FREE PREVIEW

RICHARD McGINLAY and ALAN HAYES

Illustrated by Shaqui Le Vesconte

HIDDEN TIGER

DR BRENT’S CASEBOOK - AN UNAUTHORISED GUIDE TO POLICE SURGEON by Richard McGinlay and Alan Hayes

(Free Preview)

© 2017 Richard McGinlay and Alan Hayes All rights reserved

This publication is unauthorised and is not endorsed by StudioCanal or other rights holders of Police Surgeon. No link to any such organisation is claimed.

The rights of Richard McGinlay and Alan Hayes to be identified as the authors of this work have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

A Hidden Tiger Book www.hiddentigerbooks.co.uk www.facebook.com/HiddenTigerBooks

Other Hidden Tiger Titles: Two Against the Underworld – The Collected Unauthorised Guide to The Avengers Series 1 by Richard McGinlay, Alan Hayes and Alys Hayes

Avengerworld – The Avengers in Our Lives A Charity Anthology edited by Alan Hayes

Requiem for Sherlock Holmes by Paul Stuart Hayes

The Theatrical Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle with William Gillette

Fury From The Deep – A Relic of the Old Time by Alan Hayes

BOOK CONTENTS (Items in red are featured in this Free Preview)

Preface – Police Surgeon

“A low-key show about social misfits!” – The Rise of Police Surgeon

Police Surgeon Episode Guide Dr Brent’s Quick Prescription Episode 1 – Under the Influence…? Episode 2 – Lag on the Run Episode 3 – Easy Money Episode 4 – Sunday Morning Story Episode 5 – Smash But No Grab Episode 6 – You Won’t Feel a Thing Episode 7 – Wilful Neglect Episode 8 – A Home of Her Own Episode 9 – Three’s a Crowd Episode 10 – Diplomatic Immunity Episode 11 – Man Overboard Episode 12 – Operation Mangle Episode 13 – The Bigger They Are ABC Christmas Pantomime: Alice Through the Looking Box

“You just can’t win, can you?” – The Fall of Police Surgeon

“Give the police surgeon the night off” – The Legacy of Police Surgeon

Police Surgeon Appendices Appendix I – Merchandise Guide Appendix II – Chronology Acknowledgements

Dr Brent’s Casebook contains 14 illustrations by Shaqui Le Vesconte

“I’m only here as your doctor… The legal rights or wrongs don’t concern me. There may be other questions to be answered, but mine are strictly medical. I don’t call the police – the police call me.”

GEOFFREY BRENT ‘Operation Mangle’ by F. Woodlands

PREFACE

POLICE SURGEON

In the space of a few short months in 1960, Police Surgeon was created, produced, transmitted and then cancelled before the year was out. Today, it is referred to, almost without fail, in terms of its position as predecessor and progenitor of The Avengers rather than being looked at with regard to its own merits. Its single surviving episode, Easy Money, which was repeated in the United Kingdom on 28th March 1992 as part of Channel 4’s TV Heaven strand and released on home video as a special feature on an Avengers DVD set in 2009, contains sufficient promise to suggest that the series was distinctive and almost certainly worthy of a longer run than it was granted. The authors of this book have spent eight years researching the first year of the British television series The Avengers, which, due to its poor representation in the archives, had long been a mystery to fans of the show, most of whom had never seen the greater majority of its episodes. Our investigations led to the publication of two books: The Strange Case of the Missing Episodes, which was released in 2013 and reconstructed the narratives of the lost Series 1 episodes, and With Umbrella, Scotch and Cigarettes, which looked at the same series from the perspectives of production, transmission and response and was issued in 2014. These books were deleted in November 2015 and reissued as a single volume entitled Two Against the Underworld (now in its second edition following the unexpected recovery in 2016 of a previously lost episode, Tunnel of Fear). During our researches for the second book, we inevitably looked into Police Surgeon for reasons exclusively due, we are sorry to say, to its association with The Avengers. However, this modest little series, about which so little was known, began to fascinate us. It seemed to be exactly our sort of thing – a neglected show that was mostly shrouded in mystery apart from that repeated first episode – and we quickly realised that it was deserving of more attention than it had hitherto received. As the information we amassed about the series grew and grew, far beyond our expectations, it became clear to us that Police Surgeon merited a book of its own. Hence we present Dr Brent’s Casebook, with apologies to Dr Finlay! Dr Brent’s Casebook comprises five sections, the first of which details the series’ birth. This essay documents the events that began with the creation of Police Surgeon and ended with the broadcast of its debut episode. The largest section in the book concerns the episodes of Police Surgeon themselves, with the continuing production process being dealt with in relation to their transmission. As a ‘lost show’ with only one of its original thirteen episodes surviving, it is not always possible to present information in as much depth as with better represented series – but we have endeavoured to incorporate as much detail as we can. Much of this information has not seen the light of day since the programmes were originally broadcast. The guide is presented in production order, which is quite different from the sequence in which the series was transmitted. This section concludes with a chapter on Alice Through the Looking Box, a programme which aired on Christmas Day 1960, and featured the final television appearance of Ian Hendry in his guise as police surgeon Dr Brent. Following the guide format used in Two Against the Underworld, we present cast and production credits, air dates, working titles and other information for each episode. Within this section you will also find the following subsections:

• Incident Report… A detailed plot description is provided for each instalment. The narratives of eleven of the thirteen episodes of Police Surgeon are presented in depth, as scripts for these are known to exist and have been consulted during the writing of this volume. It is worth noting that these scripts are rehearsal scripts – the version of the script that was prepared for the actors and production team to work with when rehearsals began. They are therefore probably not as accurate a representation of the final productions as camera scripts or as- broadcast scripts would have been. Our comparison of the surviving episode Easy Money to its own rehearsal script reveals just how much a story could change during its rehearsal process. Occasionally, we have deviated from the script when evidence from sources such as photographs or TV listings indicates that a change took place. Such revisions are noted within the episode guide. The remaining two episodes and Alice Through the Looking Box, the content of which can only be gleaned from brief descriptions in contemporary listings, press coverage and, in the latter case, a familiarity with the works of Lewis Carroll, are reported on in as much detail as is possible in the absence of more comprehensive surviving materials.

• Archive… This is where we list the materials that are known to survive for each episode in terms of scripts and film elements. In each instance, we note the organisations which hold these materials. It is worth noting that the scripts held by the BFI can be viewed by appointment at the BFI Southbank.

