didn't she?
- Oh, it was such a violent crime.
- The crucifix fell off the wall, didn't it?
- He thumped him so much up there,
the crucifix fell off the wall.
- Made her spill her tea.
Very religious old dear, wasn't she?
But you, you got carried away, didn't you?
Gave her the fright of her life.
And then when she saw poor little Trevor
staggering down the stairs.
With a crisp handful of banknotes.
Oh, Max, Max Brockton, former MP, "robbed" in daylight.
- Poor old Max.
- Jesus, Max.
Me, getting that boy arrested too.
Honestly, that is one of the most shameful things
I've done, to anyone.
- When I think Trevor was my paper boy for three years.
- I got carried away with the lad.
- Trevor Maude got three months.
- I shouldn't have let that happen.
- It's been discussed.
Trevor got out about three weeks ago.
I moved him up to Scotland.
Edinburgh even, nice place,
but he's gonna need a bit of protection.
I mean, down here, you'll just make him another Sammy.
- Sammy Steele?
- Yes.
Sammy Steele.
- Hmm, I thought he was dead.
- He is.
You and your Westminster cronies put him under.
The drugs, the pills, the booze.
People aren't playthings, Max.
But to you, you with your money and your titles,
sometimes I honestly think you are immune to normality.
You know, if it wasn't for Trevor's parents,
you could have got away with that one, again.
But I know them, so they take precedence.
You do realise your bill's a little more
than 25 quid though, don't you?
- Straight to the solicitors in the morning, then.
You know, there's a little bolt hole on Park Lane
that no one wants to be associated with anymore.
Something happened there, but still an all right place.
I'll get that signed over.
How about that?
Will that shut you up?
- That'll do the trick.
You want to send some funds to Trevor?
- Solicitors tomorrow, whenever you think.
- Well, whilst you're pissing away the family fortune,
buggering everything in sight,
what about the family of Mrs. Marston?
- I moved out, didn't I?
- That woman's spread gossip
faster than the clap in barracks.
Lucky I got to her.
She was on her way to the Women's Institute.
Can you imagine, Max?
- Someone said--
- He was a homosexual!
He was Faggington Faggot from Fag Street!
I get it, Mr. Pope.
Everyone would've known.
Millie would have been in a terrible state.
- Your wife is in a terrible state every night, Max.
- What are you saying?
- She knows.
She's your biggest cause of concern.
I mean, as soon as the queue of men
go back to work on Monday morning,
she remembers who she's married to.
- She's not that bad.
- She is that bad, Max.
She's a drunk.
She needs a bit of control behind her.
You do know I've got a list of your crimes and misdemeanours?
- So what?
- Well, I'm afraid the price of protection has gone up son.
If Home hadn't snubbed me, I would have been in the cabinet.
- Well, don't be a bumboy all your life, aye?
- I'm glad you've got faith in me.
- Take stock of life, will ya?
And that Trevor thing,
that Trevor thing was the absolute last resort.
- Wait.
Oh, bloody hell, he's not in Edinburgh at all, is he?
Where is he?
- For now let's just called it a road traffic accident.
- You didn't have to kill him as well, did you?
- Look, you actually want this career in politics.
It comes at a price.
And that's three people in the past year that we've
dealt with protecting your indiscretions.
You oughta be careful boy.
Else your career is going to be short-lived.
- It won't happen again.
- Sister Cecilia.
Max and I need to have a more private conversation.
Will you oblige?
Sister Cecilia.
She's a systematic abuser of children.
- Well, what do you mean
she's a systematic abuser of children?
She's a nun, they're all tyrants.
That's what happens with power and no intelligence.
- Ethics, compassion.
- Ethics?
Oh, that's why I like you, Mr. Pope.
It's all compassion, humanity, balance and ethics with you.
And then you and your gang go and quietly
murder a few people for me.
Oh, you hate this, don't you?
Sorting out the mistakes of privileged idiots like me
who treat the plebs for what they are.
