Top 250 Quotes From Mannix

[first lines]
Emory: [hiding in the shadows] Mr. Mannix?
Joe: That's right.
Emory: I must talk to you.
[walks over to Mannix]
Emory: I... I've been waiting for hours.
Joe: Come in.
Emory: Thank you.
[Mannix unlocks his office door and they walk in]
Joe: You did say "neat", Mr...
Emory: Davis. My name is Davis. Emory Davis. Thanks. Well, it's difficult to know how to begin, since one no idea how you feel about the supernatural.
Joe: Well, I live in a pretty factual world, Mr. Davis, but I do try to keep an open mind.
Emory: Well, that's all I ask. See, for years, I have been the recipient... no, more truthfully the victim of flashes of precognition. I can actually see bits and pieces of events before they really happen. Not just dreams, Mr. Mannix. Events that really happen.
Joe: Well, the crystal ball has been around for a long time, Mr. Davis, and there may be people who can see into the future, and you may be one of those people. But, uh, I really don't see where a private investigator would fit in.
Emory: Please, hear me out, Mr. Mannix. Please.
Joe: All right, Mr. Davis.
Emory: For two days, I have been haunted by a vision. A beautiful young girl, wearing a polka dot dress, being shot by a man wearing a mask.
Joe: In your, uh, vision, could you tell me where this was all taking place?
Emory: Outside the Glenville hotel, downtown. There was a newsstand at the corner, and I could see the newsdealer and the headlines. These headlines.
[holds up a newspaper with the headlines, "Helicopter search for missing hikers"; Mannix takes the paper and sees the date "September 10, 1973"]
Joe: This is tonight's paper.
Emory: Exactly. It's going to happen tonight, if it hasn't already.
Joe: Have you, uh, talked to anyone else about this?
Emory: I went to the police, but I couldn't get past the desk sergeant. I was told that there are too many real crimes to add imaginary ones.
Joe: The Glenville Hotel. Well, that's not a neighborhood most people tend to visit late at night, especially a beautiful young girl.
Emory: But it is what I saw, Mr. Mannix. Oh, I haven't slept in days. I don't know who the girl is, but if anything were to happen to her, I could never forgive myself. I see the doubt your eyes, but I have no place else to turn. Isn't there something you could do, Mr. Mannix?
Joe: Well, Mr. Davis, uh, if you've given up two, three days of sleep, I guess I could give up a couple of hours- just to make sure it's nothing more than a vision.

Joe: Do you know why she has the idea she can fly?
Dr. Barbara Harley: Oh, yes, it's from Peter Pan. Her mother told her the story before she became withdrawn. Peter and Wendy and Captain Hook have become almost her whole world.

Joe: [Tom Wall enters Joe's office] Hi, Tom.
Tom: Hey, morning, Joe.
Joe: Oh, Peggy, this is Tom Wall, Ross' partner.
[turns to Tom]
Joe: Peggy Fair, my secretary.
Tom: Nice to meet you. All you private cops get such pretty ladies working for you?
Joe: Just the lucky ones.
[Tom smiles]
Joe: What brings you to our neighborhood? Where's Ross?
Tom: Ross and his wife are out at her parents' place in Simi Valley. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.
Joe: Sure, sit down.
Peggy: Would you like some coffee?
Tom: Yeah, fine. Cream, no sugar. Thanks.
[Peggy leaves to get the coffee]
Joe: What's on your mind?
Tom: It's about Ross.
Joe: Oh?
Tom: He probably seemed a little uptight yesterday.
Joe: Well, he sure did.
Tom: I guess he didn't tell you, but he's up for a big promotion in New York. And the way he handles this Brastow thing, well, it'll be a big factor.
Peggy: [gives Tom his coffee] Here you are.
Tom: Thanks.
Joe: I guess he's got reason to be a little skittish.
Tom: Right. And also, uh... it's his wife. I got to talking to her yesterday, and... she's not crazy about his being a line detective. Wants him behind a desk in an office... away from the flying bullets.
Joe: I guess my story about being shot at last night upset Mary.
Tom: Yeah. Yeah, it did a little. I just wanted you to understand, Joe. I only had a minute. I've got to go.
Joe: Anything new about Brastow?
Tom: I checked this morning. Still got a tummy-ache.
Joe: Oh, that poor fella.
Tom: Yeah.
[gives Peggy the coffee cup he drank from]
Tom: Thanks for the coffee.
Peggy: Anytime.
Tom: That's very nice.
[walks out the door and leaves]

Phil: [Joe arrives at his house where a party is being held] I don't believe it! Joe Mannix!
Joe: How are you, Phil?
Phil: I thought it was you, but... Gee, you look great. It sure has been a long time since...
Joe: Yeah, since we wore uniforms that didn't fit.
Phil: Tell me, Joe, does anybody remember Heartbreak Ridge or The Iron Triangle anymore?
Joe: Well, those were there, I guess. We were sure kids then, weren't we?
Phil: You know something? You've hardly changed. I can't say the same about myself, though. This, uh, easy living. I keep telling myself I've to get to a gym, but who's got the time? Come on, let's have a drink. What are you doing here, anyway? Who are you with?
Joe: Oh, now don't tell me you don't know who you invite to your own parties.
Phil: Not always, apparently. It must have been Kathy's idea and a good one, too. You know, I'm always telling her about you, Joe. It's great to see you again. What'll you have?
Joe: [to the bartender at the bar they're sitting at] Scotch on the rocks.
Phil: Make that two. Well... to success.
Joe: It looks like you've already got it.
Phil: Mmm, not quite. I'm only a VP, but I'm up for President. Westland National Bank. The Board meets in the next day or two to decide, so hold your breath for me.

Anne: Thank you for coming so quickly.
Joe: Well, you sounded upset this evening.
Anne: Someone broke into my apartment.
Joe: Did you call the police?
Anne: They left just a few minutes ago.
Joe: Well, I, uh, don't really see how I can help you any more than they could, Miss Avery. Things like this happen every 30 seconds in Los Angeles.
Anne: Not like this.
[shows Joe that her apartment has been ransacked]
Anne: Lieutenant Malcolm said he couldn't spare any men to help guard the place, and if I were too frightened, I should think about hiring a private detective. He mentioned you. I am frightened, Mr. Mannix. I'm scared to death. I think I must have interrupted whoever it was before he finished. My bedroom hasn't been touched.
Joe: Before he was finished? You think he was after something specific?
Anne: Yes. A million dollars.
Joe: That seems like an awful lot of loose change to keep in an apartment.
Anne: My father was William Avery. He was killed yesterday in an automobile accident. You may have read about it.
Joe: He was, uh, released from prison yesterday morning after serving ten years.
Anne: For stealing a million dollar payroll.
Joe: Which, uh, someone now thinks you have.
Anne: I don't have it, of course. And neither did my father, not ever.
Joe: You believe he was innocent?
Anne: Oh, I know he was. He told me, and I believed him.
Joe: Were you very close?
Anne: Not until recently. He and my mother were divorced when I was just a child, a long, long, time before he went to prison. I lived with her until she died a few years ago. I sent him Christmas cards, and every once in a while, a letter. Sometimes he answered. And then a few months ago when he knew he was going to get out, he wrote me and asked me to come and visit him. I did quite a few times. We got to know each other very quickly, and made up for a lot of years. We talked about my life, my friends. I know he was innocent.
Joe: Obviously, someone thinks otherwise. Miss Avery, exactly what would you like me to do?
Anne: Find out who it is. Tell him I don't have the money. Tell him I have no idea what happened to it, and neither did my father.
Joe: We'll... I'll do what I can. Tell me, how much do you remember about your father's trial, names of witnesses, things like that?
Anne: Not a thing. My father's lawyer could help you, though- Lawerence Corwin. His offices are in Beverly Hills.
Joe: I'll talk to him. I don't think you better stay here for the next day or two. Uh, I'll find some friendlier surroundings. Now, why don't you pack a few things in a bag and I'll be back after you about 5:00?
Anne: Fine.

Anne: Look, I may not tell the truth, but I certainly never lie!

Joe: [sitting at the counter of Lou Weldman's bar] Hi, Lou.
Lou: What do you know, Joe?
Joe: [referring to Weldman's dog] How's Harry?
Lou: Still the mathematical genius.
Joe: How's his spelling?
Lou: Spelling?
Joe: Can he spell the name Archie Preston?
Lou: He's a smart dog, but he ain't that smart.
Joe: But you are, Lou. Where can I find Archie Preston?
Lou: I'll tell him you want to see him when he comes in.
Joe: First, I'll take a look in the back room.
Lou: There... there's nobody there.
Joe: Well, I'll take a look anyway. Oh, Lou, you press that button, and I'll sic Harry on you.

Joe: Y'know, for a group of close friends there seems to be a lot of tension going on.
Diana: Well, maybe that's what went wrong. You know, like an atom bomb. You can get critical mass together and it just explodes.

Bruno: Mr. Mannix... I don't send for you to come to this house in, uh...
Joe: Pasadena.
Bruno: Yeah. No, I never even heard of you before my friend telephoned and told me what happened. You have my word.
Joe: Of course.
Bruno: Now that we have talked, was it like my voice?
Joe: Yes, it was.
Bruno: They have that much knowledge of me then?
Joe: Apparently.
Bruno: But why? Why would they want to call you?
Joe: That's one of my questions.
Bruno: You don't believe me, huh?
Joe: Frankly, Mr. Raphael, at this point, I don't know what to believe.
Bruno: No matter. You are a very serious man. I'm glad she has you, my granddaughter.
Joe: Thanks.
Bruno: When I hear about this attack on my granddaughter, I... I'm shocked. Do you understand? In my time, it could not be. Oh, never could such a thing happen. It is these young men today. They have no respect. No traditions. They will pay. You will take me to see Susan, please.
Joe: Mr. Raphael, there are other ways you can help.
Bruno: If you want my help, you will take me to her.

Sheriff: If you bring in there busloads of non-union pickers in broad daylight, you're asking for trouble.
Charlie: I know that, Sheriff. That's why I'm talking to you.
Sheriff: There's only me and two deputies, and that's not going to be enough, Mr. Apellini.
Charlie: All right, what do you expect me to do? Let my grapes rot on the vine?
[Joe pulls up outside]
Charlie: I'm sorry, Sheriff, but that's the way it's got to be.
[the doorbell rings, Apellini walks over to the door and answers it]
Charlie: Oh, Joe. Did you change your mind about coming to dinner?
Joe: [walks in] It's a business call, Charlie. Glad you're here, Cisco.
Sheriff: What happened, Joe?
Joe: A few minutes ago, somebody used a shotgun on my father's house and my car.
Charlie: And that brought you right here.
Joe: A witness saw an Apellini truck drive off just after the shots were fired.
Charlie: This ranch owns 20 trucks, Joe. Come on, you gotta do better than that. Did your witness see who was driving?
Joe: Try Harry Nelson.
[brief pause]
Charlie: [walks over to a phone and dials] Send Harry Nelson up here. I don't care what he's doing! Send him up here now!
Helen: [entering in on Joe, Charlie, and Sheriff Madeiros] Well, sounded like a fight was going to start any minute.
Charlie: Oh, we were just talking a little business, honey. Sorry if we disturbed you. Joe, I'd like to have you meet my wife Helen. This is Joe Mannix, honey. You know the Sheriff.
Sheriff: Hello.
Joe: Mrs. Apellini.
Helen: Well, a pleasure. I'm sorry I interrupted, Charlie, but your dinner is getting cold.
Charlie: You go right ahead, honey. I'll be along in a minute.
Helen: All right.
[leaves]
Charlie: [there's a knock on the door] Come in.
Harry: You want to see me?
Charlie: Yeah. Mannix and the Sheriff here want to know if you left the ranch tonight.
Harry: No, sir. I've been down in the maintenance shed helping the boys with the crating equipment.
Joe: Can you prove that?
Harry: I don't have to prove anything to you.
Sheriff: You may have to prove it to me.
[long pause]
Harry: Tell him, Mr. Apellini.
Charlie: Yeah. That's right. I remember now. I was there a little while ago, and he was there.
Sheriff: You may have to swear to that in court, Mr. Apellini, if Joe signs a complaint.
Charlie: That's his decision, Sheriff. Joe, you walked yourself right into a hornet's nest here. I'd consider it a personal favor if you just let things settle down. Sheriff Madeiros is well qualified to handle things here in Summer Grove.
Joe: I'll give it some thought.
Sheriff: Gentlemen.
[he and Joe walk out the door and leave]

Noah: [sitting down at stable having lunch with Joe] Did you read about last night's shooting?
Joe: Which one?
Noah: You know, I date back to a time when a lethal weapon fired at a human being was still news, and the not daily trivia of urban life. No, I meant the shot fired at my client, Dr. Graham Aspinall.
Joe: I read about it.
Noah: I suppose if all the knowledgeable people in the world were to compile a list of men least likely to be shot at, Dr. Aspinall would be in the top ten. You have to take my word for that, because I'm sure you know nothing at all about his work.
Joe: It's a new surgical technique, isn't it, for inoperable tumors?
Noah: Yeah. Well, you surprise me. Yes, it's for tumors previously considered inoperable, which brings new hope to countless thousands of people, not to mention the lives that he's already saved with his own hands. Now, who in heaven's name, would want to destroy a man like that?
Joe: The police seem to think it was a prowler, an addict, looking for narcotics in a doctor's home.
Noah: It's a very common occurrence, apparently.
Joe: But you don't believe it?
Noah: No. I do believe it. So does Dr. Aspinall.
Joe: Then why call me?
Noah: Mrs. Aspinall... she's European, and she's accustomed to the American way of life. So your job will be to restore her peace of mind, unless, of course, she's right.
Joe: Does, uh, Mrs. Aspinall suspect anyone?
Noah: Well, if she does, she hasn't confided in me.
Joe: Would she have confided in her husband?
Noah: I seriously doubt it.
Joe: Then, uh, who would you suggest I talk to?
Noah: Well, now, aren't you the man who refuses to be told how to do his job? Good day, Mr. Mannix. Did my secretary arrange for your expense account?
Joe: Yes.
Noah: Good. Take care of the check.
[walks up from his seat and leaves]

[last lines]
Lew: [while at soda fountain] I have something for you.
[He hands Mannix an envelope]
Joe: C'mon, I'll buy you a drink.
Lew: Thanks.
[to the soda jerk]
Lew: Two chocolate sodas please.
Joe: What's this?
[He opens the envelope]
Lew: Oh that. It's a bill for Parker's time.
Joe: [Astonished] You're kidding. For ten minutes?
Soda: One scoop?
Joe: Better make it a double.

Joe: Good morning, Mrs. Bramante. I believe you were sent word about me. Please.
Alison: I'm not used to being handled.
Joe: Of course. I can understand how unpleasant this must be for you. But I'm sure George Oliver will have you out of here in no time at all. I doubt if the District Attorney thinks you'll make a run for the border.
[Bramante puts on her sunglasses]
Joe: I'd rather you didn't put those on.
Alison: Then don't stare at me.
Joe: Sorry, bad professional habit.
Alison: I understand my husband has retained you to help on my case.
Joe: Actually, Mrs. Bramante, I haven't decided to take your case yet. There are a few things I'd like to know first.
Alison: What sort of things?
Joe: For one, did you do it?
Alison: I don't know. I mean, I don't know what really happened. And right here and now, I'm not even sure I did happen.
Joe: I'm afraid it did happen, Mrs. Bramante. I'd like you to try and remember everything you can.
Alison: I've been through it all with attorneys and the police.
Joe: I'd like you to go through it again with me.
Alison: I'm sure you've heard it already.
Joe: There may be something new you'll remember that could help. Now, as I understand it, the party was underway on the bow when you happened to see Nikky Lorenzo leaving.
Alison: Sit down. I saw Nikky leave the party, so I followed him.
Joe: Why?
Alison: I wanted to talk to him.
Joe: About what?
Alison: A personal matter.
Joe: Personal matter? You followed Nikky?
Alison: To his stateroom. When I got there, I heard voices. I knocked. There was no answer, so I knocked again. I opened the doors. It was dark, I couldn't see anything, so I stepped inside. Nikky was standing with his back to me. He started to turn. That's when it happened-- a terrible explosion and then a scream. And I think a second shot. I saw Nikky fall. Then...
Joe: Then what?
Alison: Someone ran past me.
Joe: Who?
Alison: I don't know. All I could see was Nikky lying there and the gun beside him.
Joe: Your gun?
Alison: It looked like mine. I keep it on the yacht. That's why I picked it up.
Joe: You said you heard a scream.
Alison: It could've been mine.
Joe: And you have no idea who ran past you?
Alison: No.
Joe: Man or woman?
Alison: I don't know.
Joe: Considering Nikky's reputation, a woman seems to be the logical choice. Uh, how did Nikky happen to be on the trip?
Alison: We invited him.
Joe: You and your husband?
Alison: I invited him. Now, listen, however it is you are trying to say it, Mr. Whatever Your Name Is, and whatever cheap and offensive innuendos you are trying to use, I was not having an affair with Nikky Lorenzo and I don't need to hide behind these to say so! If my husband thinks I'd even consider accepting any help from you, he's very wrong. Now get out.
Joe: Mrs. Bramante, you may find you need me. I may be the only person who isn't fully convinced you're guilty. By the way, the name is Joe Mannix.

Minh: [opens the door to her apartment] Mr. Mannix. Come in, please.
Joe: Thank you.
Minh: I have a photograph for you. It's over there.
Joe: [looks around the apartment] Say, this is, uh, very nice.
Minh: Thank you.
[shows Joe a picture of her husband, Allan McIver]
Minh: This is Allan.
Joe: Mm. Plays poker, favors bourbon, um, down-to-earth, and has a Tennessee drawl.
Minh: You have been working, haven't you?
Joe: Yeah, with some help. I was thinking about the night he left, his saying he was going out for "a spot of business," I believe you told me. Now that doesn't sound like a boy from Tennessee.
Minh: No. Allan didn't say that.
Joe: Who did say it?
Minh: The woman who called. I answered the phone.
Joe: Who is she? Do you know?
Minh: I thought she was from the airline office. I remember she said, "Would you put him on, please? I have a spot of business I want to discuss with him." Mr. Mannix... you don't think that he's...
Joe: Mixed up with a woman? Not that way. No more than you do.
Minh: I don't understand.
Joe: Help me to understand, Mrs. McIver. Help me to understand how a man who could put away almost $90,000 for six months work could have a money problem.
Minh: $90,000?
Joe: Yeah, that's what his bank account shows, almost to the penny.
Minh: I don't know anything about that.
Joe: Only that his problems were about to be solved? How? Now you can't possibly have a money problem at $90,000 a year unless you wanted more money. Don't you agree?
Minh: I don't know.
Joe: This isn't pilot salary we're talking about, Mrs. McIver, not that kind of money. So why don't you level with me? The truth for once, what you're really thinking.
Minh: You have no right to talk to me that way.
Joe: One question. Why did you wait days before reporting him missing?
Minh: I kept hoping he would come back.
Joe: And you wouldn't have to open up something that might bring the police on the run. I had no proof he was doing anything wrong. I still have no proof. But you have senses, intuition, like I have. When I find out a pilot's been banking more money than he should, I start thinking about smuggling. I see contraband, like gold, uncut diamonds, jade, narcotics, maybe even people. What do you see, Mrs. McIver?
Minh: [hesitates before answering] Allan needed all this. I found out that... that nothing- not me, not anything in the world- mattered to him as much as money. It was his whole life.
Joe: [sighs] Let's hope that isn't what it's cost him.

