Give me 15 seconds.
Let's talk about it.
- Do excuse me. Wait here. - What?
Hello, Colonel.
- Blunt. - Fancy bumping into you.
- Haven't seen each other since... - I packed in the hush-hush.
Can't fathom a man giving it up for art.
Never trust a man who looks down his nose at art.
Although, looking down your nose, you arrive at your moustache and can't see much at all.
- Are you trying to be funny or insulting? - Insulting.
I'd finished in hush-hush, so I packed it in.
Finished what?
Passing the name of every MI5 agent onto the Russians. Good to see you, Winter.
- About now, he should be telling Liddell. - If Liddell trusts us.
- He does. - As a Cambridge man.
If every security issue goes through Liddell, he'll block anything awkward.
- We're safe. - Liddell the road block.
Anthony Blunt's been passing the names of our agents to the Russians.
What?! Says who?
- What? - Says Anthony Blunt.
He told the Colonel.
Pompous fool, Winter. Wouldn't spot a tongue in a cheek in a million years.
- Fool. - He wants me to pass it to the headmaster.
- Will you? - Of course not. Make me look an idiot.
- Moscow is pleased. - Good.
Donald Maclean has been posted to Washington.
Stop telling me what I know and tell me what you want to say.
You and Mrs. Maclean are friends.
She likes you.
- I want you to suggest something to her. - What?
That she spends some time in New York with her family.
Maclean needs to be run by our best man, and he's in New York,
so Maclean will have to visit New York.
- A wife in Manhattan is perfect cover. - But you need her to agree.
We think you might be in a position to persuade her.
So how's married life?
I bet she knows the difference between cottage pie and shepherd's pie
and can quote from all of England's best-loved poems. Am I right?
Have you married someone who irons your underpants?
Do you think it's possible to love two people at the same time?
I think it's possible to be two people at the same time.
I'm scared, Kim.
- Why? - I'm pregnant again.
- Why does that scare you? - Donald.
It's hard enough for him as it is.
Becoming a father, having a child, will make it harder still.
Do you forget sometimes which is which?
The real and the secret?
Your question assumes that the two are not the same thing.
It might be an idea for you to spend some time apart from Donald.
- He'd hate it. He's drinking a lot... - I'm thinking of you, Melinda.
Why don't you have the baby in New York?
Be with your family. Donald can come over from Washington at weekends.
You're very kind to me.
Am I safe, Kim?
People like me - wives and outsiders - we're not supposed to know,
and if we do know, we're a threat, aren't we?
Moscow doesn't know.
Why not?
I haven't told them.
That's a kind of betrayal, isn't it?
It's the first time I've lied to them.
I should go.
What's the difference between cottage pie and shepherd's pie?
Cottage pie is beef, shepherd's pie is lamb.
- Do you believe in ironing underpants? - Absolutely.
What is this?
''Stand the church clock still at ten to three...''
''And is there honey still for tea?''
Lights out.
- You're highly regarded. - Thank you.
So alongside attending all those interminable Embassy drinks parties,
I want you to do an important job for me.
Yes, Ambassador.
Secretary to the Joint Policy Committee on Atomic Development. The bomb.
The bombs.
Make it your bag, Donald. I want a good Brit among the Yanks.
We should know everything they know. I'm not sure they agree.
- Right. - Be aggressive about what you want to know
and listen hard.
I won't have the Yanks getting possessive about it.
- Come for a drink on Saturday. - I can't, I'm afraid.
Oh, yes. Wife in New York. Good idea.
Wives and work should be kept separate.
Or do I mean wives and life? Yes, I think I do.
Life on the one hand and wife on the other.
(WOMAN GROANS)
Will it be long?
(GROANING)
- Could we have a minute alone? - Yes.
I want us to have a new start. I'm going to tell them I can't do it any more.
- Don't make promises you can't keep. - I'm going to do it.
I want a normal life.
I want to look after my son and not feel that half of me's absent.
I have to go.
Do you?
I'm going to tell them it's over.
There's something I want to say. My wife had a baby today.
Let's make the world a better place for him.
How do you know it's a boy?
You're our most important agent. If we could send flowers, we would.
