The Secret Agent (1996) - full transcript

London of the late 19th century is a haven for political exiles of all sorts - refugees, partisans, anarchists. Verloc has made his living spying for the Russian government, an agent provocateur of sorts, while simultaneously providing information to the London police, specifically Chief Inspector Heat. When the new Russian ambassador demands he prove his worth or lose his salary, Verloc sets off a tragic chain of events that involves his pretty young wife Winnie, her intellectually disabled brother Stevie, and a figure called the Professor, whose fascination with explosives and destruction makes him the person to call on when Verloc needs a bomb.

Shame on you, Michaelis!

I will deny anything that makes use
ofblatant oversimplification.

Truth is complex. Once you take away its
character of complexity, you destroy it.

And when truth is destroyed,
you're building on sand.

Fifteen years in a dark,
damp underground cell.

I still can't understand
what it is we done wrong, Mother.

Well, now, it's nothing
like that, dear.

Weren't you comfortable
enough here? Was that it?

I've purposely left you
my few bits of good furniture.

I don't see the use
of leaving it till I'm dead.

- Stevie?
- Yes, Winnie?



You go and do
some of your drawing.

I'll fetch you when it's time
to bring the luggage down.

All right, Winnie.

What you want to say
that for in front ofhim?

You know how upset he gets
if anyone talks about dying.

Oh, I'm sorry, Winnie.

I wasn't thinking.
I'm all of a fluster.

Is the cabbie here yet?

... the radical change
we're all of us working towards.

The revolution cannot be
provoked. It must arise spontaneously...

by the will of the people at the moment
when it becomes clear to them...

that capitalism is ready to collapse...

under the weight of
its own contradiction.

Have you still not understood,
Michaelis, that your damn pessimism...



is a way of lying down and allowing
the oppressor to march all over you?

"Pessimism."If I were a pessimist...

don't you suppose that
sometimes in those 15 years...

I would have found a way
to cut my throat?

I could've beaten my head in
against the walls of my cell.

No. I'm not advising
a resignation or indifference.

I am counseling patience!

"Patience"...another word
for doing nothing.

You are saying that
all action is useless.

Worse than that.
You are offering encouragement...

to those economic cannibals...

who drink the blood and feed
on the flesh of the people.

- Hear, hear.
- No, no, no.
Patience is not submission.

It's a state of mind in which to complete
the necessary preparations for the future.

If I could find three men... three...

capable of having no feeling
for anything on earth...

including themselves, then I could make
the necessary preparations for the future.

You cannot force what must happen
of its own accord.

Before long,
the property owners...

will begin to fight
among themselves...

And in the meantime
they hold their branding irons
against the skin of the people.

We must hear it sizzle...

and make no response...

except for your damned patience...

to the smell of burning...

Stevie!
What's the matter?

Br... Br... Branding irons must hurt,
Winnie! Think how they must hurt!

Never mind that. The cab's here.
Help Mother down with the luggage.

It's gotta be stopped, Winnie!
It's gotta be stopped!

Come along. Don't you
worry about it. Mr. Verloc will stop it.

We're trying to conduct a meeting
down here! Stop that fuss! Stop it!

- Shh!
- I'm so...

- I'm... I'm s... I'm sorry, Mr. Verloc.
- We're just leaving.

Come on.

Um, I'm, uh...
I'm sorry, gentlemen.

It's, uh...
We'll take a short pause.

My mother-in-law is
moving out this evening.

It's very good, this.
Absolutely typical.

What's very good?

Exactly what you would
expect from a degenerate.

I wouldn't let my wife
hear you call him that if I was you.

She's very fond of her brother.

- It's a purely scientific term.
- Yeah.

Thank you ever
so much, Mr. Verloc.

I'm sorry to have disturbed you.

- Please allow me.
- Mr. Michaelis.

Mrs. Verloc.

- I can manage, Mr. Ossipon.
- Please, call me Tom.

I thought your name
was Alexander.

It is, but all my most
special friends call me Tom.

Listen to me. Listen.

You can come back
anytime you wish.

Oh, Mr. Verloc!
You're so kind!

Listen. Do me a favor, will you,
young fella? Load the bags for me.

Not supposed to do no liftin'.

Well, go on, then.

Is he all right... your brother?

- He's a little upset today.
- Oh. Upset.

