The Face of the Enemy Father Brown

Providing a much-needed window for Northern Rhodesian painters,

the Lusaka Art Society held a most interesting exhibition.

It had a completely comprehensive nature,

ranging from this most striking sculpture by Miss Jean Warrington

to this vivid depiction of an African village

by Lady Felicia Montague.

And here she is now.

Patron of the Lusaka Art Society,

Lady Felicia's a pretty picture herself

and always the epitome of grace and decorum.

One thing's for certain,

his Excellency, the Governor Montgomery Montague

is a lucky man to have such a beautiful and devoted wife.

-HE MAKES KNOCKING SOUND

-Why do you always do that?

Because it makes you laugh.

-Stop it.

-It makes you look happy.

Have you thought any more about...?

It's all I can think about.

And?

You're asking me to give up my whole life.

My marriage. Everything.

To live happily ever after...

..more or less.

You're mad.

What would everybody think?

This isn't about what people think.

-And Monty?

-You're just an accessory to him.

I am not an accessory!

That's why you need someone who can see that.

Don't make the same mistake twice.

How dare you suggest my marriage was a mistake.

Do you love him? Are you happy?

Felicia?

You're as naive and reckless now as you were ten years ago.

Maybe that's why I turned you down.

You turned me down because you were scared,

like you are now.

We love each other, don't we?

Don't we?

Then call me an old romantic

but I don't think anything should get in the way of that.

I know what I'm asking.

This could be the most terrifying thing you've ever done. But...

..it could also make you the happiest you've ever been.

Yes.

-Yes?

-Yes.

-Yes!

I love you.

SHE LAUGHS

Ooooh!

Uh, uh, not yet!

What's the camera for?

Homes and Garden Magazine

are holding a "Queen of the Kitchen" competition.

Oh, maybe I could pose for it.

You can't boil an egg.

-Father, would you do the honours?

-Of course.

Oooh, very good.

Very regal.

Finished?

Yes. Now you may eat.

Typical. We show up after all this time

and the first thing we see is you gorging yourselves!

Sid! Lady Felicia!

Don't all talk at once. It's not a pretty picture.

Oooh, I've missed these!

-Father Brown.

-You may have two.

Why didn't you tell us you were coming?

It was a last minute decision.

We felt like a change from the Rhodesian climate.

And there's nothing quite like the Kembleford rain.

For your information, the weather here has been beautiful.

Oh, every day in Kembleford is like a day in paradise.

That was actually quite convincing.

Thank you! I'm thinking of becoming an actress.

ALL: No!

So there I was, in the jungle...

-In the garden.

-..face-to-face with this lion...

-Cub.

-It was not a cub.

-How big are we talking?

-Big enough it could've ripped me to shreds.

-So, cat-sized then?

-It was bigger than a cat.

-But smaller than a fox.

-A most magnificent gift.

-Ah...

I used to keep it for best, but now I never go anywhere without it.

-Thank you.

-It makes you look positively regal.

Oh!

You do know that this is the exact same handbag that the Duchess of...

Windsor.

Well, you have mentioned it a couple of times.

Oh!

So how long have we got you?

I'm not entirely sure yet, which reminds me...

..I have a train to catch.

-But we've hardly seen you.

-I'm meeting Monty in London.

He's there on business, but I should be back tomorrow. Sid...

She runs me ragged.

Yes, when you're not lounging by the pool with a beer in your hand.

It gets hot out there.

You've got to keep cool. It's health and safety.

Is everything all right?

Absolutely.

Ta-ta.

From the look of undisguised loathing on your face,

I take it you remember me.

-What do you want?

-A moment of your time.

I'm catching a train.

-To see your husband?

-Yes.

To tell him about your lover, Benedict Northam?

I don't know what you're talking about.

"Call me an old romantic,

"but I don't think anything should stand in the way of our love.

-"I understand this would be the most terrifying thing..."

-Stop.

It was very moving. I almost shed a tear.

I'm not surprised you said yes.

You said it several times, in fact,

during the rest of your stay in his room that afternoon.

-Would you like to see the transcript?

-Why?

I'll explain everything in the car.

Trust me, it's in your best interests.

A Soviet Spy?

We've been tracking him for months. His diplomatic missions are a cover.

So why haven't you had him arrested?

Two weeks ago, we discovered an infiltrator

at the Ministry of Defence - one of our scientists.