And I don't want to be a politician really.
I want to be in that bar in Soho pissing it up all day
with some fairy.
Wait, systematic abuser of children?
New term, I suppose.
Are the police getting serious?
- She's a complicated one.
I can tell you that.
- Oh, I know, I've seen her.
I am in the room next to her.
I don't know what she doesn't do to herself in there,
but she seems to enjoy it.
- I have to pay rent on this room, you know.
I can't live in the convent and go to the school with you.
You're not going to tell anyone, are you?
Are you?
You know what I can do for you, don't you?
What did you make me do?
Why couldn't you just like me for who I am?
I didn't want to do this!
I wanted to be important to you, but now...
Oh, it's all over, isn't it?
Stay there!
Don't move or you'll end up like the rest.
It's your word against mine.
It is your word against mine.
Look at me.
Who wouldn't want this?
Me?
Marble skin, flawless.
Blemish free.
Perfection.
You didn't want this, did you?
So, you can stay there until I tell you to come out.
Don't let me get Father Britten.
You know what he'll do to you, don't you?
You see, with you and me the power is with you over me.
The sisters, they want me to go back to Paris.
They tracked me down.
Father Peter found this place, but.
They don't know about you.
I'll get you something more later.
I'll look after you better.
I've got to answer that phone.
- She's no different to you by the sounds of things.
- Sounds like you've had her once
and you've got a thing for her.
- It's one of the wrong kinds of love.
It's in a book you might have read.
- Ah, I know this.
We've had this discussion before.
I do love it when you start using your brain.
And so what is it then?
Psychopathia Sexualis by R. Von Krafft-Ebing?
Placed next to Marquis de Sade, 120 Days of Sodom?
Both rather dirty reads for the unliberated mind,
if I remember?
But that Sexualis book.
Medical textbook - not for the faint of heart.
- It classifies the different types of love.
- Well, briefly, yes.
And of course that means you've reached the section,
which makes you think you're her saviour.
- No, the problem is I am her saviour.
You see the other nuns, they're already rounding on her.
- You're not evicting me then.
You're warning me your leaving, is that right?
- Maybe.
- Well, might be about time.
I've been invited to America, you think I should go?
One thing I did for myself a few months back
was get myself on good terms with their administration.
I mean the odd couple that came over.
Took them out to dinner and all that.
Lots of big accents and handshakes,
but, well, they didn't care what I was up to.
- Oh, you played it straight for the weekend.
Course they didn't care.
- British and straight talking, I made progress.
That was the one thing Home did acknowledge.
I guess we'll have to see who the world blows up next, aye?
- Yeah, well, don't get too cocky.
- I was supposed to be his speech writer.
- Well, I'm sure if the right scenario comes up.
Whitehall will have a car out front for you.
Did you see my note?
Everything seems to be revolving around television now.
I don't want a television set in this house.
- The television people were asking about Mr. Gruber.
- Ah, Mr. Gruber.
- You know Mr. Gruber then?
- Wait.
You're just acting uptight because you're
protecting him two doors down, aren't you?
I knew it.
- Well, I hate to say it but
he'll have it coming to him
When he drops his guard on pint number 11.
- He can put them away, can't he?
I mean, I thought I could, but he is something else.
- You can have as much information as you want
about the nun.
She's propped up by God.
But Mr. Neubert, well, he's a different matter.
He's paid for his status.
So, unless you want to befriend him,
I suggest you simply respect him.
- I have the rent, Mr. Pope.
- How much does he charge you?
- He doesn't.
- Well, then what's in the envelope?
- Names, confessions, details.
- Oh, about what?
- What I did in the war.
What I witnessed.
- War hero?
Mr. Pope, here, that's all he would me about you.
That you're a war hero.
- To my comrades, I was.
- Comrades?
- You don't work for the Russians, do you?
- Mr. Brockton, you are a politician.
Recently unemployed.