- I'm ever so grateful, Mr. Verloc.
- No, no. Not at all.

Tell her, Adolf.
Nobody wanted her to go.

What? Oh, oh.
No, no. Of course not.

Thank you.

- I won't be long.
- I'll get rid of them as soon as I can.

- Safe journey.
- Come on. Back to the meeting.

- No, no.
- Hey?

- Don't whip.
- Huh?

- You mustn't whip. It hurts.
- Mustn't whip, eh?

Giddap!

Hyah!

Giddap!

Hyah!

Giddap! Giddap!

Yaah!

This is all your idea, Mother,
so I don't know why you're carrying on.

I can't help it, love. I'm sorry.

You haven't quarreled
with Mr. Verloc, have you?

No, no. Of course not.

Mr. Verloc's always been
the soul of generosity.

Then whatever is it
decided you to leave us?

I never could
get used to that shop.

I had to keep my eyes shut
every time I passed through.

It wasn't exactly the sort
of place you could ask people
back for a cup of tea, is it?

It's a steady business.

I don't know what
your dad would've said.

- Dad was a brute.
- Winnie!

Well, he was. He used to take it out
on Stevie something terrible.

Well, Stevie was
a disappointment to him.

He couldn't get used to the idea
ofhaving a boy who was a bit, well...

not quite right in the head.

Well, taking his belt
off to him wasn't gonna make
him any cleverer, was it?

Hup!

Hey!

- It's all right, Winnie.
- You get back up this minute.

No. It's all right,
Winnie. It's all right.

- No, I'll-I'll walk... I'll run after.
- What are you talking about?

- It's too heavy for the horse.
- Run after a cab? I've never
heard of such a thing.

Don't you let him, Winnie.
He'll get lost.

I'll tell Mr. Verloc, Stevie.
He'll be ever so unhappy.

You been drinking?

And don't you go
for trying that again.

- Poor horse.
- Never mind the horse.

How'd you like to sit up here
at 2:00 in the morning, hey?

See, I'm a night cabbie.

Gotta take what they
bloody well give me.

Hanging out with all sorts
in the middle of the night.

Wife and four kids to keep.

It's a hard world.

It's bad.
It's very bad.

Hard on horses?
Yeah, a damn sight harder...

on poor bleeders
like me.

You can come in my bed
if you like.

And your horse as well.
I'll ask Winnie.

I-I'm doing this for Stevie.

I wanted to be sure that he'd be safe.

It's the same reason that you married
Mr. Verloc, if the truth be known.

- What do you mean?
- Well, don't tell me you didn't
prefer that butcher's boy.

What was his name? Ron?

Nice-looking boy.
Liked to laugh.

No. You wanted somebody
who'd take care of Stevie.

Mr. Verloc's always liked Stevie.

Yeah, but he can be
a bit of a burden at times.

And now I'm getting on a bit,
I was afraid I might be as well.

- No.
- Well...

the best of men
can get tired, dear.

I didn't want him
to get tired of Stevie.

He'd have to get tired of me first.

You will come and see me, won't you,
Winnie, as often as you can?

Course I will.

I want to see you every Sunday.

I'll come when I can manage,
and when I can't, I'll send you Stevie.

No! No, don't let him
come on his own.

He gonna change buses and get lost.

You leave it to me.
I'll... I'll work out something.

Better go in, Mother.

You'll catch cold out here.

And you look after me on the way home.
Help me into the bus.

Mustn't be nervous, Winnie.
I'll look after you.

- It's a hard world, Winnie.
- That's true enough.

Hard on horses
and for poor people.

Nobody can do anything
about that, Stevie.

Yes. Police.

That's not what
the police are there for.

Then... Then what are
they there for, Winnie?

The police are there
so's them as have nothing...

can't take nothing away
from them as have a lot.

Oh.

What... What can they do
if they're poor and hungry?

Mustn't worry about it, Stevie.

Things don't stand much lookin' into.

Long as you and me love each other,
Stevie, that's the important thing.

Um... And Mr. Verloc...
Does he love me?

Course he does, Stevie!

He's a good man, Mr. Verloc.

Go on. Get up! Get up!

Takings very small today.

That's the least
of my worries.

I've been called
to a meeting tomorrow.

At the Russian embassy.

