DRIPPING
RADIO STATIC
NICK: Philby didn't escape.
I let him go.
Why did I let him go?
Because I'm trained in, shall we say, exigent circumstances,
to consider myself above the law.
You can come in now, Mrs Thomas.
Because all of us at SIS have been raised since the year dot
to believe we belong to a higher order.
A different set of rules.
Tell Sir Roger that.
A higher order?
The aim is to draw Sir Roger out and force him to defend himself,
so tell them I let Philby go
to save SIS from a public trial that would've...
..that would've inflicted more harm on the country than good.
And then wait for them to address the elephant in the room.
It's a nice day. Lovely.
And what if they don't?
They will.
Sir Roger will.
We believe Elliott has found out about Blunt.
You believe or know for certain?
Did you know they had lunch at Elliott's club yesterday?
No, I did not.
SHE CLEARS THROAT
While I'm doing this, what are you gonna be doing?
The time has now come for us to use Jim Angleton to our advantage.
How do you know Elliott found out about Sir Anthony?
How do you not know? SIS must have told him.
SIS have no idea.
The source was Michael Straight, to the Americans,
who passed it on to us at MI5, and us alone, not SIS.
You seem sceptical, Mrs Thomas. Of the Americans?
Unless, of course, it was...
..Philby who told Elliott about Blunt in Beirut.
Possible.
How do you not know that Elliott and Blunt met for lunch yesterday?
I'm a debriefer, sir, not a watcher.
Wasn't it you who suggested we let him off the lead,
I think is the phrase you used, so that we... You could watch him?
Mrs Thomas?
Yes.
He wants to meet in person. Urgent, he said.
DOOR OPENS
Tozhe ona, tozhe ona.
Chto s ney budete delat'? Ey!
Ciao, Poppi.
Nicholas?
I was told this is urgent.
Bad news, I'm afraid. From Moscow.
GUNSHOT
Budet sneg.
In English, please.
Sneg.
Snow.
It's going to snow.
Spasibo.
POURING
BELL CHIMES
Thank you so much for coming all this way. Beyond the call.
So sorry for your loss, Kim. Cicely sends love and condolences.
Keep it.
CHORAL MUSIC
SPEAKS WITH LISP: Let us pray.
CHORAL MUSIC
MUSIC DROWNS OUT SPEECH
KNOCKING
What are you doing here?
You didn't answer the bell so we hopped over the garden railings.
Or more accurately, I hopped. Jim made a bit of a meal of it.
We figured that you might like some company.
Jim's heading back to America in the morning
so we thought we could, you know, make a night of it.
Between us, I'm off to Rome for a few days first.
Lovely service today, don't you think?
Very.
Old Reverend Bob's lisp always did make Mother giggle, though.
"Asheth to asheth, dutht to dutht."
Poor old thing... She died all alone in here.
I knew you'd do this. Cirrhosis, they said.
You cannot blame yourself, Kim.
The sad truth is...
..both you chaps know me far better than she ever did.
No, I doubt that.
As a matter of interest...
..who, outside our small circle of friends,
have you ever revealed your real self to?
"Shall I part my hair behind?" Oh, God, here we go.
"Do I dare to eat a peach?"
You two and your bloody poetry!
Heathen. We're to lift his spirits, remember?
Rome, eh?
Business or pleasure?
The Bolsheviks have discovered gelato.
Come on. I'm not taking no for an answer and nor would you.
A higher order?
His words, not mine.
Late night? Early morning.
Do you ever wear make-up?
Er, not really, no. Hm.
Any particular reason?
Er, I just never have.
Why? Hm.
As a matter of interest, why is it, do you suppose,
that of all the debriefers in the building
you were the one assigned to Nicholas Elliott?
I don't know. To get under his skin, I suppose.
Because you're a woman.
Er, the opposite of posh.
An affront to the gentlemen spies of SIS.
I told Sir Roger that you were the right person for this
because you're good at what you do.
Thank you.
And I thought Nick Elliott might find you intriguing.
