Man Against Crime

[Fenway's late arrival caused him to miss a fatal payroll robbery]

Mike Barnett:
Well, three people know about this for sure. I think I'll start with them.

Fenway:
Three people? Which three people?

Mike Barnett:
The late Mr. Theodore Hummel, the late Mr. Adams and the half hour late Mr. Fenway.

Ella Weaver:
I said I'd worry about Val.

Bill Weaver:
I read in the papers about the last two guys you worried about. Brother Ted's six feet under; Brother Val's holed up somewhere with a slug through him. They're only your brothers. Do me a favor - don't worry about your husband. It ain't healthy.

Ella Weaver:
You're a mechanic. Mechanics don't carry guns, especially guns like that.

Bill Weaver:
Yeah? What's wrong with it?

Ella Weaver:
I'll tell you what's wrong with it! That gun's an automatic and an automatic kicks out empty shells and the empty shells care picked up by the police and traced to the guy that sold it to you.

Bill Weaver:
You know everything, don't you, Ella.

Ella Weaver:
The shells came from a service automatic. That means taht the FBI can get in on the case. What do you want to do - play Wild Willie West with the FBI, you clown!

[last lines]

Mike Barnett:
Don't worry, Ella. The city will spend a lot of money getting your brother well so the state can spend a lot of money executing him.

Thorton:
Are these the dice you were using?

Mike Barnett:
Don't point those at me - they're loaded!

Mike Barnett:
You're an out-of-towner, Thorton. Before you pushed a parcheesi game, you should have read the penal code.

Thorton:
Maintaining a public nuisance. I can afford that, too.

Mike Barnett:
That's Section 971, but can you afford Section 995?

Thorton:
What's that?

Mike Barnett:
It has to do with swindling. Roughly it means that a friend of mine is calling the cops right now.

Thorton:
Yeah?

Mike Barnett:
Yeah! So you be handy in the morning when the District Attorney institutes a civil suit against you to recover three times what you took from those people out there. That's 995 - can you roll a higher number?

[last lines]

Margaret:
[kisses Mike] There. That's all I can afford to pay you.

Mike Barnett:
Don't worry - Thorton paid me.

Margaret:
What? Well, you earned it.

Mike Barnett:
Well, not exactly earned it.

[hefting his loaded dice]

Mike Barnett:
Let's say I won it.

Dan Flynn:
You and Mr. Barron have met before?

Barron:
Hello, Barnett.

Mike Barnett:
Never socially. We've almost met professionally once or twice.

Mike Barnett:
Barron? He's strictly a cold-deck artist. He wouldn't bet on a tiddlywink game unless he could load the tiddles.

Jenny:
I'd like to start spending that money before the dollar is worth less than two cents.

Mark:
You don't crack a bank and go on a spending spree - you lay low; wait till the heat gets turned off.

Jenny:
[sarcastically] You've been reading the bank robbers manual!

Mark:
New York has got cops, too, you know.

Jenny:
Who's gonna recognize us, unless you put on a silk stocking on your head and I wear a clown make-up?

[last lines]

Mike Barnett:
You'll get your doll bandit in just a minute, Officer, but first, this character needs a little searching.

Jenny:
Isn't that usually done by a woman cop?

Mike Barnett:
Don't flatter yourself, baby. I mean your purse. I got a hunch - and I'm right! A bank deposit key. I'm surprised you trust banks. Hang onto that, Officer. It'll unlock seventy-five grand.

[Barnett suspects that Tanzi is plotting to kill him but can't prove it]

Albert Tanzi:
Can you find your way out of here?

Mike Barnett:
Sure! I can find my way back, too.

Stanley:
There's some supper for you. Pretty good - I had some, too.

Mike Barnett:
I thought your supper was a banana from the top of a tree.

Coast Guard Officer:
We got your message. What's this junket all about, anyhow?

Mike Barnett:
It was supposed to be a one-way cruise, Lieutenant, but your boys just made it round-trip.

[last lines]

Coast Guard Officer:
What's this case all about?

Mike Barnett:
The biggest case I ever worked on, Lieutenant: The Case of the Life or Death of Mike Barnett.

[last lines]

Mike Barnett:
[fires three shots from a handgun into the floor of the old man's room] That oughta bring a little help from the law. Sorry we messed up your room, Pop.