You exposing me would be without comparison
to the dangers of me exposing you.
Mr. Pope is always fair.
- All right, now I'm forgetting how this works.
No bloody rent though, honestly.
- Mr. Brockton,
will you please refrain from insulting Mr. Neubert further?
- It's the principal, Mr. Pope.
He's foreign.
I'm English for the past 1000 years.
- Mr. Neubert here is paid in full.
- My apologies, Mr. Neubert.
Indiscretion got the better of me.
- I know it was an abbey.
I know there were prisoners of war.
I know I followed orders but I also know that...
I was a fanatic.
I'm waiting for my past to be revealed.
Everyday more documents are unearthed, remains found,
causes of death slowly deduced.
Historians are digging.
Men like me are quivering
because I'm a murderer.
And I sit here talking with you.
You don't judge me.
And you, a nun.
The hypocrisy comes with what I will tell you next.
The one woman I deliberately killed
without orders
was a nun.
It was some kind of barbaric celebration.
This chaste servant of God.
She could have been you, a treasure.
I shot her in the face
so my comrades would stop raping her.
Why do you listen to me, Sister?
- You're not much older than me.
I also live a life of conflict within these walls.
- But you have the convent, the school.
God.
- I don't have God.
I've served God as a reward, you know what it is to do that?
You go into God's room and set the table.
You go into God's room and put the plate down
without spilling anything.
You walk away and freeze in fear
as God pulls down your underwear
and tells you you have cute little buns.
- You have cute little bu--
- The next time I served God, I threw soup in his lap.
You see, it's not right to do that to a child, is it?
- In a civilised world, no.
- Your world is civil now.
- I work in the library.
It's the education I never had.
I need to be as clever as I was strong.
On paper, I am an Englishman.
I see a woman who works in a department store.
- I don't believe you.
You stay here because your preferences are tolerated.
I'm actually quite scared.
I think I might be beginning to lose my mind.
I don't want our secret to collapse because of me.
So, I might need you to help me.
I'm not sure where the landlord stands with me.
Can I tell you something extra though?
Max in the other room, he's a politician.
He's got dangerous views on war.
- How are they dangerous?
- He wants to campaign the way your party did.
He sympathises with the publicity,
wants to know more about its origins.
- That's not enough of a secret, Sister Cecilia.
- Sister Priscille murdered a child.
It was passed off as a tragic accident.
What else can I offer?
- I don't know anymore.
- Wait, I need to ask you something.
Do you have premonitions?
- Oh dear.
How far have you rejected faith?
- Far enough to know I've seen glimpses of things
before they happen.
I see a man in a library.
Like you.
You're a man in a library.
But this library is tall.
So many floors, such an incredible view.
There's a man in this place, he shouldn't be there.
He's out of place, and he's carrying something that
has no earthly reason to be there.
What is it?
I can't see it, it's obscured from view.
In the war, you used a church as a command post, didn't you?
From the bell tower,
you could see any ground attack for miles,
but it was near impossible to climb with your rifle intact.
So, you had to disassemble it and rebuild it in position.
- Maybe I told you that before.
- No, you haven't told me this.
I've been expecting a call actually.
I've been called back to Paris.
I don't want to go,
but I might be threatened with prison if I don't.
- What have you done?
- Lots of things, but I don't know right from wrong.
I leave you in peace, Mr. Neubert.
- Would you like the truth
or would you like to be kept in the dark?
Trust me, it's easier if you
keep yourself in the dark on this matter.
- I would like the truth please.
- To the right people, Mr. Gruber is a code.
To the wrong people, Mr. Gruber is just another name.
Does that make sense?
- No, it doesn't.
What would the answer to the code be?
- It's a code that we currently give to war criminals
who have assimilated themselves into society.
- Is Robert one of them?
- Yes, he is relatively unique.
And that is why he is afforded protection.
- How can he be unique if he's a war criminal?
- He was a child soldier in the Jungvolk.
He was too young to be held accountable for his actions.