Hm. Intriguing.
What are you not telling us, Lily?
Nothing...
..ma'am.
Hm.
It's not that a spot of rouge and mascara
necessarily make one a better liar,
but... sometimes they can help hide the truth.
Honestly, I'm not sure what I know and do not know as yet.
Well...
..Sir Roger is taking you off the case.
Why?
He says you look tired.
I've not been... It's barely been...
Er, and he couldn't tell me that to my face?
So that's it?
Nothing more to be done?
Officially, no.
Unofficially?
They call that one Shimmering Rose.
Best bacon and egg roll in the land.
Do you mind?
First, as they say in cowboy films, I come in peace.
How.
No need to explain the bug in my house.
Kim did a bunk to Moscow, CIA got wind and suspect I helped him,
so you said you'd come to London and have a bit of a poke about.
It's all to be expected. That's very sporting of you.
But I'll wager you skipped the part about why you really came here.
To be in radio frequency range with your people in Moscow.
I don't run joes in the field any more, Nick.
I'm management now.
Hm. So I gather.
The KGB raided a flat in Moscow last night.
The man surrendered but the woman went down fighting.
Your people?
She's dead, Jim.
Kim is a traitor.
A double agent for the KGB.
Has been for 30 years.
Had me fooled since we first met in 1940,
and you since right after Pearl Harbor.
As painful as that is...
..it's important that we finally come to terms
with the cold, hard fact that one of our own,
whom we loved, respected and admired,
to the point of, dare I say it, hero worship...
..has done the unthinkable.
Hero worship?
Speak for yourself.
I am. Believe me.
Go back to Washington. Today.
Cover your tracks in Moscow if you can...
..and destroy all evidence of your blind faith in Kim.
And then we need never speak of this again.
What about you, Nick?
What are you doing to redeem yourself?
Fuck!
Give me a light. What happened?
Do you have a fucking light or not?
SPEECH ON RADIO
Do we know the name of the woman they killed last night?
Well, here's to her, anyway.
And to my mother.
And Aileen, the mother of my children.
God rest her soul.
Who knows, maybe you'll be next.
PHONES RING
SNEEZE
Bless you. Thank you.
Close the door, please.
I'm sorry, you'll have to remind me of your name again.
Martin.
That's right, Martin. Martin what?
Arthur Martin. Ah. Martin's your surname.
Mrs Thomas is no longer assigned to your case.
May I ask why?
Not your concern.
Aren't you a tad senior to be the messenger?
I've come to talk to you about Sir Anthony Blunt.
Was it your decision to replace Mrs Thomas?
Sir Roger's.
Women, eh? Quite.
I wasn't aware I'm a "case." Pull up a pew. Cup of tea?
No, thank you, I'm fine.
Sit.
I'm sure Mrs Thomas probably warned you,
I like to take a moment or two to break the ice.
I understand you recently had lunch with Sir Anthony Blunt.
At my club.
Beef Wellington. Must have been... Thursday. Yeah.
What was the reason for this lunch?
Although I think he ordered the fish.
Reason? Er, Vermeer.
Beg your pardon?
Artist. Dutch. Dab hand with perspective, all that.
Mr Elliott,
may I remind you I'm here under the authority of the minister.
Fine.
Sir Anthony Blunt. Formerly of MI5, and now, as we know, the KGB.
Allegedly. Are you defending him?
No. I'm just saying. Because he's MI5.
Ex MI5.
Just as when you, at MI5, took it upon yourselves to investigate us
here at SIS for our handling of Kim Philby...
As ordered by the Home Secretary.
..whom do you suppose it might fall to
to examine MI5's handling of Blunt?
Let me be very clear, whatever it is you are hiding,
whatever it is you are up to,
you are under no circumstances to go anywhere near Sir Anthony again.
Ten years ago, when we shared source intelligence with you
about a possible Soviet penetration agent at MI5, you personally -
Of course I remember your sodding name,
how could I fucking well forget it? - were responsible for the inquiry
that completely overlooked and missed Blunt.