Wallace: Mannix, I'm paying you to find some kidnappers, not run a confessional!

Lisa: Are you Mr. Mannix?
Joe: That's right.
Lisa: My name is Lisa Ralph. May I come in?
Joe: Of course.
Lisa: I'm sorry to break I like this.
Joe: Well, that's perfectly alright, Ms. Ralph.
Lisa: Uh, Mrs. Ralph.
Joe: Please, sit down.
Lisa: Thank you. I've never hired a private detective before. Is it alright if I give you a retainer tonight and...
Joe: Oh, now, let's not rush into this, Mrs. Ralph. Uh, I like to know a little bit about a case before I take it.
Lisa: Yes, of course.
Joe: Excuse me. Now uh, what makes you think you need a private detective?
Lisa: I think someone is trying to kill me.
[Joe abruptly looks up at her. Outside, the man who was following Lisa Ralph walks up to the outside of Joe's apartment]
Lisa: I jumped out of my car right past the tunnel. He chased me all the way back to the observatory, and I got away on a bus.
Joe: Can you, uh, describe the man?
Lisa: I didn't get a good look at him. I was running away.
Joe: Have you any idea why someone would want to kill you?
Lisa: No.
Joe: Why didn't you go to the police?
Lisa: I have personal reasons.
Joe: Mmm. Too personal to tell me?
Lisa: No, I suppose not. Mr. Mannix, uh, could... could I please have a brandy?
Joe: Of course.
Lisa: If I go to the police, my husband will know where I am.
Joe: And, uh, you wouldn't want that?
Lisa: No. I'm leaving him.
Joe: Where is your husband?
Lisa: He's at our home in San Francisco.
[Joe gives her the brandy he poured for her]
Lisa: Thank you. All he knows is that I came or Los Angeles to my father's estate.
Joe: Uh-huh. Was it a large estate? I mean, could that be the reason somebody would want to kill you?
Lisa: There is practically no estate at all. My father was a professor.
Joe: I see. Tell me, Mrs. Ralph, exactly what do you want me to do?
Lisa: I want to know who was after me and why. And there's my car. Could you drive me there?
Joe: Well, I, uh... I think I better go after it alone. I'll grab a can at the corner. You see, there, uh, maybe somebody waiting up there, hoping you'll come back.
Lisa: I didn't think of that.
[gives Joe the keys]
Lisa: Here's the key.
[Joe looks at the key]
Lisa: What is it?
Joe: I was just thinking that, uh, even though you were running for your life, you had the presence of mind to grab the car key.
Lisa: A habit, I suppose.
Joe: Yeah. Of course.
[walks towards the door and grabs his coat]
Joe: I'm going to, uh, lock this door.
[Lisa Ralph nods as Joe opens the door]
Joe: Don't open for anyone... except me.

Pete: Mannix? I got some medical advice for you, for your health. Get on a plane, get back to L.A., and stay there.
Joe: I suppose this prescription came straight from Dr Conforti?
Pete: No, Dr. Luger.

Joe: It was Brastow.
Lt. Adam Tobias: From the prison infirmary?
Joe: You know what I mean.
Lt. Adam Tobias: Come on, you gotta be kidding. You make at least one mortal enemy a month. This could be any one of them.

Joe: Mrs. Cornell?
Brooke: Hi. If you're Fluffy the Clown, you can change your costume right in that room. Oh, and you better hurry, because the kids will be here directly from school.
Joe: I'm afraid I'm not Fluffy.
Brooke: Oh.
Joe: My name is Joe Mannix.
Brooke: Well, you must have the wrong address. Oh, but while you're here, would you mind handing me that tape?
[gets the tape from a nearby table and hands it to Cornell]
Joe: There you are.
Brooke: Thanks.
[places the tape]
Brooke: There. Do you like it?
Joe: Very, very nice.
Brooke: Now you just tell me who you're looking for and I'll steer you to the right house.
Joe: I am at the right house, Mrs. Cornell. Laura Rand told me about you. I'm a private investigator.
[pause]
Joe: She really didn't want to give me your name. But you have my word that no one else will know why I came here.
Brooke: There's been some mistake.
Joe: This is an emergency. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come. Someone is blackmailing Laura. They've already killed Roy Benson and Belle Hogan.
Brooke: I don't want to hear any more.
Joe: All I want from you is a name. Any name you can remember from that time that you and Laura roomed together.
Brooke: That was so long ago.
Joe: There's got to be someone you remember. Someone you might have accidentally told about Laura's past?
Brooke: I never told anyone about Laura. You've got to believe me. Please, look, this is my daughter's eighth birthday. The children will be coming here. I swear, I don't know anything or anyone.
Joe: All right, Mrs. Cornell. I'm sorry if I interrupted. I won't bother you again.
[pause]
Joe: I got a feeling your daughter's a very lucky girl.
[walks towards the front and leaves]

Joe: No one sets out bear traps unless there are bears around.

Frank: Go on, I'm listening.
Cliff: The proposition's very simple, Mr. Sartino. Whatever George Kane used to pay you for the merchandise, I'll up it to 20%, plus...
Frank: Plus what?
Cliff: Half the cash out of the Denver deal.
Frank: [chuckles] Kane hijacked my shipment. All that money is mine.
Cliff: Half, or the money stays buried, Mr. Sartino.
[pause]
Frank: Buddy.
[Buddy walks up to Sartino]
Frank: Kid's ambitious, huh?
Buddy: Yeah.
Frank: This generation - they can't wait to take over.
[Elgin chuckes]
Frank: And that's you're after, right, kid, to take over?
Cliff: Only with your protection, Mr. Sartino.
Frank: [nods] Suppose I were to say yes. I could beat it out of you, but suppose I said yes. What happens if Kane beats the rap?
Cliff: He won't beat the rap.
Frank: You seem pretty certain. Kane's got a smart lawyer.
Cliff: I can fix it so it doesn't matter how smart his lawyer is.
Frank: How? You can't get to him, not with the cops sitting on him.
Cliff: Tomorrow, he'll be in courtroom number six - preliminary hearing.
Frank: Go on, I'm still listening.
Cliff: Anything might happen if you set it up right. George Kane's finished anyway. I mean, businesswise, he's dead. He can't operate. I can, Mr. Sartino. I'm a law student, I'm clean, there nothing in the computer about me, and I'll pay you 20% over the going price.
Frank: Okay. If what you say might happen happens, phone me. I'll listen even better then.
Cliff: [nods] Fine. Thank you, sir.
[shakes Sartino's hand and leaves]

Reverend: [catching Joe digging up the grave they buried the previous day] Hold it right there, Mister! Now, drop the shovel... and turn around real slow.
[Joe faces Walker and Gillis]
Reverend: You were warned to leave town.
Ward: You ain't very smart, Mister.
Reverend: See if he's got a gun.
[Gillis hands Walker the rifle he's holding and finds Joe's gun]
Reverend: Can you think of any reason why we shouldn't shoot you? Grave robber.
Joe: I wasn't planning to rob it, just open it.
Reverend: Why?
Joe: Curiosity.
Ward: Just who are you?
Joe: A private detective.
Reverend: Who hired you?
Joe: Mark Slocum's wife is worried about him. Afraid his plane may have crashed.
Reverend: Well, what makes you think that Mark Slocum is here in Gopher Flats?
Joe: Because Jeb Carter isn't.
[Gillis cocks Joe's gun]
Joe: I wouldn't pull that trigger. You don't think I'd come up here without some backup muscle? You'll never get away with it.
Ward: What if we try?
Joe: You'd be making a big mistake. You're not in any real trouble yet. Not murder, anyway, the way I figure it. Now, why don't you tell me exactly what happened? Maybe I can help you figure a way out of it.
Ward: Mister, you ain't gonna live long enough to help anybody.
[a gunshot fires; Joe pushes Walker and Gillis to ground and flees]

Joe: Eh, you've been a busy boy today. Does your mother know what you do for a living?
Stone: I'll tell her.
Joe: Move.

Katrina: Brian is gone! He's kidnapped! What have you done?
Dr. Cameron McKenzie: I have tried to avoid hysteria for one thing.
Katrina: Of course you have. Your reaction to nuclear war would be to become the most controlled cinder on earth.

Harvey: Testimony Voice Over: "I remember it all just the way it happened. It started when I saw this car pull up across the street. It looked kind of funny parked there and the lights turned out. Then I saw this
[expunged racial epithet]
Harvey: get out from behind the wheel. The way he looked up and down, I had an idea he was up to no good. I saw him slide into that alley and force the door of the pawnshop. So while he was in there, I figured I'd better get his license plate number. Just to play safe I wrote it down to be sure when I reported it. Then I heard steps coming out of that alley. Then I saw the
[expunged racial epithet]
Harvey: , the defendant over there. I ducked back into the shadows, but it was too late. I figured my one chance was to run for it, so I ran. I heard his car start up. I ran even faster when I heard the skid and screech of his wheels. I'm glad they caught him. I'm glad they caught him. He can fry."

Diana: Oh, welcome to the reunion, darling.
Joe: Reunion?
Alex: That's right, Joe. All the ghosts are here.
Joe: Good to see you, Alex.
Diana: Now what better place for a reunion of the Silver Ghosts?
Ross: That's right, Joe. In a ghost town. A lot of pollution's gone under the bridge since our final game.
Joe: How've you been, Ross? Hey, why this phony telegram from Mr. Webster? Who's he?
Tom: Webster? You don't recognize Webster? Come on, Joe-Joe. Webster U, huh? Thirteen to seven. The last game?
Alex: Yeah, we-we sent you that fake telegram because we figured you wouldn't come to a reunion.
Diana: Alex wanted to make sure of you.
Alex: It's no reunion without the team captain.
Tom: Lesley! Come here. I want you to meet Joe Mannix. Joe, this is my wife Lesley.
Leslie: I'm the outsider around here. But I've heard about you. You're a legend.
Tom: You see the build-up you get, Joe?
Dr. Hal Lusk: Joe never needed a build-up. You're looking good, kid. Haven't changed a bit.
Joe: Coming from a doctor, that's encouraging.
Tom: And encouragement calls for a drink. Let's belly up to the bar, boys.
Ross: Alex thought of everything. We've got cocktails set up in the saloon. Then we're going to ride to Vegas. Alex has reserved the entire eleventh floor at the Monarch.
Joe: Hal, how are you?
Dr. Hal Lusk: Just fine. How are you, Joe?
Joe: Fine.

[Joe Mannix looks at a photo of a missing young woman Intertect has been hired to find]
Lew: The girl's name is Angela Dubrio.
Joe: [surprised] Father, Samuel Dubrio? Used to head the rackets up twenty or thirty years ago? Now why would he call Intertect for help?
Lew: He didn't. He asked for my best man. If you laugh, I will fire you.

Lew: Joe, who are you going to punch in the mouth to get the information?
Joe: Does it make any difference?
Lew: A big difference, because we're rapidly approaching the point where no insurance company will handle our liability policy.
Joe: Well, I'll just try not to hit anyone who can afford a lawyer.

Joe: Dave!
Dave: Hey, Joe.
Joe: It's been a long time.
Dave: Too long. Hope I didn't louse up your game.
Joe: No problem.
Dave: I'd like you to meet Clint Carpenter.
Joe: Mr. Carpenter.
Clint: Dave tells me you flew together in Korea.
Joe: Yeah.
Clint: Side-by-side. He thinks you're the right man for the job, and I hope so.
Joe: Oh? What kind of job's that, Dave?
Dave: Well, to find out what's going on. Clint uses my dusting service. Biggest customer I've got, as a matter of fact.
Clint: And I soon won't be any kind of customer, Mr. Mannix. Somebody's out to ruin me.
Dave: They don't mind ruining me along with him. Two of my pilots have disappeared on the job.
Joe: Disappeared?
Dave: Gone, not a trace. Cars, belongings and all.
Joe: These, uh, pilots, they the kind that can be bought off?
Dave: Nah, not a chance. I knew them both for years. The first one, Harv Walker, came out of retirement to help me.
Joe: Well, what about the local law? Can't they come up with anything?
Clint: Well, there's a Sheriff Simkins. He's been sheriff for 15 years. He's good for writing out tickets and cleaning up after accidents, but that's about it.
Dave: Joe, here's our problem. Clint's stuck with a plague of insects. Thrips, they're called, chomping away at the oranges. At the rate they're going, a week, ten days is all we've got.
Joe: Well, it's, uh, not much time for an investigation.
Dave: Might be enough, Joe, if you could do the dusting yourself.
Joe: Me? Hey, Dave, that's precision flying.
Dave: That's right. So is landing a fighter on a carrier deck in a typhoon. You did that, didn't you?
Joe: Yeah, well, now that was different.
Dave: Joe, compared to those hot ships we were jockeying, the Ag Cat handles like a kite. I could check you out down here, and under the circumstances, I think I could get a waiver for a license.
Clint: Dave, uh, maybe Mr. Mannix doesn't like the idea of being a decoy.
Joe: Yeah, well, it's still a long shot, Dave.
Dave: That ever stop you before?

Joe: [wakes up in the middle of the night after drinking his spiked scotch with Elena sitting by his bed] You mind telling me what this is all about?
Elena: You want to get away from here, don't you?
Joe: Do you know a way?
Elena: Yes.
Joe: Well, what about you? Suppose they guess you're the one that turned me loose?
Elena: Harry will take care of me.
Joe: Harry who?
Elena: Harry Tass.
Joe: Harry Tass? Here?
Elena: You know him.
Joe: Yeah, I know him.
Elena: He wants you dead.
Joe: Yeah...
Elena: You'll have a good head start. They don't expect you to wake up until morning.
[starts unting Joe from the ropes he's bound to]
Joe: Hey, by the way, uh... thanks for that message. Otherwise, I might have finished that drink.
Elena: Shh!
[footsteps are heard retreating]
Joe: Are they all in the same business as Harry?
Elena: Yeah, it's a pool. You know, like a secretarial pool?
Joe: Only this is one for hit men. A place to cool off between jobs... draw weapons, get assignments. Is that why Harry's here, to get an assignment?
[Elena doesn't answer]
Joe: When? Where?
Elena: You better worry about yourself.
[frees Joe from the ropes that are tied around his wrist]
Joe: Who's Harry's target?
Elena: Drop it.
Joe: I know Harry Tass enough to know that he's only used for top jobs.
Elena: I said drop it.
Joe: Did he say anything? Give any hints?
Elena: Harry is my man. You're just passing traffic.
[frees Joe from the ropes tied around his feet]
Joe: Well... the man he's gonna kill must be somebody pretty important. Doesn't that mean anything to you?
Elena: No, not if it'll hurt Harry.
Joe: He's your man.
Elena: That's right. We can go now.

Lew: Now you know Intertect's policy about brawling.
Joe: Yeah, well, it got the job done anyway, Lew.
Lew: True. But Mannix, I run an organization, a large one. I have to have rules, a system. It's not perfect, no system is. It is, however, designed to get the most out of people.
Joe: [looks up sharply at Wickersham's last words] Not me.

Penn: Oh, Mr. Mannix. Well, I'm pleased to see you again.
Joe: It looks like you're coming along just fine.
Penn: Well, every day, I seem to get stronger and stronger.
Joe: Ah, good, good, good. Now, here you are, Mr. Anderson.
[hands Anderson some papers out of the briefcase he's carrying]
Penn: What's this?
Joe: Oh, they're the usual insurance forms. If you would look them over, and fill them out, it would certainly help speed things up.
Penn: Yes.
[looks through the forms]
Penn: Oh, yes. These look like very, very good copies.
Joe: Copies?
Penn: Copies. They're no more legitimate than you are an insurance man. Want a drink?
Joe: Yeah, I could use one. Scotch on the rocks.
Penn: Right. You know, Mr. Mannix, my wife has been acting rather strangely since my return. So the other day... I had one of my employees follow her. Where do you suppose she went?
Joe: To my office.
Penn: Exactly.
Joe: How about why she hired me? Any information on that?
Penn: Well, Mr. Mannix, I think it's safe to say the sort of thing I went through doesn't leave a man precisely the way it found him. Now, that's aside firm any changes of contour of the face or the nose or anything. However, it would appear that my wife, Kelly, thinks that I have changed considerably more than somewhat. I mean... she is more than merely puzzled. I suppose the whole experience of the airplane crash... the strain that it put on her, well, it was just very traumatic. The fact is, Mr. Mannix, that in the case of my wife, I feel that she needs quite another kind of specialist other than a private investigator.
Joe: Are you saying the dramatic change... is in your wife?
Penn: Yes. That's one way of putting it.
Joe: However, in your case, you must agree that there was some change in you before the crash... if in name only. You were on that plane as Martin Thompson.
Penn: Oh, that.
Joe: Odd thing to do.
Penn: No, no, not at all. Not if you're in the land development business. You see, Mr. Mannix, competitors are constantly snooping around, trying to get a line on what they think you are going to be doing next. Now, in this particular instance, I was on a very hot deal, so I merely took some precautions, that's all.
Joe: Tell me, Mr. Anderson, are any of those competitors rough enough to try and kill you?
Penn: What?
Joe: Well, let's say, try and run you down crossing the hospital driveway in a wheelchair?
Penn: [laughs] Now we're competitive, but we're not savage. No, Mr. Mannix, I think you're imagining things, and perhaps in your case, it is somewhat of a... occupational habit, I suppose.
Joe: Yeah, yeah, well, that could be. Anyway, thank you very much for the drink, Mr. Anderson.
Penn: Oh, well, thank you. Thank you for the visit. Listen, you put that bill of mine in the mail and I'll see to it that it's paid promptly.
Joe: Oh, no, no need for you to do that, Mr. Anderson.
Penn: Well, no. I mean, it's very generous, but...
Joe: Not at all. It isn't yours to pay. You didn't hire me. Your wife did.

