Sir Clive Todd, an important British politician, has been found shot in the head in a safe containing secret documents, which he apparently was helping to steal. Steed and Mrs Peel go to Sir Clive’s house, where he is recuperating from his injuries. Mrs Peel is placed under cover as Sir Clive’s nurse. When Sir Clive finally regains consciousness, Steed and Mrs Peel question him, but he has no memory of the robbery, and his memories of other important things seem to be fuzzy as well.
Steed decides that it would be a good idea to have a psychiatrist examine Sir Clive, to see whether the amnesia is real or a clever cover for illegal activities. The Ministry sends Dr Fergus Campbell to help with the case, and his first interaction with Steed is a testy dick-smacking contest, which is worth reproducing in full:
In “Dial a Deadly Number,” Mrs Peel goes to visit the undertaker who is dealing with the victim of the murder she and Steed are investigating. When she asks if the undertaker remembers handling matters for the dead man, Mr Tod-Hunter, the undertaker says he does, and then rattles off the specs for the coffin and talks a bit more about coffin handles.
Emma: The late Mr Tod-Hunter … he was brought here, wasn’t he?
Undertaker: Tod-Hunter? In mahogany and walnut, velvet lined. Sold brass handles, Gothic style. I prefer the Corinthian fluted myself. Tasteful. Tod-Hunter. Yes, he’s with us.
What I find most compelling about this little scene is the way Mrs Peel treats the undertaker. She doesn’t interrupt him or tell him to get to the point and answer her question. She’s not mocking or contemptuous of him. She doesn’t think he’s weird for being so interested in coffin handles. She smiles at him because she likes him and she thinks he is delightful.
When she listens to him and watches him at his work, Mrs Peel sees a craftsman, someone who is dedicated to his work and wants to do it well, someone who wants to do right by the people he serves, and who is unashamed to take pride in the service he provides.
Emma Peel really sees this man. She embraces who he is, and honors him for it.
And the thing is: Diana Rigg didn’t have to play it that way. She didn’t have to play that scene with delight and appreciation. She could have rolled her eyes, or raised her eyebrows, or sneered at the man, but she doesn’t. Rigg honors the undertaker’s character too, and she honors Mrs Peel by playing that scene with respect and an undercurrent of joy.