So I beg to differ that it's not my concern.
In fact, I'm rather glad you dropped by.
Are you sure I can't offer you a cup of tea?
Would you get hold of Mrs Thomas for me, please?
However, to many at the time
Francesco Borromini was regarded as sacrilegious
in the world of early 17th century Italian architecture,
and accused of suborning the laws of the ancients
with chaos and disorder.
Such is art, ladies and gentlemen.
All I can say is thank God for those few so-called heretics
who insisted that Borromini, and not, in fact, Bernini,
is the greatest genius of Baroque architecture.
Bloody Yanks. Look at that.
You've gotta take your hat off to them.
See, that's the difference between you and me.
That I have genuine admiration for American ingenuity?
Sometimes I think this is all just some endless game to you.
You say that...
as though...
you've never been a player of the game yourself.
That was in the war, when things were anything but a game.
PHONE RINGS
Belgravia 4367?
I left a message at MI5 over two hours ago now,
and her home number is off the hook.
'All right. Never mind. Go home now.' Thank you.
What's wrong? Nothing.
I'm worried that in your desperation to repair all the damage Kim's done,
you're in danger of making things worse.
Desperation?
Only a minute ago you were saying it was all just a game!
Kiss me.
What's that for?
Does there have to be a reason?
Did you have a good day? Not too bad.
We had to give our vaccines to King's Hospital, so...
You know.
You win some, you lose some. Hm.
You?
Yeah.
Fine.
HE CHUCKLES
All right, keep your radio on.
BREATHES HEAVILY
PHONE RINGS
Answer that and I'll murder you.
Go on, then.
'Angleton did exactly what you hoped.'
When he got to the airport, rather than fly back to America,
he gets in another car that was waiting for him there,
and drives north for an hour and a half.
North?
Where?
'Dear Nick, I've been a bloody fool.'
NICK: "I like a Martini" Said Mabel
"But I've learned to take two At the most."
SMASHING
"For with three I'm under the table And with four I'm under my host."
Now that is poetry.
'Dear Nick,
'bravo, old bean.
'You sold me a rope
'which I mistook for a lifeline...
'..rather than the noose that it is.
'Only you would have pulled that one off.'
There once was a Yank named Jim...
Who swore by his old friend Kim.
And every time they drank...
They'd go for a wank. Argh!
To the tune of their favourite hymn.
ALL LAUGH
'So...
'in the grand scheme of things,
'I do hope everything that happened between us
'over the course of our long friendship
'hasn't caused too much discomfort and inconvenience.'
It's all quiet.
He's just sat down to dinner at The Connaught.
MAN: 'I'm round the corner.' Save me some tea.
Wait. Something's happening.
He's leaving. I need you here now!
Fuck's sake! Where are you?
HE CLEARS THROAT Sorry.
You're a good 'un, Dr Thomas. Too good for me.
Don't I know it!
And you're too good for this bloody country.
I think someone had a little too much wine!
My beautiful man.
What happened? Just drive.
Fuck, he'll be halfway to Moscow by now.
Sod it, this is pointless.
Pull over here. Pull over.
PHONE RINGS Be one of your patients.
Sorry, yeah.
HE CLEARS THROAT
Dr Thomas?
'Mrs Thomas, please. It's urgent.'
For you. Emergency, he says.
PHONE RINGS
Hello? 'It's happened...'
Where have you been? Who is it?
'They took him at The Connaught hotel.' Mrs Thomas.
But there was some sort of cock-up
and we've lost them somewhere near Grosvenor Square.
Give me your number.
'Norwood 3478.'
I'll call you back.
MI5 have lost Blunt.
NICK: 'I once looked up to you, Kim. My God, how I despise you now.
'I only hope you've got enough decency left in you
'to understand why.
'You had to choose between Marxism and your family,
'and you chose Marxism!
'What, nothing to say?'
Marxism I can almost take, but cowardice? That I can't stomach.
Not from you. Now you're getting desperate.
Let's talk about Stalin.