Kit: [opens the door to her apartment] Joe.
Joe: Hello, Kit.
Kit: Hi. Come on in. Uh, can I get you anything, Joe? You want coffee to drink or something?
Joe: No thanks. I... didn't hear about Harry until just this morning.
[hands Kit a letter]
Joe: Was he in some kind of trouble?
Kit: I hadn't talked to him in more than two months.
Joe: Kit, just what happened between you two?
Kit: One blonde too many.
[Joe lights a cigarette for her]
Kit: Good, old, loyal friend, Joe, huh? You know, if this hadn't happened, and Harry called on you for help, I'll bet you'd have just come running, wouldn't you?
Joe: He would've done the same for me.
Kit: Harry never did anything in his life for anybody but Harry. That time he pulled you out of the burning half-track, he did it to prove he was the better man. You didn't know your old friend. You just didn't know him at all.
Joe: Kit, he's dead.
Kit: Then there's nothing more for you to do, so you can go back to Los Angeles. Please.
Joe: [sighs] Would you have any idea why someone would set up an apartment to make it look like as though it were mine?
Kit: No, I don't know why. But he's dead, Joe. It just doesn't matter anymore. Go home.
Joe: I think I'll stick around a while, Kit. I want to know who Art Butler saw yesterday. It certainly wasn't me. Anyway, if you think of something, give me a call. I'm sure I'm in the book.

Samantha: How did you get in here?
Joe: The, uh, back door was open.
Samantha: No. It wasn't.
Joe: It is now.

Travers: Oh, Mr. Mannix, I can't tell you how grateful I am you came by. Thank you.
Joe: I did get here in time, then.
Travers: Oh, indeed you did in time. Yes, that popcorn was on its way to my son's Cub Scout meeting tonight.
Joe: Oh, well, that wouldn't have been very good.
Travers: Look, I'd love to do something for you. Can I buy you a drink or something?
Joe: Oh, no, no, no. I'm afraid I have too many other stops to make. Thanks anyway.
Travers: Listen, let me tell you. I'm so... I appreciate it so much... I'm so very grateful.
Joe: Not at all. Good day.
Travers: Good day.

Joe: Mr. Sloan?
Harry: Yeah.
Joe: I'm Joe Mannix. Peggy Fair is my secretary. She's a friend of your boy in there. How is he?
Harry: They don't know yet. I'm going to get the guy who did this, you can count on it. Peggy Fair - Al's friend - she works for a private cop. Would that be you?
Joe: That's right. Any idea who did it?
Harry: I got more than an idea. Jake Coryell.
Joe: How does Coryell figure into this?
Harry: Find out for me, Mannix. I'll make it worth your while.
Joe: Now look, if you have any evidence, you better talk to the police.
Harry: [pointing at his heart] The evidence is sitting right here like a stone.
Joe: You'll have to do better than that, Mr. Sloan. Hunches belong at race tracks.
Harry: Look, if I spill this to the cops, the boxing commission will get to it. I got a license to worry about.
Joe: Are you telling me Coryell fixed the fight?
Harry: They tried, that's all, so help me. I can't go running to the boxing commission every time somebody stops me in the locker room. So I didn't tell them.
Joe: Well, tell me.
Harry: Now, listen, Coryell wanted Al to take a dive. Now, he's got to be kidding. That boy's going to the top in a year, two at the most. You saw the fight, he's a winner.
Joe: I'd say so.
Harry: I told Coryell no dice a week ago. I told him right off, Al's not going to take any dive for nobody. No, I told him, flat out.
Joe: And you don't think Coryell took no for an answer?
Harry: You saw what happened. Coryell tried to fix the fight himself.
Doctor: [walks out of the operating room] Mr. Sloan?
Harry: Yeah.
Doctor: He's lost a lot of blood, but the wound isn't critical. He was lucky.
Harry: Will he fight again?
Doctor: Well, it's a little too early to say if he was that lucky.
[walks back into the operating room]
Harry: Mannix, how about it?
Joe: I'll see what I can find out.

Joe: [breaking in on the Kane gang] Everybody just relax. Hello, Fingerman. You can keep feeding the kitty.
George: [coming up behind Mannix with a gun pointed at him] Hold it. Take it, Billy Lee.
[Billy Lee takes Mannix's gun]
George: You know him?
Fingerman: I believe the gentleman is a private detective by the name of Joe Mannix.
Joe: [sees the suitcase full of money] Oh, that's quite a bundle. How much heroin does it represent?
George: I'm in the real estate business.
Joe: Really? What did you sell, San Diego?
[Billy Lee giggles]
George: I have to deal in large amounts of currency. You can ask my lawyer, Mr. Fingerman.
Joe: Sure, Billy Lee and Ginger here, they're your bankers. Come off it, Kane. There was a shipment if heroin hijacked at the border last month, a syndicate shipment. What did you do, front for the sale, Fingerman?
Fingerman: Well, that's a very serious charge to make without any evidence, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Is it? I know a man whose daughter died from an overdose. Legally, the charge should be murder. She was only 16 years old.
George: Then I don't suppose she'll get any older, will she?
[knife clicks]
George: And neither will you, Mr. Mannix.
Billy: Now you just relax, Mannix.
[Mannix pushes Billy Lee out of the way, and a fight ensues; Billy Lee accidentally cuts his hand on Ginger's knife]
Billy: HE GOT MY HAND!
George: All right, you'll live through it.
Billy: IT'S BAD!
George: We'll fix it later, Billy Lee.
Ginger: Come on, let's get out of here. Maybe he tipped the cops.
George: All right, my office. Close up that suitcase and let's go.
Fingerman: Wait a minute, don't everybody leave at once. It's gonna look bad. Look, George, you leave with Ginger with and Billy Lee, and I'll follow with the kid. I'll bring the money.
[Kane, Billy Lee, and Ginger walk out the door as Cliff helps Fingerman re-load the suitcase of money]

Joe: Please sit down, Mr. Griswold.
Lou: Uh, first, Mr. Mannix, I... I owe you an apology. That stuff I spouted off at police headquarters about, uh, the world we're living in and people not becoming involved. Uh, I just wasn't thinking right. You are involved, and, uh, with a little bit of luck, uh, well, we might have an idea now who... who we're looking for. What I'm trying to sat is that, uh, I'm sorry, and uh, thank you.
Joe: How about a cup of coffee?
Lou: No thanks, but, uh... Mr. Mannix, tell me, uh, what do you get a day?
Joe: $100 a day plus expenses.
Lou: I'll give you two.
Joe: For doing what?
Lou: Last night, the man who murdered my wife, I want him caught. Then at least I can tell myself I did everything I could.
Joe: Now, Mr. Griswold, I know you must, uh, feel that you need to strike out at somebody, but I can understand that.
Lou: Look, Mr. Mannix, I didn't come here to be analyzed. I mean, I don't want just somebody. No, I want the man who killed my wife. I want the man who killed Harriet! Look, this is very... difficult for me to explain to you. I... We never had any children. I mean, my wife... Harriet was all I ever had. And I'm not gonna rest until I see that man trapped, and I can sit in a courtroom and watch him get what he deserves.
Joe: Mr. Griswold, Lieutenant Malcolm's on your case. You couldn't be in better hands.
Lou: Look, I know the police have hundreds of unsolved cases just like this one. Lieutenant Malcolm told me so. I don't expect them to drop everything and just concentrate on mine. But I thought someone like yourself, if I made it worth your while, you could help me.
Joe: Mr. Griswold, why don't you give the police a few days, and if nothing turns up, why then maybe I...
Lou: NOW, MR. MANNIX! I WANT YOUR HELP NOW! I know the police are doing everything they can, but I want more muscle. I'm prepared to pay for it. If takes weeks, months... Now this man, Kohler-- you said you think he saw the killing, right?
Joe: That's right, but when I talked to him, Kohler said he was watching television.
Lou: Well, then go to him again, talk to him again. Offer him money, bribe him. Threaten him if you have to!
Joe: Mr. Griswold, doing that could cost me my license.
Lou: Oh, come on, Mannix. When's the last time you did a job entirely by the book?
[Joe opens his office door]
Lou: I... I take that back. I'm sorry. You do it your way. But please, help me, Mr. Mannix, please.
Joe: All right, Mr. Griswold, I'll do what I can.
[Mr. Griswold leaves]

Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: [clears throat] Mr. Mannings?
Joe: Uh, Mannix.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Oh.
Joe: Joe Mannix.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Yes. Uh, you are...?
Joe: Private investigator.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Oh, yes. Well, what is it that you want from me? I mean, just what is your interest in my husband's death? Oh, the insurance company sent you, didn't they?
Joe: No, the insurance company didn't send me, Mrs. Jarrud. I was hired by someone to investigate your husband's death.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Who?
Joe: Do you mind if I ask my question first? Did Dr. Jarrud ever bring his private files home from the office?
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: I haven't the faintest idea. Would you like a glass of wine?
Joe: No thank you.
[Mrs. Jarrud pours a glass of wine for herself]
Joe: Mrs. Jarrud... my client has reason to believe that your husband's death was not a suicide.
[Mrs. Jarrud accidentally spills wine on her shirt sleeve. Joe offers her a handkerchief]
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Don't bother. It all comes out in the wash. Mr. Mannix, do you really believe that someone killed my husband?
Joe: I think it's a possibility.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Then you're as mad as he was. Poor Clem. If you had ever witnessed one of his depressions... He was like something out of a Russian novel. All that time spent with crazy people, I suppose it couldn't help but get to him. Mister... Mr. Mannix, the police are quite satisfied that it was a suicide.
Joe: Mm. Are you satisfied?
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: If you're still talking about insurance, my husband left me quite comfortably fixed.
Joe: Mm. Mrs. Jarrud... did your husband ever talk to you about the three patients he identified in his book as X, Y, and Z?
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Clem didn't think I had the brains to understand his work. He was quite right. It bored me.
Robert: Maybe that was your mistake, Mother. Maybe you should have shown more interest.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Robert, how long have you been standing there?
Robert: I just came down to see if you were feeling any better.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: I was... until this gentleman arrived. Mr. Mannix, this is my son Robert.
Joe: How do you do?
Robert: Hi.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Mr. Mannix is a detective. He has the remarkable notion that Clem was murdered.
Robert: Well, Mother, isn't that what I told you?
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Oh, you're a child.
Robert: I've read Father's book. Have you?
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: You know I haven't.
Joe: Have you, Mr. Mannix?
Joe: I've read it.
Robert: Then you know it might have been one of those three.
Joe: I've considered the possibility.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Mr. Mannix, exactly who is your client?
Joe: Uh, let's just say, uh, an interested party.
Mrs. Sylvia Jarrud: Hm. And you're determined to earn the money she's paying you. You see, I do have some talent for detection. Well, you can tell her she's wasting her money. Goodbye, Mr. Mannix. Robert, see him out.

Joe: You said that George Oliver, Mr. Bramante's attorney, directed you to me.
Bill: Yes, and then Snowy Bartlett told me he knew you personally.
Joe: [referring to a newspaper article about a party boat the previous day] I take it that, uh, this was Snowy's party yesterday.
Bill: Yes. I, uh, haven't had a chance to read that yet... but I can guess that it couldn't look worse for her.
Joe: I would say that's a good guess.
Bill: In any case, Mr. Mannix, I've been authorized to give you this as a retainer.
[gives Joe a small note]
Joe: I would say this is a bit premature.
Bill: Mr. Bramante is anxious that you start immediately to establish, uh, that the evidence against his wife is insufficient... or in some way faulty.
Joe: Or even, let's say, pointing in another direction altogether.
Bill: What is foremost in Mr. Bramante's mind is that his wife be exonerated. If, of course, out of that some other suspect emerges...
Joe: Then all to the good.
Bill: Of course.
[pauses]
Bill: I think you'll find that, uh, Nikky Lorenzo won't be universally missed.
Joe: Yes, I got that from Larry Lawton's column. Along with his crowing about being the only newspaperman at the party yesterday. Ah, here it is. "Sparkling Louise Bramante being stubbornly pursued by the inveterate romancer, Nikky Lorenzo."
Bill: Meanwhile, if I can be of some further help to you, Mr. Mannix...
Joe: Yes, you can start by expressing my thanks to Mr. Bramante for this amount of confidence in me, but I can't accept it.
Bill: You mean you won't take the case?
Joe: Not until I at least meet my client.
Bill: Mrs. Bramante?
Joe: Hmm.
Bill: I could arrange that immediately.
Joe: Good. Then we'll see.
[shakes hands with Moseley]
Joe: Oh, Mr. Moseley, you didn't mention it, but, uh, do you think it's possible that she didn't do it?
Bill: I'll say this- if, uh, she did, I'm certain that her reasons would be acceptable to any jury in the country. Good day, Mr. Mannix.

Joe: [starstruck by a beautiful bikini-clad actress] You're Carla Renata. I saw you in "The Lonely Street." I liked your walk.
Carla: Why, that picture was made in Italy three years ago. The Italian producers are only interested in sex. In France I became an actress.

Cal: Don't give me any more advice, Dad! You fouled out of the game a long time ago.

Sobol: Mannix is becoming a problem.
Adam: Yeah, I know.
Sobol: His being able to link you with Ada Lee worries me.
Adam: And now I'm afraid he's liable to involve my wife. I'll fire him in the morning.
Sobol: Not good enough. A man loses his job, he starts thinking about it.
Adam: I don't like violence.
Sobol: Can't be helped.

Peggy: [bringing Joe his morning coffee] Welcome to the world!
Joe: Is that where we are?

David: It's terrible, the reverence some people have for life.

Joe: Mr. Forsythe? Mr. Markel?
Jonathan: Do I know you?
Joe: The name is Mannix.
Jonathan: That doesn't tell me very much.
Joe: I'm a private investigator, employed by your wife.
Jonathan: Oh. Have I been investigated very long?
Joe: I was hired this afternoon.
Jonathan: Oh, you're very efficient, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Oh, there was another man on the job before me.
Jonathan: My wife must be spending a lot of money to get rid of me.
Joe: Well, it takes money to make money.
Jonathan: Could we discuss this someplace?
Joe: Any place you say.
Jonathan: Are you familiar with the San Tropez?
Joe: About a mile west of here?
Jonathan: Perhaps we could have a drink...
[puts his suitcase in the back trunk of his car]
Jonathan: ... and reach a gentleman's agreement?
Joe: Fine. I'll follow you.
Jonathan: Afraid I'm gonna run out?
Joe: Where can you run?
Jonathan: That's true.
[a car suddenly speeds toward them, and Joe pushes Forsythe out of the way]
Jonathan: You lead a dangerous life, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Well, he wasn't gunning for me.

[Arriving at Palm Springs International Airport, Joe Mannix waits for his rental car when Samuel Dubrio's chauffeur approaches, holding hat in hand, first offering a ride, then resorting to brandishing a .45 automatic pistol hidden in his cap. Mannix shrugs and walks to the waiting limousine as the car rental salesperson drives up with Mannix's rental car]
Car: Sir! Something the matter?
Joe: Not at all. He just tried harder.

Joe: Miss Allen, uh... please sit down.
Greta: Thank you.
Joe: Well, what can I do for you?
Greta: Are you familiar with the name Clement Jarrud?
Joe: The psychiatrist? Yes, I was just reading about his suicide.
Greta: It wasn't suicide.
Joe: The, uh, police seem to think so.
Greta: [hands Joe an envelope full of money] Will that buy three days of your time?
Joe: Well, that depends on what you want done.
Greta: Find out who killed Dr. Jarrud.
Joe: [thinks for a second] What makes you so sure?
Greta: We had an appointment. And I know he meant to keep it.
Joe: An appointment?
Greta: Yes. I was... closer to him than anyone alive. Including his wife. Dr. Jarrud loved his work... and he loved me.
Joe: Do you have any idea who might have wanted him dead?
Greta: [takes out a book from her purse and shows it to Joe] X, Y, or Z- the three patients for whom he sacrificed most of his practice last year. I begged him to tell me who they were... just in case. I was worried, with the book coming out. What if one of them recognized himself and... and felt betrayed or exploited? After all, each one of them had murdered before. And Clem insisted it was a book that had to be written. Read the book, Mr. Mannix. It will show you the danger that he was in right from the start.

Jaycie: Mr. Mannix?
Joe: Yes.
Jaycie: Billy Moss said you wanted to talk to me.
Joe: Ah, you're Jaycie.
Jaycie: He said you were asking about Mr. Brady.
Joe: Yeah, did you know him?
Jaycie: Just as a customer. It was awful, how it happened, wasn't it?
Joe: *How* it happened?
Jaycie: I mean, for something to go wrong over the ocean like that.
Joe: Oh. Chris Allison tells me that Brady was an excellent pilot.
Jaycie: Do you know Chris?
Joe: Yeah, I met him today.
Jaycie: Here?
Joe: No, in L.A.
Jaycie: Where in L.A.?
Joe: He was with Mrs. Brady.
Jaycie: Oh. The merry widow.
Joe: You, uh, don't like her?
Jaycie: Do I have to?
Joe: Well, I understand they were very old friends. She's probably very glad to have him around right now.
Jaycie: I'll bet she is.
Joe: Hmm. Tell me, did Chris leave the club at the same time Victor Brady did the other night?
Jaycie: Well, soon after. He had business in L.A.
Joe: He goes back and forth a lot?
Jaycie: Last couple of weeks. He has more shifts there than here.
Joe: Well, you can keep in touch with the laundry. I've got a feeling he should be back very soon.
Jaycie: Is, uh... Is she pretty?
Joe: Mrs. Brady?
[Jayice nodes]
Joe: Well, on a scale of one to ten, I'd say she's about, uh... a niner. Why?
Jaycie: Oh, nothing. It's just, if you're a widow, I guess it's easier if you're pretty. Rich and pretty.
Joe: Hmm.

Joe: Thanks, Pete. I'll see that you get a picture of General Grant. An autographed picture by the Secretary of the Treasury.