It can't be
anything good.

- Come to bed.
- Mmm.

I thought I was never
gonna get rid of'em tonight.

All those wretches.

Mr. Michaelis is a nice man.

He can afford to be.

He's found that old duchess
or whatever she is to support him.

And Ossipon?

He'll want for nothing.

As long as there are
silly girls in the world...

with savings bankbooks.

That boy isn't fit
to hear what's said here.

- He doesn't know any better.
Thinks it's all true.
- Mmm.

It's bad enough him having to get
used to Mother being gone.

What did she want to go
and do that for?

Perhaps it's just as well.

He's such a good boy.

I couldn't do without him.

Would you like to...

Or shall I put the light out?

Yeah.

Put the light out.

Ah, yes.

You stole us the plans of the breech-block
off their field gun, did you not?

I did.

How much
did you get for that?

- Five years' hard labor.
- That'll teach you to get caught.

Sit down.

Now, you purport to be
a desperate...

socialist or anarchist,
am I right?

- Anarchist.
- Very corpulent for
an anarchist, aren't you?

- What's that?
- "Overweight anarchist"...

seems to me to be something
of a contradiction in terms.

How long have you been
drawing pay from this embassy?

Eleven years.

I've read all the reports
you sent us last year...

and I must say...

I'm at a loss to understand
why you wrote them at all.

Only three months ago, I sent you warning
of a plan to assassinate the grand duke...

on his visit to Paris!

The French police assure us
your information was
exaggerated and inaccurate.

And don't shout.

The Secret Service is, by its nature,
difficult to describe.

But I can certainly tell you
something it is not.

It is not a philanthropic institution.

You are supposed to be
agent provocateur.

I cannot think
what you have provoked.

Except for my irritation.

I brought you in to tell you
that from now on, I expect you
to start earning your money.

The good times are over.

No work, no pay.

You summoned me here
with a most peremptory letter.

This is only the third time
I have been here in 11 years...

and the first time
I've arrived...

through the front door
in broad daylight!

You seem to have no regard
for my safety whatsoever.

Your safety is your affair.

If I were seen coming here,
it would destroy my usefulness.

If you cease to be useful...

Let me assure you of this...
You shall be chucked.

I take it you know about
the international conference in Milan.

I read the newspapers.

Then you will have observed...

that the debate on the suppression
of international terrorism...

has been entirely inconclusive.

The British government
in particular is reluctant...

to abandon its absurd
and sentimental policy...

of offering asylum to
so-called political refugees.

Your damned friends have only
to fill in an application.

It means I can keep them
all under my eye.

More to the point,
I want them under lock and key.

I want them handed back to us
so that we can deal with them properly.

The absence of a system...

of a rational repression
in this country is a scandal.

I have decided that this is...

the correct
psychological moment...

to instigate
such a repression.

This is why
I've sent for you.

What I want is
a series of outrages.

Not necessarily sanguinary.
I'm not a butcher.

But startling.

An attack, for example...

upon the fetish of the hour.

Now, what do you suppose
that that might be?

Well, I don't know.

Then pay attention.

I will try not to talk
above your head.

The class we're trying to attack
is very difficult to shock.

Conventional assassination...

they take in their stride.

A bomb in the National Gallery
would create some effect...

but principally among artists
and art critics.

People of no account.

No, the sacrosanct
fetish of the hour is science.

Science?

Unfortunately, it is not possible
to throw a bomb into pure mathematics.

And of course, the details
of the enterprise...

I leave entirely to you.

But I do have a suggestion.

I thought you might.

Yes.

What do you say...

about having a go
at astronomy?

Astronomy?

Everyone has heard of Greenwich...

even the bootblacks
in Charing Cross Station.

Nobody actually understands what it is,
this new Greenwich Mean Time...

but it has a mystical significance.

The first meridian.

An attack upon time itself.

Entirely gratuitous
and wonderfully inexplicable.

If that doesn't stir the authorities
in this country...

out of their cretinous torpor,
I don't know what will.

- It'll cost money.
- Oh, no.

That cock won't fight.
You'll get your usual screw...

and if something doesn't happen
very soon, you won't even get that.

Do I make myself clear?

Is that all?

The Milan conference
reconvenes in a month.

Unless you provide us before that time
with a dynamite outrage...

your connection with us is at an end.