• Production Brief… From pre-production planning and rehearsals through to recording, transmission and beyond, this subsection has all the hard facts about how the shows were put together.

• Field Report… Though the episodes under discussion were largely videotaped, studio-based productions, there is evidence that the cast and crew did on rare occasions venture out of doors to shoot material on location. Such excursions are detailed here.

• Personnel File… Under this heading, we present biographical information or notes pertaining to behind-the-scenes movers and shakers and notable performers.

• Matters Arising… This is where we state our observations regarding the episode in question and raise various points of interest, such as the historical context in which the stories took place and thematic links between them.

• Mentioned in Dispatches… We also make reference to coverage in the press and wider media, either in terms of reportage and reviews concerning specific episodes, or promotional features published to tie in with the show’s transmission.

• Collateral Damage… Sometimes things did not turn out quite according to plan, and while we hold Police Surgeon in great esteem, we can’t ignore its occasional shortcomings. Timings given for the surviving episode are based upon the British DVD edition issued by Optimum Releasing – readers with videos or DVDs from other sources may notice a small variation. Of course, many production gaffes have been wiped from the records along with the shows themselves, though the scripts for the missing episodes also contain occasional howlers of their own.

• Verdict… Each chapter is rounded off with a brief review of the episode.

We would ordinarily also report on the programme’s viewing figures, as recorded by Television Audience Measurement (TAM). However, despite claims being made in the press that Police Surgeon performed well in this respect, the series never broke into the regional or national Top Tens. In the absence of data regarding positions outside these charts, we have chosen to report generally rather than on an episode-by-episode basis. After the episode guide, there is a second essay which documents the events that led to the series’ cancellation. This is followed by another feature which considers Police Surgeon’s legacy and how it led to the creation of The Avengers.

We compare and contrast the two shows, commenting upon how the former influenced the latter and how faint echoes of Police Surgeon can even be detected in subsequent ABC series. The book concludes with appendices comprising a guide to Police Surgeon- related merchandise and a helpful chronology of the dates and events documented in this volume. Dr Brent’s Casebook has been compiled with reference to original ABC scripts, contemporary magazines and newspapers, and photographic materials. We are especially grateful to the BFI Reuben Library and the National Film and Sound Archive of Australia for granting us access to the eleven scripts known to survive from the series. We are also indebted to the prior researches of Avengers and general television historians, and the production personnel who have kindly assisted us in our venture. Readers will notice occasional quotations from reference books, biographies and periodicals, as well as emails and letters we have received, and we make a point of crediting these sources in such instances. Police Surgeon may not have been the hit that The Avengers grew to become, but there is more than enough of interest in even the sole surviving episode of the series – including some surprising foreshadowing of its illustrious successor – to make the writing of this book worthwhile. The fact that we’ve been able to cast a light upon the lost episodes of this series makes it all the more valuable, we feel. It is our tribute to Police Surgeon’s creator, Julian Bond, who sadly left us in 2012. We think you will agree that his creation is a worthy subject for our case study…

Episode Guide

Episode 2 LAG ON THE RUN Written by Julian Bond

Working Title: Small World

ABC Production Number: 3341 Tape Number: VTR/ABC/764 Production Order: 2nd / Transmission Order: 3rd

INCIDENT REPORT

Act 1

The sign on the door reads “SURGEON’S ROOM”. It is one of two key locations in the Bayswater area where Geoffrey Brent practises medicine – the other being his own surgery. The door is opened to reveal Brent’s latest patient, Jean Young. Smartly attired in a pleated minidress cut just above the knees, the girl sits on the doctor’s couch, idly swinging her legs. They are rather good legs. There is a small bloodstain on the top of her dress, and she has a temporary dressing over a wound to her temple. The doctor himself is nowhere in sight. Jean glances up at the man who has just entered the room. It is Inspector Landon. He asks how she is feeling. She tells him she’ll live, and asks him for a light for her cigarette. As Landon fumbles for a match, Jean jumps down from the couch and crosses towards him. It is a studied walk, at once insolent and inviting. She comes closer to him than she needs to be and steadies his hand as it proffers a match.

JEAN: All of a tremble. Fancy.

Having lit her cigarette, she blows out the match, laughs shortly, and then crosses abruptly to pick up her handbag. She wants to know if she can go home now. Landon advises that she should wait for the doctor to arrive, assuring her that he won’t be much longer. Besides, her statement is still being typed. Jean tuts impatiently. This delay is costing her money. Unless, of course… She gestures to the couch invitingly. Landon retreats rapidly. He steps out into the general office of the police station, embarrassed by both Jean’s suggestion and her laughter ringing out behind him. He looks sharply around the office.

LANDON: What are you grinning about, Thomson?

PC Thomson has taken time off from his typing to observe the Inspector’s discomfiture. His grin quickly disappears.

THOMSON: Nothing, sir.

He resumes typing, straight-faced. Landon comes over to inspect his work.

LANDON: I’ll give you something to grin about if you don’t have that statement ready soon.

THOMSON: (Seldom daunted) It’s all go, you know, sir.

LANDON: You could always take classes in shorthand typing.

Landon turns away to the main entrance, to greet a new arrival.

THOMSON: (Sotto voce) Do you mind?

Brent has just come in. He is better dressed than usual, wearing a brilliant white shirt, ‘good’ suit and his best tie. Not that he dresses like a slob normally, but this is clearly more than his usual working rig. He collects Landon on his way to the surgeon’s room.

LANDON: Evening, sir.

BRENT: Inspector. (To Thomson) Still at the old two-finger exercise, Thomson? Before the force is through with you, you’ll make a wonderful secretary for someone. (To Landon) What is it tonight?

LANDON: (He puts the word into inverted commas) ‘Hostess’.

BRENT: Charming. And the charge?

LANDON: Nothing against her, sir. Seems one of her clients gave her a going over.

BRENT: Bad?

LANDON: Looks nasty. We bodged it up as best we could, but I thought you ought to have a look at it.

The doctor nods. He is just about to go into the surgeon’s room when Landon stops him, and asks whether he has a handkerchief. Brent does, but he wonders why his colleague wants to know. What is this, a hygiene inspection? Landon rubs the side of his own mouth indicatively. Brent wipes his with the handkerchief, removing traces of lipstick. He gives a little smile.

BRENT: Well, I had to apologise for leaving the party early, didn’t I?

