Why don't you go back and sleep, Mr. Leamas?
We'll ring you if he should show up.
Maybe he'll come some other time.
We can have the police contact you. You can be back here in 20 minutes.
You can't wait forever, sir.
He'll come with the workmen. He'll come with the night crowd.
That's what you said last night.
Agents are not airplanes, you know. They don't have schedules.
Didn't they teach you that in the C.I.A?
He's on the run. Mundt is after him at this moment.
Let him choose his own time.
Mundt may have caught him like he's caught all the others.
Riemeck's not like the others.
You need some sleep, sir.
Look, if you want to go, go.
You've been very good. I'll tell the Agency you've been damn good.
I'll be around.
What's wrong? Why are the Vopos so close? I don't know.
What are your orders for giving covering fire to protect a man - a man on the run?
If they shoot into the West, we shoot back. That's all.
We cannot give covering fire. That's the truth.
They tell us there would be war if we did.
I've got a man coming over tonight.
Here? At this crossing point?
It'd mean a great deal if we could get him out.
There are still places where you can climb.
Ah, not that kind. He -
He'll bluff his way through. He's got papers, if the papers are any good.
A man with a bicycle.
Why has Control called me back?
Control's pretty vexed about Mundt liquidating Riemeck.
Then why doesn't he have the sense to let his station head stay in Berlin... and arrange for somebody to liquidate Mundt?
Pawson. Yes, sir?
What section are you in? Personnel.
Do you like it? Fascinating.
You get to know everybody's fate.
What's mine? Better let Control tell you that.
It's not my job.
But you do know, of course.
Well, do sit down. You must be tired.
Ginnie's away, I'm afraid.
And this new girl - she never warms the pot.
She's called Patrice. Imagine.
It used to be two lumps. It still is.
And, of course, uh, no milk.
Simply maddening, isn't it?
One wonders how they catch them all.
Salamon. Now Karl Riemeck.
Such a pity we lost him.
Would you like a drink? I'll wait.
Can you still do that?
Hmm. I wonder whether you're tired, burnt out.
Well, that's a phenomenon we understand here.
It's like metal fatigue.
We have to live without sympathy, don't we? We can't do that forever.
One can't stay out-of-doors all the time.
One needs to come in. In from the cold.
I'm an operator, Control. Just an operator.
There's a vacancy in Banking Section which might suit you.
Sorry. I'm an operational man.
I'll take my pension. I don't want a desk job.
You don't know what's on the desk. Paper.
I want you to, uh - to stay out in the cold... a little longer.
Please, do sit down.
Our work, as I understand it... is based on a single assumption that the West is never going to be the aggressor.
Thus... we do disagreeable things... but we're defensive.
Our policies are peaceful... but our methods can't afford to be less ruthless than those of the opposition.
You know, I'd say, uh... since the war, our methods - our techniques, that is - and those of the Communists, have become very much the same.
I mean, occasionally... we have to do wicked things.
Very wicked things indeed.
But, uh, you can't be less wicked... than your enemies simply because your government's policy is benevolent.
What I have in mind for Mundt... is a little out of the ordinary.
You haven't met him, have you? Mundt? No.
Oh, well, he was here in '59.
He was posing as a member of the East German Steel Mission.
That was in Berlin. Mm-hmm.
And, uh... how do you feel about him?
He's a bastard.
[Man] Robert Jones.
Leamas. Alec Leamas.
[Man] John Wilson.
Last time and the time before I was seen by a Mr. Melrose.
My name's Pitt. Melrose has flu.
Not much of a stayer, are you?
The jobs weren't exactly the kind of job - Mr. Leamas... fluent German isn't much use... even in an experienced sales representative... who's frequently speechless by lunchtime.
Vacancies for male nurses at Battersea General.
Think I'd do better as a patient.
Ah. Here's one where your languages might help.
Blantyre Institute of Psychical Research in Candahar Road.
Five minutes on an 11 bus.
They want another assistant.
The librarian's a Miss Crail.
Well, I should gargle, Mama.
Yes. Yes, I know. There's a lot of it about.
Yes. Yes. Good-bye, Mama.
Can I help you?
My name is Leamas.
I was sent from the Labor Exchange by a Mr. Pitt as a possible new assistant.
Oh. You have your qualification form?
You've used a card index? Now and then.
Is your handwriting legible? Except at weekends.
Our books used to be shelved and indexed under titles and authors.
But now Brigadier Blantyre wants them rearranged... and additionally indexed under subjects... with cross-references to authors and titles.
Phantasms of the Living by Gurney, Myers and Podmore... had already been title-indexed under "P" for "phantasms"... and author-indexed under "G" for Gurney, "M" for Myers -
"P" for Podmore.
Now it must also be subject-indexed under "A" for "apparitions."
Have you understood that? They told me the job pays £11.10 a week.
[Phone Rings] Excuse me.
Would you like to share my sandwiches?
Wouldn't dream of it. Something called "Savoury Spread."
I still wouldn't dream of it.
There isn't a café for miles. Any pubs?
Yes, but you can't get lunch in any of them. I'll be okay.
[No Audible Dialogue]
[Bell Dings] [Door Opens, Closes]
Bloody night, Mr. Patmore.
Bloody dirty, Mr. Leamas. Loaf of bread.
[Sighs] And a tin of this corn beef.
Let me have some marmalade.
And a tin of tomato soup.
That'll be, uh, um - [Mumbles]
Four and six, sir.
Shove it on the bill, Mr. Patmore.
Sorry, Mr. Leamas. I told you last week.
If you want a proper credit account... you need a banker's reference.
You'll get your cash on Friday.
You can have the goods on Friday.
I've got a job.
Very well, sir.
[Leamas] Miss Perry. Yes, Mr. Leamas?
Uh, Montague Summers's The Werewolf- where would I -
Oh, under "metamorphoses."
It's, uh - It's in the subsection on lycanthropy.
On what? Lycanthropy.
A lycanthrope is a man who's been transformed into a wolf.
Seems popular. Quite a lot of people have taken it out.
Oh, they're all little Mr. Beamish. He takes it out about once a month.
At the full moon?