Does that clarify things?
- Well, you've done a good job of distracting me, Mr. Pope.
I want to know about my brother.
- You took a phone call for me earlier, didn't you?
- The person barely said a word.
- Did he call here?
- And then hung up.
- I've got a friend at the Cambridge Evening News.
He was calling about another matter,
but he took a call in his office from an American
at about five past six.
The caller said,
"Call the American embassy for some big news."
Now, that man is a sound and loyal person
with no security record.
He doesn't get calls like that every day.
Do you understand what my business is now?
I'm afraid you won't be seeing any more of Mr. Neubert,
but that one's for the police to deal with.
You see, in here, I've got two nuns
who don't know what day of the week it is.
And I've had the company of Mr. Max Brockton,
who has the benefit of immeasurable wealth.
Your brother was in the process of being found.
He still will be.
- You mean.
- Listen, I've been paid to get you
to the Mission in Paris, under the radar of the police.
It can be done, but I need you to cooperate with me.
- Mr. Pope, you do realise,
I know what you did in the library.
- Wait, you've had this argument
with someone else before, haven't you?
I know where it goes.
Shall I play along?
- I don't know, maybe you should.
Maybe it was real.
You were in the library in the reference section.
- No, you were in the library in the corner,
presenting yourself to those girls.
- How dare you make that accusation?
- And at the sake of a scene,
the disgust of those witnessing it
was pointed in my direction, was it not?
Do you remember when the ice cream truck
broke down?
You chaperoned all the children to queue
as Mr. Whipps handed out all those delicious treats.
Do you remember that?
You had the paddle in that great leather bag, didn't you?
All those children.
I mean, eventually they couldn't eat another ice cream.
And then they were beaten until they were sick.
That's what I remember you for.
That was the first time Father Britten
had come to me for help.
- God was rewarding them, and they spurned his rewards.
- Force-feeding children ice cream they
don't want to eat is cruel
and unusual punishment, Sister Cecilia.
- The Church isn't going to save me, is it?
- No, it's only gonna make you worse.
- I like to be alone, Mr. Pope.
I like to watch people, it doesn't matter where.
I like to imagine.
Listen.
I like to uncover secrets.
I have no secrets.
My secret is you.
I have never yet lain with another man in love.
I've never had my body intruded upon in love
by anyone but you.
Does that mean my child is holier than thou?
Holier than me?
God in his own female vision?
- And where is our daughter, Cecilia?
- In the convent.
Cared for in discretion by the sisters who accepted her
unique conception to be a sign from God.
I'm sure she would delight in hearing your voice, Father.
- You are not protected by the Church
in the way you think you are.
The protection
comes from me.
You beat those children black and blue,
and the ones you like,
you take them upstairs to that room of yours.
And then you collapse in fear.
They hide under the bed as you descend
into some kind of mania.
But I know you.
Your will isn't that of the others.
It isn't in your
desire to impose on them the way the others imposed on you.
- How do you know this?
- What do you think I do?
I don't work for the Church, Sister Cecilia.
The Church is finding me money, yes,
but this work is disturbing me.
Midnight runs to early morning ferries,
train journeys to far away places,
nuns and priests moved from harm's way.
The nuns though, at the moment,
well, they get it easy.
Lenient, they're women.
They're not capable of punishment the way the priests are.
You are.
- Is that going to be the phone call
from the Mission in Paris?
- Worst thing for you this year, eh, technology?
Direct line to Paris.
Who'd have thought it, aye?
Look, I'm doing my best to deflect things for you, okay?
Well, Sister Apollonia, it's been a very long day.
Yes, I understand and acknowledge our prior arrangements.
I will do everything in my power
to look after sister Cecilia.
Yes, as a man who cares for privacy,
I assumed this is a matter to be treated
with a direct approach.
Nobody else need be involved, correct?
She will be with you as quickly as possible.