LANDON: Quite, sir. I just didn’t want this one to get the wrong idea about you, that’s all.

Brent thanks the Inspector as they enter the surgeon’s room. Brent passes Jean to wash his hands at a sink as introductions are made. Landon remains by the door. He asks Jean if she consents to being examined by the doctor.

JEAN: Let’s see.

Jean looks Brent up and down appraisingly. He isn’t the least bit disturbed by her scrutiny.

BRENT: Finished?

JEAN: I’ve seen worse.

BRENT: Do you or do you not consent to being examined by me?

JEAN: Oh, I thinks so. Nasty suspicious mind you’ve got, haven’t you?

Brent shrugs.

BRENT: Routine precaution.

JEAN: Be a rich girl, I would, if I’d brought a case against every man that’d interfered with me.

As the doctor inspects her injury, Jean asks whether Landon has to remain. Brent explains that the presence of an observer is another routine precaution, but she could have a female officer present if she prefers. Jean declines the offer. If she has to have an audience, let’s at least have one in trousers. Brent asks her to sit in a chair. He has prepared some lint, cotton wool, a bandage and a bowl with antiseptic in it. Brent asks her about the attack, his question a mixture of professional interest and genuine compassion. Jean sighs. Does she have to go through all that again? Landon recaps Jean’s earlier statement. She had taken a man home, but as soon as they were inside the flat he had set about her, and stolen some money. Brent asks if it was a regular customer. No, explains Jean, it was a first-timer. This sort of thing happens to most of the girls at some time. She suddenly cries out as the antiseptic stings. Brent apologises.

JEAN: Anybody’d think you were trying to finish where he left off. Dirty so-and-so. He could’ve killed me. And I was in two minds

about going home on my own. Just goes to show. Well, cheer up. It’s not fatal, is it?

Brent is of the opinion that a trip to hospital is required – a few stitches in Casualty. Jean is worried that she will end up with a scar. Brent tries to reassure her. She should be able to conceal it to an extent with make-up, and it is pretty close to the hairline. Jean baulks at the idea of growing a fringe. That’s not her style at all.

JEAN: Shame he didn’t make a job of it, really. I’d have had to have left the game alone, then, wouldn’t I?

BRENT: You could always leave it of your own accord.

JEAN: And do what? I’ve got expensive tastes, remember.

BRENT: It’s your life.

JEAN: It is, isn’t it, eh?

Brent finishes bandaging the wound. As he starts to clear his things away, he points out to Landon that it would have taken more than just a fist to leave a cut as deep as that. Landon asks Jean if the man had used a weapon. She doesn’t know. She’d just turned away from him to kick off her shoes, and the first she knew about it was when he’d taken a swipe at her. She’d only made a few quid, and now that’s gone. Landon wonders whether the man might have used a knuckleduster. Brent doubts it. The area of the wound is quite small. Then Jean remembers – he was wearing a ring.

JEAN: A dirty great big ring on his right hand. Silver it was. Done up like a… what are they called…? You know, all bones but human.

BRENT: A skeleton.

JEAN: That’s it. I remember spotting it when he was paying off the taxi. Thought to myself then, “He’s a cheerful sort of sod, he is.”

It seems likely to Brent that the cut was caused by the ring. Landon points out to Jean that she did not include this in her statement. She argues that she meets a lot of different people in her line of work. She’d go potty if she had to remember

everything about each and every one of them. Abruptly, she steps out into the general office to revise her account. Landon and Brent follow. Jean approaches Thomson, who is still tapping away at the typewriter. She is surprised that he hasn’t finished yet. The service round here is chronic, she opines. Landon tells Thomson to add “silver ring in the shape of skeleton on right hand” to the description. Thomson looks appalled – this could mean retyping the whole document! Brent comes to the rescue, suggesting that he could type the addition in the margin and Jean could initial it. Landon agrees. Thomson is relieved. He resets the machine and makes the correction. Now finished at last, he removes the page and the carbon paper behind it, handing the top copy to Landon. The Inspector glances through it, then passes it to Jean. He invites her to check it and sign it. Jean reads back the description. Tall, dark-haired, clean-shaven, black monk shoes, blue reefer jacket, and the ring – that’s him alright. While Thomson shows Jean where to sign the statement, Landon admits to Brent that he doesn’t like blokes beating up women in his manor. This is hardly surprising to Brent, but he points out that there isn’t much to go on. Apart from the ring, that description could match countless individuals. Landon jokes that if the doctor should happen to run into the man, he might care to mention it to the police. Continuing in the same vein, Brent agrees to do just that. With the statement signed, Landon offers to have the station’s area car run Brent home and then drop Jean off at the hospital. Brent suggests visiting the hospital first – he can hand the patient over to the sister and ensure that she is looked after properly. Jean thanks him sourly. Landon is somewhat more appreciative.

LANDON: If your… party’ll wait that long, sir.

BRENT: She’s well trained. Goodnight, Inspector. Thomson.

LANDON: Night, sir.

THOMSON: Night.

JEAN: Well, ta-ta all. (To Brent) You know what? Makes a change for me to be going out the station the front way.

As they leave, Landon studies the statement again. He and Thomson doubt that much will come of it, but they’d better issue the description in any case. The following afternoon, in one corner of a modest little newsagent / tobacconist’s shop, Mrs Dews and her daughter Molly are busy stacking the latest

deliveries. The shop bell rings and a customer comes in. Molly goes to the serving area to attend to him. He wants to buy some cigarettes – a hundred. Molly is delighted to take such a sizeable order, but the customer doesn’t seem so happy. He appears anxious to complete the transaction as swiftly as possible. Mrs Dews joins them, attempting to strike up a conversation. She hasn’t seen this customer before, has she? The man does not respond to her queries. He slaps a five-pound note down on the counter to pay for the cigarettes. Molly asks if he has anything smaller, but he doesn’t. She fears that they don’t have enough change. The man bluntly suggests that she had better go and get some, then. At this point, Molly’s emotions override her customer service role – she won’t be spoken to like that. Mrs Dews steps in. Attempting to defuse the situation, she sends Molly out to get some change from the shop next door. She apologises for the girl’s attitude, explaining that she is not quite herself today. The man ignores these overtures. He moves over to a revolving book-stand in the middle of the shop while he waits for his change. Mrs Dews is wondering how best to proceed when the shop bell rings again. She is relieved to see that this time it is a familiar face. It is Dr Brent, on his way to his evening surgery.