Joe: [Kathy tells him about a dream she had in which he died] I was dead? And that's why you're here?
Kathy: Yes. I'm afraid it might actually happen.
Joe: Because of your dream?
Kathy: I don't know how to explain my dreams to you, Mr. Mannix... except that they do come true. I saw you killed, on a black horse like Major.
Joe: Major?
Kathy: Yes, at the riding club. One of the stable hands rides him a lot. I saw you there. There was blood on your hand from... from where'd you fallen.
[Joe shows her his hands to reveal that there is no blood on them]
Kathy: Oh, I know how tempting it must be for you to laugh at me, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: There is one thing, Miss Warren. Considering we've never met before, I was wondering how I happened to be in your dream in the first place?
Kathy: Oh, I... I don't know.
[Peggy knocks on Joe's office door]
Joe: Yeah, Peggy?
Peggy: Excuse me. Correspondence from New York. You wanted it the minute you came in. Morning paper. And the press is still hounding us for information.
Joe: Yeah, well, it can wait. Thanks, Peggy.
Kathy: [looks at the newspaper Peggy brought in] Maybe here!
Joe: What?
Kathy: Maybe this is how you got into my dream. I read about you in last night's paper.
Joe: Oh.
Kathy: It's quite a novelty these days. A man risking his life to do something positive for someone else. It's possible I... I just felt that you were something worth saving. I know that only makes it seem more ridiculous to you.
Joe: Well, I can certainly see that *you* believe in your dream?
Kathy: Oh, it's not a gift, you know. It's not an easy way to pick winners in horse races or lotteries. I can only imagine things when something important is involved, like... pain, sorrow, or death.
Joe: Go on.
Kathy: Could you do me a favor?
Joe: If I can.
Kathy: I... I haven't told you the rest of the dream, and I'm not going to now, 'cause you really wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. On this particular day, be careful of lightning.
Joe: Lightning?
Kathy: Yes. On a street that begins with the letter "W".
Joe: "W"?
[the intercom on his desk buzzes]
Joe: Excuse me.
[talks into the intercom]
Joe: Yeah, Peggy?
Peggy: Lieutenant Malcolm on the line. He says it's important.
Joe: Yeah, well, uh, in just a second.
Kathy: You really aren't laughing at me, are you?
Joe: For going out of your way to try and help a total stranger? No, I'm not laughing at you.
Kathy: Well, you made this a lot easier than I expected it to be. I'll remember that when we meet again.
Joe: Oh? Are we going to meet again?
Kathy: Yes, about 2:00. You see, we're in this together.
Joe: Huh.
Kathy: Good-bye, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Good-bye, Miss Warren.

Sergeant: What were you doing in here?
Joe: Regaining consciousness.

Lou: I'd offer you a drink, Mannix, but you ain't gonna be here for that long. I hear you've been digging around Eddie Stanik's death.
Joe: Well, it didn't start out that way. Just kept turning in that direction.
Lou: You know, when Eddie Stanik got burned, things got very sticky between Old Man Stanik and me. It cost us both some good soldiers. He wouldn't believe I had nothing to do with it. He still doesn't believe it, but things have calmed down now.
Joe: And you don't want me stirring them up?
Lou: See how quick you pick up on things? I want things left just the way they are.
Joe: If you didn't kill Eddie Stanik or ordered him killed, why sweat?
Lou: Mannix, I didn't bring you over here for a discussion. If you want to keep breathing, back off. Leave it alone. The old man ain't got that much time left anyway, and neither do you if you don't hear good.
Joe: Okay, Lou... I'll think about it.
[as he leaves, he stops and turns to DeMorro's gunman]
Joe: You point that thing at me again, you'll be eating it for breakfast.

Darrell: I'm Darrell Bigelow.
Joe: Yeah, I know. Why here, Mr. Bigelow? Why not at your paper?
Darrell: I couldn't have it known that I was hiring a private detective. This matter must be absolutely confidential.
Joe: Fair enough.
Darrell: The owner of this carousel owes me a... favor or two, so we're assured of absolute privacy.
Joe: Except for your, uh...
Darrell: Employees. They can be trusted.
Joe: What's the job, Mr. Bigelow?
Darrell: I want you to find my wife.
[motions for one of his employees to start the carousel]
Joe: How long has she been missing?
Darrell: She disappeared a week ago.
[takes a picture of his wife out of his coat pocket and hands it to Joe]
Darrell: Her name is Rebekah.
Joe: [looks at the picture] You think she might've been kidnapped?
Darrell: No. Well, there'd have been some word by now.
Joe: Has she ever, uh, "disappeared" before?
Darrell: [thinks for a moment] I want you to find her and bring her back, Mr. Mannix. She's my wife... and I love her.
Joe: Of course.
Darrell: There is another aspect to consider, a selfish one, perhaps. My friends in politics have tested the waters. They say the temperature's just right for me to wade in and, uh, become a candidate for elective office. Now, any hint of a scandal...
Joe: Scandal? You think she may be with another man?
Darrell: Well... last summer... Rebekah met someone.
Joe: Who is he?
Darrell: You might say he was a... a professional boat bum.
Joe: What was his name?
Darrell: I don't know. Rebekah told me a little about him when she... came home. I realize now that she wasn't over whatever attraction he had for her, and my instinct leads me to believe that... she may be with him again. I want her back, Mr. Mannix. You'll find her for me?
Joe: I'll do what I can.
Darrell: [takes an envelope out of his coat pocket] Uh, this should be enough to get you started.
Joe: [takes the envelope and looks inside it] Very generous.
Darrell: There's one other thing, Mr. Mannix. My wife means more to me than any political career.
Joe: Naturally.

Sheriff: Here's the autopsy report, Mannix. You can check it out yourself.
Joe: How much, uh, alcohol did the postmortem show?
Sheriff: Digby says about two-tenths of one percent. Now, that ain't a buzz, that's drunk.
Joe: Digby being the coroner.
Sheriff: Right.
Joe: Did Vic Henshaw have a reputation as a drinker?
Sheriff: No, I can't say he did. But he must've been hitting the booze pretty good Sunday morning. We found a fifth of bourbon in the back of his car almost empty.
Joe: The coroner, uh, Mr. Digby, lists the specific cause of death as a broken neck.
Sheriff: You fall 30 feet, you're a cinch to break something. Look, Mannix, I know the Henshaw girl's upset, but facts are facts. Vic fell off that rig, 30 feet, and he got hung up on a bulldozer, and that's all she wrote. Do you want some coffee?
Joe: Uh, no thanks. Did *you* find the body, Sheriff?
Sheriff: No. I went fishing on Sunday morning. A couple of my deputies brought Vic in. Pete LeMaster. Dave Benedict.
Joe: Miss Henshaw says she told you her brother was a diabetic and couldn't drink.
Sheriff: "Couldn't" ain't the same as "didn't". I checked this all out with my deputies, Mannix. There was nobody else out there at the plant Sunday when Vic went off that rig. The fall and the booze, that's what killed him.

Peggy: [after Joe called the number he found on Danny Constantine's phone bill] Well, Casanova?
Joe: Pretty voice. Young. Good education. She says "whom".
Peggy: Whom might that be?
Joe: I'd like to find out. See if you can get an address for that number.

Janet: I'm not a sports car fan, Mr. Mannix. I don't know the difference between a Bugatti and a bicycle.

Joe: Mr. Moore, when you hire me you hire my conscience.

Alton K. Moore: And the money got better... and the work got dirtier.

Gordon: [Intertect technician runs punch cards through a computer] That's all very well, Peggy, but we have to have a charge number. Now if I don't, Wickersham will have my head. As a matter of fact, ever since Mannix left Intertect, one hour of every day is devoted to hating him.

Doctor: They should be ready for us now, Mrs. Anderson. And I can tell you we have every reason to believe that the surgery's been successful. I just want to...
Kelly: Warn me? You said it was successful.
Doctor: Well, not to warn you, I just want to remind you of what I first told you, about the damage the sun had already done to your husband's face.
Kelly: You said the restoration might not be entirely...
Doctor: Well, uh, starting from scratch, as it were... Oh, but no unpleasant distortion, of that I can assure you. You may notice certain, uh, nuances of expression, that sort of thing, and the voice.
Kelly: The voice?
Doctor: Yes, there'll be a bit hoarseness. Well, the larynx suffered rather extensive damage, too. But we believe that in time, he'll begin to sound quite normal. Okay?
Kelly: Okay.

Dr. Linkram: No stomach pain?
Minji: Just the same old weakness.
Dr. Linkram: After what happened, I think we'd better schedule your surgery earlier than we planned. You don't need anymore attention.
Minji: Heh. That's fine with me.
Lt. Mitch Webster: Well, when are you going to operate on this man, Doctor, so he can go home?
Dr. Linkram: Day after tomorrow, at 6 a.m. Goodbye.
Peggy: Goodbye, Doctor.
Lt. Mitch Webster: [about the booby-trapped flowers that tried to kill Obuko] Not a clue. But we're working on it. Oh, the hospital announced that the explosion was caused by an old boiler, so that's covered. Would've been nice if you'd saved that note. It would've given us something to go on. In your place, I'm sure I would've done exactly the same thing. Only I would've sweated a lot more, that's for sure. Well, you've had kind of a rough time, and, uh... Well, on behalf of 99 9/10 of the people of this city-- and of the country for that matter-- I'm sorry for what happened.
Minji: Thank you. I'm sorry I brought politics along with me. I'm glad no one was injured.
Lt. Mitch Webster: We'll try to make sure there'll be no problem from now on.
Minji: Well, they'll probably try something else, now that they know I'm here.
Lt. Mitch Webster: They're going to have to climb over a lot of blue uniforms to get to you.
Minji: I suppose that is necessary now. My feeling was that a man who is under guard is no longer incognito.
Lt. Mitch Webster: Well, you get a good night's rest, huh? Good night.
[to Peggy]
Lt. Mitch Webster: And say hello to Joe.
Peggy: Right.
Minji: Good night, Lieutenant.
Peggy: Does this happen often in your country?
Minji: No. The people of Kichiwana are much more face-to-face. Bombs are more devious, more sophisticated-- the influence of foreigners in our country. You look exhausted, Peggy.
Peggy: How did you know it was a bomb?
Minji: The note. It said, "Welcome to America." It was signed with the name of diplomatic envoy in Washington, who was never told I was coming here.
Peggy: Do you have any idea who's behind it?
Minji: My people in Kichiwana are working on it now. It's funny-- ridiculous, actually-- how proper I am. I felt I should open the window to throw out the bomb. I'm going to have to get over that reflex if I'm to survive.
Peggy: When you go back, will there be many women waiting for you?
Minji: Usually there are, yes.
Peggy: How many of them will be your wives?
Minji: Wives? In the villages, men have several wives if they are wealthy enough. But in the city, we have degenerated to the point where we only have one. I have none.
Peggy: That's the best news I've heard all day. You know, when I thought something had happened to you... I'd never been so scared before in my life.
Minji: And I was never so glad to see anyone-- to hold anyone-- as I was you.
Peggy: From now on, everything will be peaceful and quiet and safe.
Minji: You're quite a woman.
Peggy: Thank you.
Minji: And I'm sorry to complicate your life.
Peggy: Oh don't be silly.
Minji: But I love you.
Peggy: And I love you.

Lee: [he and Joe walk into his house, where his wife Nancy is playing the piano] Honey? Got a fellow here that says he's a private cop.
[Nancy stops playing the piano and walks up to them]
Lee: Mr. Mannix, my wife.
Joe: How do you do?
Nancy: How do you do, Mr. Mannix? Won't you come in?
Lee: He wants to ask you about Ira.
Nancy: Ira? Whatever for?
Lee: If you've got one of your headaches, you don't have to talk to him if you don't want to.
Nancy: It's all right; I don't mind. Please sit down, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Thank you.
Nancy: Now, what is it that you're investigating around here?
Joe: Oh, nothing, really. I just came to see Ira Beecher. I understand he's working for you.
Nancy: Yes. The poor man, he was so bitter and filled with hatred when he came out of prison, and I-I just wanted him to know that all of his friends hadn't turned their backs on him.
Joe: That's very understanding of you.
Nancy: Yes. I understand men. I always did. I think they appreciate being understood, don't you?
Joe: Oh, by all means. Where can I find Mr. Beecher?
Nancy: Well, he didn't really come to work this morning, and having just moved into a new place, I doubt whether he has a telephone yet.
Joe: Do you have his address?
Nancy: Well, it's someplace in town. I didn't ask. Actually, I... I wouldn't have any reason to go and visit him, now would I?
Joe: No, I guess not.
Lee: I think you better be going, Mr. Mannix. You can tell my wife isn't feeling too well.
Joe: I'm sorry. Well, uh, thanks for seeing me, Mrs. Traherne.
Nancy: I'm-Im only sorry that I couldn't be some real help.
Joe: It's quite all right.

Joe: Jan!
Jan: Joe! What on earth...?
Joe: Small world. A girl from New Orleans stands you up in Los Angeles, and three weeks later, you find her waiting for you in San Francisco.
Jan: I'm sorry about what happened, Joe.
Joe: Well, I'll accept that, if there's an explanation that comes with it. Would you, uh, like to start now, or, uh, would you rather meet me at the hotel later? I'm at the Carlisle.
Jan: Joe, please. I'm waiting for someone.
Joe: Well, we spent some long evenings together, some longer conversations, but I don't remember a "someone" ever being mentioned.
Jan: I just... I couldn't bring myself to tell you.
Joe: Well, if you still want to tell me, I take confessions anywhere. Airport terminals, bus stations.
Jan: Joe, please, I... I'm meeting my husband.
Joe: Husband? Well, I take it that, uh, Jan Holloway is just a name you use around bachelors. What does your mailman call you, Jan?
Jan: I'm... Mrs. Carter Elliot.
Joe: Mrs. Elliot. Well, I suppose Mr. Elliot's a big successful businessman. But as a husband, I'll have to nominate him for... Damn Fool of the Year Award.
Jan: Joe...
Joe: Good-bye, Jan.

Carl: Okay, what about Dr. Jarrud?
Joe: Actually, I wanted to talk to you about one of Dr. Jarrud's patients.
Carl: [scoffs] Which one?
Joe: Did you by any chance read his book?
Carl: Book? Who, me?
Joe: One of the people he wrote about was someone he identified only as "X, " a child molester.
Carl: Well, what would I know about creeps like that?
Joe: I thought you might know this particular man.
Carl: Yeah, well, I don't.
[Joe picks up a toy bear sitting on a nearby shelf]
Carl: You can't just come pushing in here like that.
Joe: You're Patient X, aren't you?
Carl: [scoffs] Y-You think that, uh, he put me in that book of his?
Joe: Not so that anybody could identify you.
Carl: Then how come you're asking?
Joe: I'm going on a theory that Dr. Jarrud didn't pull the trigger himself.
Carl: You mean someone killed him?
Joe: And put the gun in his hand.
Carl: Who?
Joe: Maybe one of the three patients he wrote about.
Carl: Why should they?
Joe: They might be afraid that their secret is no longer safe.
Carl: Well, I got nothing to hide.
Joe: You've got my word that if you're innocent, your secret is safe with me.
Carl: You don't know any secret.
Joe: Eight years... in a hospital for the criminally insane for molesting, then strangling two children.
[Carl lunges at Joe, but Joe pushes him away]
Joe: Dr. Jarrud helped you. He got you this job. He treated you without charge.
Carl: He... he kept me from... feeling... that I wanted to do it again. He kept me safe.
[sobbing]
Carl: Me kill Dr. Jarrud? Without him, how much longer before it would happen again? Before I'm back in hell again?
Joe: Carl... at the time of his death, where were you?
Carl: I don't remember. I... I think maybe... on the sixth floor.
Joe: Did you see anything unusual?
Carl: No! Nothing! Except, yeah... yeah, somebody came running down the stairs right past me. The didn't pay no attention to me. They're always... all of 'em always looking right through me. I... I might as well be... a...
Joe: Uh, Carl, try to remember. Was it a man or a woman? Young, old?
Carl: I don't know, just a shadow. You know, to most people in this building, I'm just a shadow, I'm invisible. Well, they're just shadows to me, too!
Joe: If, uh, Dr. Jarrud was murdered, you'd want his killer caught, wouldn't you?
Carl: Without the doc... I'm nothing. What do you think?
Joe: Well, if, uh... if that shadow you saw ever becomes a face... call me, huh, Carl?
[leaves his business card on a nearby desk and leaves]

Gloria: Hey. The sun's over the yardarm, what would you like?
Joe: Oh, nothing for me, thanks.

Harry: [Murrell has given him a killing assignment] Murrell... give me the details, huh?
J.H. Morell: Well, he arrives at LAX at 5:10. There'll be reporters, so he'll have to stop on the landing ramp after the other passengers are off. They'll figure if you do your job, he'll never get to finish his interview.
Harry: Anything else?
J.H. Morell: That's all.
Harry: Yeah?
[notices everyone's uneasy expressions]
Harry: So why all the long faces, huh?
[no one responds]
Harry: Something's wrong.
J.H. Morell: Maybe.
Harry: Like what?
Hendry: Some dude came hiking up here. Said his car broke down.
Harry: For real?
Hendry: It could be. Said he was on a fishing trip.
Harry: A plant?
J.H. Morell: We don't know.
Harry: Anyone thought of asking him?
J.H. Morell: I had Elena fix his drink. He's out. At least until tomorrow.
Harry: And none of you guys know whether he came alone or not?
J.H. Morell: That's right. But we're working on it. So far, all we know is that's he's out of L.A. Name's Joe Mannix.
Harry: Mannix?
J.H. Morell: What is it, Harry?
Harry: I want to see this guy. I want to see him now.

Joe: How long has your son been missing, Mrs. Dabney?
Mrs. Dabney: A week. He was to have had dinner with me. He never showed up.
[takes out a tissue]
Brasher: Please.
[escorts her to a chair]
Mrs. Dabney: My son is a very responsible boy, Mr. Mannix. He wouldn't just disappear.
Brasher: Not without leaving a trace. And that's why we called you, Mr. Mannix - to find him.
Mrs. Dabney: I'm sure he's fallen into bad company.
Joe: And what, uh, makes you think that, Mrs. Dabney?
Brasher: Turner Dabney has one unfortunate weakness, and it has brought him into conflict with the law.
Joe: You mean he has a prison record?
Brasher: Oh, no, of course not.
Mrs. Dabney: But we have had to use family influence several times.
Brasher: Turner Dabney... has been known to pass counterfeit money.
Mrs. Dabney: But only in very small amounts. And... and nobody knows why. He's always had a very adequate allowance from the trust. Mr. Mannix, you must find my son.
Joe: Well, I'll try, Mrs. Dabney. However, I will need a little information - uh, bank, credit accounts, car license number...
Mrs. Dabney: Mr. Mannix, Turner and I have been out of touch. That's why I came here from Boston - so that we could renew our relationship.
Joe: I see. What about friends, uh, girls?
Mrs. Dabney: He was always very popular at home, but Turner never expressed any interest in girls. But he loves music. Um, ragtime, I believe it's called. Isn't that odd? Turner liking ragtime?
Joe: Mmm. Well, uh, no records, no friends, uh, no girls. Uh, you're not making it very easy, Mrs. Dabney.
Brasher: This might make it easier, Mr. Mannix. A check for $1,000. The agreement guarantees you an additional $9,000 when you locate Turner Dabney.
[long pause]
Joe: Well, I'll do my very best to find your son, Mrs. Dabney.
Mrs. Dabney: Oh, thank you, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Mr. Brasher.
Brasher: [shares hands with Joe] Mr. Mannix.
[Joe leaves the office]

Angela: What made you tie up with Lytell?
Joe: Money.
Angela: That all?
Joe: What else?
Angela: Hmm, the excitement, the ease of violence, limits of taking chances. Same things that attracted me.
Joe: For me, it was strictly business. When a man wants a good life, the organization is the only place to be.
Angela: You talk around me, not to me.
Joe: I always did have a rotten sense of direction.