What do you do on payday, Alec?
Do you visit friends... go to the cinema?
No. Go out to dinner?
No. Where do you eat then? At home?
I suppose so.
Good night. Like to have dinner at my place?
I've got a bottle of wine left over from Christmas.
Could I contribute half a bottle of scotch?
I keep one at home.
For medicinal purposes. Ah.
Candles were new, weren't they?
They just hadn't been used before.
Come have a coffee and whisky.
You know, Nan, you really shouldn't have.
You know, whisky's very - very expensive.
Sugar? Two lumps.
Your fingers will be all right.
And no milk.
Is the, uh, soda medicinal too?
You're very observant. Mmm, I've had to be.
Why? Well, I was a scoutmaster.
I don't believe it.
You sometimes have the look of a dedicated man, not to that particular cause.
Me, dedicated? Well -
What do you believe in? [Chuckles]
Well, don't laugh. Tell me.
Well, I believe that a Number 11 bus will get me to Hammersmith.
I do not believe it will be driven by, uh, Father Christmas.
That's not a cause.
What would you like me to believe in? Peter Pan? Or God?
Oh, no. Of course not. I don't believe in God either.
Oh? What do you believe in?
Partly. Partly freedom. Partly -
[Chuckles] Oh, Nan.
Don't tell me you're a - you're a bloody Communist.
Fighting for peace.
Well, other people just talk. The Party's going to do something.
What, may I ask, will the Party do for comrade Nan?
I was once driving down a main road in, uh - on-on the Continent... and I saw two great trucks... move out and converge on a... station wagon driving down the middle of the road.
I only heard the crash because I drove on.
The last I saw of the station wagon was three small children - two little boys and a little girl... laughing through - through the back window.
I, uh -
It's the innocents who get slaughtered.
Compassion is not enough. Nobody wants that.
Well, it - i-it's got to be organized, disciplined, to be of any use.
Well, that's what the Party does for us. Don't you see?
It organizes our emotions. Oh, Nan.
You're too proud for that, aren't you? Nan -
Don't let's argue, Alec. This evening was meant to please you.
Oh, it did.
Well... thank you for my stew and my... coffee and my wine and my medicinal whisky.
Good night, Nan.
[Dings] [Man] And half a pound of Parmesan.
Anything more, Mrs. Zanfrello?
Will be all, thank you. Oh. That'll be, uh, two, five, two, seven.
Seven and seven. Cash or credit?
[Mrs. Zanfrello] Please, to credit. Right.
Let me have, uh - Let me have a tin of that caviar.
Well, it's only mock, Mr. Leamas. It's, uh, Norwegian.
I prefer it mock.
Let me have a tin of the...
California cling peaches.
Large or small? Large. I've got to keep my strength up.
And, uh... a pound of butter.
And, uh, let me have some of this scampi.
Ah, Italian. Is very nice.
Madam, I'll thank you not to insult the hot blood of Irish prawns... taken from the Bay of Dublin herself.
[Indistinct] Right. That'll be 19 and nine, please, sir.
Cash or credit?
Beg your pardon, sir?
Cash or credit?
Well, you said Friday, Mr. Leamas. Cash, please.
If a bloody Italian can have credit, why can't a bloody Irishman?
Now, there's no need for talk like that.
Put that phone down. [Dials]
Put that phone down! [Mrs. Zanfrello Gasps]
[Mr. Zanfrello] Marcella, call the police.
[Mrs. Zanfrello] Sì. [Bell Dings]
I brought you some sandwiches.
You shouldn't have come, Nan.
What'll Miss Crail think, consorting with an ex-convict during the library's time?
It's 8:15. I'll catch the next Number 7 and she'll never know.
What'll you do, Alec? Go for a walk, have a bit of a think... avoid the pubs, visit the Labor Exchange... collect my suitcase from the caretaker - I've collected it.
It's at my flat till you find somewhere decent.
Nan, I - Dinner will be served at 8:00... with a Portuguese wine spelt D-A-O... with a twiddle over the "A" and pronounced "dang."
"Dang." I made Hungarian goulash.
Well, I thought it'd be tactful to serve a Communist dish with a totalitarian wine.
What's in the parcel, Alec?
Oh, my pajamas. Good.
8:00. Don't be late.
Do you like birds?
The ones with the white collars are wild, and the others are domesticated.
With people it's the other way round. [Chuckles]
Bird-watching's one of my hobbies. I often come here.
Do you also often come to Wormwood Scrubs Prison at 8:00 in the morning to watch birds?
They're my other hobby. Only the young ones, surely.
That's not quite fair.
I'm a member of a charitable discharged prisoners' aid society called the Link.
Why pick on me, Mr. Ashe?
Because the governor said that you'd refused prisoners' aid... and you wouldn't even see a probation officer.
Now, that's proud and stupid.
So I followed you.
And what sort of aid does your charitable organization dispense, Mr. Ashe?
We try and find your professional qualifications.
Half a bottle of whisky a day, or is that a disqualification?
[Chuckles] Then introduce you to other members of the Link... who might find you a job.
Officially, we're allowed to offer you five pounds out of society's funds... to tide you over the first few days.
And... unofficially, we're allowed to offer you lunch.
More retsina? I don't see why not.
I've nothing to be clearheaded for.
Oh, but you will have, if only you'll stop being obstinate... and let me introduce you to this great friend of mine, Dick Carlton.
Yeah. All right. All right. But I keep on telling you, I can't write... except business reports.
And I keep on telling you, you don't have to write.
His agency's always on the lookout for German background material.
Political, economic, social. Even tourist stuff.
He services the holiday magazines too.
Now, you, with your... business experience of Berlin... provide the facts, the opinions.
His chaps will do all the writing.
As a matter of fact, I'm, uh -
I'm meeting him myself this evening at a club in Dean Street... called the Pussy Willow, 7:30, for drinks.
Care to join us? No, sorry. Sorry. No. I have a date.
Oh. Just drop in for a quick one.
You might do yourself a bit of good.
Anyway, I'll bring a check for five quid from the Link to tide you over.
I'll bring cash. [Chuckles]
Pussy Willow. Dean Street.
