The Best Bartholomew Rusk Quotes

[Mr. Chandler is questioned by Inspector Rusk about the murders at the Inn]
Ethan: I'm not quite sure what I'm doing here, Inspector Rusk.
Bartholomew: Because... you're a mystery.
Ethan: And you don't like mysteries.
Bartholomew: I like order. And peaceable streets upon to walk.
Ethan: As do I.

[Inspector Rusk talks to Ethan Chandler about the murders at the Mariner's Inn when viewing at the Putney Wax display]
Bartholomew: When I was in the Transvaal... I saw lions feed. It was much like the Mariner's Inn. They were always tearing pieces off and stealing away.
Ethan: With a purpose... to eat.
Bartholomew: Not always. Sometimes a shock would run through the animals, like a tremor, for no reason at all. A kind of bloodlust. I often wondered if they remembered it afterwards... this frenzy. What do you think?

[Inspector Rusk tells Ethan Chandler his reason for no longer following him for the Mariner's Inn murders]
Bartholomew: No man involved with crimes like this can live with them forever. Better the quick hanging... than the slow torture of guilt, eh?

[Inspector Rusk goes over the crime scene of the murdered train couple]
Bartholomew: The train stops in the tunnel. The lights go out for a brief moment. No one in the carriages on either side saw anything. No one came and no one went. So how did he do it?
Junior: Sir?
Bartholomew: How did he come and go? Carrying a baby, no less... which apparently didn't squall or cry out in transit.
Junior: Perhaps he killed it here.
Bartholomew: Then why take it? And the wounds... like a surgeon. Precise and elegant. Unlike the other animal butchery we've seen. No, we're going about this all wrong. We're pursuing patterns of logic...
Junior: What?
Bartholomew: Magic.

[Inspector Rusk reveals to Ethan Chandler that he knows of his true identity]
Bartholomew: Good evening, Mr. Talbot. Yes. I have penetrated your fanciful stage name. Ethan Lawrence Talbot. Born the year of our Lord 1857 in the New Mexico Territory, enlisted in the United States Calvary March the 2nd, 1882. Your complete War Department dossier is currently being ferreted out from thick ledgers in various departmental agencies in Washington. When it arrives, I'm sure it'll make fascinating reading. Really... you would do well to make a clean breast of it. The quarry has been run to his hole. He has lost his anonymity and freedom of movement. He should know when he is captured.

[Inspector Rusk tells Ethan Chandler what he did after losing his arm while at the Putney Wax Works]
Bartholomew: When they cut off my arm, I was anesthetized. When I woke... I went and found it in a pile of discarded limbs, not unlike this tableaux.
Ethan: What did you do with it?
Bartholomew: Oh, I tossed it back. I just needed to finish the story in my own way. Write 'finis' in bold letters... and move on.

[Ethan Chandler talks to Inspector Rusk about monsters]
Ethan: Are you a superstitious man?
Bartholomew: Not by nature. But I'm learning to be. And the things I have seen over the years, Mr. Chandler, have made me a bit mad, I think. Set a thief to catch a thief.
Ethan: And set a monster to catch a monster?
Bartholomew: Very like. My less monstrous colleagues will be on duty night and day, you can be assured.

[Ethan Chandler threatens Inspector Rusk for if he's cornered]
Ethan: Cornered animals are the most dangerous.
Bartholomew: But they are cornered, nonetheless.

[Inspector Rusk tells Ethan Chandler about the phantom limb]
Bartholomew: Do you know the medical neurosis called the phantom limb? It's not uncommon when people lose an arm or a leg or such. I lost my arm, when I was constantly reaching things with it. It seemed so real, but it wasn't. More and more, I think this is all some... sort of phantom limb. Something is going on here which is not an actual arm or leg. Something not quite real... but completely true.
Ethan: You mean otherworldly?
Bartholomew: That's precisely what I mean. I couldn't codify it in a report log, nor could I capture it in a crime scene photograph. This place, those people... and you... are a phantom limb.