Lou: Joe, I don't figure what you're getting at. When I broke down the door, there was nobody in Ryan's bedroom except Lucas Hume.
Joe: You didn't see the door to the hallway close, and you didn't see a woman?
Lou: [scoffs] What woman? There's no girl in Ryan's life except Linda Cole. Everybody in town knows that.
Joe: Lou, there *was* another woman.
Lou: I wouldn't believe it if you showed me movies. When we went to dinner after the court hearing, Ryan, Ham, Linda Cole and me, the cigarette girl smiled at Ryan. I thought Linda was gonna tear her apart.
Joe: Suppose she didn't know about the other woman?
Lou: Not a chance. Any girl came within five feet of Ryan, Linda would've known it. Look, Joe, I'm in enough trouble with the department already for letting Ryan get killed.
Joe: They can't blame you for that.
Lou: Tell that to the commissioner.
Joe: Thanks, Lou.

Peggy: What do you have so far?
Joe: Would you buy a sixty-pound midget in a tack trunk that could fly an airplane?
Peggy: I don't think so.
Joe: I got nothin'.

Chief: Listen, we're a nice town. Got a little high-spirited element in it, but what's a kid who doesn't bust loose once in a while, right?
Joe: One of them, uh, looked like the leader. He was riding a silver and red bike, long yellow hair down to his shoulders. Now, I'm not putting long hair down, but this one I'd enjoy scalping.
Chief: License number?
Joe: Well, everything was one big blur.
Chief: We've got a kid answers that description every ten miles this part of the country. We can't haul them all in, can we?
Joe: Well, I'm talking about just one of them.
Chief: Believe me, we want to nail them as much as you do. This is a responsible community, but, uh, we really don't have much to go on, do we?
Joe: Yeah, well, let's just forget it, huh?
Chief: But... we're going to keep our eyes open. You can bet on that.
Joe: Oh, by the way, what's the motel situation here in Lindero?
Chief: Staying in our town, are you?
Joe: Maybe a day or two.
Chief: Lot of motels. I'd have to say La Posada is the best, though.
Joe: La Posada? Thanks.
Chief: Maybe see you around.

Joe: Well, if that's true, then who tried to kill me?
Lt. Dan Ives: I'm in homicide, Joe. I can't investigate that until they succeed.

Nurse: [leading Joe into her apartment room] Sit down. I'll warm up some coffee.
Joe: You know, you're foolish to bring me here.
Nurse: You're probably right.
Joe: There's something I still don't understand.
Nurse: What?
Joe: Why does Mel Kenbrook want to get rid of me?
Nurse: What was your involvement with him? There must have been some problem.
Joe: We race against each other, but... That can't be the reason he wants to kill me, just because I beat him a few times. You said I must have had some problem with him. Why?
Nurse: In the last few weeks, he's been getting certain phone calls about you. I heard the first by accident. After that, I thought I'd better listen.
Joe: What kind of phone calls?
Nurse: He usually sounded angry. And she was upset and worried.
Joe: She?
Nurse: A young woman.
Joe: Any idea who she is?
Nurse: No.
Joe: When did the calls start?
Nurse: Some time ago- maybe a month.
Joe: That, uh... Before the race?
Nurse: That's what frightened me. Dr. Kenbrook told the girl that you'd be in the hospital after the race. Your name didn't mean anything to me at the time, so I thought it was some sort of a bad joke. But then came the race, and there you were at the hospital, half dead. When he got to the point of having you committed, that's when I decided to help. If you stop having those hallucinations, I'll know I was right.
Joe: [nods] The race, huh? The race... It's got to have something to do with the race. What could it be?
Nurse: What happened?
Joe: What? Oh... I... I began seeing things. A great big fireball was coming straight toward me. I... I swung the wheel, and that's when I crashed. So he got to me before the race. Why? Why? I've got to talk to somebody who was in that race with me.
[thinks for a second]
Joe: Josh... Josh Martin.

Lew: [gestures for Mannix to follow him] Now come on, I have a job for you.
Joe: [trailing behind] What's the rough angle this time that means it's mine?

Joe: [helping Tucker up] What happened?
Albert: Uh... I saw a prowler looking in that window right there. Shouted at him what he thought he was up to. He hit me. Lucky thing you showed up. George home?
Joe: Who are you?
Albert: Albert Tucker. I was about to ask you the same question.
Joe: My name is Mannix. I'm a private investigator. This is Mrs. Hewitt.
Albert: Mrs. Hewitt? George didn't say anything about being married.
Joe: When was the last time you saw him?
Albert: About a month ago. In my office in Washington. Legal matter. Where is George?
Joe: He's dead.
Albert: How did it happen?
Joe: Car crash.
Albert: I'm sorry, Mrs. Hewitt. I won't bother you at a time like this. Oh, I... the only thing is I don't know what I'm going to do with this now.
Amanda: They're just check stubs.
Joe: Yeah. With only the amounts filled in. There are no names. Do you have any idea who these might have been payable to?
Amanda: I've never seen them before.
Albert: The envelope was sealed when George gave it to me.
Joe: That was a month ago in Washington. What are you doing here now, Mr. Tucker?
Albert: Well, George knew I was coming out to Los Angeles on business, so he asked me to bring the envelope with me. He called me this afternoon at the Hamilton, asked me to come over this evening at 8:30.
Joe: What time did he call you?
Albert: About 6.
Joe: You're sure about the time, Mr. Tucker?
Albert: Yes, I found a note in my box when I got back from dinner. I came out right away.
Joe: Mr. Hewitt couldn't have called you at 6:00.
Albert: Why not?
Joe: Because he was killed at 4:30.
Albert: [shows Joe a phone bill] There, you can see for yourself. It says 6:05 P.M.
Joe: Mr. Tucker, you were Mr. Hewitt's attorney?
Albert: Yes.
Joe: What business was he in?
Albert: Well, now I don't think anybody knew, really. He seemed to want it that way. He enjoyed playing the man of mystery. Why... Why is that important now?
Amanda: Mr. Mannix thinks my husband's death wasn't accidental.
Joe: It's also very possible that we saved your life.
Albert: How?
Joe: Well, whoever it was that called you at 6:05 must have wanted that envelope pretty badly. If we hadn't arrived here before you, you would have walked right into his trap.

Joe: [after searching the footwalk] Well, there's nobody up there now.
Mitch: There never was.
Joe: Oh, you'd like to believe that was an accident, too, wouldn't you?
Mitch: They say that a bathtub in your own home can be dangerous. Hey, Mannix, I'm sorry if that dueling bit shook you up.
Joe: You'll have to do a lot better.
Mitch: I'll try.
Joe: It's a pretty cute act you two have.
Mitch: I'll take credit for that. Pete, you know that was my idea.
Pete: You're right, man.
Joe: I mean the other act.
Mitch: What other act?
Joe: The buddy bit. Considering it was your wife who killed herself over him.
Pete: Well, if it hadn't been mentioned, it would've been some other guy. That's the way she was.
Mitch: You heard the man, Mannix.
Joe: You're a real winner. And I'd like to know what makes you tick.
[pointing at his heart]
Joe: What have you got in here, sawdust? Your friend's wife takes her life because of you and you come up with some smart remark. Life means nothing to you, huh?
Mitch: Oh you bet life means something to me, Mannix-- my life. Because that's all I got. You make it depend on someone else, and it's a bummer. And it's throwing it away quitting, you're already dead. What happens after that? Even suicide. That's only technical. You better believe life means something to me. Come on, let's get out of here, Pete. Hey, man, do me a favor.
Pete: Hmm?
Mitch: I'll join you later. I'll go back and talk to him.
Pete: Okay.
Mitch: Do you really think Pete's trying to kill me? I mean, look, it's been five years since all of that. He's had plenty of opportunities since. Mannix, he's, um, he's my best friend. And besides, it was my bike he was on when he was almost killed.
Joe: You didn't come back here to discuss Pete.
Mitch: All right, Mannix. What about Mona?
Joe: What about her?
Mitch: She was up at your place talking about me.
Joe: Was she telling the truth?
Mitch: Man, that's her thing. She likes to put me down.
Joe: Then why do you let her hang on?
Mitch: I don't let her hang on. She just hangs in.
Joe: And you just allow it because of some sentimental reason?
Mitch: Do you call being shot at some sentimental reason? Oh yeah, Mannix. Uh-huh. Mona. It was a year ago she went out and bought herself a derringer and she loaded it and she pointed it at me at she pulled the trigger. But she missed by a mile. I did a number and made sure no charge we're pressed. She didn't tell you that, did she?

[first lines]
Adam: [walking out of an airplane] Jennifer, have the contracts on the Transpact deal typed and on my desk in the morning.
Jennifer: Yes, sir.
Adam: Mr. Mannix.
Joe: That's right.
Adam: Good of you to come. This is Jennifer Holt, my secretary. Mr. Mannix.
Jennifer: Hello. How do you do?
Joe: How do you do?
Jennifer: You certainly don't look like what I thought a private eye would look like.
Joe: Well, if that's meant as a compliment, thank you.
Jennifer: You're welcome.
Joe: You said it was important, Mr. Langer.
Adam: You've come highly recommend. Are you as good as my sources say you are?
Joe: Now you don't really expect an unprejudiced opinion?
Adam: I just want to be sure I'm hiring the right man.
Joe: You already decided that, or I wouldn't be here.
Adam: You're not handicapped with false modesty.
Joe: No. Are you?
Adam: Modest people aren't worth $5 million at age 35.
Joe: You're worth more than $5 million.
Adam: I'm more than 35. Jennifer.
Jennifer: Yes, sir.
Adam: I'll see you at the office in the morning.
Jennifer: Yes, sir. Goodbye.
Joe: Goodbye. What did you have in mind, Mr. Langer?
Adam: I want a political figure investigated.
Joe: Why?
Adam: For reasons of my own. I want you to dog up every rotten thing you can find out about him, anything that could be used as a smear.
Joe: Sorry, Mr. Langer. I don't do that sort of thing. And somehow, I didn't figure it to be your style.
Adam: You're right. It isn't. But I'm making an exception in this case. I hope you will, too.
Joe: It depends on the reason.
Adam: I want you to dog deep, deep enough to destroy him of you can.
Joe: Who is this man?
Adam: Me.

Larry: Files, Mannix. Name anybody important enough to get into my column, and I've probably got a dossier the FBI would be proud to have.
Joe: That would take in the Bramante crowd, wouldn't it?
Larry: The Bramante's, huh?
[walks to his drawers and takes out a file]
Larry: See this? On his last wife, Melina. Now remarried, living in Cannes. Staff... Majordomo: Albert Higby, born Coventry, England. Ten years service. Friends: Snowy Bartlett. Everything from his land developments to his Middle East oil holdings to his favorite French wine.
Joe: How about the dead man, Nikky Lorenzo?
Larry: How about him? Roger, where's my coffee and Danish I asked for 20 minutes ago?
Roger: Well, the photos were just coming out of that lab, and I thought I...
Larry: You thought. That's your trouble. Stop thinking and do what you're told.
Roger: Right. Shall I make that two?
Larry: No, he's leaving. Those guys - "Give us an equal shake, " they're always saying. So you give 'em a camera, make 'em an assistant even, ten minutes later, they've forgotten how to take orders.
Joe: Now, uh, about Nikky and the Bramantes...
Larry: Get lost, Mannix, your friendly visit's over.
Joe: What?
Larry: Am I some kind of a nut? I develop a regular library in the Bramantes that's finally going to pay off big, and now I open it up to you? That's what you were after, wasn't it?
Joe: For one thing. I thought you might be able to give me a lead that could help Ali Bramante.
Larry: Or hang her. Ali Bramante's been helped from the day she was born.
Joe: As they say. That's one of the things. The other is, uh... exactly where were you on the ship at the time of the shooting?
Larry: Don't tell me I'm a suspect.
Joe: Actually, Mr. Bramante's steward said you were in Cabin C. Said he put you there when you asked for a place to jot down some notes for your column. Guest lists, things like that.
Larry: So why ask me?
Joe: I thought it best to double check, seeing that Cabin C is right next to the cabin that Nikky was in.
Larry: And that makes me a suspect?
Joe: Well, it doesn't help when you stop to consider that eight years ago, Nikky Lorenzo made a play for your wife and broke up your home. And not long after, she was a suicide. I was sorry to learn that part of it.
Larry: Where did you get that?
Joe: Let's just say that not all of your old newspaper colleagues remain lifelong friends.
Larry: Listen, Mannix, I'll admit I'm sorry that crumb is dead, and I'll admit I was getting ready to pay him back, but not that way.
Joe: Then what way?
Larry: It's got nothing to do with this case.
Joe: You may not be the best judge of that.
Larry: Mannix, this could be a big mistake, getting into something that, believe me, is none of your business.
Joe: Well, you know what they say, Lawton. Sometimes the best payoffs come from the biggest mistakes.

Joe: Can I use your phone?
Chief: Yeah, you can use the phone as long as you don't call any place as far out as your theory.

Claire: The past is behind us now, why don't we just wrap ourselves in some privacy?
Joe: Oh I'm sorry Claire. What can I do? You took away my license to practice in this state.

Joe: [walks into Dorothy Kinman's apartment] Miss Kinman?
Dorothy: Thank you for coming here.
[locks the door to her apartment]
Dorothy: I just poured myself a scotch. Would you care for some?
Joe: Yes, thank you.
Dorothy: I must have sounded pretty hysterical when I called you.
Joe: Well, shall we say you sounded... upset?
Dorothy: I think these phone calls are getting to me.
Joe: When did the calls first begin?
Dorothy: A month ago. Four or five days after I left the hospital and moved into here.
Joe: Have you, uh... notified the police?
Dorothy: Won't you sit down?
Joe: Thank you.
Dorothy: Yes, they suggested that I change my number.
Joe: Did you?
Dorothy: Last week. I thought that was the end of it. But tonight...
Joe: How long did he stay on the line?
Dorothy: Just a few seconds. That's all there ever is.
Joe: What exactly did he say?
Dorothy: What he always says. That he's going to kill me.
Joe: Let's start with the familiar. Can you think of anybody who might want to hurt you, or at least frighten you?
Dorothy: No. No one.
Joe: Let's go back two or three years. Have you ever had any trouble with anybody? For instance, a cab driver, a clerk in some hotel, anyone at all?
Dorothy: I didn't think there was. Obviously, I was wrong.
Joe: Well, the fact that he knows your name doesn't necessarily mean you've met. And after all, you are a public figure- won the nationals- everyone's choice for the Olympics.
Dorothy: Former choice. I don't want anyone's pity, Mr. Mannix. All I want is to be left alone... and not to be terrified every time the phone rings.
Joe: Tell me, who handled your complaint at the police department?
Dorothy: Uh, Lieutenant Tobias.
Joe: Well, now, that's a help.
Dorothy: Do you know him?
Joe: Yes.
Dorothy: He wasn't very optimistic. It seems that calls of such short duration are very hard to trace.
Joe: Which means we'll have to lengthen them.
Dorothy: How?
Joe: By asking questions; making conversation. If nothing else, we might get an idea of the kind of psychopath we're dealing with.
Dorothy: He wasn't interested in conversation. He wouldn't listen to me.
Joe: We'll make him.
Dorothy: You're an optimist, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Comes with the territory.
[checks his watch]
Joe: I think I'd better get over and see Lieutenant Tobias. I'll, uh, call you first thing in the morning.

Jerry: [after saving Mannix from an almost deliberate hit-and-run] Crazy fool could've killed you!
Joe: Yeah, thanks, huh?
Jerry: You, uh, debt collecting?
Joe: No.
Jerry: Bail bondsman.
Joe: No. Why? Should I be?
Jerry: Well, looked like that creep was trying to hit you.
Joe: Why would he do a thing like that?
Jerry: You want me to find out? I got his license number. Come on, let's, uh... let's talk about it over a cup of coffee.
Joe: Uh, no, thanks. Maybe some other time, huh?
Jerry: Yeah, sure. Uh, here's my card. Uh... call me.
[hands Mannix his card]
Joe: [reading the card] Jerry Vane, private investigator.
Jerry: One of the best, if I say so myself. What's your name?
Joe: Mannix.
Jerry: Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Man... Joe Mannix?
[Mannix nods]
Jerry: First whiff of a job I get all month, and it turns out to be Mr. Private Peeper himself.
Joe: Now, look, uh...
Jerry: Oh, no, no, no, no. Please, please. I wouldn't hear of it. Uh, consider it, uh, professional courtesy. You know, one... one pro to another.
Joe: Thanks. I mean it.
[turns and walks away]
Jerry: If anybody's going to turn up Gordon Cameron...
[Mannix stops and turns]
Jerry: ... you're the guy, Mannix.
Joe: [opens his car door] Hop in. Let's have that cup of coffee.
[Vane nods and gets into the passenger seat of Mannix's car]

Harry: Be right with you.
Joe: You still lying down on the job, Sergeant?
Harry: Hey, Joe! Hey!
Joe: Harry.
Harry: Hey, I didn't expect you until tomorrow.
Joe: Well, you said it was important.
Harry: Yeah. Say, you look great, buddy.
Joe: Yeah, thanks. You haven't put on an ounce since Korea.
Harry: You either.
Joe: Okay, now that we're through conning ourselves, Harry, what do you want me for?
Harry: Oh... it's a beauty, Joe. My best friend, Fred Tallchief. Two weeks ago, he got killed in a fight.
Joe: Ah. Well, uh, police have any idea who did it?
Harry: Two men - Jimmy Cousins, Pat Osterman. Said they were drinking it up with Fred, an argument started, and Fred got killed.
Joe: Well, what would you like me to do, Harry?
Harry: I say he was murdered, Joe.
Joe: Go on.
Harry: But it took the jury only five minutes to call it accidental death. I guess they were in a hurry to go look for the missing plane.
Joe: Yeah, I heard about that. What was the defense?
Harry: They called only one witness - Gil Yarbrough. He said Fred was a drunken Indian looking for trouble.
Joe: It happens, Harry.
Harry: Oh, yes. They found whiskey on him, all right. Only thing is, Fred didn't drink at all.
Joe: What gives Gil Yarbrough so much clout?
Harry: His old man, B.J. Yarbrough, owns half the county. The guys who beat Fred to death work for him and pal around with Gil.
Joe: Do you think Gil Yarbrough is involved?
Harry: I couldn't tell for sure.
Joe: This, uh, Cousins and Osterman, they just give themselves up?
Harry: Nope. Fred's sister, Elena, found him before he died, and Fred himself named them.
Joe: Well, I'm gonna want to talk to her.
Harry: Whenever you want to go, just say the word.
Joe: Okay, Harry, but, uh, first I think I'll just kind of nose around on my own. I'll be back.
Harry: All right.
[Joe walks into his car and gets in]
Harry: Joe? Thanks.
[Joe gives Harry a wave and drives off]

Joe: [walks into Perry Riggs' jail cell] Perry.
Perry: You're a hard man to convince, Mannix. You still don't believe I'm a loser?
Joe: So far, your vibrations are holding up.
Perry: Well, what is it going to take to prove to them that I didn't to it? A voice from heaven?
Joe: Well, I'd settle for a lead that won't make the local law laugh out loud.
Perry: You think Mr. Kurtz's wife or one of his partners is going to come to you with a signed confession, huh?
Joe: I'd settle for that, too.
Perry: Their word against a guy who was in reform school at age 16? And black? You believe in Santa Claus, too?
Joe: Well, uh... why don't we start with Mrs. Kurtz?
Perry: Strictly bad news.
Joe: Bad enough to kill her husband?
Perry: Maybe bad enough for him to wish he was dead.
Joe: In what way?
Perry: Well, you see, Mr. Kurtz-- he had these high standards for everything. Maybe he finally figured that she wasn't-- she couldn't measure up.
Joe: I'd hardly call that a motive for Mrs. Kurtz to kill him, would you?
Perry: I'd hardly call myself an expert on murder.
Joe: Hmm.
Perry: I'm kind of new at this. All I know is, cops got to pin it on somebody to make it come out even. That's simple arithmetic.
Joe: That's the best you can do for me, huh?
Perry: Mannix, did you come here to try to help me, or you just trying to make yourself feel good?
Joe: Little of both, I guess.