And now you may go.

The first meridian, Mr. Verloc.

Go for the first meridian.

- Bad day?
- Atrocious.

He'd do anything
for you, that boy.

Adolf.

What are you thinking about?

Emigrating.

- What?
- To France or California.

I couldn't do that.

You'd have to go by yourself.

And you couldn't do without me.

Could you?

No.

I couldn't.

Stevie?
Are you all right?

He's moping up there
on the landing again.

It's all along
with Mother leaving.

Mmm. I'm going out.

Why don't you
take him with you?

I can't.

Fresh air would do him good.

Go get your coat.

I had a letter
from Michaelis today.

Did you?

His duchess has given him
the use of a country cottage...

to finish his book,
if you please.

And he's offered to, uh,
put up Stevie for a few days.

That's nice of him.

But you couldn't do
without him, could you?

Of course I could.

If it were somewhere
he wanted to go, why not?

I'll take him down, then.

Good-bye, darling.

I love you, Winn.

Off you go.

Like father and son.

Do you give your stuff
to anybody who wants it?

I never refuse anyone.
I make it an absolute rule.

As long as I have a little
pinch left for myself.

- And you think this is a sound principle?
- Perfectly.

You mean, uh,
you'd sell to the police?

They'd leave me alone.

Couldn't they arrest you
if they wanted to?

- What for?
- "What for"?

Dealing in explosives
without a license.

Oh, it's very well known
to the police...

that I never part
with the final handful of my wares.

I carry it right here,
next to my heart.

What if six policemen
jump on you in the street?

In my left pocket, I carry
an India-rubber bulb.

I always walk with
my hand closed around it.

If I squeeze it,
it activates the detonator.

Works on the same principle
as the shutter of a camera lens.

- Instantaneous?
- No. Unfortunately not.

I estimate 10 seconds will elapse between
applying pressure and the explosion.

Ten seconds?

That's a lifetime.

I'm working on it.

I'm trying to invent a detonator that
would adjust itself to all conditions...

without loss of reliability.

A perfectly precise mechanism.
A really intelligent detonator.

This one's not so bad, though.

See that couple
going up the stairs?

This would finish them.
And everyone else in the room.

Character. You see?

That's all that counts...
force of personality.

Suppose you meet
a policeman of character?

Be a character based on conventional
morality, dependent on life.

In other words, inhibited.
Infinitely vulnerable.

I rely on something
which knows no restraint...

which cannot be attacked... death.

I've never understood
what it is you want.

Just one thing...

a perfect detonator.

- More.
- Right away, sir.

It's a precise aim.
Unlike you, with your delegations...

your committees,
your revolutions.

Which are simply a mirror image of
the society you pretend to despise.

Here we are, sir.

Did you know there was, um, a man
blown up in Greenwich Park this morning?

- No.
- Huge explosion.

Fragments of body everywhere.
Here you are.

The usual newspaper "gup."

Criminal stupidity.

I don't know what you mean
by "criminal."

What everybody else
means.

I mean, something like this is
very dangerous for people in our position.

And you tell me you are giving your
stuff away to any fool who comes to you.

Both hands. Freely.

'Cause what's needed
is a clean sweep.

I don't give a damn
about consequences.

Can you describe the person
you gave the explosives to?

Describe him?

Yes. I can describe him
in one word... Verloc.

Verloc?

He said he wanted it for some kind
of demonstration against a building.

And he wanted to be able to carry it
in public without arousing suspicion.

So I cut the bottom out of
an old one-gallon copal varnish can.

Afterwards, I re-soldered it.

I put the detonator
in the screw cap.

What do you suppose happened?

I don't know.

Once you tighten the cap
and make the connection...

gives you 20 minutes.

It also becomes
extremely volatile.

So, either he let the time
run too close or he let it fall.

I can't imagine
what came over Verloc.

He was a nobody.

A quite ordinary personality.

Useful, but no more.
Married, even.

Ran a shop, which I imagine...

his wife started for him.

He didn't tell you why?

I didn't ask.

I don't know what I should do.

What you usually do, I imagine.

Fasten yourself to the woman
for all she's worth.

Well, well, well.

- Chief Inspector Heat.
- It's all right. I'm not looking for you.

Not this time. When I am,
I shall know where to find you.