Your appointment to the Joint Policy Committee on Atomic Development -
you think you might access the Atomic Energy Commission?
- It's nuclear physics, for God's sake. - Listen, Homer...
Please stop the spy stuff. Homer? It's ridiculous. You know my name.
I thought agents weren't supposed to know their codenames.
- We can help you with nuclear physics. - An evening course?
We have man inside weapons program - a physicist. He can tell you everything.
- Then, get him to bring what you need. - He doesn't have your access.
So a spot of nuclear physics with my work at the Embassy, my new baby,
the Embassy social whirl, keeping my wife happy and my run-of-the-mill spying.
America has weapons that could destroy Soviet Union.
We do not have same weapons.
There are those inside US Government who advocate using these weapons.
This is most dangerous time for our cause.
You are very important. We care about the stress you are under.
But in the scheme of things, forgive me for seeing your personal problems as secondary.
You have something personal with you - a photograph or something?
Need a guide?
- She is beautiful, your wife. - Yes.
Are you married?
They tear all our loved ones in half.
- Does she know about what you do? - She is dead.
- I'm sorry. - Committed suicide.
Strange term - ''committed suicide.'' Like a crime.
She killed herself because she couldn't stand to live in a world with the Nazis.
Her suicide was an act of profound moral principle, not a crime.
Donald Maclean.
- We're not supposed to exchange names. - No. Against the rules.
Klaus Fuchs.
- You lived in Germany? - Ja.
I came to America in 1939 along with most of the German scientists I knew.
Our gift to my new country has been the bomb.
I have some glue. You can stick your beautiful wife back together.
By the time she is dry,
you will know everything you need to know about nuclear physics.
- He's in New York. - She's back in Washington.
- You know what the whisper is? - What?
- What's the whisper? - That Donald's got a mistress in New York.
- Really? - Where did you hear that?
An ''intelligent'' friend.
Hello, Melinda.
Don't let me interrupt. Go ahead, what were you saying?
We were just...gossiping.
I love gossip. What's the gossip? Something exciting?
- This and that. - This and what?
Let me in on it. I can see you're dying to tell.
Go on. What's the matter? Mouth a bit dry?
Lips dry too?
Here, have a drink!
Melinda. Lost none of your balls, I see.
- It's easy when everyone around you's so... - British?
- You still learning from the Brits? - They taught me nothing.
And you know everything?
I'm Head of Counter-Intelligence in the new agency - the CIA.
Your own acronym. I'm impressed.
Are you going to tell me what that limey did or do I need to impress you some more?
No.
- No to which question? - Both.
See you later, James Jesus Angleton.
(MELINDA) Darling?
Where is he, upstairs?
(BABY GURGLES)
- How was the party? - You haven't told them, have you?
You'll never tell them you want out.
It's too important, Melinda. What I'm doing.
More important than him growing up with a father who lies for a living?
- That's not fair. - No. You're right.
You're out there changing the world.
I have to put up with a little humiliation because the future of mankind is at stake.
Humiliation?
They think you're in New York fucking another woman.
Do you know how that feels?
Do you know how unbelievably humiliating that is?
- It's really hard, Melinda. I need you... - Hard for you. Hard for you!
I so badly wanted to tell them - he's not fucking another woman,
he's in New York fucking you all! Fucking the entire country, in fact!
The irony is I threw a glass of wine in a diplomat's face to protect your honor!
Our honor! Which no doubt makes all of them think they're right.
You do have a mistress.
I've given you the perfect cover. Why else would she be throwing wine about?
America is being run by dangerous, paranoid maniacs.
They have the bomb, they have the enemy and the power.
It makes them capable of anything. I'm working for his safety, his freedom.
But where is us in all of this?
Where is our life? Where is our family?
I want our life back.
Just give me a little time.
I don't believe you. I don't believe you'll get out.
One of our planes operating a long-range detection system
tracked a suspicious cloud over the Pacific.
They got an air sample - it's radioactive.
The radioactivity and the position of the cloud suggests one thing...
Oh, my God.
The USSR tested its first atomic bomb, probably the day before yesterday.
Years early. Our intelligence was saying at least two years...
I know what our intelligence was saying!