Joe: [Scrapiron, an old friend of his, walks into his office] Son of a gun, what have you been up to?
Scrapiron: Uh, same as always. Getting my brains bashed in by guys who need a live punching bag.
Joe: Ah, I thought you gave that up years ago.
Scrapiron: Yeah, but I went back to it. Oh, but look, I can still take most guys half my age.
[brief pause]
Scrapiron: [sighs]
Joe: Things are tough, huh?
Scrapiron: Yeah. Needed some extra dough, and... I just don't want my boy taking too much time away from working on his PhD. You member Matt?
Joe: I sure do.
Scrapiron: Studies anthropology, Joe. Rossmore University.
Joe: No kidding. How's he doing?
Scrapiron: Been a straight "A" student since high school.
Joe: That's fantastic.
Scrapiron: Yeah.
[sighs]
Scrapiron: Uh, he's the reason I'm here, Joe.
Joe: Trouble?
Scrapiron: He's been arrested for murder.
Joe: And just who was he supposed to have killed?
Scrapiron: The head of his department, a Professor O'Neill. Last night, O'Neil's wife came home and found him with his head bashed in just after Matt had been in there to see him. But Matt swears he's innocent, and I believe my boy, Joe.
Joe: Mm.
Scrapiron: It just isn't in him to harm anyone.
Joe: Yeah.
Scrapiron: Ten years I've stood up in that ring and tried to roll with the punches all for my boy. And it's been worth it.
[brief pause]
Scrapiron: Joe, can you help me?

Sharon: [the door to the cabin opens] Jason, is that you?
[sees Joe, who she doesn't recognize]
Sharon: Oh, hello.
Joe: Excuse me. Uh, is this Jason Riddle's cabin?
Sharon: Oh, he's not here right now. May I help you?
Joe: My name is Joe Mannix. I'm a private investigator.
Sharon: Oh, hi. I'm Sharon Carter. If it's anything to do with Jason, you'll have to wait till he gets back.
Joe: Well, I think maybe you can help me. It's very important.
Sharon: Well, how can I help?
Joe: [shows Sharon a picture] Do you, uh, happen to remember this?
Sharon: [chuckles] This silly thing. It was taken last year. Where in the world did you get this?
[sees Joe's unhappy facial expression]
Sharon: Oh, there's something wrong. Something's happened to Jason.
[pause]
Sharon: That's why you're here, isn't it?
Joe: I'm sorry. There's never an easy way to say it. He's dead.
Sharon: When he didn't call, I was getting angry. And now he's... How? Where?
Joe: It happened Monday. Uh, he was shot.
Sharon: Shot.
Joe: It happened on the golf course. Police think it was a sniper, uh, just pulling the trigger at random.
Sharon: Monday. It's been all over.
[Joe rushes to her when she starts to faint]
Sharon: It's even too late to cry for him. If I cry now, I'd only be crying for myself.
Joe: How much did you really know about him?
Sharon: Enough. For me. But not as much as you're going to tell me. Am I right, Mr. Mannix?
Joe: Well, he worked and lived in Los Angeles under the name of Bobby Quinn.
Sharon: Somehow I knew one day I'd hear something like that. But I expected him to tell me. I thought he'd turn to me and say, "My real name isn't Jason at all. My real name is Bobby Quinn." Strange. It always felt like Sunday being with Jason. Do you know anything about Sundays, Mr. Mannix?
Joe: A little.
Sharon: Beautiful. Relaxed. But always in the back of your mind, there's the knowledge that it'll soon be Monday. There's no future in being a Sunday-night girl.
[walks away from Joe]
Sharon: You didn't come all the way up here just to tell me he was dead, did you?
Joe: No. No. He was working for an electronics company and had just finished some plans for new circuit designs. They seem to be missing, and I've been hired to find them.
Sharon: Hmm. He was always drawing lines and squiggles. I never knew what they were. You think the plans could be up here?
Joe: Well, his employer, Lawrence Martin, is certain they are. He said the last time he saw them, they were folded in a large manila envelope.
Sharon: No. I haven't seen anything like that around here. I cleaned every inch if this cabin since Jason left, just to keep busy. There's nothing like that here.
Joe: Then if they're no here, they've got to be someplace nearby. Where did he go when he was here?
Sharon: Nowhere, mostly. His boat, the skeet club... to play golf.
Joe: Do you know if he dealt with a bank around here?
Sharon: Yes.
Joe: Did he have a safe deposit box?
Sharon: I don't really know.
Joe: How are you as a guide?
[Sharon turns and looks at Joe]
Joe: I really don't have time to make any wrong turns.
Sharon: If it was important to Jason, I'd like to help.
Joe: Good.

Joe: [visiting Royal in his hospital room, Royal having survived a boat explosion] Well, you must be one rigged fellow, Mr. Royal, considering what you've been through.
Dana: It'll take more than three days in the ocean to do me in. As a matter of fact, the helicopter was the worst part of it. I never fly if I can help it.
Joe: Is that right?
Dana: I suppose you're here about Carol.
Joe: Mostly that, yes.
Dana: Yeah, it's a terrible thing.
Joe: Would you mind telling me why you suddenly decided to see her again on Friday, uh, after backing away so long?
Dana: I suppose my attorney would call that a loaded question.
Joe: Mm-hmmm.
Dana: At the very least, privileged information. But I don't find telling you.
Joe: Good. I'd like to know.
Dana: Well, we were after bluefin tuna. There hasn't been one around these waters for years. And then all at once, last week, no rhyme or reason, they were back. Carol and I used to chase bluefin up and down Baja in the old days. And when this terrific run started, it just made sense to a call through to an old fishing pal.
Joe: Any ideas about the explosion, the cause of it?
Dana: [shakes his head] No. All of a sudden, there was this... roar, and... flame and... then the boat... disintegrated. And the next thing I knew, I was in the water.
Joe: Holding on to a piece of wreckage?
Dana: And doing some praying, I don't mind telling you... till I was spotted. A miracle's the only way I can describe it.
Joe: I'd say half a miracle.
Dana: What?
Joe: Your passenger wasn't so lucky.
Dana: No. I never did see poor Carol from the moment of the explosion.
Joe: How do you account for that?
Dana: Well, naturally, I've wondered about it myself. Could be that she was struck by... something and was unconscious before she hit the water.
Joe: The medical examiner goes along with you on that. Figures she could've been dead a split second before she hit the water.
Dana: Yeah, I suppose that's possible.
Joe: Or for that matter, even an hour before. No way of telling.
Dana: I can tell you. She wasn't. Listen, Mannix... let's not, either of us, be under any delusions here.
Joe: I didn't know we were.
Dana: You think I don't realize you'd give your eyeteeth to sink a hook into me, after Carol?
Joe: You're taking too much credit. I haven't really been an ardent fan of yours since long before I ever met Carol. But get well anyway. By the way, uh, I was sorry to hear about your man McIver.
Dana: Who?
Joe: Allan McIver. He flies for you. Uh, your Trianon lines.
Dana: Well, Trainon's just one of my many interests. I don't know everybody who works for me. What about him?
Joe: He's been missing the last couple of days.
Dana: Well, I'd hardly know about that, would I? I've been a little out of touch myself lately.

Sister: [she and Father Vale are sitting in Joe's office, talking to him about the man who visited her before he died] I told Father Fain that I had to do something. That poor dying man haunts me. He was trying to erase his sin against this other man- an innocent man that he had put in prison. With his last dying breath, he was trying to tell me the man's name.
Father: What do you think, Joe?
Joe: I don't know. It's not going to to be easy to find the man. I mean, I've never talked to a convict who wasn't innocent.
Sister: Mr. Mannix, Al Murphy was a dying man. He was pleading his guilt before God. He was saying that he had sinned, that he had borne false witness.
Joe: I understand, Sister. I was only trying to warn you. The odds against finding that particular innocent man are a little frightening.
Sister: But you will try?
Joe: Uh, please don't expect a miracle.
Father: Joe, we're always expecting miracles. That's our bag.
Joe: Yeah. You proved that on a golf course.

Dr. Sam Wyman: A small amount of water in her lungs- couple of c.c.'s - and quite a bit of alcohol in the blood.
Joe: Stuck to her lifestyle right down to the wire. Scotch and water... light on the water.
Lt. Art Malcolm: Joe, I thought both of you close the door on that a year ago.
Joe: We did.

Helen: I'm glad you made it here so soon.
Joe: Yeah, I really enjoyed that song.
Helen: Thank you.
Joe: But I must admit, I had an ulterior motive in coming.
Helen: Oh?
Joe: Have you given any more thought to what happened last night?
Helen: Well, I didn't get to sleep until about 4:00 this morning, thinking about it.
Joe: Helen, you said you couldn't swear that Sergeant Reardon was the man.
Helen: No.
Joe: Could you swear he wasn't?
Helen: I couldn't swear to that, either.
[sees a man who looks like Sergeant Reardon near the front entrance of the club]
Helen: Joe, that man, he looks just like Sergeant Reardon.
[Joe chases the man outside, only to find he's disappeared, and a car almost runs him down]

Lt. Art Malcolm: [after examining the fingerprints on the glass that Joe bought, showing Joe a picture of the man who the fingerprints belong to] The fingerprints match those on the wine glass. Is that the man, Joe?
Joe: Yeah, that's him. And the only thing about him that hasn't changed are his fingerprints.
Lt. Art Malcolm: Except maybe his name.
Joe: Who is he?
Lt. Art Malcolm: Did you ever hear of Eric Latimer?
Joe: Latimer? The writer?
Lt. Art Malcolm: "Worldwide" magazines. Crime exposes.
Joe: Yeah, I remember. He drowned a couple of years ago. What's the connection?
Lt. Art Malcolm: Haley is Eric Latimer.
Joe: What?
Lt. Art Malcolm: Mistakes happen, Joe. The Coast Guard found his catamaran upside down off the west tip of Catalina. He was in it when he left Marina Del Rey. He was reported lost at sea. Looks like it might've been a snap judgment.
Joe: Yeah, I remember his stories. Named a lot of names. Must have made a lot of enemies.
Lt. Art Malcolm: If Latimer is alive and in hiding, I want to know why.
Joe: You know, Art, my bump of curiosity is a little bigger than usual. How about letting me follow through on my own for a couple of days?
Lt. Art Malcolm: What's going on, Joe?
Joe: Just two days, Art.
Lt. Art Malcolm: One day. By the clock. And, Joe, maybe you'd better wear a helmet.

Joe: What can I do for you?
Maria: Well, there are some questions I'd like to ask you first, Mr. Mannix, if you don't mind?
Joe: No, not at all.
Maria: This may seem rather callous to you, but Tom being dead less than 12 hours, but I have to know. Had you ever met him before last night?
Joe: No.
Maria: I heard you tell his father that the meeting was Tom's idea.
Joe: It was.
Maria: And that Tom was killed before you knew why he had to see you. Was that the truth?
Joe: Why would I lie about it?
Maria: To spare my feelings?
Peggy: Excuse me. Joe.
[hands Joe his coffee]
Joe: Thank you, Peggy.
Maria: Are you sure that Tom hadn't hired a detective to spy on an unfaithful wife?
Joe: Do you believe that's why he wanted to see me?
Maria: Yes.
Joe: Why?
Maria: Because he was obsessed with the idea that I was having an affair.
Joe: Was it an idea, Mrs. Fortune, or was it a fact?
Maria: It wasn't true. I think it was part of a plot to kill him, to separate him from the family, from his bodyguard. To isolate him in a lonely place... so they could shoot him.
Joe: Who are "they"?
Maria: I should've said "he." The man I was supposed to be having an affair with.
Joe: Does, uh, "he" have a name?
Maria: Duke Benedict.
[Joe, in surprise, briefly stops drinking his coffee and looks at Maria]
Maria: I heard he was drunk at a party and he just happened to let it slip to one of Tom's friends.
Joe: And your husband bought that?
Maria: He was insanely jealous.
Joe: And what would you like me to do now?
Maria: Tell the police, tell them that Duke Benedict lied about us, drove Tom out of his mind and that he walked into a trap that was set for him.
Joe: I don't know how well that'll hold up.
Maria: Well, if it doesn't, you'll see I'm right. Duke Benedict is going to take over this town if he can. There'll be killing. Tell the police that.
Joe: Mrs. Fortune, why don't you tell the police that?
Maria: If the family found out, they'd...
Joe: All right, Mrs. Fortune. I'll do what I can.
Maria: I don't care what it costs, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Forget it, Mrs. Fortune. The law requires me to pass this kind of information along to the police.
Maria: Thank you.
[walks out the door]

Dr. Myles Considine: [upon being told that he is going on a mission to perform surgery on a man who's in another country] And he told you I'd agree to this?
Joe: That's the impression I got, yes.
Dr. Myles Considine: [sighs] Well, he had absolutely no right to make such an assumption. It's... it's preposterous.
Joe: He probably took it for granted you'd go for it, what with a man's life at stake.
Dr. Myles Considine: A life at stake?
[shows Joe a piece of paper]
Dr. Myles Considine: Here are a dozen, waiting for their turns. And don't bother to tell me that your candidate is prominent. A publisher, a politician, one of the leading corporation lawyers in the country...
Joe: You are selective, Doctor.
Dr. Myles Considine: My work is exacting. And expensive.
Joe: There's a problem there. I doubt if this job would have netted you much of a fee, if any at all.
Dr. Myles Considine: It was my understanding that the man Lucas is at present in his own country, several thousand miles from here.
Joe: That is correct.
Dr. Myles Considine: In some secret hideout from a military government that apparently would much prefer him dead than alive.
Joe: That is also correct.
Dr. Myles Considine: In which case... they'd feel more or less the same about anybody who tried to keep him alive... wouldn't that also be correct?
Joe: You might say that's one other reason to get the operation over and done with as quickly as possible.
Dr. Myles Considine: And that isn't preposterous?
[Joe doesn't respond]
Dr. Myles Considine: I have patients whose lives are dependent on my life, and I involve myself in some... outlandish enterprise from which I might not return.
Joe: I don't think you quite understand, Doctor. My job is to not only get you there, but to get you back. Alive.
Dr. Myles Considine: I'm afraid that could hardly alter my decision, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Well, then, I'll, uh, forward your profound regrets. And I'm sure you must have regrets, Doctor, seeing you're the only man who might stand a chance of saving Victor Lucas.
Dr. Myles Considine: Well, yes... of course I regret it.
Joe: Not to mention the man himself. You must have some familiarity with him. What he's done, what he stands for.
Dr. Myles Considine: I do occasionally read more than medical journals, Mr. Mannix. Of course, I know about him.
Joe: And what's your opinion, Doctor? Wouldn't you say there aren't many men like him left on this earth?
Dr. Myles Considine: Look, I don't see the point in pursuing this.
Joe: It's just that in a week from now, maybe two weeks, when you're reading his obituary, I'd like you to think about what you might have done to keep him here a little longer.
Dr. Myles Considine: No, the whole thing's quite impossible.
Joe: Yes, you've told me that.
Dr. Myles Considine: All right, go ahead, say it's a matter of nerve.
Joe: You said that, Doctor, I didn't.
Dr. Myles Considine: Say it's nerve, and I can tell you it takes more than nerve to plow into a man's chest, to lay his heart bare, to work with it as if it weren't his one, sole, pulsing hold on life.
[sighs]
Dr. Myles Considine: It takes a lot more nerve than most men ever know. But that's my field, this is my territory. You can't expect me to suddenly turn into some... superhero out of an Ian Fleming novel!
Joe: They're only asking you to be a doctor... and save a man's life we both know is worth saving.

George: [Joe has just pulled up at Saunders' apartment] He is out of his mind. He refused the column. He's just packing up and running off. Why?
Joe: Yeah, maybe it's because Leon Hanes is dead.
[they suddenly see Saunders fall off his apartment deck, screaming, and they rush to the elevator]
George: Why didn't he just give them what they wanted?
[the elevator doors open, and they go up to Saunders' apartment]
Joe: [looks around the apartment to see it ransacked and empty] Yeah, they move fast.
George: He put up a scrap. Why'd they kill him? What were they looking for?
Joe: A connection, maybe something that would finger the Syndicate's...
[notices an empty tape player]
Joe: ... attempt to take over Alfaro.
[checks the tape insertion]
Joe: Still a piece missing.
George: You mean, uh, whatever they were looking for? Maybe they found it; maybe it's all finished.
Joe: I don't think so.

Cliffton Ross Sr.: That's how you make your living, isn't it? Outsmarting the police?
Joe: I'm afraid you've been reading too many paperbacks.

Vodich: [meets with Hammel at the hospital] Sounded urgent. The boss sent me right out.
Hammel: It is.
Vodich: You found Danny Labor?
Hammel: No, but I found his old man. He says Danny couldn't shoot anybody.
Vodich: But the drug store... The guy was shot, wasn't he?
Hammel: Maybe. Or maybe he's gonna get shot.

Andre: A poor fisherboy doesn't amass a shipping empire by being 100% gentleman.