Okay. Well, I have to go now.
Finish your wine.
Thanks, uh, for the -
We haven't met. My name's Smiley. I live here.
So they've made contact.
A man called Ashe.
The way you beat up that grocer was masterly, Alec.
Two small paragraphs down the page in the West London Observer.
But it was enough.
A shark can smell blood a mile off when he's hungry... and, uh, Mundt is hungry for our blood.
Name me a counterespionage head who isn't hungry... for one high-grade, defecting spy.
So I'm to defect.
Yes, I wanted you to build up the portrait of a man... whom inaction and embitterment had driven to drink... but not yet to actual treachery.
Don't, uh, change the portrait by a brushstroke, Alec.
Just continue to be embittered.
Continue to drink.
Drink, but never be too drunk to think.
Smiley, give Leamas whisky and soda.
What am I to think about?
You're to think about the evidence we've cooked up to incriminate Mundt.
To incriminate him so lethally... that his own second-in-command... will arrest him and have him shot.
Yes, we've been cooking for a long time, Alec... with a great many ingredients and a great many pots.
Remember those two trips you made for us from Berlin... to, uh, Copenhagen and Helsinki?
Operation Rolling Stone.
That was one of the ingredients.
They'll interrogate you, of course... and, bit by bit... you'll come across with the evidence that'll kill Mundt.
Just feed them a stray fact here and a stray fact there.
Let them piece the clues and the facts together... into the story we want them to believe.
Yes. There's a man called Fiedler.
Mundt's second-in-command. Fiedler, my dear Alec... is the linchpin of our plan.
Fiedler's the only man who's a match for Mundt, and, uh... he hates his guts.
Fiedler's a Jew, of course, and Mundt's quite the other thing.
Believe me, my dear Alec...
Fiedler... is the acolyte who one day will stab the high priest in the back.
Rolling Stone will provide him with the dagger point.
Oh, and, uh, by the way... i-is there anything we can do while you're away for that, uh - uh, girlfriend of yours... uh, Miss Perry?
You know, I mean, uh, money or anything.
Only when it's over. Then I'll take care of it myself.
To do anything now would be very insecure.
Well, I just don't want her to be implicated.
I promise not to. I don't want her to have a file or anything.
I promise that too. I want her left out of it.
I want her forgotten.
She shall be.
And I think, until this thing is over, you should forget her too.
Go and meet Ashe's friend.
Go and meet Carlton. And after Carlton... whom?
Oh, we don't know, do we?
This party's on the Link, charitable society for the rehabilitation... of, uh, discharged prisoners. [Chuckles]
Bring us a bottle of scotch and keep the change, if any.
Now, perhaps you'll tell me what the bloody hell's going on.
Don't know what you mean. You followed me from prison... when I was released with some cock-and-bull story about prisoners' aid.
You bought me an expensive meal and, uh... gave me a fiver for services which I didn't render.
I was only trying - I know what you were trying, and don't bloody well interrupt.
Just wait until I've finished. Do you mind?
You're used to waiting, aren't you?
On street corners.
Look here, Leamas. Ever since I tried to help you, you've done nothing but insult me.
I only want to make it crystal clear that although I'm prepared... to accept insults from him in private, I - I'm not prepared to be insulted... in front of somebody I admire and respect and -
If that's what you want.
Now perhaps you'll tell me why you had that, uh, queer pick me up.
By all means. I told him to.
As a fellow member of the Link, I'm interested in you.
I want to make you a proposition.
A journalistic proposition.
Journalistic. I see.
I run an agency - an international feature service.
It pays well.
Very well for interesting material.
Who publishes the material? Oh, international clients.
I have a correspondent in Paris who disposes of a good deal of the stuff.
Often I don't even know who does publish, I confess.
I don't awfully care.
They pay promptly.
And they're happy to pay into Swiss or Scandinavian banks... for instance, where nobody seems to bother very much about things like tax.
They'd even make the check payable to your pen name, if you had one.
They'd have to pay a hell of a lot.
They're offering a down payment of £15,000.
The money's already lodged in the Banque Cantonale de Berne.
On the production of suitable identification, with which my clients will provide you... you can draw the money.
And my clients will assist you with any... resettlement problems that may arise.
How soon would you want an answer? Now.
Of course, you're not expected to commit all your reminiscences to paper.
You'll meet my client, and he'll arrange to have the material ghostwritten.
Where would I meet him?
We fly to the Hague tomorrow morning at 9:45.
I'll drive you anywhere you have to go to pack.
No, you won't.
Leamas, at this stage, I can't afford to turn you loose on London.
I'm afraid you'll have to. Why?
Oh, well, I, uh - I don't want the girl implicated.
Do you have to see her?
Well, she - she has my suitcase.
We'd prefer to pick it up ourselves.
You can prefer what you like.
I didn't ask you how many lumps because I remembered.
I didn't ask why you came 40 minutes late - my goulash had turned solid - because you came.
There's only one thing I really want to know, Alec.
Whatever happened to your pajamas?
Oh. [Chuckles] They should be in Gravesend by now.
I threw them into the Thames.
Have you come into money?
Well, buying a whole bottle of whisky instead of your usual half and - well, flinging your pajamas in the river.
I have another pair in my suitcase. Chocolate brown with, uh, white piping.
Like a cake. Mmm.
And not tasting of prison.
Was it - Was it awful?
Why do they have to have, uh, disinfectant... that smells even worse than the stuff they're supposed to disinfect?
And, uh, why do they give you back your personal belongings... as if they'd been sanctified by the archbishop of Canterbury?
With this ring, I do thee wed.
With this brown paper parcel...
I, uh, return thee to society.
They returned you to me. I'm very grateful.
So grateful I cut tonight's Party meeting.
Oh. Oh. Well, thank you for putting me above history.
Whisky or Dão? Dão.
I have to go away early tomo - tomorrow morning.
I could tell.
I'll be back.
[Airplane Engines Roaring]
[Woman On P.A. Speaking Dutch]
How long are you staying in Holland, Mr. Thwaite?
About two weeks, until the conference finishes.
You know your passport lapses in 18 days?
I'll be back.