And I'm sure your obituary will be
more flattering than you deserve.

Also, however conscientiously
your friends may try and sort us out...

I'm afraid some of you may end up
being buried with some of me.

This sort of stuff is all very well
for frightening children.

No time like the present.

You'll never have a more favorable
opportunity for making a humane arrest.

It's just you and me.

Not even a cat around.

Surely that's a worthwhile self-sacrifice
for a public servant.

You'd do it if you knew how cruelly
tempted I am every time I walk in a crowd.

If I was to grab you now...

I'd be no better than you.

You'll never get me so cheap.

I don't know what your game is.
I don't expect you know yourself.

You're really famous
for not understanding our game.

Well, whatever it is, give it up.

You'll find
we're too many for you.

Good job you people always
make such a mess of things.

If a burglar was that incompetent,
he'd starve.

Better at my work than you are.

That's quite enough of that.

Lunatic.

Good day.

Evening.

Please make yourself comfortable,
Chief Inspector.

Thank you, sir.

Sit down.

A couple of weeks ago, you assured me
there was no prospect whatsoever...

of any outbreak
of anarchist activity.

I passed this on to the home secretary.
He was extremely pleased.

He smiled at me.

I wonder if you can imagine how annoying
I find the memory of that smile.

None of our lot had
anything to do with this, sir.

Tell me what you discovered
in Greenwich.

Our man arrived at Maze Hill station
at 11:08 on the Gravesend train.

Short, stocky fellow.
He was carrying a tin can.

- As a matter of fact,
there was two of them.

They'd come from a place
called Aldington, near Hythe.

An old woman saw them making their way
towards the observatory.

The explosion happened
about 10 minutes later.

A constable heard it. He was on the scene
within a minute or two.

What evidence do you have
that it was the same people?

Strips of yellow tin in the vicinity.

Only one of them was killed.

- How do you know?
- Bits and pieces only
added up to one body.

Couldn't identify him, but he had
the right number of everything.

Good deal ofhim they had
to scrape up with a spade.

Nice treat for the coroner's jury.

Filthy weather.

The home secretary said he'd been told
we were very efficient.

And what we seemed most
efficient at was making him look a fool.

There is one what you might call
chink of light, sir.

- This place in Kent.
Aldington, near Hythe.
- Yes?

Odd sort of place of origin for
two ruthless terrorists, wouldn't you say?

Not if you happen to know that not more
than a mile away, there is a cottage...

occupied at present
by the ex-convict, Michaelis.

I thought you just told me our anarchists
had nothing to do with this affair.

Doesn't mean we can't issue
a charge if we feel like it, sir.

You'll need some
pretty conclusive evidence.

I don't think that'd be
too difficult, sir.

I can look after that.
Trust me for that.

Man like that has no business
being out of prison, if you ask me.

None of them do. I tell you, sir.

Makes me long for the days when I was
catching good, honest thieves.

At least you know
where you are with thieves.

Bit of mutual respect.
At least they're normal.

I believe you're hiding
something from me, Chief Inspector.

What is it?

Something
with regards to Michaelis, sir?

No. What's puzzling me, in fact...

is your eagerness to shunt the whole train
off into a siding marked "Michaelis."

So you'd better tell me
what else you've discovered.

As a matter of fact,
there was another matter...

I'd intended to draw to
your attention in due course.

- I found an address.
- An address?

- That's right, sir. On the corpse.
- What address?

- 32 Brett Street. It's a shop.
- What kind of shop?

The kind of shop you might
expect to find in Soho, sir.

Who runs this shop?

A man who, from time to time...

I have occasion to make use of.

Does he have a name, this paragon?

Verloc.

A personal friend of mine in
the French police tipped me the wink...

that he was a secret agent in the pay
of the Russian embassy.

So I called on him one evening,
told him who I was.

He didn't bat an eyelid. Said he was
a married man and didn't want any trouble.

So we came to an arrangement.

Describe it.

I had a word with
the customs people...

made sure they wouldn't interfere
with any of his shipments...

and in return, I'm able to
consult him whenever I think
there's something in the wind.

- And how long has this been going on?
- Seven years.

No wonder your reputation
for omniscience is so established.

So, in other words...

you would rather throw
an innocent man to the lions...

than dispense with the services
of so useful an informant.