Joe: Clint Williams?
Clint: Yeah. What can I do for you?
Joe: My name is Mannix. I'm a private investigator. I wonder if you'd mind answering a few questions.
Clint: About what?
Joe: Bill Rogell's murder.
Clint: Oh, yeah. Was a terrible thing. Bill and I were in 'Nam together.
Joe: So I understand.
Clint: He tell you?
Joe: His wife did.
Clint: Oh, yeah. Well, what's to investigate? Way the news had it, it was just some punk out for Bill's money.
Joe: The police have pretty much given up on that theory.
Clint: Why?
Joe: Last night, an attempt was made on Mrs. Rogell's life.
Clint: She okay?
Joe: Oh, fine.
Clint: That's good. Uh, did the police grab the guy?
Joe: What makes you think it was just one guy, Mr. Williams? You have somebody in mind?
Clint: What do you mean?
Joe: Well, the assailant or assailants weren't identified, yet you jumped to the conclusion that it was just one man.
Clint: Look, I haven't seen Bill Rogell in two, three years.
Joe: You saw him yesterday, didn't you?
Clint: Well, yeah, but just for a minute or two. So what?
Joe: Why didn't you say so?
Clint: Because it wasn't important.
Joe: Look, Mr. Williams, anything that happens to a man just before he's murdered is important.
Clint: Look... he got off a bus in San Pedro. We rapped a little and that was it.
Joe: What'd you rap about?
Clint: You know. "How you been? What are you up to?" Like that.
Joe: I'd like you to reconstruct the conversation, word for word.
Clint: Why?
Joe: So far, Mr. Williams, your meeting with Bill is the only lead we have. Now, look, you do want to help to catch the man who killed Bill, don't you?
Clint: Of course I do. But I'm up to my neck right now. Why don't you come by my place this evening? I get off work at 5:00.
Joe: How about during your lunch break?
Clint: I'm brown-bagging it today. Got to catch up on all this work.
Joe: Okay, what's the address?
Clint: 1324 Hay Street. That's out Echo Park way.
Joe: Thanks, Mr. Williams.

Barbara: Mr. Mannix, a woman doesn't take a man away from his wife. He walks away.

Joe: Addicts.
Peggy: Sure. They're such sad people.

Lt. Art Malcolm: [Joe and Art are meeting in the middle of a bridge; Joe is going to pretend to kill Art] They bought it, huh?
Joe: So far.
Lt. Art Malcolm: I hope you haven't forgotten how to miss.
Joe: I hope you haven't forgotten how to swim.
[shoots the gun off angle and Art jumps into the water]

Lou: Chuck Noland was a big hero. Besides, it's good business. The insurance pays for the damage, but it doesn't do very much for the reputation of the building. A thing like this scares people off.
Joe: And that's the extent of your involvement, Lou?
Lou: [chuckles] Come on, Joe.
Joe: Just thinking out loud. Any idea who might have done it?
Lou: Had to be a lunatic.
Joe: Or somebody's hired gun.
[Schaeffer enters the room]
Joe: Well, right on cue, Schaeffer.
Schaeffer: Whatever that means, Mannix, I'll bet it's cute.
[hands Lou Morgan a document]
Lou: This the casualty deal?
Schaeffer: All it needs is your signature.
[Lou signs the document]
Schaeffer: [checks his watch] We tee off in 45 minutes. I'll see you at the club.
Joe: Stick around a minute, will you, Schaeffer?
Lou: He's here on the bombing.
Joe: Do you know anyone who might have wanted to kill Noland or Roy Elkins?
Schaeffer: No, I don't.
Joe: How about Joyce?
Lou: Joyce? I don't know what you're talking about.
Joe: Does the name mean anything to you, Schaeffer?
Schaeffer: No, no, nothing.
Lou: Joe, how is it that you're mixed up in all of this?
Joe: My client, Roy Elkins.
Lou: Who ran the elevator?
Joe: That's right.
Lou: Oh, I see. Joe, I owe you. You saved my neck once. I don't forget. So I'll give you a tip. Check the Noland family.
Joe: What's that mean?
Lou: Chuck Noland's wife was getting a divorce. Lawyer she used to be stuck on was handling it. It was going to be pretty messy. She lives in San Diego.

[first lines]
Joe: Mr. Lassiter, it's Joe Mannix.
[no response]
Joe: Are you there, Mr. Lassiter?
Harry: [laughing] Present and accounted for, Lieutenant.
[walks up to Joe]
Harry: Take a good look. It's been a long time.
Joe: Elliott. Harry Elliott?
Harry: *Sergeant* Harry Elliott to you, Lieutenant.
Joe: Korea's a war nobody remembers, Harry.
Harry: I remember.
Joe: Why the, uh, Lassiter pitch on the phone? Why set up a date in the dark?
Harry: Would you have shown up if I said it was Harry *Elliott* calling?
Joe: No.
[turns to leave]
Harry: MANNIX! You remember what a booby trap looks like, don't you? I mean, Korea isn't *that* long ago.
Joe: What's the gag, Harry?
Harry: No gag. This dock is wired. Don't you remember? The little old demolition man-- me. I turn the switch, boom!
Joe: Okay, Harry. I'm listening. What do you want?
Harry: All right. I did a lot of years in Leavenworth because of you, Mannix.
Joe: I didn't court-martial you, Harry, the Army did.
Harry: On your testimony.
Joe: Passing intelligence to the enemy in a P.O.W. camp is a military crime.
Harry: What intelligence? You mean that phony information you fed me... deliberately?
Joe: You knew the rules, Harry-- name, rank, serial number. You don't talk.
Harry: Everybody talks.
Joe: Wrong.
Harry: I said *everybody* talks. When you can't sleep, and the interrogation goes on... and on, day after day. You talk.
Joe: No, Harry. There's a word called courage.
Harry: And you think I was born without guts, right, Lieutenant? That's how you had me pegged. That's why you, uh... set me up.
Joe: What the hell are you talking about?
Harry: You know what I'm talking about. It was a plant. You sent m out on that mission because you knew I'd be captured. You wanted the North Koreans to squeeze that information out of me. The phony position, the hardware where it was supposed to be. All of it counterfeit, Mannix. You filled me up with it, and then you sent me out, 'cause you figured I was the guy in the outfit who was sure to crack.
Joe: Who fed you that line?
Harry: A broad. In a bar.
Joe: Who was she?
Harry: General McCutcheon's private secretary. Marjorie Ellis. How about that, Mannix? Small world, huh? Marjorie Ellis. A board in a bar. And she's got all the secrets in the general's files.
Joe: Marjorie Ellis told you I set you up?
Harry: That's right.
Joe: She lied, Harry, believe me. Check it out.
Harry: Check what out? With who? The general's dead. A lot of us are dead. Not you, not me. We're alive. Maybe.
Joe: [checks his watch] Well, I'm losing sleep, Harry.
Harry: You pay attention! My fingers are getting very itchy, Mannix. I've been thinking about you for a long time, Mannix. Ever since I got out on the street. I said to myself, "I wonder how long the Lieutenant would last if somebody worked on him the way the gooks worked on me? I wonder how good a soldier he would be?" So I'm gonna send you out on a mission, Lieutenant, like you sent me. With some information the enemy wants.
Joe: What sort of information?
Harry: Name, that's all. Just a name. You're to keep this name from people... in a certain business who want the name I'm going to give you. That name is Rusty. Got it? Rusty. Now you give it to them, and you survive. But if you do... somebody buys a bullet. Life for a life. Now, that's the choice I had. Now it's yours. Don't forget. The name is Rusty.

Dr. Yoshiro: Mr. Mannix, come in now, the antidote is just around the corner.
Joe: My father used to say about prosperity.

Jonathan: Jim and I, we go back a long way, y'know? We made history together, right here! Showed them a Scotch Baptist and an Irish Catholic could both stroke the same war, didn't we Jim?
James: That we did, Jonathan. And before it was fashionable!

Peggy: [smiling benevolently] And, of course, you need that information immediately.
Joe: [matter-of-factly] I can't wait that long.
Peggy: [looks at him stunned, mouth agape, says nothing]

Stefan: See, we count three eyes up, and then we cut. You hold it close so, and then with one stroke, quickly! Huh!
[cuts off a vine from the bush]
Stefan: Smooth, you see? Now that is the way we do it.
Jose: I see now. Before I was afraid to hurt the vine.
Stefan: Sure...
[sees Joe walking up from behind them]
Stefan: Joseph! Ha!
Joe: Hello, Pa.
Stefan: Joseph, how are you? Are you well?
Joe: Oh, I'm fine. Fine. You look healthier than ever, Pa.
Stefan: Oh! You remember José Alonzo? Huh? He's a good worker, this boy. He's only 14, and he knows so much already.
Joe: Well, I remember José when he was that big. And your sister, Maria, José. How is she?
Jose: Uh, she's alright. Got a cold or something. You want me to finish this row now, Señor Stephan?
Stefan: It's time to eat, huh? Come on, we go in the house and we talk, huh?

Phyllis: He hit and ran. And then when that
[silenced racial epithet]
Phyllis: was arrested and Boylan identified him, Roger thought he saw a way out.

Lyle: As a matter of fact, Sister, I remember Mr. Murphy very well.
Sister: Then his testimony at the Kilgore trial was a decisive factor?
Lyle: No. I'm sorry.
Joe: What convinced you that Kilgore was guilty, Mr. Grandt?
Lyle: Well, my client himself. He made a full confession to the police and refused to retract a word of it. I took all the delays I could reasonably ask of the court, hoping he'd change his mind, but he didn't. Believe me, it was a battle all the way. Even to convince him that he had to make an initial plea of innocence so that we could see the prosecution's case.
Sister: Are you saying that you had doubts about Mr. Kilgore's confession?
Lyle: No, Sister. I believed it. But an attorney has a special obligation to a client. Not to turn the guilty loose on society, but to be certain that the person standing trial has every opportunity to present mitigating circumstances.
Joe: In other words, you were hoping that during the prosecution's presentation, something would want to make Kilgore fight for his life?
Lyle: Yes, I was. However, that wasn't to be. Poor Kilgore. Imagine his temptation. Not only was Alyce Taggart a devastatingly beautiful woman, she was the wife of the world's wealthiest enigma - C.W. Taggart, man or myth? Kilgore's love affair was... a secret within a mystery. The danger alone... exciting.
[sighs]
Lyle: I'm really sorry, Sister.
Sister: That's all right. I... I think I understand.
Lyle: Well, it comes down to this. Kilgore went into his trial wanting the gas chamber. At least I was able to talk him out of that.
Joe: Well, I guess that about covers it. You agree, Sister?
Sister: Yes, I suppose so.
Joe: Thank you for your time, Mr. Grandt.
Lyle: Not at all.
Sister: Yes. You've been most considerate.
Lyle: My pleasure.

Peggy: I took the liberty of going to, uh, well, y'know, a certain organization and now don't be angry because it worked! Intertect put 'Kelly Green Frame' through the computer and what do you think?
Joe: That I'm gonna strangle you.

Joe: [Aileen is searching through a drawer for Gordon Cameron's file] Something wrong?
Aileen: It's gone.
Joe: Are you sure?
Aileen: Yes.
Joe: Who else has access to these files?
Aileen: I'm the only one, really. The security office has duplicate keys, I suppose.
Joe: Are they, uh, normally kept locked?
Aileen: Only at night when I leave. He certainly did cover his tracks, didn't he?
Joe: We don't know that he took the file.
Aileen: What are you hoping to do, Mr. Mannix? Prove that Gordon Cameron didn't kill Mrs. Olson?
Joe: You want him convicted, even if he's innocent?
Aileen: If he didn't do it, why did he run away?
Joe: That's a question everybody seems to be asking. Thanks.

James: I want to prevent the man from having a second murder on his conscience. Find him! Tell him there's no need to kill again. His secret is safe! Can you do that?
Joe: I can try.

Joe: What makes you think Anne has been kidnapped?
William: [shows Joe a copy of a recently dated newspaper] That second column, Mr. Mannix, under Missing Persons.
Joe: [reads the newspaper] "Father, must see you, urgent. Phone you at Joe's. Annie Girl." You're sure this is Anne, and she's going to phone you here?
William: Somebody's going to phone, and I know you're the Joe she's referring to.
Joe: What makes you think that?
William: Because when she visited me in prison, she told me about all her friends. She never mentioned anybody named Joe.
Joe: How did you find out about me?
William: The day after I got out of prison, I got to her apartment house just as you were leaving with her. You came back alone.
Joe: [thinks for a moment] And you checked the registration on my car.
William: Right. Nobody else ever called her Annie Girl either. That was my special name for her when she was a little girl. We talked about that, too.
Joe: Let's suppose this is her ad. There's nothing in it that indicates she's been kidnapped.
William: Yes, there is, there is. You see, she couldn't possibly know I was alive.
Joe: Who could?
William: Well, nobody could know. Somebody's guessing, that's all. Somebody who knew me from before. And whoever it is has got Annie Girl, I know it.
Joe: Sit down, Mr. Avery.
[Avery takes a seat]
Joe: To begin with, you've got some explaining to do.
William: Well, I spent ten years in prison. The day I got out, it looked to me like somebody in a car was following me. When I was sure it, I got a couple of turns ahead of him. I slowed down and jumped out of the car. When it went over the cliff, there was nobody in it.
Joe: Did you get a look at the man in the other car?
William: Not a very good one, but enough to know that I had never seen him before.
Joe: So far, you've told me what you did. Now tell me why.
William: Well, I realized that somebody, maybe several people, were expecting men to lead them to the payroll money. So I decided I wouldn't disappoint them. I drove fast and ended up dead. I figured that would be the end of it.
Joe: And now you think somebody's figured you're not dead.
William: Yes!
Joe: Same person who killed Carl Simmons?
William: [hesitates before answering] I guess so.
Joe: All right. If I get a phone call asking for William Avery, I'll tell him that all I know is what I read in the papers, and the papers say Avery is dead.
William: No, no, no, no. You can't do that.
Joe: Why not? If they got Anne, there's no reason why they shouldn't let her go if they really believe you're dead.
William: They'd still think I told her where the money was.
Joe: You didn't tell her?
William: No.
Joe: But you know.
William: Yeah, I know. I took it, and I hid it. And I spent ten years in jail for it. But I can't let anything happen to Annie.
Joe: You're willing to make a trade? A million dollars for Anne?
William: Yeah.

Joe: [entering the liquor store with a gunshot wound] I've got to use your phone. It's an emergency.
Liquor: Oh, sure.
Joe: Thanks.
[as Mannix dials, the liquor store owner looks at a newspaper and sees Mannix's photo]
Liquor: Hey... you're Mannix. This guy here that got Deetz.
Joe: [weakly] Yeah.
Liquor: [notices Mannix's gunshot wound] Who shot you?
Joe: Kids...
Liquor: Bird? Pot? Those kids?
Joe: Yeah.
[talking into the phone]
Joe: Give me the Gang Squad. Sergeant Packer.
Liquor: [hangs up the phone] No way! Nobody's blowing the whistle on those kids over this phone. If they was to find out, they'd... they'd burn this place down... and me!
Joe: No, they're not going to set fire to anyplace. They're gonna go to jail.
Liquor: Like hell they are! They'll be out on the street before I get up tomorrow! Now, look, buddy, do me a favor and get out of here. I don't care if you bleed to death, but not in my store! So...
[sees two gang members walking towards the liquor store]
Liquor: Here, come here. In here.
[leads Mannix to a bathroom]
Liquor: In there.

Wallace: Thank you for coming so promptly.
Joe: What can I do for you, Mr. Hunter?
Wallace: Did you read about my wife?
Joe: Yes.
Wallace: I want you to find out what happened to her.
Joe: What do the police think?
Wallace: [sighs] Yes, well... they have two theories. Either... either she fell off the boat accidentally, or I pushed her off. The second theory was unspoken, but it was quite obviously in their minds. It happens, apparently.
Joe: What do you think happened to her?
Wallace: I'm totally confused. We were off the coast of Mexico- Baja. One minute, we were laughing and enjoying ourselves. The next...
Joe: Was the water rough?
Wallace: Smooth as glass.
Joe: Any sudden changes in course?
Wallace: We were on automatic pilot.
Joe: Well, is it possible that she could have leaned over the rail for some reason and fell overboard?
Wallace: No, she was an expert swimmer. Besides, she would've called me.
Joe: Mr. Hunter, uh... I have to ask you this. Could she have gone into the water deliberately?
Wallace: Does this look like a picture of a woman in a suicidal depression?
[shows Joe a picture of Gina Hunter on their boat smiling]
Joe: One of the newspaper stories said that, uh, you and Mrs. Hunter were rumored to be on the verge of divorce.
Richard: I can assure you that's absolute nonsense.
Wallace: It's all right, Richard. We did have one short separation.
Joe: When was that?
Wallace: It was a few weeks ago. This cruise was supposed to be a sort of a... second honeymoon.
Joe: If it wasn't suicide, and you're not convinced she didn't fall overboard accidentally... what other explanation could there be?

Ada: [opening the door to her apartment] I was Ada Lee Rennick. It's Mrs. Hayes now.
Joe: Mr. Hayes, uh, do you remember Adam Langer?
Ada: Adam Langer?
[chuckles]
Ada: Of course I remember him.
Joe: Well, I'm doing a magazine article about him. May I come in?
Ada: Of course. Um, come in, Mister...
Joe: Mannix.
Ada: Mm-hmm.
Joe: Thank you.
[walks into Hayes' apartment]
Joe: How well did you know Adam Langer?
Ada: Fairly well.
[closes the door to a room]
Ada: My husband's a little jealous.
Joe: Yeah, I can understand.
Ada: Please sit down.
Joe: Thank you. Uh... how did you first meet Adam?
Ada: Oh, well, every pretty girl on campus knew Adam. He saw to that. We were engaged.
Joe: You beat the competition?
Ada: Oh...
[chuckles]
Ada: ... aren't you nice? Would like chocolate?
Joe: Uh, no thank you.
Eddie: [walking out of the bedroom] Hey, hon, have you...
[sees Joe]
Eddie: What's going on here?
Ada: He's a magazine writer, Eddie.
Joe: I'm doing research on someone Mrs. Hayes went to school with.
Eddie: Like who?
Joe: Adam Langer.
Eddie: Well, she's got nothing to tell you.
[pauses]
Eddie: Get rid of him. I'm hungry.
Ada: All right, Eddie.
[turns to Joe]
Ada: I'm sorry.
Joe: That's quite all right. Oh, Mrs. Hayes, uh, how did you and Adam become unengaged?
Ada: Well, it-it just ended. You know, college romances.
Joe: But you remained friends?
Ada: I've never forgotten Adam. And to tell you the truth, I don't think I ever will.
Joe: Well, could you tell me what Adam was like, who his friends were? It's very important.
Eddie: [calling from the bedrrom] Is he gone?
Ada: Yes, Hon.
Eddie: How about lunch?
Ada: Coming right up. Just a minute.
[she and Joe walk right outside the apartment door]
Ada: [lowering her voice] I'll tell you how Adam and I really broke up. He, uh...
[exhales]
Ada: he lost his head over some sweet young thing from Chicago. Friends introduced them at a dance one night, and uh...
[sighs]
Ada: ... well, the next thing I knew, he called to tell me that, uh, he was going off to see her, and... he hoped there wouldn't be any hard feelings.
Joe: Mm. Do you, uh, remember her name?
Ada: Oh, yes. It's not likely I'd forget that name. Barbara Pearson.
[pause]
Ada: Funny. He, uh, never married her. Well... I guess that's the way things go, huh?
Joe: Yeah.