Under interrogation, he confessed to photographing certain blueprints.

We believe that Benedict will take possession of that film tomorrow

at an arts fundraiser he's holding at his house.

You want me to be YOUR spy.

Duplicity is one of your strengths, is it not?

If you see an opportunity,

you're to replace the original film with this duplicate.

It contains misinformation,

it'll have them chasing their tails for months.

Bring the original to me.

Benedict is not a traitor.

There's only one way for you to find out.

You can't blackmail me into doing your dirty work

every time it suits you.

My dear, the stakes for you are far higher

-than your reputation and marriage.

-Meaning?

Meaning that if you don't co-operate, it might give us

cause to suspect you of collusion with the enemy.

I would hate to see your pretty face distended at the end of a rope.

Now, be a good girl, do your job.

If not for me, then for Queen and country.

-Yes?

-I'm looking for Benedict Northam.

Have you got an appointment?

Appointment?

Felicia!

I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.

Surprise!

-Have I come at a bad time?

-No, not at all.

Sir, we still have to finalise the details for the fundraiser.

The guest lists, the catering...

Well, I rely entirely on your judgement, Ms Winslow.

I suddenly find myself preoccupied.

Yes, of course.

My private secretary.

-HE WHISPERS:

-She's madly in love with me.

Naturally.

Not here.

You haven't told Monty.

He was tied up in meetings. He couldn't see me.

Well, send him a telegram.

"I'm leaving you. Stop. Marriage over. Stop."

This isn't a joke.

I'm sorry.

Oh, what's wrong?

Nothing.

I can always tell when your smile doesn't reach your eyes.

I don't know whether to find that romantic or...

Or what?

Unsettling that you observe me so closely.

I can't help myself.

Cold feet?

How do I know that I can trust you?

I would never betray you.

Well, those are just words. They don't mean anything.

And what about that? Does that mean anything?

If you think one kiss can just magically...

-All night?

-Well, the bed's not been slept in.

He's got her up to no good, I guarantee it.

I say call the police.

Police? What are you all doing here?

Where have you been?

London. I told you.

We were worried about you.

I saw you leave the station with Daniel Whittaker.

Lady Felicia, what's going on?

It's a personal matter, Father.

-Oh, between you and MI5?

-Are you in danger?

Of course not.

Then why do you look so uneasy?

I appreciate your concern, all of you,

but I would ask that you don't pry any further.

We are not prying.

We are trying to help.

Why? So you can gossip it all over Kembleford?

I'm sorry. It's been a trying morning.

But I don't need your help

and, at the risk of sounding rude, I'd rather be alone.

I have a fundraiser to attend this evening

and I need...40 winks.

I'll go alone. I'll be less conspicuous.

Says the man in a cassock.

Well, I'm not waiting in the car if my aunt is in danger.

Me neither, in case you need some muscle.

-Muscle?!

-Well, in that case,

I'm not staying here like a lost lemon.

SOFT PIANO MUSIC PLAYS

-BACKGROUND CHATTER

-I'm so glad you could make it.

You know how fond I am of the arts.

Three more donations, almost £500 in total.

Splendid.

Just excuse me for a moment.

You can't keep your eyes off him, can you?

How do you know Mr Northam?

I guarantee, it'll be worth a fortune after I'm dead.

Oh, it's a shame it isn't true while you're alive.

Well?

That's not really any of your business.

This man is one of the greatest sculptors I have ever met,

and yet he insists on giving me the ugliest creation he can muster.

What can I say? I'm a sadist.

I do hope you'll give it pride of place.

Put this in my study,

-under a blanket!

-THEY CHUCKLE

What are you doing here?

-We were concerned for your safety.

-Then please leave.

So you are in trouble?

-Let's just get you out of here.

-I am perfectly safe!

I know Daniel Whittaker. He's a man on a crusade.

That makes him dangerous.

I don't disagree that he is a loathsome human being,

but this is more complicated than you understand.

He's blackmailing you.

Will you all please just...go away!

-We cannot leave her here.

-Agreed.

We'll split up, keep an eye on.

Thank you so much for coming.

Ah, another tally, Ms Winslow?

I know who you are.

Excuse me?

I've known for months.

-I don't know what you're talking...

-A spy.

An enemy agent.

Can I help it if I accidentally

overhear your telephone conversations?

And what exactly is it you think you've heard, Ms Winslow?