- There must be a leak. - Atom bomb spies.
I've had two-thirds of my stomach removed due to ulcers.
I'm planning on keeping the rest of my stomach.
- No more ulcers. - Find the leak. Plug it.
(RADIO ) The President wants all Americans to know
that we have evidence that recently an atomic explosion occurred in the USSR,
"Remember this day" - "the day the USSR" tested its first atomic bomb,
the day the world changed, the day the world got much colder,,,
During the war, we found a KGB code book in Finland.
Roosevelt made us send it back.
- To our Soviet ally. - And we did, but we copied it first.
By itself, the code book is useless...
Cut the crap and give me the beef!
The only copies of the pads they used to decipher this are in KGB HQ in Moscow.
- If Moscow uses them only once... - Fuck the pads! Give me the damn beef!
- We can read parts of their coded messages. - And what have we got?
Sections of a scientific report written from inside the Manhattan Project.
- Author? - We're working on it. Won't take long.
Anything else?
- Something sensitive. - It's all sensitive! Spit it out!
What we've decoded seems to tell us that there's a mole inside the British Embassy.
Seems to? Do you have a name?
- Only his Soviet codename. - Homer.
And one clue.
Homer has family in New York.
Family in New York? Then he must be an American employee.
In the kitchen probably.
- Somebody downstairs. - A cleaner?
Or maybe a commis chef?
Leave it to me. We'll root out Homer.
Will you be looking upstairs as well as downstairs?
Why should we do that? Upstairs is beyond reproach, Angleton.
All that complacency and smugness. I can't stand it!
''Upstairs is beyond reproach.''
I have some good news.
We've confirmed who was leaking from inside the Manhattan Project.
A German Jew called Klaus Fuchs.
- Bloody hell! - Darling?
- I don't know where the photograph is. - Photograph? What photograph?
It's of you. I can't remember where we put it.
Jesus Christ.
What? You want my money? Why don't you just bloody say it?
The money, mister.
Hey, hey! Get outta here!
He's under a lot of stress. There's a new baby and a new job.
- Yes. - Yes.
Melinda, if there was something else, it would be a good idea to tell me.
Why do you think there might be something else?
Well, how can I put it?
Donald has a very solid, very reliable forehand,
but he has another side to his game.
A heavy slice on his backhand and lots of disguise on his lob.
I'm sorry?
Well, he has you - his wife - and he has a mistress.
That's what people are saying. Have you...?
I preferred not to ask.
No, no. Quite. Too painful.
I understand.
- You're sending him home? - He needs it.
Slapped wrists and a ticket home for being a violent lunatic?! You can't do it!
It's done. He's on his way home now.
Unbelievable.
The carpet in this office? Wall-to-wall. Only it isn't.
There's a loose corner. Far side of the room - furthest from the door.
You can lift it right up, sweep anything you choose under it.
Knowing what to sweep under the carpet is the art of diplomacy.
- How's the Homer investigation? - We're halfway through the waiting staff.
- It's been weeks, for Christ's sake! - Methodical is best.
Why not look from the top down at the same time as the bottom up?
Traitors don't come from the top. Not in England.
I'm all yours.
My hush-hush days are over.
You no longer work for MI5?
They're princesses. Do you think they're going to ring up the ''Daily Mail''?
Are you tired, Charles? I'll take you up.
- There, there. - Hello.
- Terrific ears for a young chap. - Yes.
So... Any skeletons, Anthony? Anything you wouldn't want the ''Daily Mail'' to know?
No.
You're fond of the princesses, particularly Margaret?
Very.
Pity about your married quarters going missing.
- Ma'am? - Your downstairs arrangements.
Ladies, so I'm told, are not permitted to show an interest in Anthony's Percy Pointer.
Not even princesses.
Any other vices you'll be prepared to lie to me about not having?
I don't consider the modus operandi of my Percy a vice...
I don't do Latin, Anthony.
''Honi soit qui mal y pense'' is as far as I go. Drink?
Thank you.
You didn't answer my question about vices. You rather swerved it.
Um... I used to be quite keen on Marx.
- Groucho? - The other one.
- Harpo, the deaf one? - Karl, the bearded one.
