The Assassination Bureau

Synopsis: The Assassination Bureau has existed for decades (perhaps centuries) until Diana Rigg begins to investigate it. The high moral standing of the Bureau (only killing those who deserve it) is called into question by her. She puts out a contract for the Bureau to assassinate its leader on the eve of World War I.
Director(s): Basil Dearden
Production: Paramount Pictures
  Nominated for 1 Golden Globe. Another 1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
6.8
Rotten Tomatoes:
71%
M
Year:
1969
110 min
176 Views


One cannot deny, I suppose,

that murder has its uses in society.

But I must say that in the past,

it has been pursued with more

enthusiasm than accuracy.

Explosive devices certainly went off,

but usually in the wrong place...

...at the right time,

or the right place at the wrong time.

Quite suddenly, all this inefficiency

became a thing of the past.

Murders began to be committed

with a sort of unholy precision.

A comprehensive service

was now being offered by

the Assassination Bureau...Limited.

This is from your own paper,

two weeks ago.

There is only one common factor in

these killings:
Ruthless efficiency.

No social or political bias,

just murder as a fine art.

"Mesopotamia"?

What the devil does that mean?

Personal Column of The Times, three

weeks before Alderman J.T. Langer

was blown up by

an exploding casket.

Berliner Morgenpost,

two weeks before Count von Kissen

fell down the lift shaft

at the Adlon Hotel.

- Our own paper.

- Good heavens.

One week before the affair

of the exploding Bible.

I believe this is how prospective

clients contact this organization.

Employ me, and you

can have my story.

But that's our paper again.

Find out who placed it.

Get to Small Ads!

Pray, don't bother.

I know who placed it.

- Who?

- I did.

The ad has been answered,

my name and address supplied.

I expect them to get in touch

with me at any moment.

- Splendid. Splendid!

- My lord.

You certainly are the New Woman

incarnate, Miss Winter.

I slipped in unobserved so

Miss Winter would talk freely.

I always talk freely. Who are you?

This is Lord Bostwick,

the owner of our newspaper.

How do you do?

The newspaper business

is a male preserve.

If you are plotting to breach the citadel,

it should be done in privacy. Come.

Sit down. Sit down.

Put you to work in this office,

and they'd all walk out.

But they'd leap

to take you out to dinner.

Why should they ask

me out to dinner?

Because you are a very

attractive young woman.

There can be no sexual equality whilst

women exploit their appearance.

I rigidly avoid it.

Yes, well, this lift will take us

to my office.

- Allow me to offer you a little reviver.

- I touch no spirituous liquor.

I should hope not.

This is a fine Madeira.

I have a partiality for it, just as I have

for adventurous women.

What, then, is your reaction

to my proposal?

That this newspaper should support

you to the full extent of its resources.

It is truly wonderful

to find someone as

liberal as yourself in a position

of power and authority.

Yes, indeed. It's not at all common.

My newspapers are only

a means to an end.

I have a genuine concern

for the political welfare of the world.

You'd be astonished if I told you of the

courts in Europe where I wield power.

Behind the thrones, of course.

I am a retiring man.

It will be an honor to work for you.

I'd like to keep it

a secret between us.

- Why?

- Because, Miss Winter,

if there's truth to what you say, I'd be

a marked man for supporting you.

- I see.

- You'll have to be satisfied,

- with the thin end of the wedge.

- Very well.

I want your employment,

and need your resources behind me.

In that case, sit down and tell me

a little bit about your plan.

I must admit that one

thing intrigues me.

- And what is that?

- Apart from your desire

to prove women's equality with men,

what is your object in contacting

- these organized assassins?

- Surely that's obvious.

I want someone assassinated.

- Oh, I'm so sorry.

- That's all right, lady. I'm used to it.

- Your matches.

- It doesn't matter.

I've lost me eyes, lady,

but I've still got my pride.

Yes, of course.

"Mr. Pemberty's bowler."

Pardon me, madam.

Are you being attended to?

No. I've come to collect

Mr. Pemberty's bowler.

- Mr. Pemberty's?

- Yes.

Very hard-wearing felt, madam,

from Mesopotamia.

I am sure Mr. Pemberty

will be pleased with it.

Oh, I'm sure he will.

If you would care to take it,

we will deliver it for you.

This way, madam.

Just through here, madam.

I must apologize for the lack

of amenities,

but we don't usually cater

for lady customers.

However, the journey

will not take long.

Whoa.

Back. Back.

Whoa.

This way, madam.

These cloak-and-dagger precautions

are an unfortunate necessity.

We try and keep them

to a minimum.

Forgive me. A test for our customers.

We're not used to dealing with ladies.

- Evidently.

- An interesting reaction.

Men come on gruesome business,

yet without exception

they are frightened out of their wits

by a whiff of gunpowder.

You seem to be made of sterner stuff.

Will you please be seated?

Miss Winter, you are not married.

You have, as far as we can ascertain,

no romantic associations.

Whom, other than a husband or lover,

could a young lady wish to kill?

- You know a lot about me.

- Naturally, or you'd not be here.

At least may I know

whom I am addressing?

Certainly. I am lvan Dragomiloff.

Oh, don't be put off by the name.

My father's Russian sentimentality

has been counteracted by

- an English public school education.

- Are you head of this organization?

- Certainly.

- You look extremely young.

Oh, don't let that worry you.

I was born and bred for the job.

- That's terrible.

- It's not terrible.

My father brought me up

to continue his life work.

It's natural for a son to inherit

the family business.

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Michael Relph

Michael Leighton George Relph (16 February 1915 – 30 September 2004) was an English film producer, art director, writer and film director. He was the son of actor George Relph. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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