Bitte. Thank you.
[No Audible Dialogue]
Welcome, Leamas. You had a good voyage?
It was all right. Thank you, Carlton. You can take the car.
How about you? Just coffee.
Is it always just coffee?
What are you anyway? Who are you?
What's your name?
I'm a professional man.
All right. They've sent a professional. Fine.
So we can cut out the tricks and games.
We both know our job.
You've got a paid defector on your hands. That's me.
Date of birth?
August the 25th, 1924.
In Sawley, Derbyshire.
Ronald Arthur, born 1901.
Kathleen Olive, maiden name Cantley... born in Ireland, 1905.
What was the date and method of your recruitment?
1943, September the 14th.
The War Office advertised for linguists. I applied.
That's where I began.
That's where I ended.
So you came back from Berlin, and they put you in Banking.
What were your duties?
Signing checks for other people. Concealed payments. Paper.
What were your exact duties?
Paying agents. A letter would come from Finance.
"The, uh, payment of 5,000 Swiss francs... to such and such an agent is authorized by so-and-so."
So I'd sign the check or get the bank to make a transfer.
Which bank? Blatt and Rodney.
A chichi little bank in the city.
There's a theory in the service that Etonians are discreet.
So you knew the names of British agents all over the world?
No, I signed a blank check. The name of the payee was secret.
Who knew then? Who kept the names?
Special Dispatch. They, uh, added the name and mailed the check.
So you just provided a signature.
A false signature.
After 18 years in the service, my sole contribution.
Did you make regular payments from Banking Section?
Rolling Stone. That was all. Quarterly.
What did that involve? Opening accounts at two foreign banks.
Where? On what dates?
Copenhagen, the second week in April. The 12th, I think. Yes, the 12th.
Where else? Helsinki.
That was earlier - February the 29th.
What kind of money? Oh, it was big. Very big.
$50,000 to Copenhagen...
100,000 deutsche marks to Helsinki.
You opened the accounts in false names? Yes.
And you called the operation Rolling Stone. That was a cover name?
If it was a clandestine payment, why did it have to have a cover name as well?
Orders. Whose orders?
Control. He chose the cover name.
Shall we continue indoors?
You want to write it down, don't you? Don't know what you're looking for.
Scratching around in the dust.
I'll start again.
One. Leamas crosses Danish border on his own passport.
Two. Leamas collects cash from innocent bank.
Three. Leamas goes to second bank... with a false passport under the name of Woolrych.
Four. Leamas opens joint account, same as married couple does, in two false names.
One was my own alias, Woolrych. The other was the alias of my partner.
Your partner was in this case the agent who would later collect the money.
Brilliant. What was the agent's alias?
Werner Ziebold. Werner...
How did you get a specimen of Ziebold's signature?
Special Dispatch gave it to me.
All right. Go on, please.
Nothing to go on about. That was it.
The joint account was opened. Only two people could draw on it.
And within a week or two, no doubt... the mysterious Mr. Ziebold went to the bank and drew his money.
I never knew when. I never knew why.
I never damn well cared. By that time I hated the lot of them -
Control, those damned old pussycats chewing their wine gums. [Knocks]
I hated - Come in.
Excuse me, Herr Peters. This came by special messenger.
They're looking for you in England.
They don't say anything. They just want you.
You're missing, and the police want information.
[Exhales] I shall have to make a telephone call.
[Door Opens, Closes]
We have to leave.
Holland is not safe for you anymore. We have to go at once.
The discussion will be continued later.
What do you mean go?
Go where? East. Where else?
My passport lapses in 18 days.
Your passport is an embarrassment already.
You did it, didn't you?
Your people leaked it in London.
You want to get me out of Holland in some cozy workers' paradise... where you can keep me safe and warm.
I don't want that. Give me my money. I'll go now. Just give me my money!
You have not yet earned the money.
Besides, if you go now, you will be caught within 48 hours.
So precisely what do you propose to do about it?
[Footsteps Approaching] [Doorbell Rings]
Yes? Miss Perry?
Yes. My name is Smiley.
I'm a friend of Alec Leamas.
A close friend. We worked for the same firm in Berlin.
Here's my business card.
I assure you I'm quite respectable.
You mean you want to come in? Please, if it's not too late.
Aren't you? No.
I didn't have any drink with my supper. [Chuckles]
I didn't have any supper with my drink.
Will they start in on me right away? I don't know.
If they have any sense, they will wait until your head is clearer.
Who will I see? Fiedler.
Whose room is that? Fiedler's?
No. He is in the east wing.
[Chuckles] Very appropriate.
When will he come?
In his own time.
Do you think he's good at his job?
For a Jew.
You're tired. We'll talk in the morning.
You will be wakened at 6:00. Please be ready at 7:00. We can't waste time.
You have the transcript of his first interrogation?
It's still locked.
They are Mundt's quarters.
He's away for a while.
When will he be back? In a while.
Doesn't tell you much, does he? He tells me what he needs to.
Mundt was a Nazi, wasn't he?
He was a member of the Hitler Youth... as a boy.
Now he's a grown-up Communist.
He's what I would call... available.
Like you. Shall we begin?
Let me start by asking you an amusing question.
Let me start by asking you one. Make you laugh your head off.
Where's my money? When can I go wherever - wherever home is?
Carlton's gone home, Peters has gone home. What about me?
The agreement was - Agreement? You've broken the bloody agreement.
And, barring miracles, you've broken my bloody neck too.
The agreement was that I should be interrogated for two weeks in Holland, paid... and allowed to slip quietly back to England without anyone knowing I'd ever been away.
And nobody would have known if you hadn't broken the story.
Just who the hell do you think you are?
How dare you come stamping in here like Napoléon, ordering me about!
You are a traitor. Does it occur to you? A wanted, spent, dishonest man.
The lowest currency of the cold war.
We buy you, we sell you, we lose you, we even can shoot you.
Not a bird would stir in the trees outside.
Not a single peasant would turn his head to see what fell.
Besides, we didn't tell London.
We were thinking of using you again so we didn't tell them. You're wrong.
As for the money, you'll get it when you've given us the information.
The better you talk, the sooner we pay.