- Boils. - Lots, apparently. On his married quarters.
No, on his bottom. Another country altogether.
So... You're a homosexualist, a lapsed Marxist...
And I'm related to you.
You and me, Anthony. Two queens in a pod.
You and I, ma'am.
There's a married Group Captain sniffing about Margaret.
Oh, dear.
Poor Margaret's completely blinded by his twinkle.
I know I can trust you to keep this to yourself.
I would never betray a member of the family.
Spotted dog. Or is it dick? Language changes so quickly, one can't keep track.
Plates.
Anyway, it's spotted.
- Reminds me of school. - Reminds me of school.
- Reminds me of school!
- Custard? - Oh, yes, please!
Oh, my dog's on fire. Or is it my dick?
- Talking of my dick... - It's Bird's custard.
Alfred Bird, 1811 to 1878. His wife suffered from a terrible digestive disorder.
She couldn't eat anything made with eggs or yeast, so no custard,
but she loved custard so her husband experimented
and came up with a new custard made with cornflour and milk. Bird's custard.
People think of it as inferior, cheap, a substitute. It's not.
It's made with love.
I've got some news. It's not official yet, but I can tell you.
The Philbys are going to Washington. Kim is replacing Donald.
Pity you and Donald won't have time to catch up.
Nor you and Melinda.
- Delicious custard. - Bought or made?
(KIM) You must stay with Donald, you know that?
(MELINDA) I take it from you. I take everything you say and do it.
It's a relief to be told what to do.
Be strong. Help Donald and you'll be helping me.
- You wouldn't use me, would you? - Use you?
No. God, no.
It's a relief to talk to someone who means what they say.
I couldn't stand it if I didn't have that.
That's the first time you've touched me.
The question you asked - can you love two people at once?
The answer's no.
We'll be moving into your house in Washington.
Mr. and Mrs. Philby in Mr. and Mrs. Maclean's house.
And because the answer's no, I'm not going to try.
I'm going to be Mrs. Maclean.
The Americans are deeply unreliable.
McCarthy and his witch-hunts, the FBI/CIA rivalry. Everyone's a Communist.
We mustn't catch the disease. Paranoia's crippling.
The Homer investigation. I want to do it properly. My way, our way.
- I'll go over the waiters and cleaners. - Has to be the place to look.
We have to keep our feet on the ground.
Just because the Yanks are jumpy, doesn't mean we have to be.
I'm glad you're here, Kim. Safe pair of hands.
By the way, we've got a new man joining us.
Bit of a cove, apparently. Guy Burgess?
It's against the rules to have fellow agent in your house,
Look, I'm going to be C. I'm going to be head of MI6,
and Moscow will know everything in British Intelligence.
I won't jeopardize it by letting Burgess run amok.
He's going to live with me. End of story.
It'll be fine. What can he do?
- Mmm. - Guy lives in the spare room.
- It's an arrangement that works well. - You didn't invite him tonight?
- Separate lives. - (DOOR SLAMS)
- Hello. - Hello, Guy.
Care to join you? Yes, I fucking well will, actually.
The wifely hand on the husband's arm.
''Darling, get him under control or goodness knows what he might do.''
- Guy. - Kim.
- Darling... - Darling, please, really.
- Guy. - Kim.
What happened, Burgess?
I got beaten up by a keen theatregoer, Angleton.
Why?
In England, when one is having a piss at a urinal
and eight urinals either side are unoccupied
and a man comes in and doesn't piss seven urinals away or three urinals away,
but stands right bloody next to you, it means something.
But when he starts up a bit of a chat about new writing in the theatre,
it means ''Bugger me'', frankly.
But not here, it would seem.
Apparently, in this appallingly friendly country, it means nothing of the kind.
It means what it is -
passing pleasantries in a public lavatory in the middle of the night.
What happened?
I asked him to say hello
to Great Britain's answer to Enola Gay.
- Do you know the story of Bird's custard? - We're going home!
- James... - I'll be back for my car in the morning.
I don't believe in drinking and driving.
A little touch of Harry in the night.
Does it feel like the night before Agincourt?
- We've come a long way together. - 20 years.
It still burns. Belief.