MRS DEWS: Hello, Doctor. The usual?

BRENT: Please.

MRS DEWS: Where’s she put them steps now? Oh, there they are. (She makes an opera of reaching the carton on the shelf) We’re not as young as we used to be.

BRENT: How’s Molly?

MRS DEWS: Still having a lot of trouble with her… you know.

BRENT: I thought those pills’d have helped. You’d better bring her into the surgery again.

MRS DEWS: I’ve been meaning to and all. But we’ve been that busy one way and another. Still, I will bring her in, I will really. You look ever so tired yourself, Doctor. Still doing all that police work, are you?

Over by the book-stand, the other customer freezes. He recovers, returning a book to the stand, taking care not to draw attention to himself.

BRENT: Now and again.

MRS DEWS: Thought so. I heard them run you home in the early hours this morning, didn’t I?

BRENT: Probably.

With a degree of relish, Mrs Dews asks if it was anything nasty. Brent, who never discusses police cases, replies blandly that it was nasty enough – and then reminds her about his cigarettes, which she seems to have forgotten about.

MRS DEWS: Oh! Aren’t I awful? Mustn’t hold you up, must I, or you’ll be late for your surgery.

Brent hands over his payment. Mrs Dews is just giving him his change when Molly returns from next door, carrying a considerably larger amount of money. Brent turns to hurry out of the shop, collides with Molly, and a heap of silver goes flying. The immediate reaction of the other customer is one of anger at Brent’s clumsiness – but he quickly restrains himself. At all costs he must avoid making a scene. Brent apologises, and stoops to help the man retrieve his change from the floor. Several half crowns are wedged under the counter. Brent starts picking them up. Then he stops. He has noticed the other man’s hand retrieving the coins. It has a ring on it. The ring has a skeleton design. Brent rises. A moment later, so does the other man. He becomes aware of Brent’s scrutiny. The man fits the description, such as it was, of Jean’s attacker. Brent breaks the silence by handing over the change he has collected, as casually as he can manage. The other man takes it and exits rapidly. Mrs Dews asks Brent if he knows the man. Preoccupied, the doctor mutters that he doesn’t, then recovers himself and bids the women goodnight. He leaves the shop. Molly turns to her mother.

MOLLY: Ooh, he was rude, Mum, honestly.

MRS DEWS: In the air tonight. The doctor didn’t hardly pass the time of day with me. Let’s get on with stacking this lot, shall we?

The man is moving away down the street. Brent watches him from a distance. The man looks back, then hurries round a corner. Brent climbs into his Morris Minor Traveller, and follows.

His quarry runs up the steps of a terraced house. As he closes the door, Brent’s car draws up across the street. He leans across in the car to make out the house number: 37. He scribbles it down on a prescription pad, then looks down at the pad thoughtfully. Inside Number 37, a hand moves the net curtain aside to reveal Brent’s car parked opposite. As the car pulls away, the man at the window brings up his left palm, and drives his right fist into it. The skeleton ring glints in the now fading daylight.

Act 2

Entering the consulting room of his surgery, Brent throws his prescription pad down on the desk. The note on the top sheet reads, “37 Enders Street”. Brent approaches the desk and sits down. He drums a tattoo with his fingers as he studies the pad. In addition to the desk, the room is furnished with a comfortable chair each for both doctor and patient. There is a tall anglepoise lamp on the floor, and a sink plumbed into the wall. Brent’s desk is at a 45-degree angle to the walls, with a window to his right and several shelves of hefty medical books to his left. There are two doors. The one Brent has just come through leads to a corridor, which accesses the front door and his own home. The other, which is slightly ajar, leads to a waiting room. Adjacent to this door is a large medicine cabinet, covered with frosted glass panels. Paintings of relaxing landscapes are dotted here and there, affording the room a more personal touch, and there is a vase of chrysanthemums on one corner of the desk, to Brent’s left. On the right of the desk is a telephone. Coming to a decision, Brent reaches for the phone – but he is deflected by a knock on the waiting room door. Amanda Gibbs, his nurse and receptionist, enters.

NURSE GIBBS: I thought I heard you, Doctor.

BRENT: You’ve got the best radar in the business. Anything new?

A pregnant patient called Mrs Allen thinks her pains have started. Brent says he will visit her later. Anything else? He is somewhat surprised to be told that he has a full surgery already. Nurse Gibbs jokes that he should feel flattered to be so popular.

BRENT: I reckon it’s you they come to catch a glimpse of.

NURSE GIBBS: What? Mrs Biggs?

BRENT: Not again?

NURSE GIBBS: First in the queue. (She hands him a record card) I’ll show her in, shall I?

BRENT: If you must.

Since he is going to be busy, he asks the nurse to call Inspector Landon and ask if he could look in if he happens to be passing later. There’s just a chance that the doctor may have stumbled upon a particular needle he’s looking for.

NURSE GIBBS: Needle?

BRENT: You know. Needles in haystacks.

NURSE GIBBS: You do love riddles, don’t you?

The nurse sends in Mrs Biggs and departs – but not before giving Brent a glance of sympathy, which is tinged with playful malice. Mrs Biggs is a mountainous woman with a ridiculous hat skewered onto her head. It would be charitable to suppose that the bulging string bag she clutches accounts for her stertorous breathing. In fact, alcohol is to blame. She drops into the seat opposite Brent. Nurse Gibbs closes the door behind her.

MRS BIGGS: Thought you were never coming this evening. Thought you never were. I did, really. Still, you’re here, that’s the great thing. You’re here now, aren’t you? Tell you what, though. (She nods in the direction the nurse went) I don’t care for her a lot. Properly stuck up, she is. Not like the one you had last time. Still, it takes all sorts, I suppose. How’ve you been, then, Doctor?

Brent politely replies that he has been fine, but quickly turns the conversation to the reason for Mrs Biggs’ visit. She has had a fall and badly grazed her elbow. The doctor advises her to ease up on the stout and bitter. Last time it was her knee. One of these days she’ll really hurt herself. His tone is caring rather than condemnatory. He washes his hands and asks her to slip off her coat. After a bit of a struggle, she manages to release herself from her coat and bag. Brent smiles, and crosses to examine the graze. The wound is clean, so he proceeds to assemble a hypodermic. Meanwhile, Mrs Biggs argues that her accident wasn’t down to drink this time.