So far your information is useless.
Cheap peddler stuff. Nothing.
Shall we try a little harder?
It's not a question of trying.
I told you what I know.
Make your own deductions.
Let's make some deductions together.
What would you, as an experienced intelligence officer... deduce from the few facts you gave us about Rolling Stone?
Then let me offer my conclusion first.
Control himself was running an agent.
He paid him, christened the operation, personally supervised the case.
Do you consider that fanciful? It's possible.
Can you deduce the nationality of Control's agent?
How could I? How could anybody?
Who chose the name Ziebold? Who chose it?
Control. A German alias, and Control chose it?
I wonder why.
So what? He could still have been a bloody Tibetan.
Oh, come on, Leamas.
You don't give a Tibetan a German alias... if you want him to be able to visit a bank inconspicuously... and draw out large sums of money!
You give a German alias to a German. And what kind of German?
If Control ran him, an East German.
And if Control ran him... somebody very, very big.
Do you see what I'm after?
Your last agent was Riemeck. Karl Riemeck.
I never had a chance to interrogate him. Mundt shot him.
How did you first approach Riemeck?
We didn't. He approached us. Offering what?
Offering a roll of microfilm which, when we developed it... turned out to contain photographs of the minutes of a weekly meeting... held by the Praesidium of the East German Communist Party.
After that the information got better and better. Never handled stuff like it.
Did it ever occur to you to ask him how he got his information?
Why the hell should I? He worked in the Praesidium.
Did Control ever ask you how you got it? No.
Did Control meet Riemeck? Yes, once.
I was against it for simple security reasons, but, uh, yes, he did.
Control came to Berlin last spring.
He asked to meet Riemeck to, uh - to thank him.
Were you present at the... thanksgiving?
Of course I was. I introduced them. But were you present all the time?
No. I introduced them, and then I left.
Control insisted on that? He wanted to be alone with Riemeck?
Yes. Suppose it gave him a kick.
How long were they alone? Five minutes, 10 minutes.
What are you trying to prove?
I'm not at the proving stage.
You're going down a blind alley, Fiedler.
You forget I ran the Berlin station.
I ran all the agents in East Germany.
If Rolling Stone had been an East German agent, I'd have known about it.
He couldn't function any other way. You're wasting your time.
I ran all the agents in East Germany.
Karl Riemeck was the last.
Would you like some fresh air?
What are you going to do with the money? Oh, I don't know.
Settle down in some sunny spot on the Caspian... with one of your flaxen-haired discus throwers.
I can't go home.
Don't you mind giving up your country? What the hell's my country done for me?
I worked for the service for 18 years and they kicked me out as if it had been 18 minutes.
Why did you work for them? Well, the money.
Only money? It was a job.
You would have done it anywhere, for anyone?
I'm a technician, Fiedler. Just a technician.
But not a Communist technician. Oh, for God's sake.
A Christian, then. I don't believe in Father Christmas.
I don't believe in God or Karl Marx.
I don't believe in anything that rocks the world.
But how do you sleep? You have to have a philosophy.
I reserve the right to be ignorant. That's the Western way of life.
I couldn't have put it better myself.
You think ignorance a valuable contribution to world knowledge.
You fight for ignorance. Go to hell.
Look, all I want to know is why. What's the motor?
As a matter of fact, I invented the combustion engine and the two-way nappy.
I'm a hero of the Soviet Union. I wear the Order of Lenin on my rump.
I'm a man, you fool. Don't you understand?
A plain, simple, muddled, fat-headed human being.
We have them in the West, you know. That's what it's all about.
Is that why you became a spy?
Look, your job and mine permit us to take human life.
If I want to kill you and I can only do it by putting a bomb in a restaurant... then that's the way I'll kill you - that's what I'll do.
Innocent people die every day. They might as well do so for a reason.
Afterwards I may draw up a purely academic balance -
20 men killed, 15 women, nine children, and an advance of three yards.
What about you?
If ever I have to break your neck, I promise to do it with a minimum of force.
Now, when do I get my bloody money? Look, I could lie to you.
I could say you get your money in a month just to keep you sweet.
But I'm telling you I don't know, and that's the truth.
You have given us indications.
Until we have run them to earth I can't think of letting you go.
But afterwards, if things are as I think they are... you'll need a friend.
You're bustling about bloody early.
Is Mundt back?
I want you to sign something.
The courier's waiting.
Letters to the banks in Copenhagen and Helsinki... asking for a statement of any recent withdrawals by your two partners.
The letters will be mailed from Switzerland.
Where will the bank send the statements?
To one of our accommodation addresses in West Berlin.
Control will find out that I've written.
He'll have forgotten by the time you next meet.
Will you sign with your aliases, please?
Let me have the pad.
Here you are.
The Copenhagen letter.
The Helsinki one's easier. I wrote it in my own handwriting.
Within a week we should at least know the dates... when Rolling Stone was last in Copenhagen and Helsinki to draw the money.
Is Mundt back?
Until we hear from the banks there's nothing more we can do.
We shall be constantly in one another's company.
If that's distasteful to you I apologize.
I thought we could go for walks again... or drive around in the hills for a bit while we talked.
Incidentally... we have some facilities here for people who - for people who are spending some time with us.
Facilities for diversion and so on.
You offering me a woman? Mmm.
I don't need one.
You had one in England, didn't you? The girl in the library?
Oh, yes, yes. She was a Communist too. She believed in free love.
At the time it was all I could afford.
Morning, Mr. Lofthouse. Good morning, Miss Perry.
You're at the J's already.
You are settling down quickly.
I was so very happy the job fell vacant.
We're very happy you applied for it.
Good morning, Miss Crail. Good morning, Miss Perry.
Miss Crail. Yes, Miss Perry?
Would it be possible for me to take my holiday now?
I've been invited to spend a week in Germany.
You have, uh, friends in Germany?
No, not exactly friends. Comrades. Oh.
You know I'm secretary of the local branch of the Communist -
I've never held that against you, Miss Perry. This is a free country.
I know. I know, and I'm very grateful.