You know, believe it or not,
I'm actually beginning to worry about you.
Of course, I understand
that we're trained to separate thought from feeling,
but doing it with Stalin is going too far.
It's like... It's like rationalising Hitler.
I'm not gonna argue the difference between Stalin and Hitler.
No? Why not? I'm fascinated. They were both monsters.
Stalin was a monster. Are you happy now?
You've got 24 hours to get back here with a signed confession
or there's nothing more I can do for you.
Because you've done so much already (!)
I'm offering you a lifeline, Kim.
Yeah. Goodbye, Nick.
And you'd be a fool not to take it!
Thanks, Jock.
What makes you so sure this is where he is?
Because he's an old friend and therefore somewhat predictable.
You mean like Philby?
Do try not to be a total pillock, Desmond.
MEN ARGUE IN RUSSIAN
Argh!
Oh, fuck!
HE GROANS
Ey!
Kakogo chorta...
sadish'sya na moyu estradu?
MAN SHUSHES
Idiot.
HE COUGHS, MAN LAUGHS
Tebe nravitsya?
Oof. Country air.
Fuck off. Fuck off!
Fuck off! Go away!
Sneg...
Do you mind stretching your legs for a few moments, please, Desmond?
Need a pee anyway.
I was, of course, going to bring you in on this.
On an illegal CIA abduction.
Of a known communist agent.
This is not the way to save yourself, Jim.
I'm the only friend you've got right now,
and I've told you what you need to do...
Go back to Washington before it's too late...
..and leave Blunt to me.
Thank you, Nicholas.
In case you're wondering, I didn't tell them a thing.
Wake me up when we get there.
Chudik. Vstavay, tebe govoryat.
Ey, vstavay.
Vstavay, tebe govoryat.
You remember Mrs Thomas. Sir Anthony.
TOILET FLUSHES
I'll say good night, then.
Sit down, Tony.
I know what you're thinking.
Good. That ought to save us some time, then.
I'm not the third man.
No. That'd be Kim.
You're the fourth man.
You don't deny it, then?
I've been through all this already.
When? Last night.
With whom? Sir Roger. Hollis.
When you say you've been through all of this already...
My conversation with Sir Roger is confidential.
Have you told the Russians?
Tony?
Nicholas?
Have you told the Russians your cover's blown?
No.
Oh, she stays.
I'm telling you this because I know you care about what happens to Kim.
I thought I already told you I wanted to kill him.
Why didn't you, then?
You're telling me what?
Do you think I might have a glass of water?
Yep. I'll get it.
If the Russians were ever to find out
that Kim blew my cover to you in Beirut...
Your head would be the first to roll, of that you can be certain.
What instructions were you given in the event of your cover being blown?
I have no instructions. There were none.
I should warn you that in the greater scheme of things...
..I don't give a damn how much my exposing you as a Soviet spy
might embarrass the Queen.
I have had no contact with Russian intelligence since 1945.
After you helped them defeat... No glasses, I'm afraid.
You'll have to drink out of the tap. It's fine.
Is Her Majesty aware of your work for Russian intelligence?
I don't think I need to dignify that.
No.
You absolutely do.
Or should I toss you back to the Americans?
Of course she isn't aware.
My instructions were to go to Hollis.
And do what? Inform him that I was blown.
What's he supposed to do about it? That I don't know.
But you were told he might help? So I understood, yes.
How did he react when you told him? Hard to say.
What did he tell you to do?
Nothing. He told me to do nothing until he got back to me.
Who is your KGB handler? I don't have a handler.
So who told you to go to Hollis?
Philby.
Fuck off, I said!
Come on, Kim. I'm taking you home.
I have no home, thanks to you.
Kim. Come.
Kim!
GRUNTING
Kim!
INDISTINCT
GROANING
PANTING
Silly arse.
NURSE: Mne nuzhno, chtoby ty yego proveryala kazhdyye desyat' minut.
DOOR OPENS
What are you doing up?
Hello, Nick.
Sir Roger!
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