It's not me you have to worry about.

It's her...

..your floozy.

She's after whatever it is you've got hidden in that statue.

She's betraying you.

I want to join you.

Your cause.

I was trying to help!

SOFT PIANO MUSIC PLAYS

Who are you working for?

The Russians? MI5?

So it's true.

You're a traitor!

What were you looking for in that statue? Answer me.

What are you looking for?

Was it this?

Tell me who you're working for.

Or what? You'll shoot?

Don't test me, Felicia.

Answer the question.

MI5.

I'm afraid this is Mr Northam's private study.

I won't be a moment.

I just wish to ensure my glorious work of art is displayed

with the prominence it so richly deserves.

Who in MI5?

Daniel Whittaker.

What in the blazes... My God, man, what are you doing?

I tried to stop him.

Is this some kind of joke?

It's not a joke.

Put that thing down or I'll call the police.

I'm afraid I can't do that.

Ms Winslow, please wait outside and make sure no-one else comes in.

Yes, Mr Northam.

What's going on?

He's a Soviet Spy.

What?

Alfred...

No sign of her.

Let's check outside.

GUNSHOT

Lady Felicia.

Excuse me.

SHE GROANS

I'll call an ambulance.

No, it's not my blood. We need to leave. Now.

Sidney, my bag...

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Oh, my Lord!

-I'm all right.

-Your head is bleeding.

We are taking you to hospital.

-No!

-Mrs McCarthy, please find Bunty. We are going home.

-Yes.

Keep this safe.

WOMAN SCREAMS

Alfred Lane.

He was a sculptor.

Is this one of his works?

I believe so.

Looks like someone wasn't too fond of it.

I doubt that was the motive for his murder, Sergeant.

Oh, I don't know, sir.

You know what some of those art critics are like.

Mr Whittaker!

Sergeant. Daniel Whittaker, MI5. I'm taking charge of this investigation.

Excuse me?

It's not here. Search the house and everyone in it.

No-one's to leave.

-Would you mind telling me what's going on?

-What happened here?

I'm the one asking the questions.

Either cooperate, or I'll have you back in uniform before you know what's hit you.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

And you are?

Benedict Northam's personal secretary.

How personal?

Our relationship is purely professional.

And where is your employer now?

The last time I saw him he was...with a lady friend.

Felicia Montague? Bring her in.

You think she did it?

Well, as far as I'm concerned, she's your prime suspect. Now find her.

Sir.

What's on it?

Something worth killing for.

What happened in that study?

Who killed that man?

I don't know.

I can't...

KNOCKING

How cosy.

We're just having a nightcap.

We're looking for Lady Felicia.

Well, she's in Northern Rhodesia.

Apparently not.

We've checked the Montague House and the presbytery...

And thought perhaps she could be hiding here.

Hiding?

She's wanted, for murder.

Holy Mother!

Well, that is surprising, but I'm sure Lady Felicia...

She's the prime suspect, according to MI5.

We haven't seen her.

Witnesses say there was a priest at the party.

Lot of us about.

At parties?

You'd be surprised.

If she contacts you, you are to inform us immediately. Understand?

I'll show you out.

DOOR CLOSES

Whittaker wants that film.

I have been trying to talk her out of it, but will she listen?

Nice dress, Aunt Fliss.

Not quite my style, but...

Humble apologies if my wardrobe isn't up to your haute couture standard.

It's quite lovely,

and has the distinct advantage of not being covered in blood.

Thank you, Bunty.

Talk you out of what?

I've decided to give Whittaker the film.

Once he has it, my part in his scheme is over.

You don't know that for certain.

Do you remember what happened to me? Locked up. False charges.

You can not trust him.

Perhaps I should speak to him first.

That's exactly what I said.

I appreciate your concern, but I've involved you all long enough.

I got myself into this. I'll get myself out.

-I think you're forgetting something.

-What?

You're not in this alone.

Keep an eye on that. I won't be long.

Father Brown! I was wondering when you'd turn up.

I wouldn't want to let you down.

If I recall, you were rather helpful during our last encounter.

-Perhaps you'll prove just as useful this time.

-I do hope so.

Where is she?

Haven't the foggiest.

I'm going to assume you're lying.

That would be uncharitable.

Does she have it?

Have what?

And if you get what you want...?

Then it's all over. Lady Felicia is a free woman.