Well, uh, the Party center has arranged a series of exchanges... to promote cultural amity and world peace... and I've been chosen to exchange with the secretary of the Neuenhagen Branch... outside Leipzig.
Isn't Leipzig east, behind the curtain?
I should very much like to go, Miss Crail.
I'll speak to Brigadier Blantyre... but I think I'd better just tell him Germany, not East.
He doesn't hold with the Russians.
[No Audible Dialogue]
Blonde or brunette?
Do you know Mundt? Well, we have talked about him.
He shoots first and asks questions afterward. The deterrent principle.
It's an odd system in a profession where the questions... are always supposed to be more important than the shooting.
It's an odd system unless you are frightened of the answers.
That telephone call. Yes? What about it?
The money in Copenhagen. The bank answered your letter.
The manager's very worried that there has been a mistake.
The money was drawn by your partner exactly one week after you paid it in.
The date it was drawn coincides with the two-days visit Mundt... paid to Copenhagen in April.
The same goes for the bank in Helsinki. Mundt took the money from there too.
You're out of your bloody mind. I've told you again and again they couldn't have done it.
London couldn't have run him as their man without my knowing about it.
You're trying to tell me that Control was personally directing and operating... the head of counterespionage in the Abteilung... without the knowledge of the Berlin station?
Well, I'm telling you you're mad!
Shut up... and drive us home.
You have driven us home, Leamas. Mundt is a traitor.
I tell you, they eased his escape from England.
London let him go because they wanted him to go.
They found him, bribed him, turned him - I tell you, they couldn't have done it!
Control couldn't have run him without my knowledge. You're mad!
Don't tell me you're that sorry to kill Mundt.
I suppose you ought to write to the banks and tell them everything is quite in order.
Comrade Fiedler? Yes?
We want to talk to you.
What do you want?
We are from Berlin.
Go to your room.
[Man] Come in.
Close the door.
[Leamas Groans] [Thuds]
[Keys Rattling In Door Lock]
[Door Opens, Hinges Squeaking]
Take him upstairs.
London sent you, didn't they?
Under arrest, as you are... for conspiring to sabotage the security of the people.
You'll be a witness at his trial.
We shall want your confession.
That means you don't have any proof. We shall have proof.
We shall have your confession.
Who sent you?
No one sent me. They're looking for me, don't you know?
When did you last see Smiley?
I've never met Smiley.
Where did you go after lunch with Ashe?
I haven't the vaguest recollection.
I had two scotches and half a bottle of punishing Greek wine.
All I remember is wandering about -
[Mundt] In a taxi.
Was I in a taxi?
Our man reported you took a taxi outside the restaurant.
Where did you go in the taxi?
I told you, I... was too drunk to know that I was in a bloody taxi.
I mean, if your man followed me, why don't you ask him wh-wh-wh -
[Mundt] Did you go to Smiley's house in Chelsea?
I don't know S - I don't know Smiley.
[Mundt] Why did you shake off your followers?
Why were you so keen on shaking them off?
Hans Dieter Mundt, I have a warrant for your arrest... by order of the Praesidium of the German Democratic Republic.
[Woman] You all know why we're here.
This is not a trial, but a tribunal convened expressly by the Praesidium... and it is to the Praesidium alone that we are responsible.
The proceedings, therefore, will be secret.
We shall hear evidence as we think fit.
Comrade Fiedler, you may begin.
You can see from the report I've already given you... that we ourselves sought Leamas out in England... induced him to defect and finally brought him to our republic.
Nothing could more clearly demonstrate the impartiality of Leamas than this - that he still refuses, for reasons I will explain... to believe that Mundt is a British agent.
It is therefore grotesque to suggest that Leamas is a plant.
The initiative was ours... and the fragmentary but vital evidence of Leamas provides only the final proof... in a long chain of indications reaching back over many years.
You will see on page seven... that in 1959...
Mundt was posted to London... ostensibly as a member of the East German Steel Mission.
Actually, he was engaged in intelligence duties.
In the course of this, he killed a man.
By doing so, he exposed himself to countermeasures... by the British Secret Police.
Since he had no diplomatic immunity - for NATO Britain does not recognize our sovereignty -
Mundt went into hiding.
Ports were watched.
His photograph and description were distributed throughout the British Isles.
Yet after two days in hiding...
Mundt takes a taxi to London Airport and flies to Berlin.
Brilliant, you will say, and so it was.
With the whole of Britain's police force alerted... her roads, railways, ship and air routes under constant surveillance...
Mundt, in British eyes a dangerous political murderer... takes a plane from London Airport and flies to Berlin.
Or perhaps you may feel, comrades, with the advantage of hindsight... that Mundt's escape from Britain was a little too brilliant... a little too easy... that without the connivance of the British authorities... it never could have been possible at all.
The truth is this -
Mundt was taken prisoner by the British... and released on condition that he become their paid agent.
It is beyond all doubt that he was paid through the medium... of the banking operation called Rolling Stone... whose procedure you will see fully described in Annex "A" to the report.
Leamas played an unwitting part in this operation.
Bring the witness forward, please.
What is your name? Alec Leamas, assistant librarian.
You were formerly employed by the British Secret Service, were you not?
Is it your opinion that they could have recruited Mundt as their agent?
No, it is not. How can you be so sure?
I've told you a dozen times. I'm not a performing seal.
I was head of the Berlin section for nine years.
If Mundt had been our agent, I'd have known about it. I'd have run him, don't you see?
Not to know would be an administrative impossibility.
In 1960 you had, in your capacity as Berlin station head... approached and recruited the late Karl Riemeck... formerly secretary to this Praesidium.
He approached me.
With microphotographs of secret Praesidium documents?
Was his later work for you equally spectacular?
More so. He gave us a complete breakdown of the Abteilung. Control was delighted.
Control was so delighted that he actually came over to Berlin to meet Riemeck.
Did you approve of that? No.
Riemeck was my man. Control should have left him to me.
That was the rule. Control broke it.
You introduced him but were not present at the meeting.
That is correct. And they were entirely alone?
How should I know? I wasn't there.
What do you think Control said to Riemeck?
Uh, well, he wanted to thank him, so he told me, and give him a medal.