I will, however, evaluate the situation before progressing,
and due to various combinations
and the necessity of discretion, when on public transport,
you should expect us in the Mission
no earlier than Friday.
I don't care about anything else, all right?
Is that understood?
Seven times.
Seven times in the past two years, did you know that?
You'll be the eighth church member I've
whisked away across The Channel.
These orphanages, they are becoming a disgrace.
- My habits are quite discreet.
But stained habits raise questions.
I've hit the children on 1000 occasions,
but the other things.
I might've done those 1000 times too.
I've never killed a child like Sister Priscille.
- And you run away because you took advantage of so many.
- I've lost my mind, Mr. Pope.
God wins.
- What do you mean God wins?
- I am a skilled predator.
I hunt my prey, I'm a monster,
but he is omniscient, Mr. Pope.
- No, no, no, that is called psychosis, Sister Andrea.
Mind and body are not as one.
How about I give you a second option?
- Instead of Paris?
- Yes, instead of Paris.
Go back home, go into your room,
give all those poor boys money,
and tell them to never, ever come back.
- There aren't any boys in my room.
- I know that, Sister Cecilia.
At the moment, all those boys are simply running around
in your head.
- Saint Cecilia took three blows to the neck
from the axeman's sword and still she survived.
- For three days, Sister Andrea,
and then her house became a church.
Don't let me lose my desire to help you, Cecilia.
- If I martyr myself, you won't.
- Just be thankful there aren't really any dead boys
under the bed in your room.
- Why?
- You would probably hang.
- Are you going to look after me?
Or just take me to the Mission in Paris?
- I don't want to be responsible for you going to Paris.
- I have a compulsion, remember?
- I don't think the Church is your religion anymore.
I don't really think you've got a compulsion.
I think your compulsion is simply the habitual abuse
of power that you've become accustomed to.
You're in denial of the person you actually are.
- I'm a deviant, aren't I?
- No.
At base, we are all far more primal
than we actually realise.
Don't ever let society label you.
- I need a confession.
I need a proper confession.
Sister Priscille taught me, and I never knew why.
Now I've got older, I've learnt things.
I've learnt that there might be something wrong
in my church.
And I've also learnt what might be most sickening.
I am both victim and perpetrator.
They're my normality.
- Sister Andrea, listen.
- Why do you call me Sister Andrea?
- Because the use of Sister Cecilia
is an informal way for the mission to enlist the help
of people like me who specialise in discretion.
We are all part of the same hypocrisy here.
I exist to prevent, protect, allow
and monitor the behaviour of individuals of all persuasions.
It's both a conundrum and a paradox.
It's something that very few people understand,
but when you push the mark,
the telephone calls become more frequent.
The knocks at the door become more sinister.
Meetings become loaded, and I become the subtle authority
who guides you back to the light.
- I like the boys, Mr. Pope.
- We know you like the boys, Sister Cecilia.
It's becoming something of a problem
because the boys like you too.
You stay in that orphanage for another year
and any innocence left inside of you
will disappear into hate faster than Sister Priscille can
run a razor blade over your most intimate parts.
Priscille, she damn near bled some boy to death last year.
Not even my lads do that.
Yes, this is Bermondsey 01-237.
This is the landlord speaking.
No, Mr. Brockton isn't available
to speak to you at the moment.
Can I ask who is calling?
No, I'm afraid a friend isn't good enough.
I need to know your name.
Alec Douglas-Home from Downing Street?
Well.
It's Mr. Pope.
Yes, we might've met once or twice in the
early days, shall we say?
Well, Christ, something must be wrong.
I mean, it's not every day
that the Prime Minister phones this number.
Well, listen, I did speak with Brockton earlier.
You two buried the hatchet?
Well, come on, what's so important?
Why do you need him so urgently?
I thought you sacked him in that partial cabinet reshuffle.
Well, look, I mean, he's a good writer.
I'll give him that, but.
All right, well.
You send the car over, and I'll send someone
to pull him out of the pub, how's that?