I would hardly describe Michaelis
as an innocent man, sir.

Even though I know he enjoys
a number of influential friends, sir.

If you mean the duchess of...

Isn't she a particular friend
of your wife, sir?

As to that, the first secretary at the
Russian embassy is a member of my club.

And I may say, it's most improper of you
to try finessing with me in this way.

This Verloc is a spy
in the pay of a foreign embassy.

I don't feel disposed
to overlook that fact...

just because he may privately
be of service to you.

It's my opinion he knows
nothing at all of this business.

Then how do you account
for the address?

I don't account for it.

You see, I begin to see this
as a heaven-sent opportunity...

to deal with
a whole gang of spies...

agents provocateur,
and all kinds of political riffraff.

You may go.

Report to me here
at 9:00 tomorrow morning.

As you please, sir.

Harold! Just the man I was
hoping to run across.

- How are you?
- Will you take a drink with me?

Unfortunately, I have
an errand to run.

Busy day, huh?
With this outrage in Greenwich Park?

- Just so.
- I have said this before...
I cannot understand...

why your government is so
indulgent towards these terrorists.

Perhaps it is because you're not so
cruelly affected as we are in my country.

We're on the track
of a man called Verloc.

- What?
- I understand you know him.

What makes you think that?

He has no secrets from us.

A lying dog of some kind.

This may well be
the breakthrough we've been waiting for.

- What do you mean?
- In our campaign to
clear out of this country...

the despicable scum that use embassies
as a cover for their criminal activities.

I have an appointment.

I believe I've heard you complain
of the inefficiency of our police.

But within eight hours of this explosion,
we seem to have established...

not only the perpetrator
but even the instigator behind him.

Not bad, wouldn't you say?

Aren't you impressed?

Where's your umbrella?

I must have left it somewhere.

- Have you been down to see Stevie?
- No, no.

You've let yourself
get soaked through.

I'll... I'll... I'll be all right.

You'll be laid up
with a cold, next thing.

No, I'll be all right.

I'll get the tea on.

Where you been all day, anyway?

Nowhere.

I... d-did go to the bank.

What for?

To draw out the money.

All of it?

Yeah. All of it.

Why?

I thought I might need it.

I don't understand.

You can trust me.

You know that, don't you?

Oh, yes. I trust you.

If I hadn't trusted you...

I wouldn't have married you.

You're all right with me.

Not tired of me yet?

- Shop, Adolf.
- What? What?

You'd better go.

Are you feeling all right?

I find I have to go out this evening.

You over from the continent?

You do understand English.

Oh, yes.
I understand English.

Did you know Mr. Verloc
in France, perhaps?

I've heard of him.

Adolf.

- You're not going out
with all that money on you?
- Money?

Oh. Yes.

No.

- You know that man?
- I've... I've heard of him.

He's not one of those embassy people
you were talking about?

Embassy people?

I could cut their heart out
as soon as look at them.

Get rid of him as quick as you can
and come back home to me.

You want looking after.

I can only help you
if you tell me everything.

- You understand that, don't you?
- I'll tell you everything.

Husband in by any chance,
Mrs. Verloc?

- No. He's gone out.
- I wanted a word with him.

I'd wait if I thought
he wasn't going to be too long.

Any idea where he's gone?

He didn't say.

I think you know who I am.
I'm a policeman. You know that.

I try not to bother my head
about these things.

My name is Heat...

Chief Inspector Heat...

of the Special Crimes
Department.

Oh, yes?

So, your husband didn't say
when he'll be back?

He's out with someone.

- Friend?
- No. Just someone who called.

Would you mind telling me
what this "someone" looked like?

Tall, thin fellow.

Sort of foreign-looking.

Damn it.
I thought as much.

In that case, I think
I won't wait for your husband.

You're very calm...

but I expect you could give me
a pretty good idea about what's
going on if you felt like it.

What is going on?

There's something else.

A small matter.
Perhaps you might be able to help us.

Yes?

We've come into possession of...

of what we believe
might be a stolen overcoat.

We're not missing an overcoat.

In the overcoat, there is a label...

with this address
written in purple marking ink.

- Well, that must be my brother's.
- Could I have a word with him?

- He's not here.
- Where is he?

Staying with a friend in the country.

- Has he got a name, this friend?
- Michaelis.