In the belly.
D'you think we'll be all right?
You didn't answer my question.
- Are we going to be all right? - The dominoes going...
When one of us falls, he knocks the next one down.
The second knocks the third man down and the third, the fourth.
We stand or fall together.
I think you could think about that, Guy.
Guy?
''The poor condemned English.
''Like sacrifices by their watchful fires,
''sit patiently and inly ruminate the morning's danger.
''And their gestures sad, investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats,
''Presenteth them under the gazing moon...
''So many horrid ghosts.''
Lord Halifax, we're down to four and none are downstairs. Homer is upstairs.
In the spirit of co-operation between our countries, we thought we'd help.
Are you saying that Philby has been slow?
What do you think this is? A game of chess? It's real life.
Things happen because of people like Homer.
People die. Freedom is threatened. It matters!
Stiff upper lips and decorum and good manners can go hang!
Down to four?
Here's the list of names.
I'd be grateful if you kept them to yourself.
No one else should see it.
(DOOR CLICKS)
Gore-Booth. Jendrell...
Neame.
Maclean.
They're down to four. Homer is one of four. Maclean is on the list.
I see.
What the hell are you going to do about it?
What?
The longer the inquiry goes on, the greater the chance of connecting you to Homer.
- You are very valuable to us. - What are you saying?
You could be about to become best-placed agent we have ever had.
Having you as C would be more useful than anything in our history.
If we need to make sacrifice to protect you, it should be made.
- What are you saying? - Homer is burnt out.
You're saying I should sacrifice Donald?
If you help bring inquiry to conclusion, you and our cause would be better served.
- Give Donald up. - Give Homer up.
His name is Donald Maclean.
I won't do this. I won't.
You know I'm right. You might be angry but you know I'm right.
He hasn't been Donald Maclean for years. He is Homer.
And Homer is lost.
Hello.
- What do you think? - Is it safe?
I haven't finished. It will be safe, I promise.
- Penny for your thoughts, Kim. - My thoughts are more expensive than that.
Homer.
- What about it? - We were down to four.
Now we're down to two: Paul Gore-Booth, Donald Maclean.
They both have family in New York. They were both on the Embassy staff.
The Russian for ''Homer'' is ''Gomer''.
It's a near anagram of Gore.
Will you excuse me? Nature calls.
Philby's known Maclean for years.
The British Intelligence Service works like a gentleman's club.
They look after each other because they wear the same tie. Ties are everything.
Philby's pointing us towards Gore-Booth. Philby doesn't know Gore-Booth.
I think we've got our man.
So... Middle of the night, a house call? What's the story?
- There are two men who might be Homer. - Gore-Booth and Maclean.
Both have family in New York. Both were in the right place at the right time.
Yes.
- Gore-Booth is short, dark, smart. - Yes.
Donald Maclean is a tall, fair Scot with bohemian tastes.
So?
Some years ago, a KGB man called Walter Krivitsky tried to defect to the West.
Murdered in a Washington hotel.
Before he was murdered...
he gave us a taste of what he could offer.
He told us there was a spy in the Foreign Office.
He didn't give a name, just a description.
What was it?
Short, dark, smart?
A tall, fair Scot with bohemian tastes.
- I know who Homer is. - Maclean.
- How did you...? - Philby told me.
The British beat you to it after all.
- I've had concerns about Philby. - Well, that's the end of them.
Kim Philby is on the side of the angels.
The Devil was an angel.
Don't tell me you're a sore loser, James?
Philby got there first. He shopped Maclean.
What kind of a traitor would shop another traitor? Close the door on the way out.
I played tennis with him.
Do it our way. I don't want the Americans all over this.
- Private grief. - It's a huge shock to us all.
I'll contact London.
He was a friend of yours.
- Yes, he was. - I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
We're worried he won't go, leaving his son.
And his wife.
- Hard to leave happy family. - Are they happy?
That's what I'm told.
He needs an escort. Someone needs to go with him.
Drink up,
Now get in your car. You're going home, Guy.
- How? - Bad behavior gets you sent home.
Shouldn't be too hard for a man like you.
White picket fences.
(MUSIC: HANDEL'S ''MESSIAH'')
God bless America.