All right.
- What's happened?
- Trouble.
Home wouldn't be calling Mr. Brockton if it wasn't.
Sister Andrea, can you do something for me?
- Something normal, you mean.
- Yes, something normal.
Can you run downstairs into the kitchen
and bring up the cakes that I bought in the bakers earlier?
I think we could all deal with a cake, a sweet treat.
And if Mr. Brockton comes running in
he'll probably want something to sober up.
- Is Sister Cecilia getting the buns?
I think I need to sober up, Mr. Pope.
And what's going on?
Home Secretary's just called the pub.
Frank comes over says there's a call for me.
Mary's on the other end of the line
saying nothing will ever be the same again.
Am I getting arrested?
Ah great, cake.
So you see, that's what I'm best at,
eulogies and obituaries.
I mean, I'm not exactly you're whiter
than white politician, am I?
Want to take some cake though.
Help me sober up.
No unnecessary attention to be brought to the property.
I know the rules.
I'll talk with you all when we know what's happened.
Could be talking about it for months.
- Hmm.
Ich bin ein Berliner.
The cake, it's called a Berliner.
- Hi, Wendy, it's Millie.
I've been told to call in.
Oh, I have absolutely no idea what's going on.
We're in the dark.
Tell me, Wendy.
I'm not sure how it works now he's out of government,
but will the car still come and pick us up?
- Do you know what's happening?
- I have no idea.
- You see that other girl just walk out?
- Yes, and why was she here?
- There's a problem with your husband.
- It didn't look like his type.
- Shall I be crude? - No need.
You obviously know my husband.
- Look, we have no idea what is actually going on,
but we know something is going on.
And whatever something this is
means your husband has been called back
into the arms of government.
- And you need me to complete the image.
- Yes, but that's not why you're here.
- Then why am I here?
- Your husband owes money.
Your husband owes a great deal of money.
We need to go to the solicitor in the morning
to take care of certain transactions.
- And you need my signature?
No problem.
And what property is it that'll be buying silence this time?
- It's a notorious little spot on Park Lane.
- I remember it.
Has a music room, I believe.
Lots of parties.
- Lots of scandalous parties.
- So, what has he done?
- Enough for a property like that
to be signed over to someone like me.
- Do I need to know what he's done?
- No.
Don't ever look at the photographs
that are in that envelope.
- Who's he with?
- He isn't.
Who were you with?
They aren't photographs of your husband.
They are photographs of you with your various
liaisons of a dangerous variety.
- Are you trying to blackmail me, Mr. Pope?
- No.
No, I'm not trying to blackmail you.
I'm just giving you one of the many things your husband
has paid me for.
Those being in my possession mean they are not in the
possession of some tabloid hack
looking to drag your name through the mud.
At the moment, your husband is protected by myself,
my crew, and my respective associates.
As soon as he goes back into government, we can't help him.
We've got to peel away.
We can't have the association.
- So, you're tying up loose ends.
- We've silenced people whose opinions didn't match the
public perception of Mr. Marston.
We've also silenced some people your husband
should never have
interfered with.
Are you reading between the lines of the spiral?
- I believe so.
So, what do I need to do?
- I need you to be a good wife to your husband.
- Is that it?
- You had a drink today?
- No.
- Don't lie to me.
I could smell it on your breath
when you come in the front door.
- And what should that matter?
- Who did you wake up next to?
- I don't like your questions.
- All right then.
Like I said,
you just need to be a good wife to your husband.
Stop the one night stands.
Stop the gin.
Stop being a trollop.
We've cleaned your husband's slate.
Your slate is clean too, but I suggest you keep it that way.
- And what if I relapse?
- Arrangements were in place for your husband.
Do you understand what those arrangements were?
- You were going to kill him.
- Don't be silly.
No.
We were simply going to disgrace him.
Your reputation could have been in pieces too.
Something very serious has actually happened.
And at the moment we have no idea what.