Oh!

Excellent. Yes.

Now we're talking.

So, Michaelis had
nothing whatever to do with this affair?

No.

It was just that Stevie,
my brother-in-law...

he was stayin'
at his house in the country.

I collected him
about 8:00 this morning.

Told Michaelis
I'd bring him back tonight.

We took the train
to Maze Hill.

Arrived, I don't know,
about 11:00.

In the park...

I primed the bomb...

and sent him off
with it.

I was fond ofhim, you know?

I was really fond of that boy.

I'm sorry.

Appalling place
you've brought me to.

Serves very well for the refugees
they send me over from the continent.

I suppose it's a question
of what you're used to.

All right. Let's get
down to business, shall we?

You see, it strikes me, Mrs. Verloc...

that you probably know more about this
bomb business than you're aware of.

What bomb business?
I don't know what you're talkin' about.

Bomb went off this morning
in Greenwich Park...

by accident, most like, since
one of the perpetrators was blown to bits.

And I have reason to
suppose that your husband...

might be able to help me
with my inquiries, that's all.

Adolf would never
get mixed up in anything like this.

I know that.

It's just information I'm after.

And you're quite sure
he hasn't spoken to you about it?

I take it you can identify this?

Yes.

Your brother...

Is he in the habit
of going about labeled?

He sometimes
gets a bit confused.

So I made that label
and sewed it in for him.

He's all right.

There's nothing wrong with him.

It's just sometimes he likes to go
see his mother on his own, and l...

I like to be on the safe side.

Is he a short, stocky fellow?

No.

He's tall and fair.

I don't understand. That label,
whatever did you tear it out for?

What do you want?

A word or two.

You'd better come upstairs, then.

Took a little while
for the penny to drop.

It was only while I was talking
with your wife just now...

that I realized you
must be the other man.

You gonna take me in?

I know who you've just been talking to.

It's his case now.

But I'm the one who traced you.
Make no mistake about that.

How?

Take a look at that.

What's she wanna try
a dodge like that for?

Made you an offer, did he?

He says if I cooperate fully,
I'll get two years, maximum.

Promises are easy.

If I was you, I wouldn't
trust him as far as I could throw him.

I've gotta trust somebody.

What you gonna tell them?

Everything.

You know me.
I'm always straight.

That's why I've been
so useful to you.

Lot of useful things
this is gonna put a stop to.

See, he was simple.

That was the trouble.

We went over it all
I don't know how many times.

It couldn't have been easier.

I was just standin'there,
waiting.

Then you heard the bang.

Came too soon, you see.

That's when I knew he'd gone.

Oh.

I don't know
what could have happened.

We've been able to
piece it together, more or less.

Looks like
he stumbled over a root.

You're right about him being gone.
His head and feet were still there.

The rest ofhim, they had
to scrape up with a shovel.

Couldn't you take me in tonight?
I'd come quietly.

I daresay. But by tomorrow morning,
this isn't gonna be my case anymore.

Thanks to your new friend.

Jail's the only safe place for me.

They'll all be looking for me now.

If I'm not careful, I'm liable
to end up with a knife in me back.

You want my advice? Private advice
from Private Citizen Heat?

Clear out. Vanish.

We won't chase after you.
I can see to that.

Neither will your people.
They all think you're dead already.

How do you know?

I'd say they'd make a logical assumption
that it was your guts...

spread all over Greenwich Park,
wouldn't you?

He's a good man, Mr. Verloc.

I never meant any harm
to come to the boy.

You know that.

l... I couldn't think how
I was gonna break it to ya.

I sat for hours in the Cheshire Cheese
worrying me head off.

It can't be helped, Winnie.
What's done can't be undone.

Look, you want
to look at a fellow?

I never want to look at you
again as long as I live.

Come on, Winnie. Be reasonable.
This won't bring him back!

Well, supposin' it had been me you'd lost.
Where would you be then?

You know I don't
like to worry you.

Well, so l...

I didn't tell you what a spot
this embassy bastard had put me in!

Eleven years I've worked
for him. I've risked my life
I don't know how many times.

There's scores of those revolutionists
I've sent off to be caught red-handed.

The highest in the world has got me to
thank for still walkin' on their two legs!

Then this new swine turns up.

Ignorant.

Overbearing.
Thinks he knows it all.