Can you tell the tribunal how Riemeck obtained his information?
I never bothered to ask.
Then you may sit down and I will tell them.
Who, in 1960 -
The year after Mundt escaped from England, remember.
Who co-opted Riemeck onto the Committee for the Protection of the People... that vital committee which coordinates all of our security measures?
Who proposed that Riemeck should be appointed secretary to the Praesidium... with access to all its secrets?
Who, at every stage in Riemeck's career since 1960... has singled him out for posts of exceptional responsibility?
The same man who was uniquely placed to shield Riemeck in his espionage activities -
Hans Dieter Mundt.
Mundt, by deliberately raising Riemeck to higher and higher posts... made it possible for him to amass all that information... which he passed on to Leamas.
Mundt, Riemeck, Leamas, Control. That was the chain of communication.
But Leamas never knew... for it is a rule in intelligence technique the whole world over... that each link of the chain be kept as far as possible in ignorance of the others.
Leamas never knew that Mundt was London's man.
Then why did Mundt kill Riemeck... if Riemeck and he were both working for the British?
He had no alternative. Riemeck was already under our suspicion.
If I had been given the chance to interrogate him...
I could have incriminated Mundt.
But I was not allowed to interrogate him. Mundt shot him.
He killed the bird before it could sing.
Had it not been for the defection of Leamas, Mundt might be practicing his treachery still.
There is your saboteur. There is your terrorist.
There's the man who has sold the people's right.
When you come looking for your recommendation to the Praesidium... do not shrink from recognizing the... full bestiality of this traitor's crime.
For Hans Dieter Mundt, death... is a judgment of mercy.
[Woman] Comrade Karden, you are speaking for Comrade Mundt.
You have heard the accusations of Comrade Fiedler.
Do you wish to examine the witness Leamas?
Yes, I should like to in one moment.
The contention of Comrade Mundt is that Leamas is lying... and that Comrade Fiedler, either by design or ill chance... has been drawn into a plot to disrupt the Abteilung... and thus bring into disrepute the organs for the defense of our people's democracy.
We do not dispute that Karl Riemeck was a British spy.
There is evidence for that.
But we do dispute that Mundt was in league with him... and we dispute that Mundt accepted money for betraying our democracy.
For these charges we say that there is no objective evidence... and that Comrade Fiedler is intoxicated by dreams of power... and blinded to rational thought.
We maintain that Leamas was dismissed from the British Secret Service... so that he should exhibit those symptoms of, uh, physical and moral decline... which would deceive our London agents into thinking he was a potential defector.
But we also maintain that once our London agents had contacted him... he was used by Control as a weapon... indeed as a spearhead in Control's plot... to incriminate Comrade Mundt.
But Comrade Fiedler, on whose ambitions the British so accurately counted... accepted the evidence as true... and thus became party to a monstrous plot to destroy - to murder, in fact... for Mundt now stands to lose his life... one of the most vigilant defenders of our democratic republic.
[Sighs] I said vigilant... comrades.
For do you really suppose that all this time Comrade Mundt has been in ignorance... of Fiedler's feverish plotting?
It was Mundt who took one crucial precaution... while the British, with Fiedler's aid, planned his murder.
He caused scrupulous inquiries to be made about the witness Leamas.
He was looking, you see, for one minute human error... in a scheme of almost superhuman subtlety.
Now, Mr. Leamas...
let us see whether we can assist Comrade Mundt in his search.
Do you still refuse to tell us where the taxi took you after your lunch with Ashe?
I don't refuse. I don't remember. I was too drunk.
Not too drunk to pay the taxi. Too drunk to remember.
But you paid. I wonder what with.
Whatever small change I had in my pocket. I'm like that when I'm drunk.
Are you a man of means? Don't be bloody silly.
You know I was broke when Ashe picked me up.
Except for your taxi money. If you say so.
Then, now that you have paid your taxi we may take it that you have no money at all.
Until you pay me for my services, you may.
You cannot imagine that some kindly benefactor... someone perhaps you have almost forgotten about... would ever concern himself with a donation to your next of kin... or settling with your creditors?
Some friend. I haven't got any friends.
Do you know George Smiley?
Mundt asked me that.
You are being asked it again.
I knew of him. I never met him.
He was not a close friend of yours?
I never met him. I haven't got any friends.
Is, uh - Is that all?
Yes, that is all.
You see, we too have a witness.
[Woman] Let the witness come forward.
[Woman] What is your name, child?
What is your name?
You are a member of the British Communist Party?
Yes. [Leamas] Leave her alone.
[Woman] If he moves again, take him out.
He can speak later, if he wishes.
Nancy... have you been told in the Party of the need for discipline?
Today the reason for this tribunal will be a secret from you.
You will have to answer questions without knowing why they are asked.
But who's on trial?
It can make no difference to you who is accused.
It is a guarantee of your impartiality that you do not know.
Is it Alec? Is - Is it Leamas?
Look at me, child, if you wish to go home.
Look only at who questions you.
If there is communication of any sort between the two witnesses... the man Leamas will be taken from the court and dealt with.
Comrade Karden, you wish to question your witness?
Alec Leamas was your lover, wasn't he?
Have you had many lovers, Nancy?
Karden, why don't you - Alec, don't. They'll take you away.
Yes, they will.
Have you any savings?
A little. How much?
A few pounds. My salary's pretty small.
How much is your rent?
Three pounds, 10.
Then why haven't you been paying it?
Why haven't you been paying it?
I own the lease.
[Karden] You own a lease?
Well, I mean, uh - I mean that someone bought it and sent it to me.
Who? I don't know.
It came from a bank, a bank in the city called Blatt and Rodney.
They said that some charity had done it.
I don't know.
How much was the lease?
Are you accustomed to receiving anonymous gifts of £1,000 from charities?
No, I-I-I thought -
I thought it might have come from him.
But Leamas has already told us that he has no money, only debts.
No, I-I-I mean - I mean from a friend of his.
[Karden] Which friend?
I-I don't know.
Did anyone get into touch with you after Leamas disappeared?
No. A friend of Leamas's?
A man with a mustache and spectacles?
Your house was watched, Nancy.