As opposed to what she is now? Your puppet?

Then cut the strings, Father. Give me that film.

Excuse me, but I've had enough.

I've been here all night, as have the guests.

We've been searched and questioned. What more do you want?

All right, let them go. Except for you.

What?

I'd like to discuss your relationship with

Mr Northam at greater length.

Wait in the drawing room.

This is unacceptable.

Feel free to contact our complaints department.

We haven't finished.

Lady Felicia's innocent. That's all you need to know.

Innocent of murder, perhaps, but little else.

Is that what this is about? Your judgment of her?

It's about protecting this country.

At any cost?

There are casualties in every war, Father.

Yes. I know.

I was there, standing next to some of the most honourable men

I've ever met.

Are you questioning my honour?

No, I'm questioning your motive.

Are you an honourable officer doing his duty

or are you a zealot, cursed with tunnel-vision, blinding you...

Lessons on zealotry from a Catholic priest.

I do hope you see the irony.

Blinding you to the humanity in others.

Then I'll leave it to you, shall I, to scream,

"Oh, the humanity, the humanity..."

when the Soviets drop nuclear bombs on our cities?

You're terrified.

We should all be terrified.

There's nothing better for the nerves

than a good, strong cup of tea.

And a nab of whisky, I find.

-Ah!

-OK.

CREAKING

Father?

Don't take another step.

I'm not a spy. At least, not the way you think I am.

Then who are you?

I say we turn him in.

For once, maybe Inspector Mallory will come in handy.

I work for a secret department within the Ministry of Defence.

Even Whittaker doesn't know about it.

It's the truth.

Or a lie from a cold-blooded traitor who just murdered an innocent man.

Alfred was my friend.

The one you were pointing the gun at? As you were me?

-I didn't know whether I could trust you.

-Well, the feeling's mutual.

-I didn't kill him.

-Then who did?

It was my devoted secretary.

No!

Don't worry, Mr Northam.

Give that to me.

Don't worry. I'll take care of everything.

-Lara!

-We're in this together.

Felicia.

Oh...

I was going to go after her, when...

When you realised that I had this.

If there's one thing I know about Whittaker,

he uses the oldest tricks in the book.

I couldn't be sure whether you had the original, but you have.

It is, right?

Is that why you're here? For this?

Or for me?

Both.

Don't listen to a word he says.

I know a player when I see one.

I wouldn't betray my country. And I wouldn't betray you, either.

I love you both.

Mr Whittaker?

Wait there.

-Where do you think you're going?

-I'm a busy woman. You have my details.

-I saw you take the film from the planter.

-Your handbag, please.

-Who are you working for?

-I already told you. Benedict Northam.

But stealing government secrets for your boss -

is that within your job description?

Loyalty is everything in a personal assistant.

Go ahead.

Take it to him.

We promise not to follow you.

What aren't you telling me?

Tell me!

The film's a fake.

-What are you doing?

-Saving your life.

Is this true?

-I don't know what he's talking about.

-They were switched.

You stole a duplicate.

Where's the real one?

Get in the car.

Stay back.

Well, even if he does turn out to be a traitor, I have to say,

he is gorgeous.

Thank you, Bunty, that's just what I needed to hear.

Obviously, I can't condone anyone who would betray their wedding vows,

but when he declared his love for you, it was like Bogart and Bacall.

-Oh!

-I do not believe this!

This guy flashes his lashes and you all fall for it hook, line and sinker!

-May we have a moment alone?

-No, you can't!

-It's all right, Sidney.

I'm hunting the leader of a spy ring.

No-one knows his identity other than he's a businessman with

ties to the Soviet Union. I need the film to infiltrate his network.

Without that, I...

I was about to give up my whole life for a lie!

How I feel about you isn't a lie.

I've loved you...

Oh, spare me the flowery declaration!

We both know why you're here - you just said so yourself.

How important is it to you? Enough to rip it from my hand?

-And what if I didn't let go? Would you beat it from me?

-I wouldn't...

How do I know? How do I know anything about you?

I would never force anything from you.

-I want to believe you.

-But?

You lie for a living.

PHONE RINGS

You all right?

-Hello.

-Mrs McCarthy.

-Father Brown!

-Please listen carefully.

I'm being held at gunpoint by Mr Northam's secretary.

Please put Lady Felicia on the telephone.