MRS BIGGS: It would have been our Golden Wedding today, if Biggs hadn’t been taken from me. I never had no more than one – to absent friends. And what with my mind on the past and the step being slippery… Well. The next thing I knew, the pavement had come up and hit me.

She notices Brent filling a syringe from an ampoule, and asks what it is. It’s an A.T.S. injection, Brent explains. Mrs Biggs rumbles with merriment. She’s a bit old for the A.T.S., she jokes – referring to the Auxiliary Territorial Service, the women’s branch of the Army during the Second World War. This is a different kind, the doctor explains – it stands for Anti-Tetanus Serum, to make sure she doesn’t get lockjaw from any dirt left in that graze. Mrs Biggs hates needles. She screws up her face in anticipation. Brent walks back to the sink, telling her it’s all over. He presses an electric buzzer on the desk to summon Nurse Gibbs. Mrs Biggs finds it hard to believe that he has given her an injection at all. She didn’t feel a thing, she claims, rather indignantly. Brent shows her the tiny puncture mark on her arm by way of proof. The nurse comes in, leaving the waiting room door open.

MRS BIGGS: You might have warned me. Suppose I’d yelled. Upset your other patients, wouldn’t I?

BRENT: Not really. The door’s soundproof. They wouldn’t have heard a thing.

Brent asks Nurse Gibbs to put a dressing on Mrs Biggs’ elbow. He will take another look at it once he’s seen his next patient. As the nurse leads Mrs Biggs away, she informs Brent that his next patient is a new one. Acknowledging this information, Brent returns to the sink, where he prepares the syringe for sterilisation and washes his hands again. Meanwhile, the next patient enters, closes the door behind him, and takes a seat. The doctor turns from the basin and finally sees the face of his visitor. It is the man from the shop. The man with the skeleton ring. There is an instant’s hesitation… and then Brent walks smoothly to his desk, as though nothing at all were amiss.

BRENT: Now then, Mr…?

DRAKE: I’ve got to talk to you.

BRENT: Quite.

Now convinced that this visit is no mere coincidence, Brent reaches for the buzzer.

DRAKE: Look – please – don’t do anything till you’ve heard what I’ve got to say.

BRENT: What did you think I was going to do?

DRAKE: I don’t know. Only… just don’t do anything, please. Not till I’ve had my say.

BRENT: Alright.

The man, Drake, doesn’t know what put Brent on his scent, but he knows that the doctor has been following him and has his address. But Brent looks like a fair sort of bloke to Drake. He wouldn’t shop him to the police, would he? Not without hearing his side of the story first. Brent says nothing. His silence drives Drake to talk – urgently, compulsively.

DRAKE: You see, it’s like this. I’ve been in a bit of bother, I don’t deny that. Well, I’ve been waiting, see? Waiting till I could get fixed up on a boat, find the money, get away. Well, I’ve got it sorted now. I can go tomorrow. After hiding out for a month, I can go tomorrow. Well, you’ve got nothing against me, have you? I’ve never done nothing to you, have I? Then, look, I’m begging you. Whatever you’ve got against me, don’t put them onto me. Not now. Not now I stand a chance of getting away. I mean, I’m not asking you to do much, am I? I mean, you don’t know anything, do you? All I’m asking you to do is to keep your suspicions to yourself, just for twenty-four hours.

BRENT: Why should I?

DRAKE: Why shouldn’t you? You’re not going to get any medals, are you, for putting the law onto me? Look, I’ve served three years. That’s enough, isn’t it? What have I ever done to you that you should want to put me back in the Ville for another three?

Brent is not concerned with what Drake did three years ago, but with what he did last night.

BRENT: You’ve never done anything to me, that’s true. What had a girl called Jean Young ever done to you?

DRAKE: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

BRENT: I’m talking about the girl you picked up last night. The girl who took you home. The girl you set about and robbed. And you didn’t even know her name. You might have taken the trouble to find that out, mightn’t you? Before you killed her.

Drake is stunned. How can he have killed her? He didn’t hit her that hard. Then he realises that he has given himself away. Brent thanks him for confirming his suspicion. He reaches for the buzzer again.

DRAKE: No, wait! I can explain that. Listen! Just listen a minute, please. I didn’t mean to hurt the girl. I didn’t, really. I’d been out for a month. And I hadn’t gone out with a woman. Not one. After three years I’d had a month out, and I hadn’t had a woman so much as smile at me. I had to lie low. Sneak in and out. Never talk to anybody. Not draw attention to myself, while they were fixing the getaway. Well, I went into this club – a near-beer joint. Just for one drink. Just one. And the lights. And a bit of company. And there was this girl. She smiled at me. It was wonderful. She didn’t pry. Just took me as I was. You know, chatted and smiled. I thought she liked me. I thought she really liked me. And then, the lousy rotten cow, she wanted money. Like all the rest. She wanted money. I just… But I never meant to hurt her. I never, really.

BRENT: The fact remains that you did. Not at all badly, but you did.

DRAKE: But you said…

BRENT: I know. I’m sorry. It was a cheap trick, but I had to make sure you were the right man.

Drake argues that the doctor cannot prove anything. Brent thinks he can prove enough. As it becomes clear that Brent intends to inform the police, Drake produces a knife. He doesn’t want to use it, but he has too much to lose. Brent remains perfectly still. His hand is almost at the buzzer. He knows he could press it before Drake had a chance to cut him, but what good would that do? Help could

not possibly reach him before he sustained serious injury – or worse. He glances anxiously towards the waiting room door. The waiting room is furnished with an assortment of mismatched chairs, with an assortment of equally mismatched patients sitting upon them. On a central table is a selection of fairly recent magazines and newspapers. In one corner of the room is the nurse / receptionist’s station: a small desk with a couple of filing cabinets alongside. Seated at this station, Amanda Gibbs is currently being harangued by Mrs Biggs. Having had her grazed elbow dressed by the nurse, this decidedly impatient patient is wondering when the doctor will be free to give her his final inspection. She has better things to do than hang about here all night. So does the doctor, Nurse Gibbs tersely replies. Mrs Biggs takes umbrage.

MRS BIGGS: Hoity-toity.

She crosses to sit next to another patient, a stringy Welshwoman with a small boy in tow. The child has an iced lolly, which is rapidly melting.

MRS BIGGS: Doesn’t half give herself airs, does she?