White picket fences, apple pie, Shirley Temple.
The Ku Klux Klan, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, the CIA.
White Sox, bobby socks, rednecks.
God bless America. String up those niggers!
Fry them Communists!
God bless America! Land of the Free!
(SIREN WAILS)
- Burgess is being sent home. - Why?
- He invented his own un-American activity. - I can imagine.
- It was planned. - What do you mean?
- Maclean needs escort. - To Southampton?
To France?
Philby's valuable, you are valuable.
- We think we can keep you safe... - Moscow?
- You want Guy to go too? - He doesn't know and he mustn't know.
- He thinks he's going to France. - You want me to lie?
- Reassure him. - Lie!
- He's burnt-out case. - He's my best friend!
Maclean gets the 5.19 from Charing Cross every night.
The man in the hat and coat with the briefcase and the brolly.
- I've always had my concerns. - I don't want a ''told you so'' speech now.
- Let's put a tail on him. - We've had a directive from above.
- What? - No tails at weekends.
- It's a money problem. Saves on overtime. - What?
- What?! - We'll pick him up on Monday.
He has no reason to suspect we're onto him. Let him come into the office as normal...
then swoop.
- You should get a coat. - I've got this one.
Channel crossings can be chilly, and St Malo's a cold place.
Nothing as cold as Cambridge, remember?
Permanently the 19th February.
I'd like to go back.
There isn't time, Guy.
No.
One or two places as cold...
- ..as Cambridge. - One or two.
I'll buy you a coat. I'd like to.
You should have a good coat.
(HORN HONKS)
- You all right, sir? - I'm fine.
- You sure you're all right? - I'm fine, thank you.
Winter? I think I saw Guy Burgess. Here in London.
You know he's here? Why didn't you tell me?
Christ! Why would he come back now?
It's too much of a coincidence. He's been living with Kim Philby
and Philby will know we're pulling Maclean in. Bloody hell!
I think Maclean's going to go - make a run for it.
- Can't find my copy of ''Middlemarch''. - Borrow mine.
- I'll let you have it back as soon as... - When you can.
I know. I know.
(URGENT KNOCKING)
(KNOCKING)
The house could be bugged, We'll have supper, talk about nothing,
- You and I will go out, drive to the pub. - I see.
My name is Roger Stiles for the purposes of supper and the benefit of the bugs.
- I'm an old school friend. - Do you think it'll hold?
The swing? Looks like it.
I should test it. Do you mind?
Did you put the swing up yourself?
Two lengths of rope, Roger, and a piece of wood.
A couple of holes in the wood, feed the ropes through,
and tie the ends with really good knots.
Knots that will never slip or come undone. Good strong knots.
Good for a lifetime.
How about a nightcap at your local?
Good idea. Good idea.
- How much further? - A couple of minutes.
Where are you going, Daddy?
- Just out. I'll be back. - Why is Mummy crying?
- Mummy isn't crying. - Mummy isn't crying.
Up to bed, lovely boy.
Up to bed, darling.
- Bye, darling. - Bye, Daddy. See you in the morning.
- Where the hell are we now? - I don't know the actual house.
Best to ask in the pub.
I wish it were not dark. I wish we could see the English countryside.
Is he here?
Where is he? Melinda, where is he?
Can I use your phone? I have to use your phone!
He's sleeping. My son - he's asleep.
I won't have you wake him.
- Hey, what about the car? - Back Monday!
Keep looking.
There. England.
England.
(''ODE TO JOY'' BY BEETHOVEN)
Out of my way! He's gone. Maclean's gone.
- Guy's gone too, hasn't he? - I don't know. How would I know?
No, of course. You're only friends.
Yes. Only friends.
(DOOR SLAMS)
(HE WEEPS)
- Mr. Blunt, isn't it? - Yes.
- How are you, sir? - All right.
- And your lot? - My lot?
Let me see now... Burgess, Maclean, Philby. Have they all gone on to great things?
I don't know.
- Lost touch? - Yes. Lost touch.
All gone.
Great things?
Yes... Yes.
They all went on to great things.
(CHOIR SINGS) And did these feet in ancient times
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon,,,