He's being held at gunpoint. He wants to talk to you.

Father Brown?

The film in exchange for your friend's life. Understand?

-Yes.

-There's a valley south of Hambleston.

-A crop of woods at the peak. Know it?

-Yes.

Come alone.

Thank you.

-You all right?

-Give it to me.

FOOTSTEPS

Lara.

You found me!

-I never lost you from sight.

-She stole the film!

I got it back for you.

-I saved your mission.

-You risked everything for me.

I killed for you.

I'm sorry if I ever underappreciated your talents, Lara.

I believe that belongs to me, too.

Wait a minute... How did you find me?

How did you know where I...

-Traitor.

-I don't understand.

No! You love me!

I hate to be the one to break it to you, Miss Winslow, but you are deluded.

No!!!

Don't shoot! He's British Intelligence!

No!

Don't worry - it's a flesh wound.

He's no good for interrogation if he's dead.

Find him.

How did you find us?

Mr Whittaker had us combing the area. I spotted Miss Winslow's car.

-I believe I was the one who spotted her car.

-If you say so, sir.

-Inspector Mallory, arrest this woman for offences under the Official Secrets Act.

-What?

That is entirely unnecessary.

I have no doubt that in the ensuing trial, your husband and the world

will be stunned to discover all of your dirty little secrets.

-No-one is to see her, Padre.

-Orders from above, Father.

We found Lara Winslow. Shot in the head. Film stolen.

I think we can safely assume this is Northam's work.

Naturally, I will be pressing for

-the maximum sentence for Lady Felicia.

-Lady Felicia is innocent.

-She passed top secret information.

-No, she didn't.

-This is the original. I switched it for a duplicate.

-Why on Earth...

In case anyone tried to steal it.

So...

Lady Felicia.

You'll cut the strings?

If the film is genuine.

Then again, she pushed Northam out of my line of fire.

-He only escaped because of her.

-She was there because of you.

Sorry, Father. No dice. A judge and jury will decide her fate.

You've got what you wanted! Now let her go.

It would be the honourable thing to do.

Is this the part where you tell me I'm lacking in humanity?

-I never said that.

-I will not be patronised.

-I was not trying to patronise you.

-Then what?

-Trying to understand.

Understand?

We see things only through the clouded lens of our own

perspective, then we are doomed.

Then understand this - we are fighting a war!

-Toby James.

-What?

Young man I knew during the war.

-I haven't got time for your old war stories.

-Sweet, gentle boy.

Didn't belong there. None of us did.

And then when he fell...for one brief, terrible moment,

the only thing I felt in my heart was hatred for the enemy.

So I understand, Mr Whittaker. I really do.

But...then I thought about the boy that had killed him.

Same age, probably.

How scared he was.

And then that hatred left me.

I do believe that we can be so much better than our basest feelings.

Don't you?

Welcome home!

-Oh, thank you! This is lovely!

-So no more trouble!

-No more secret missions.

-And no more dramas.

I'm headed back to Northern Rhodesia with Monty next week.

-No more dramas.

-Oh, how dull!

Kembleford is never dull!

Which reminds me,

Sid, I have a very long list of jobs for you at the presbytery.

-Oh, thank you very much, Father.

-Any news of...

Well, I'm sure he's all right.

He looked like the kind of man who knew how to take care of himself.

-Telegram, my lady.

-Excuse me, Mrs M.

Thank you, Hornby.

Is your answer still yes?

Did you kill Lara?

No.

The film's gone. Mission's a failure.

I feel at least partially responsible. I'm sorry.

Is that why you've come? To apologise?

I came because I had to see you.

You still haven't answered my question.

This might sound strange, but...

..you've always been my path not taken.

It's tortured me, I think, without my even realising it, and now...

It doesn't.

Let's just say the reality was a lot more dangerous than I'd anticipated.

-I'd give it all up.

-And do what?

-A desk job?

-Yes.

-Why not?

-Because you'd hate it!

-And eventually, you'd hate me.

-Never!

Oh, I'm no picnic!

And you love what you do.

You live for it.

Admit it.

I can't take that away from you.

Felicia...

My answer is no.

It has to be.

Let's just remember this for what it was.

What it is.

Something beautiful.

So beautiful...

that it couldn't last.

So beautiful that we could only hold on to it for a moment.

But that even that...even the briefest of moments...

Can last a lifetime.

Comrade.