WELSHWOMAN: Got a living to make, hasn’t she? Same as everyone. (To the child) Lick it, can’t you? It’s slopping all over your jersey.

Then a new development piques Mrs Biggs’ interest, as Inspector Landon walks in. He approaches Nurse Gibbs. Having received her telephone message, he wants to know what’s all this about needles. The nurse, of course, knows no more about it than he does. Brent is the only one who can answer that question, and he is with a patient at the moment. He’s been in there for some time now… Checking his watch, Landon says he can afford to wait for a few minutes. He crosses to sit alongside Mrs Biggs and the Welshwoman. His attempts to converse with them fall flat, so he tries the boy instead.

LANDON: Shouldn’t eat too many of those, you know. You’ll be having teeth like mine. (To the Welshwoman) Not a whole one among them.

The Welshwoman sniffs pointedly. Landon, resigned to a certain coolness towards the force in this area, retires behind a magazine. Surreptitiously, the boy sticks his tongue out at him. Without seeming to move, the Welshwoman slaps the child.

In the consulting room, none of this can be heard. Drake gestures towards Brent with the knife. Getting the message, Brent withdraws his hand from the buzzer. Both men contemplate their next move. After a moment, Brent nods towards the knife.

BRENT: It’s pretty pointless, that, you know. With a roomful of patients next door, I’ve only got to raise my voice…

Drake knows that the door is soundproof. Brent changes tack, arguing that even if he did agree to keep quiet, what’s to stop him from tipping off the police the instant Drake leaves? The man has no answer to that. Brent continues. The only way to ensure that he is rendered harmless is to kill him. Even though that would certainly stir the police into action, and it might also raise the price of getting Drake out of the country, murder is his only possible chance. Drake considers this argument. There is an awful logic to it. The doctor goes on, deliberately baiting the man.

BRENT: I don’t think you’re prepared to do that. It’s just not your style. Breaking out of prison – very good. Knocking defenceless women about – you can manage that. But taking on a grown man? Oh, no. Even when you’ve got a knife in your hand, you haven’t got the guts to do that, have you?

DRAKE: Look, I’m desperate.

BRENT: So you say. But you’re not exactly determined, are you? You come here to shut me up and what do you do? Start off by pleading with me. And when that doesn’t work, you resort to threats. Without having enough guts to back them.

DRAKE: Shut up!

BRENT: You don’t know whether you want freedom or sympathy. And you’re not brave enough to win one, or honest enough to deserve the other.

DRAKE: Look, all I’ve done is to hit a rotten tart. That’s all I’ve done, I tell you.

BRENT: If she’s rotten, what does that make someone who beats her up and takes her money? A hero?

It’s the final insult that leads him to lunge at Brent. The doctor parries with the vase of chrysanthemums, which shatters but sends the knife flying. Brent goes off balance, but, with three neat ju-jitsu throws, he frees himself from the oncoming Drake, winds the man and drops him back into the patient’s chair, unconscious. It happens so quickly that even Brent seems slightly surprised by it. He mutters a quick apology to the insensible felon, then presses the buzzer. Nurse Gibbs comes in. She takes in the scene at a glance, and closes the door behind her. Having established that Brent is alright, she informs him that Landon is here. She calls the Inspector in from the waiting room. He stops short in surprise just inside the door.

LANDON: Well, I’ll be…

BRENT: (Indicates Drake) Friend of yours?

LANDON: Don’t know about friend. Name of George Drake. He was serving a seven-year stretch. Went over the wall at the Ville about a month ago.

BRENT: So I gathered.

Landon asks how Brent had got onto him. The doctor explains how he had noticed the ring earlier. At the time, he had assumed it was nothing more than a coincidence, hardly worth reporting to Landon at all – but Drake had jumped to the conclusion that he’d been recognised as an escaped convict. As it turns out, there are incriminating traces of blood on the ring. Analysis of that ought to clinch the case. Drake is starting to regain consciousness. Landon hoists him up, intent on taking him to the police station. Brent asks the Inspector to use the house door on his way out – it wouldn’t be good for the surgery’s image to have a semi-conscious patient carried off the premises through the waiting room. Landon agrees. Meanwhile, Brent and Nurse Gibbs have a quick tidy up. They need to resume the surgery as soon as possible, or their waiting patients will get restless. The nurse sweeps up the broken vase and flowers, then retreats through the house door and returns with a similar vase of chrysanthemums from Brent’s hallway. They are a lighter shade than the previous arrangement, but they will have to do. Finally, they are ready to let Mrs Biggs in. The old girl lumbers in, greatly relieved to be seen at last. She wonders what happened to the previous patient. Brent explains that he was taken ill. When asked how the injection feels, Mrs Biggs complains that her arm is a bit stiff and

throbbing. The doctor assures her that this will wear off in an hour or two. Suddenly, Mrs Biggs notices something.

MRS BIGGS: That’s queer.

BRENT: What?

MRS BIGGS: You had red chrysanthemums on your desk when I was in just now. These are yellow ones.

BRENT: I told you you ought to leave that stout and bitter alone, didn’t I?

Mrs Biggs looks at him strangely. It’s all a bit beyond her. She shakes her head as she gets up to leave. Nurse Gibbs cannot help grinning as she sees the woman out. There’s a hint of a smile on Brent’s face, too… but it fades as he gets back to work. Briskly, he asks Amanda to send in the next patient.

CAST Ian Hendry (Dr Geoffrey Brent), John Warwick (Inspector Landon), Ingrid Hafner (Nurse Amanda Gibbs), Olive McFarland (Jean Young), Howard Daley (PC Thomson), Harry H. Corbett (George Drake), Annette Robertson (Molly Dews), Patsy Smart (Mrs Dews), Rita Webb (Mrs Biggs), Janet Davies (Welshwoman), John Bosche (Child)

PRODUCTION Production Assistant – Barbara Forster Floor Manager – Alan Davidson Stage Manager – Hugh Forbes Consultant – ‘J.J. Bernard’ MBBS (a pseudonym), London Police Surgeon Designer – Alpho O’Reilly Producer – Julian Bond Drama Supervisor – Sydney Newman Director – Don Leaver

Rehearsed from Tuesday 19th July 1960 at The Tower, RCA Building, Brook Green Road, Hammersmith

Camera rehearsed and recorded on Sunday 24th July 1960 at Studio 2, ABC Television Studios, Broom Road, Teddington Lock, Middlesex

Recording Format – 405 Line Black and White Videotape

TRANSMISSION Saturday 24th September 1960, 7.00pm (ABC Midlands, ABC North, Anglia, ATV London, Scottish, Southern, Television Wales and West, Tyne Tees and Ulster)

ARCHIVE Rehearsal Script – held by British Film Institute, United Kingdom

PRODUCTION BRIEF The rehearsal script for this episode that has been retained by the British Film Institute gives an interesting peek into the genesis of the series, at which point Police Surgeon’s central character was not called Dr Brent. The script, which carries the working title Small World, refers to our police surgeon hero throughout as Dr Kemp. It is unclear whether the change to Brent was simply the result of a better name being decided upon or if the Dr Kemp name was already in prominent use elsewhere in fiction or reality.