Who was he?
A lover? A casual lover like Leamas?
Alec wasn't a casual lover. But he gave you money.
Did this man give you money too?
Who was he? I think it was a friend.
A friend of Alec's. He - He wanted me to get in touch with -
How? How were you to get in touch with him?
H-He left a card. What was his name?
I-I don't know. It was a blank card?
No. I-It - What was the name on the card?
I don't know! I - I don't remember -
What was the name on the card?
Smiley was indeed Leamas's friend.
He was also a planner in the section called Satellite Four... which operates behind the Iron Curtain.
It was to Smiley's Chelsea house... that Leamas took the taxi after lunching with Ashe... and the plot to incriminate Comrade Mundt was set in motion.
The plot has failed.
All right, Karden, let her go.
She knows nothing. Nothing at all. Get her home. I'll tell you the rest.
Don't tell them because of me. She cannot leave the court until -
She knows nothing, I tell you! She cannot leave the court.
Karden is right.
It was an operation, an operation planned by London... in which I was to pose as a defector and give evidence to Fiedler... that would hang Mundt.
We counted on Fiedler, I must admit. We counted on his hatred for Mundt.
And why the hell shouldn't he hate Mundt? Mundt hates him.
As for the girl, she's nothing but a frustrated little thing from a crackpot library.
She's no good to you. Send her home.
What are you talking about, Leamas? Are you mad?
Are you out of your mind? Don't you realize what you are saying?
[Woman] Comrade Fiedler - Save the girl! Save the Jew!
Save my Christian soul!
Don't you realize what he has done?
He saved Mundt, and Mundt is London's man!
Comrade Fiedler will be held in custody.
[Woman] The hearing is closed.
The tribunal will make its report to the Praesidium.
Comrade Mundt is reinstated.
The man, Leamas, and the girl are under arrest.
[Footsteps Departing] [Door Opens]
[Door Lock Turning]
[Door Lock Sets]
So Fiedler was right. Yes.
Where's the girl?
By the car.
You hit the main road after 20 kilometers. Turn right.
As you enter Berlin you pass a signpost to Potsdam.
Turn right again. Go for four kilometers. The road's quite straight.
When you reach the canal, turn left and follow the water until you see three lights... hanging on a diversion sign.
The boy will meet you there. He's quite young, but he knows the Wall.
You'll never get away with it, you know.
What will they find in the morning? Empty cells, Leamas. Open doors.
Escaped prisoners. A car missing.
There's a conspiracy, you know.
I shall have to find the guilty ones, the accomplices.
Do you know where I shall find them? Amongst Fiedler's friends.
Why is he letting us go? He's letting us go because we've done our job.
Come on, get in. We haven't much time. For what?
Time to get to Berlin, to the Wall. To Berlin?
You and Mundt are enemies, aren't you?
What bargain did you make with him, Alec?
What's going to happen to Fiedler?
He'll be shot.
Why didn't they shoot you? You conspired with Fiedler against Mundt.
You said so in court.
Why did Mundt let you go?
All right, I'll tell you.
I'll tell you what you were never, never to know.
Mundt is London's man. He's their agent.
They bought him while he was in England.
We're witnessing the lousy end to a filthy, lousy operation to save Mundt's skin... to save him from a clever little Jew in Mundt's own department... who had begun to suspect the truth.
London made us kill him - kill the Jew.
Now you know.
God help us both.
You wait here.
Why did Mundt let me go? I'm a risk to him now.
As you said, it was a bargain. No you, no me.
What was my part in all this? I want to know.
You were a pawn in the plot.
London knew it was no good just killing Fiedler.
If he'd been killed, people would've started asking by whom and why.
Maybe he'd told friends he suspected Mundt. Maybe he'd left notes, incriminating notes.
London had to eliminate suspicion.
Public rehabilitation - that's what they organized for Mundt.
I was sent to discredit him. He was sent to discredit me.
We made it very easy for them.
They used us.
They cheated us both because it was necessary.
Fiedler was nearly home already.
If it hadn't been for us, Mundt would have been killed.
They were bloody clever.
All the way down the line they were bloody clever.
Clever? They were foul! How can you turn the world upside down?
What rules are you playing?
There's only one rule - expediency.
Mundt gives London what it needs, so Fiedler dies and Mundt lives.
It was a foul, foul operation, but it paid off.
What the hell do you think spies are?
Moral philosophers measuring everything they do against the word of God or Karl Marx?
They're not. They're just a bunch of seedy, squalid bastards like me.
Little men, drunkards, queers, henpecked husbands... civil servants playing cowboys and Indians to brighten their rotten little lives.
Do you think they sit like monks in a cell, balancing right against wrong?
Yesterday I would have killed Mundt because I thought him evil and an enemy.
But not today. Today he's evil and my friend.
London needs him. They need him so that the great, moronic masses you admire so much... can sleep soundly in their flea-bitten beds again.
They need him for the safety of ordinary, crummy people like you and me.
You killed Fiedler!
How big does a cause have to be before you kill your friends?
What about your Party? There's a few million bodies on that path.
There is a moving searchlight beamed onto the Wall where you are to climb.
Now, your signal to go will be when the beam stops.
As you near the Wall they will move the searchlight off that area... to conceal you from outside observation by other detachments.
Have the flanking detachments been briefed?
No. No, only the guard in the sector.
It would be too dangerous to arouse too much curiosity.
Here go slowly, please.
Uh, it's the next on the left.
Go through that small door. At the far end you will see the Wall.
First there is a barbed-wire fence.
There's a handkerchief to show you where you can go under.
The detachment have placed the emergency climbing irons in the Wall... to a height where you can stand, pull yourself and the lady over the top.
Through barbed wire? It has been cut.
If anything goes wrong - If you fall or get hurt, don't turn back.
They shoot on sight within the area of the Wall. You must get over.
Your friends will be waiting for you on the far side. Good luck.
[Nancy] Thank you. [Leamas] Go on.
Don't look back, Nan. Climb. Climb!
Nan! [Smiley] Jump, Alec!
[Man] Mr. Leamas! Go back, please!
To your own side, Mr. Leamas!