Murder, She Wrote, Season 5

Lancaster:
In two day's time, Leonard Matoso arrives here from Africa to give a speech at Berkeley.

Randy Travis:
Oh, yes. A highly publicized, politically orchestrated event engineered to embarrass the entrenched regime in his own country.

Michael Hagarty:
Matoso is a can of petrol looking for a match.

(Jessica talks to a hooker in jail)

Veronica:
What ya in for, honey?

Jessica:
Oh! Uh... it's all a misunderstanding.

Veronica:
Yeah, I know what you mean. With me it was political.

Jessica:
Political?

Veronica:
Well, how was I to know he was the state senator?

Jessica:
Michael, what have you done to me?

Michael:
(Southern accent) Michael? Why, no, ma'am. Derek Dawson, of Peabody, Perkins and Proctor, at your service. And my professional advice is that you give no statement to the police. (Normal voice) I suspect they wouldn't believe you anyway.

Jessica:
Well, they certainly don't. And I'm sure I have you to thank for it.

Veronica:
Gee, honey, I had you figured for shoplifting or maybe kiting checks. But murder? Jessica, I knew you had class.

Axel Weingard:
The thieves here tonight are into stealing elections, not diamonds.

Miles Hatcher:
It's quite a soirée Mrs. Darrow is hosting here.

Dennis Stanton:
Yes. Yes. All the candidates lined up to kiss the lady's ring. Should be quite an evening.

Miles:
I didn't realize you were into politics, Dennis.

Dennis:
I'm not, Mr. Hatcher. I'm into parties.

Dennis:
Tell me, do you think the words of a truly good writer reflect her innermost fantasies?

Jessica:
You mean, do I ever feel overwhelmed by an urge to dispatch my enemies with the nearest available weapon? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I abhor violence.

Dennis:
Oh, me too. So messy.

NYPD Lt. Bert Alffano:
Look, lady, it's not much of a career, but it's the only one I got, and the last cop who bumped heads against City Hall is patrolling junkyards in Astoria.

Jessica:
And if it comes out that you are protecting a killer, where do you think you will end up?

Lt. Alffano:
You don't give a guy much room, do you?

(Covering for Penroy's death)

Helen Appletree:
We thought of calling off the (birthday) party, but he said he wanted everybody to come and enjoy themselves, didn't he, Lillian?

Lilian Appletree:
Yes. Those were his last words.

Jessica:
Sheriff, perhaps the ladies might give a little more information if you were a little more gentle.

Sheriff Mort Metzger:
Oh...You mean, less iron fist and more velvet glove.

Sheriff Metzger:
One thing you learn on the streets of New York: You can't judge by appearances.

Sheriff Metzger:
I've had years of experience dealing with slimeballs like them. Faced with a murder-one rap, they'll cough up the location of that money like a baby with the colic.

(When they discover the money stash)

Helen:
They're all so new. They're brand new!

Lilian:
Oh, that's all right. We'll run it through the washing machine like the gangsters do on television.

Jessica:
(Talking about a crossbow) Oh, my! That is a nasty-looking item. I never noticed it before.

Anne Lowery:
We use it on beginners who clog up the expert course.

Anne:
How could you humiliate me like that?

Mike Lowery:
That's very funny, darling. I've been meaning to ask you the same question for a week!

Pamela Leeds:
The business world can be very treacherous, like a downhill course laced with rocks.

Ed McMasters:
Well, you're welcome to join us, if you don't mind eating with a cop.

Jessica:
Oh, not at all! They're some of my favorite people.

Dr. Lewis:
This is absurd, Mrs. Fletcher! I am not a coroner, I'm a gynecologist!

Jessica:
I'm afraid, Doctor, that necessity creates strange bedfellows.

Minister Melnikov:
[after Jessica accuses him of committing the murder] I warn you, gentlemen, I have good friends on the Central Committee. One telephone call.

Inspector Bernicker:
Before you are making one telephone call, perhaps you would like to read this. [hands Melnikov an envelope] It's all very carefully documented on the microfilm. Anton's memoirs in code, names and dates. They tell of a young Russian officer, Melnikov, who collaborated with the Nazis.

Minister Melnikov:
Anton knew everything. We were young soldiers together in Leningrad at the time of the siege. He suffered most cruelly. But I was able to ensure my survival. Then after the war, Anton was unable to publish his books. He came to me. I was rising in the ministry, and I was able to find him jobs so that at least he could feed his family. He kept silent in exchange for a lifetime of protection. His and mine. And then when he was dying, I suppose he decided that he must free his tortured soul.

Vera Gerakaris:
[after Jessica accuses her of orchestrating the murders] Are you saying that I killed Pete? I mean, is that it? For what? A plugged nickel?

Jessica:
For what you believed you'd receive. Flora didn't know anything about Pete's insurance policy. It hardly seems likely that a girl who expects a quarter of a million dollars would jump at every chance to get out of town before she's paid off.

Sheriff Tugman:
You didn't even make it sporting. You clubbed that poor, drunk slob from behind. Then you rolled him under that lift to make it look like an accident. I was too smart for you, girlie. I knew it wasn't no accident. You hadn't counted on that, had you?

Vera:
Not in a million years.

Terence Locke:
What about you, Mr. Desmond? We're heading into LA.

Desmond:
That's very kind of you, but I'm afraid I've already been to Los Angeles. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that one should never look back.

Miriam Harwood:
The only books I ever read are romantic novels with happy endings.

Phyllis Grant:
I like realism. Lots of tall, attractive, single men fighting over one mature working lady.

Ideal Molloy:
Well, I always look at the cover. If the man is bare-chested, and the woman isn't, I buy it.

Jessica:
I've got a lot of obligations.

Dr. Seth Hazlitt:
To whom, Jess? Now, a few years back, you needed this writing to help you get through the empty days and lonely nights. I know that. I went through it myself. But Frank's a long time gone now, just like my Ruth. And another best seller, or ten best sellers, are not going to fill that void.

Jessica:
Seth, I know that.

Hazlitt:
Maybe yes and maybe no. All I know is that if Frank Fletcher were still around, you wouldn't be spending half your life chained to that typewriter and the other half chasing around the country. No, sir. You'd be out smelling the salt air at sunrise.