FIELD REPORT The script includes two scenes at the end of Act 1 – Scenes 4 and 4a – which were intended to be filmed on location. Taking place during the daytime in West London, this sequence features Brent following Drake to the latter’s hideout at 37 Enders Street (a fictitious address), and Drake looking out through his window and noticing his pursuer. No dialogue was written for these scenes – location footage for use in videotaped dramas was often shot mute (silent) at this point in ABC’s history. Julian Bond’s script does, however, suggest the addition of incidental music, which would have been played in separately from grams. The majority of our information concerning this episode is derived from a rehearsal script. This document specifies the location filming but also contains a note at the end of Act 1 suggesting that, if necessary, it would be possible to realise these scenes in the studio environment. Therefore, it cannot be said with absolute certainty that this location filming session actually took place.

PERSONNEL FILE This episode marks the first of two appearances by Ingrid Hafner as Nurse Amanda Gibbs. Lag on the Run is the only instalment of Police Surgeon in which the actress is billed in contemporary TV listings, though press coverage of her next role, as nurse / receptionist Carol Wilson in The Avengers, suggests that she guest-starred in more than one episode of Police Surgeon as Dr Brent’s nurse. Furthermore, the surviving rehearsal script for Diplomatic Immunity (an episode that was not billed in TV listings) also includes the character of Amanda.

An actress of British and Austrian descent, Ingrid Hafner was born in London on 13th November 1936. Her father was Raoul Hafner, an Austrian helicopter pioneer who made a significant contribution to the British aerospace industry, and her mother, Eileen Myra McAdam, was a descendent of the road builder John Loudon McAdam. Ingrid studied at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School and later joined the Old Vic in London, then under the auspices of Michael Benthall. During her time with the company, she featured in many productions, most notably between 1956 and 1957 in the William Shakespeare plays The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Titus Andronicus, Antony and Cleopatra and Richard III. She also appeared in a 1959 Associated-Rediffusion schools television adaptation of Twelfth Night, and figured in a Bristol Old Vic production of Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac (1959) in a cast headed by Peter Wyngarde. Her appearances in Police Surgeon led to her casting in The Avengers when the production team and actor Ian Hendry were moved across to work on the replacement series. In the new show, Ingrid retained a similar position alongside the charismatic Hendry, but both characters were renamed, his to Dr Keel, and hers to Carol Wilson. At the time, Ingrid was fresh from her feature-film debut in Bluebeard’s Ten Honeymoons (1960), a low- budget British thriller starring George Sanders. It was hardly a feature film that made its mark, but it was excellent experience for the young, aspiring actress. In between her ‘nurse’ roles, Hafner appeared in an episode of Armchair Theatre, entitled Clip Joint People (transmitted on 4th December 1960). It made a welcome change from her usual parts, as the actress later told John K. Newnham of the Scottish listings magazine TV Guide on 27th July 1961: “I’m usually a nice girl. That time, I was a clip-joint girl. I got a great kick out of it!” Her roles in Police Surgeon and The Avengers caused her to look for property in London, leaving her home in Somerset behind, but she would return and work in the south west at various stages of her career, most notably in the children’s supernatural television serial The Clifton House Mystery (1978), which was set and recorded in Bristol under the auspices of Police Surgeon producer Leonard White. She went on to appear in several more feature films, including The Amorous Adventures of Moll Flanders (1965) and Philby, Burgess and MacLean – Spy Scandal of the Century (1977). Ingrid’s post-Avengers television work included The Corridor People (1966), The Mind of Mr J.G. Reeder (1971) and The Lotus Eaters (1972), a series which reunited her with Ian Hendry. In the 1980s, Ingrid guest starred in the HTV West series Robin of Sherwood, a well-regarded update of the Robin Hood legend, playing Mary in The Swords of Wayland. Towards the end of her career, she featured in Take the High Road, a long-running Highlands soap opera made by Scottish Television. She also made several appearances on British radio, notably in the BBC’s 1989 adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma, in which she portrayed Mrs Weston. Ingrid Hafner died in Berkshire, on 20th May 1994 of Motor Neurone Disease, leaving husband Richard Clothier and two sons, Ben and William.

Harry H. Corbett, who played George Drake, was born on 28th February 1925 in Rangoon, Burma (now known as Yangon, Myanmar), where his father was stationed as a British Army quartermaster sergeant. At the time of his appearance in Lag on the Run, Corbett was establishing a reputation as a serious and intense Method actor. He added the middle initial to his name during the 1950s in order to avoid confusion with the puppeteer Harry Corbett, of The Sooty Show fame – he claimed that the “H” stood for “hennyfink”, a Cockney pronunciation of “anything”. The actor’s career took a very different path when he appeared as the rag-and-bone man Harold Steptoe in The Offer, a 1962 episode of the BBC anthology series Comedy Playhouse, written by Ray Galton and Alan Simpson. The concept was successfully developed that same year into the situation comedy Steptoe and Son, which ran for a staggering twelve years and spawned a radio series and two feature films. Though the series turned Corbett into a star, it also led to him being typecast as a comedy actor. Tellingly, out of the thirteen appearances he made in Armchair Theatre from 1957, only two of them (The Hothouse in 1964, alongside Diana Rigg, and A Second Look in 1968) were made after the debut of Steptoe and Son. Corbett’s final role was in an episode of the Anglia Television anthology show Tales of the Unexpected. Entitled The Moles, this decidedly light- hearted story features a group of men (played by Corbett and fellow situation comedy stalwarts Fulton Mackay and Bill Owen) who dig their way into a bank, only to find the vaults empty due to industrial action. Filmed shortly before Corbett’s death, at the age of 57, from a heart attack on 21st March 1982, The Moles was transmitted two months later, on 30th May 1982. Lag on the Run was an early television acting job for Janet Davies, who was born on 14th September 1927 in Wakefield, West Yorkshire. A handful of previous roles included the character of Miss Tiddy in The Curse of the Bellfoots, an episode of the 1960 ATV situation comedy anthology Arthur’s Treasured Volumes, starring Arthur Askey. Though mainly remembered for playing the nagging Mrs Pike in 30 episodes of the BBC comedy Dad’s Army between 1968 and 1977, Davies also appeared in many other television and film productions, including Dixon of Dock Green (various roles in six episodes between 1964 and 1972), the 1972 feature film Under Milk Wood (1972), Z Cars (various roles in six episodes between 1962 and 1978) and The Professionals in 1982. She was sometimes credited as Jan Davies during her later career. When not acting, she put her typing and shorthand skills to good use, and is said to have landed the role of Mrs Pike while carrying out such work for the theatrical agent Ann Callender, who was the wife of TV producer David Croft – the director, co-writer and producer of Dad’s Army. Davies happened to be in the office when the first Dad’s Army script arrived, and quickly recommended herself for the part. Her brief role as the Welshwoman in Lag on the Run was similarly comedic. Janet Davies died on 28th September 1986, aged 59, of breast cancer which had spread to her lungs.