- Should I go to church, Mr. Pope?
- Might be good for your image.
Do you like music?
- Yes.
- Well, today is the feast of Saint Cecilia,
patroness of music.
I'm sure there's plenty of church concerts
happening out there this evening.
I suggest you go and find one.
- You are forcing me to be somebody I am not.
I'm not a fan of religion, Mr. Pope.
- It's not about being a fan of anything, dear.
It's about dealing with the fact that you and your husband
could be on the precipice of a scandal.
- I see a plane.
I've never been on a plane, but this is as clear as day.
It's noisy in there.
There are so many important people, Mr. Pope.
Why are there no Bibles in this house?
We need a Bible.
Have I got bloodstains on my habit?
There's a woman in pink.
She's covered in blood.
Her dress is spattered.
All they want is a Bible, Mr. Pope,
but they can't find one, it's too late.
It might just be time to go home.
It wasn't me who needed a Bible.
They've used St. Joseph's Sunday missal.
He's swearing on the prayer book, in God's name.
My vision, Mr. Pope.
- What was the special secret you shared
with Mr. Neubert, Sister Andrea?
- He wanted to be intimate with a woman
for the first time in his life.
- And you fulfilled this role for him?
- We talked, I tried, but I told him
I didn't know what intimacy was.
And I came to realise that
everything I do with these boys is.
- Is what, Sister Cecilia?
- Juvenile in process.
I wrote it down but Sister Priscille stole my letter.
You see, sin speaks louder than words.
- I see.
- That is sin, Mr. Pope.
That is my shame.
- "That is sin, Mr. Pope.
"That is my shame.
"Look for those words on a confession,
"and you'll know it came from my hand first."
- I'm not interested in your complicit personal shame,
Sister Cecilia.
- My name is Priscille.
- In this house,
you're a Sister Cecilia.
It gives you a degree of anonymity.
It gives you protection
far greater than the power of God.
You understand that?
Pack your things.
We leave for Paris in a couple hours.
- Why would we leave for Paris?
- Because my arrangement with the Church dictates.
I have to take someone to the mission.
You haven't yet absconded from the convent, have you?
As ever, they are simply expecting a Sister Cecilia.
If I deliver you, no questions will be asked of me.
You were given the rules of this house, were you not?
- What about Sister Andrea, she is--
- My responsibility,
The convent is still looking for her.
They feel she has probably been
lost to the ways of the street.
I've guided them to that conclusion.
- Sister Andrea is a murderer.
I watched her.
- You, Sister Priscille,
failed to guard a reputation that now precedes you.
Weapon of choice, I hear.
This takes us to Paris without suspicion.
- You're a priest.
- No.
I was a priest, but now I'm whatever you want me to be.
Pack your things.
This is a special report
from the BBC Home Service.
The keynotes of a bulletin from CBS News
that we are now relaying to other news agencies
across the world as we now collate a full report.
In Dallas, Texas, three gunshots
were aimed at President's Kennedy's motorcade
in Downtown Dallas.
Initial reports suggest the President
has been wounded in this shooting.
Witnesses said Mrs. Kennedy stood up,
grabbed Mr. Kennedy screaming, "Oh no,"
as the motorcade accelerated.
United Press have cautioned
that injuries to President Kennedy may be fatal.
So, to recap, there has been an assassination attempt
on President Kennedy in Dallas, Texas.
This is the BBC Home Service relaying a developing story.
President Kennedy has been wounded by gunmen
in his automobile alongside Governor Connally of Texas.
Both have been taken to Parkland Hospital
and we await further development.
38 PM.
This is the BBC Home Service with tragic confirmation
of events that unfolded today in Dallas, Texas.
President Kennedy was pronounced dead
at 1PM Central Standard Time, 2PM Eastern Standard Time.
Around 38 minutes ago.
Vice President Lyndon Johnson has
left the Parkland Hospital in Dallas.
He will take the oath of office shortly
to become the 36th President of the United States.