I should've taken him by the throat...

and rammed his head
up that embassy chimney!

I'm sorry, hon. I haven't eaten all day.

I could've done too.

They wouldn't have dared call the police.
You know what I mean?

I love you, Winn.

You're gonna have to pull yourself
together sooner or later, my girl.

Perhaps you ought to go to bed.

What you need is a good cry.

I thought you were
like father and son.

What?

But you were just takin' him
away from me to murder him.

- Oh, now, hang on.
- And there was I, sure you'd
come home with a cold.

No, no, listen. I was upset!
I was upset about you!

And the boy, of course.

Listen, Winnie.

We're gonna
have to make plans.

Do you understand
what I'm saying?

I'm gonna have to get away.

And you're gonna need
to be extra careful.

They're gonna be
watching you all the time.

You're gonna be on your own...
for a while.

Till the right moment.

Then you can slip away
and join me.

- Abroad?
- Yeah, course abroad.

I don't want to make it easy for 'em
to catch up with me and do me in.

I think too much of you for that.

What about Ste...

Where you going?
Upstairs?

That's right.

A bit of rest and quiet.

Won't be long
before I join you.

Look at the time, Winnie.

Your mother'll be dead before
you get there. Show a bit of sense.

Look, I don't want to
make a point of this...

but you're the one who brought
the police here by sewing in
that label without tellin' me.

Now, take off your hat.

I can't do without you this evening.
Come on.

Sit down.

Oh, take the damn thing off!

That's more like it.

The boy's gone.

You think I wanted him
to blow himself up?

It was an accident.

Just as much as if
he was run over by a bus.

You're the one who kept pushing him my
way, telling me to take him out for walks.

If you look at it that way...

you'rejust as responsible
for his death as I am!

I wish to goodness
I'd never laid eyes on Greenwich Park.

Winnie...

- Winnie...
- Yes.

I know what'd do you good.

Come over here.

Come on.

Don't.

Aah!

I never wanted you.

All I ever wanted was
somewhere safe for Stevie.

What?

Mrs. Verloc.

- Mr. Ossipon.
- I was on my way to see you.

- You were?
- Yes.

- Where are we going?
- Will you help me?

Can't you take me away?
Out of the country tonight?

I don't think
there is a train till the morning.

Well, isn't there
somewhere you can hide me?

- No. I can't take you back to my lodgings.
- Somewhere else, then?

But I-I have
no money on me, you know?

- We anarchists are not very rich.
- I have money.

- How much?
- All the money.

- What do you mean?
- All the money he had in the bank.

Then we are saved.

What's the matter with you?

Don't understand
why you look so morose.

I'd heard you'd come
into a little legacy.

- Do you want it?
- What?

The legacy. You can have it, all of it.

So send off tomorrow
for certain chemicals, things that I need.

If this is all right,
I'll pass the bill to you.

Whatever you like.

Wait.
There is a midnight ferry
from Southampton to Saint-Malo.

- 10:30 from Waterloo, I think.
- Can we go back to the shop?

- The shop? What...
- I packed a case.

Well, all right.

It's upstairs on the floor.

Aah!

- A policeman... He spotted me.
- What?

If he comes in, kill me.

They'd hang me, Tom.
I can't bear the thought.

- Did you do that?
- He killed my boy.

Oh, my God. It was
the degenerate in the park.

- My Stevie.
- Oh, my God.

- The money's upstairs?
- No, it's on me.

Let's get out of here,
or we'll miss the train.

- You'd better let me have the money.
- Yes, Tom.

Wait here.

Yes?

Yes?

We should keep apart
until the train leaves.

Another one.

I tipped the guard, so
we'll have the compartment to ourselves.

You think of everything.

Extraordinary boy,
that brother of yours.

You were the only one that
took any notice of him, Tom.

I loved you for it.

Safe journey.

If I didn't know you better,
Ossipon, I'd conclude that
you're in the throes of remorse.

Pull yourself together.
Remorse is for the weak.

And weakness is the source
of all evil on this earth.

There's a time coming, and
it's gonna be sooner rather than later...

when this'll be understood
by governments as well as individuals...

that there can be no progress
and no solutions...

until you make a rational decision
to exterminate the weak.

I myself have no future.

But I am a force.

To the destruction of what is.