MATTERS ARISING Lag on the Run establishes a minor running theme regarding the comically feeble typing skills of PC Thomson. It takes the hapless constable some considerable time to type out Jean’s statement – a fact that is remarked upon by Landon, Brent and Jean herself – and he is horror-struck when it seems as though he may have to retype the whole thing! Later in the series, writer Peter Yeldham picked up on this character trait in his script for Diplomatic Immunity, in which Thomson is still struggling with the typewriter. Mrs Biggs points out that Amanda Gibbs is not the same nurse that the doctor had the last time she visited the surgery, which suggests that Amanda is either new or not a permanent member of staff. Indeed, in the episodes You Won’t Feel a Thing and A Home of Her Own, Brent has a different nurse, played by Patricia Mort. It is quite possible that the nurses at Brent’s surgery alternated on a job- sharing / part-time basis or were supplied to him by an agency. Perhaps Julian Bond was planning ahead with the inclusion of Mrs Biggs’ line, building in an explanation for the eventuality of an actress not being available when a nurse character was required. This also suggests that Ingrid Hafner was engaged for the series on an episode-to-episode basis, rather than on a contract for an agreed period of time. In fact, judging by the comings and goings among the supporting cast during the series, it would seem that Ian Hendry and John Warwick were the only actors who were contracted to Police Surgeon on a regular basis. “The Ville” referred to by Drake and Landon is an informal name for Her Majesty’s Prison Pentonville. Opened in 1842, Pentonville Prison is not actually located in the Pentonville district, but further north, on the Caledonian Road in the Barnsbury area of the Borough of Islington in North London. A contact sheet of 12 stills held by Leonard White was long believed to pertain to the Avengers episode Square Root of Evil. The sheet, which is marked on the back by White as “Avengers Episode 3”, comprises glamorous portraits of Ingrid Hafner alongside a vase of flowers, and shots of empty sets for a doctor’s surgery (complete with waiting room) and a newsagent. However, the photographs bear little or no relation to the plot of Square Root of Evil, which does not feature a newsagent. Examination of the script for Lag on the Run suggests that these images relate to another “Episode 3” entirely. The third episode of Police Surgeon to be transmitted, Lag on the Run featured Hafner as Nurse Amanda Gibbs, a vase of chrysanthemums, a composite set for Geoffrey Brent’s surgery and waiting room, and a newsagent / tobacconist’s shop. It is possible that the contact sheet was initially marked as “Episode 3” but was not identified by series, and that the word “Avengers” was added some time later. Since the third episode of The Avengers similarly involved a GP’s surgery (that of David Keel) and Ingrid Hafner as a nurse (Carol Wilson), the mistake is an understandable one.

Another photograph from the production of Lag on the Run shows Brent examining Jean’s injury in the surgeon’s room of the police station, with Landon loitering in the background. The set depicted in this image exactly matches that shown in one of the contact sheet images. This photograph also reveals that Jean’s costume comprised a pleated minidress, rather than the blouse suggested in Julian Bond’s script.

MENTIONED IN DISPATCHES An adaptation by Julian Bond of Carter Dickson’s The Judas Window was announced as a forthcoming BBC television serial for Saturday nights in the Guild News section of The Stage and Television Today on 29th September 1960. Further to this information, an aside was made remarking that “ABC series Police Surgeon, devised and produced by Bond, is getting good ratings… [At the] end of this month, he hopes to fly to the island of Ibiza for a week or two of sun and siestas.” Despite the report of respectable audience figures, the series never made the TAM Top Ten chart, either regionally or nationally.

VERDICT In some ways, Lag on the Run curiously predicts The Avengers. Here we see Brent in sleuthing mode, tracking the villain to his lair – in a rare excursion out of doors that may well have been shot on film. In a move not dissimilar to a plot development in the Avengers episode Double Danger, the doctor sends a cryptic message to his colleague via his nurse. There is even a fight scene at the end (though it is over rather quickly), with Brent using ju-jitsu to overcome Drake! Brent’s vague message to Landon is a slight weakness in the story. The doctor claims to be too busy with his patients to telephone Landon, so he gets Amanda to ask the Inspector to pop round if he should happen to be passing. Would it really have taken Brent that long to telephone Landon? Less time than talking to him as a visitor in person? Probably not – but it serves the purposes of the plot for him to do so! This is mitigated by the explanation that Brent believes his observation of Drake’s ring to be most likely a sheer coincidence, hardly worth passing on to the Inspector at all, and by the writer’s masterful manipulation of tension. Julian Bond contrasts the developing threat to Brent with humorous dialogue exchanges at the station, in the shop and at the surgery. This is most dramatic towards the end of Act 2, when the writer cuts from Brent being threatened with a knife in his consulting room to a highly comical scene involving Mrs Biggs, the Welshwoman and her son in the waiting room. All in all, it’s something of a mystery why this exciting episode was not selected as the first one to be broadcast (but see the Verdict on Easy Money for more musings about this subject…).

FOR THE FULL DIAGNOSIS…

www.hiddentigerbooks.co.uk