Joe: I'm sorry, Susan. It looks like I was picked as the Judas goat to lead the lamb to slaughter. Only this time they're gonna try to kill the goat too.

Joe: Hello, Trask.
[Trask doesn't respond]
Joe: I'm talking to you, Trask. Better answer. Bartender thinks I'm talking to myself, he won't serve me.
Emmett: Bug off, Mannix. I'm expecting somebody.
Joe: Thought you might be expecting me.
Emmett: You I can do without.
Joe: Where were you last night?
Emmett: [hesitates to answer] At a prayer meeting. Where else?
Joe: You better come up with a straight answer, Trask, or I'm going to kick that machine out from under you, and you can pray that I don't break you in half before you hit the floor.
Emmett: Look, Mannix, I'm having a business meeting here in a minute, and you're going to louse it up.
Joe: Somebody took a shot at me last night, Trask.
Emmett: Good for somebody.
Joe: The day you were sentenced, you put me first on a list of people to pay back. Remember?
Emmett: So I popped off in court. So what? Look, Mannix, I got bigger things cooking than trying to get even with you. I don't care whether you live or die. Believe me.
Joe: What kind of big things?
[some men enter the bar]
Emmett: Get lost.

Lou: [at the zoo with his daughter Tina] I bet you could walk right under that elephant. I wonder if they'll eat popcorn. Let's see.
[tosses a piece of popcorn over to the elephant that's behind the fence they're standing by]
Tina: Oh.
Lou: Aw, honey.
[chuckles]
Lou: I guess I-I just haven't been giving you much time lately, have I? It'll be different from now on, though.
Tina: Oh, that's okay. I understand. It takes a lot of time to be a famous newspaperman. And that's nice. But what's really nice is today, just the two of us.
Lou: Yeah. I promised you, didn't I? Just the two of us?
Tina: Yeah, yeah.

Joe: [Mrs. Brady has told him that she feels that her husband is still alive] I know how you feel Mrs. Brady, but...
Eve: No. No, it's true. Victor is alive.
Joe: But you just came from his memorial services.
Eve: I had to go through with the services. In fact, Victor insisted on it. Oh, yes, Victor is very much alive. I talked to him on the phone this morning. I picked up the phone, and it was Victor. And he said... "Hi, Eve, baby. Nice day for a funeral." Then he said, "I think somebody is trying to kill me."
Joe: Did he say what happened?
Eve: I asked him. He just laughed... and said old Navy pilots never die, they just swim away.
Joe: Did he say why he didn't want you to call the police?
Eve: How did you know?
Joe: I'm here. The police aren't.
Eve: He said he was in a spot.
Joe: Which means exactly how much, in round figures?
Eve: Nearly a quarter of a million dollars.
Chris: I warned him about those dice tables.
Joe: Mrs. Brady, your husband's in "Who's Who" of the electronic business. Couldn't he somehow have put together a quarter of a million dollars in a pinch?
Eve: There were too many pinches lately, too close together. He lost two big contracts in three months. He couldn't raise that kind of money. Or any kind of money.
Joe: Mr. Allison, how well did you know Mr. Brady?
Chris: I flew with him years ago. The Navy.
Joe: Good pilot?
Chris: Victor could fly a barn door through a hurricane by its hinges.
Joe: What about his plane?
Chris: He kept it at my place in Las Vegas. I serviced it from time to time. As a matter of fact, I gassed it up and rubbed it down a couple of hours before he took off.
Joe: Could anyone have gotten to it?
Chris: I suppose so. Sometimes kids hang around.
Joe: I'm not talking about kid stuff.
Eve: Then you do think somebody tried to kill him?
Joe: He thinks so.

Sheriff: Well, hello, Mannix.
Joe: Sheriff. Is this a raid?
Sheriff: No. But, uh, if it had been, I'd have come a little earlier and caught myself a fish.
Joe: Well, your timing could have been better.
Sheriff: [laughs] Well, sorry about that. But, uh, business goes on as usual, you know. At least, mine does.
[takes out a notepad from his coat pocket and reads what's written]
Sheriff: Uh, Joe Mannix, private investigator, license number 13007. Crop dusting just a hobby with you, or, uh, is the detective business falling off?
Joe: Let me ask you a question, Sheriff. You run a check on every visitor to Carpenter?
Sheriff: Uh, just about. Clint, Sr. put me onto it. You know, he didn't like meddling strangers. So, I thought I'd give Clint, Jr. the same service. What about it, Mannix?
Joe: Well, I was, uh, hired by the Winters Crop-dusting Service to find those two missing pilots. Well, you said yourself you didn't get anyplace with it, so maybe it's time for an outsider.
Sheriff: Well, what I mean is we haven't been able to prove anything, but supposing I was to tell you that there is one party who'd be tickled silly to see Clint, Jr. lose his tail. Of course, proving that he's working at it is something else again.
Joe: Sam Maturian.
Sheriff: [chuckling] Boy, you sure do work fast, don't you?
Joe: Yeah, fast enough to know there are people around here who'd swear by him.
Sheriff: Fast enough to know that he figures he's the rightful owner of a good-sized chunk of the Carpenter spread? Huh? Yeah, that's right. All that acreage out there in orange trees. Now all he does is dig irrigation ditches around them.
Joe: Well, uh, that does change things a little.
Sheriff: It certainly does, doesn't it? Well, I'm, uh, willing to give you all the help I can, you know, but, uh, keep your head down. Oh, uh, by the way, that perfume...
[sniffs]
Sheriff: ... it's kind of special. I wonder what Junior would think if he knew that his wife was visiting a man in his motel room at this hour of the night.

Lyle: This may look like a country club, Mr. Mannix, but when you're shut up in here, you know it's a prison.
Joe: You seem to be taking it well, Mr. Kilburn.
Lyle: Not getting a lot of sleep lately.
Joe: Why not?
Lyle: My partner's murder. I hear the police think it was a burglar. There are a lot of burglars in here. One of them probably has an ice pick with my name on it.
Joe: Are you telling me that you believe Mark Bradford was a contract hit?
Lyle: A contract with two names on it, Mr. Mannix, Mark Bradford's and mine. The syndicate wants Bradford Hotels International.
Joe: And Bradford wouldn't deal?
Lyle: Neither would I. See, the hotels were more than property to Mark. They were his life. I understood that. I'm not certain he would've chosen to die for them. I know damn well I don't want to.
Joe: I take it you don't have the same sentiments for the hotels that your partner did?
Lyle: No, not really.
Joe: Then you would sell, right?
Lyle: No, Bradford Hotels International is not going to become a worldwide laundry for their tainted money. I gave Mark my solemn word when they made their offer.
Joe: I'd say you have a problem.

Lt. Art Malcolm: The time has come, the walrus said, to speak of many things.
Joe: Not the least of them, Murder.

[first lines]
Betsy: Is this where you rent detectives?

Quint: Forgive me for not introducing myself, Mr. Mannix. The young lady is my daughter-in-law. Unhappily... she became a widow when my son was involved in a misunderstanding at the Mexican border. Look at this room, Mr. Mannix. It doesn't look like a... laboratory, does it? Nevertheless, that's what it is.
Joe: A laboratory for what?
Quint: For extracting information. In our business, information is important. You know, the human nervous system is very interesting, Mr. Mannix. It operates on two simple principles: pain and pleasure. Prolonging either... can destroy a man.
Joe: I don't have any information you need.
Quint: You have a name. A name that's necessary to me, and my organization.
Joe: Why?
Quint: Because it is the name of an informer, a spy in my employ. You see, Mr. Mannix, I deal in a commodity, the use of which is frowned upon by law enforcement agencies. And recently, this informer has aborted several of my import operations at a cost to me of millions of dollars. Now, I know... you know the informer's name. I made you a reasonable offer, you refused. Now... you give me no choice... except for my laboratory. Unless, of course you... change your mind. The 25,000 is still there for you to accept.
Joe: No thanks.
Quint: Take off your tie.
[Mannix takes off his tie and hands it to one of Quint's henchman]
Quint: And your jacket.
[Joe takes off his jacket]
Quint: We'll see how stubborn you are under pressure. Wheel me out.

Joe: [Kellaway walks out of a plane after flying it] Miss Kellaway?
Leona: Yes.
Joe: That was, uh, very well done.
Leona: Well, thank you. Compliment me on my plane handling these days, and I'll be your slave forever.
Joe: Well, that won't be necessary. Just a few comments about yesterday's plane handling will do nicely. Out over the ocean.
Leona: You mean the endurance swimmer?
Joe: Right. I'm a private investigator, Miss Kellaway. My name is Mannix.
Leona: Insurance, am I right? Uh, that man's boat-- I read in the paper about it exploding.
Joe: Well, if you've read the papers, you don't just say, "that man's boat." That ant-like figure that was floating around down there was none other than Dana Royal.
Leona: Yes, how about that? Uh, but I-I don't see what this...
Joe: Well, we don't know that there was anything irregular, but we like to cover the case from, oh, call it pre-blastoff to rescue, which seems to include you. The papers were just a bit sketchy.
Leona: Well, I was... practicing some banking turns out over the water. The plane belongs to Bayside here. I'm sort of their golden girl. Soloed in six hours to the minute after my first lesson.
Joe: You should've been my instructor.
Leona: Of course, I had to work at it. Didn't help my regular career one bit.
Joe: What career was that?
Leona: I'm a photographer. I have a studio on the strip. If you ever want to be a centerfold in a magazine, just give me a call.
Joe: I'll remember that.
Leona: Yes... the banking turns. Oh, well, I must have been about 18 miles out, winged over, and there was this seal. I mean, I thought it was a seal except it seemed to be clinging to something, which is pretty weird. Then after I buzzed it a couple of times, of course I saw it was this man, waving his hand.
Joe: There's "that man" again.
Leona: All right. Dana Royal. But from a couple of thousand feet up, who's to know?
Joe: Yeah, right. At that altitude, a quick pass, uh, who's to even know Royal from a waterlogged woman?
Leona: Well, I suppose you wouldn't. But later, it turned out it was a man. That's why I must have put it that way automatically.
Joe: So you, uh, got on the radio with an S.O.S.
Leona: Along came the Coast Guard chopper, and I flew back, feeling as though... well, as though I'd earned my merit badge for the day.
Joe: Score one for the Girl Scouts. Well, I'm, uh, much obliged to you, Miss Kellaway, as I imagine Mr. Royal is, to put it mildly.
Leona: That I wouldn't know.
Joe: Oh?
Leona: I doubt he even knows my name.
Joe: Well, I'd say the that's, uh, his loss.
Leona: Thank you, Mr. Mannix. You can visit me in my studio anytime.

Nightclub: Who's the John? You looking for trouble John?
Joe: Oh, no, no. If you come in a little closer, I'll explain.
Nightclub: What?
Joe: You see, I'm not looking for trouble Jack. But if you keep making big noises, you could change my mind. Now, why don't you get lost before you do that, huh. Okay?
Nightclub: Okay.

Peggy: He thinks I deserve a raise.
Joe: [Wincing while drinking a cup of coffee] Soon as your coffee gets better.
Peggy: You made that pot!
Joe: Soon as my coffee gets better.

Burt: Carlton West was one of my oldest and dearest friends, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: For an old, dear friend, he cost you quite a bit.
Burt: If he'd only come to me and explained, I would've been happy to help him out of any of his financial difficulties.
Joe: Stolen securities are not financial difficulties, Mr. Sands. They're a felony. Grand theft.
Burt: Well, I wouldn't know anything about that. Carlton managed a modest portfolio for me, that's all.
Joe: I don't know how to tell you this, Mr. Sands, but I have information that indicates West didn't kill himself. He was murdered.
Burt: You must be joking.
Joe: No, I'm not.
Burt: But that's incredible. The suicide note, the autopsy report, the police said there was no question.
Joe: Mrs. West had the very same reaction when I told her.
Burt: You've talked to her?
Joe: Yes, about a half hour ago. She was very upset. You see, the police can now place Carlton West far from the so-called suicide scene, about the time it was supposed to have happened.
Burt: But who would kill him?
Joe: Somebody with a lot more than a modest portfolio at stake.
Burt: Mr. Mannix, if you find anything to prove what you've just been telling me, I'd be more than happy to pay you double your usual fee. I think I owe that much to Carlton and to Ellen.
Joe: Thank you, Mr. Sands, but I have a client. However, if I do turn up anything new, I'll be glad to keep you informed.
[shakes hands with Sands]
Burt: Well, I'll be grateful, Mr. Mannix, most grateful.

Joe: Mr. Lachlan?
Bob: Yes.
Joe: I'm Joe Mannix.
Bob: Oh, thank you for coming, Mr. Mannix. Come in. This is my daughter-in-law, Jan, Alex's wife.
Joe: [shakes hands with Jan] How do you do?
Jan: Hello.
Bob: And her brother Harry.
Joe: Harry.
Harry: Hello.
Joe: Where's your son?
Jan: He's in Harry's room resting. Dr. Wade gave him a sedative.
Bob: Doc said it's amnesia. Could be he was shell shocked.
Joe: And he remembers absolutely nothing?
Harry: Complete blank.
Bob: Two years since he was killed, we thought, in Vietnam. Department of Defense thought so, too. And then, a couple of hours ago, he... he just walked in.
Joe: Did you, uh, notify the Army?
Bob: When I turn Alex over to the Army, I want to make sure that... well, that he hasn't been in any kind of trouble.
Joe: Oh. Do you think he has been?
Bob: He had these. False passport, his picture, the name of Dan Turner.
Harry: And a Hong Kong visa, a U.S. immigration stamp. Today's date, Los Angeles. And other papers in his wallet there, all in the name of Dan Turner, and over $2,000 in cash.
Bob: We feel we better have some answers before he gets tied up in Army red tape.
Joe: Well, I'll, uh, talk to him, see what I can find out.
Jan: I'll take you to him.
[leads Joe to Harry's room]
Joe: Oh, uh... maybe I better talk to him alone.
Jan: Mm.

Jenny: [Joe and Mrs. Cole enter her hospital room] Mom.
Martha: [hugs Jenny] Jenny. Oh, my baby. I didn't believe them when they called me. I wanted to. You have no idea how much I wanted to. Baby, it's what I prayed for. Now... now you're here, and you're looking at me and you're talking to me.
Jenny: Oh, Mom, I'm so happy.
[sees Joe]
Jenny: Joe.
Joe: Welcome back, Jenny. It's good to have you with us again.
Jenny: Thank you.
Martha: Baby, you have no idea how often Joe came to see you since you've been here.
Jenny: And I never knew. You know what it's like? It's like being born again, a whole new beginning.
Joe: Yeah, not bad timing either. I mean, next week's your birthday. We're going to do something very special.
Martha: Yes. Oh, Doctor, we can plan on that, can't we? She... she can be with us at home?
Dr. Hanson: Well, we'll see how therapy goes, but I'd say yes. The main thing right now is that old standby - plenty of rest. Uh, which reminds me...
Joe: Uh, you've made your point, Doctor. Martha.
Martha: Now, you do just as Dr. Hanson says, and I'll be close by. I love you.
Jenny: Oh, that goes for me, too, Mom.

Anton: [sitting with Joe in the back room of a restaurant offering him coffee] You, uh, want some, uh, cream, sugar?
Joe: Uh, black is fine.
Anton: How, uh, how come I don't hear from Henderson a whole week already?
Joe: Because he's dead. A bomb in his car. It was in all the papers.
Anton: Papers? I don't read so good. My kid, she... used to read to me. She went to school... she... she read lots of books. A bomb? He was a pretty nice fellow.
Joe: Mmm.
Anton: What am I gonna do now?
Joe: Would you like me to take over the case?
Anton: Well, on the telephone, you told me that you're too busy, you know.
Joe: Not anymore.
Anton: But I don't pay you no more than I pay him, $462.00. That's all I got in the bank.
Joe: Special rate this week, uh, no charge.
Anton: No, no. Just, I don't want no favors. No favors. $462.00. You get me the fella who killed my daughter.
Joe: We'll, uh, discuss the fee later. What did Henderson say to you the last time you saw him? Uh, did he have a lead?
Anton: No. He talked with my kid's friends at the high school, St. Ignatius.
Joe: Came up empty?
Anton: Same, like the cops.
Joe: Do you, uh, do you have a picture of your daughter?
Anton: Sure.
[walk back to the counter and takes a picture sitting on the cash register]
Anton: Here. It's from two years ago.
Joe: [looks at the picture] She was very pretty.
Anton: Mmm.
Joe: Do you mind if I borrow this?
Anton: I want the fella that killed her.
Joe: Drugs killed your daughter.
Anton: You find him for me! I'll give him to the police when I'm through.
Joe: Mr. Wojeska...
Anton: Five minutes, that's all. I guarantee he don't sell no drugs to no more kids, never.
Joe: Mr. Wojeska, now you listen to me. You let the law punish him. Now, they don't like pushers either.
Anton: You got a kid?
Joe: No.
Anton: Okay. You ever go in a hospital... and the doctor says, "Is this your kid?" and you don't even recognize her? Her whole face is blue, and she's just lying there waiting to die.
[clears throat]
Anton: That ever happen to you?
Joe: No.
Anton: Okay. Five minutes.
Joe: I'm sorry. I can't give him to you.
[gets up from his seat]
Anton: [grabs Joe's arm] YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON WOJESKA?
Joe: I'm not turning my back on you, Mr. Wojeska. I'm gonna talk to somebody who might know the man who hooked daughter.

Ray: [spying on Joe and Mrs. Graham through a telescope on the roof of Griffith Observatory] I told you it'd work. He's got the money.
John: Let me take a look.
Ray: Well, how do you like that? I got them eating right out of my hand. Six long years. Now I'm home free.
John: [sees Joe standing beside the car through the telescope] Too bad about you, friend.
Ray: What?
John: You've been taken.
Ray: What are you talking about? I mean, he brought the money just like I told him to. It's in that black bag there.
John: That's not her attorney. He's a private cop named Joe Mannix, and if he's here, it's a trap.

Joe: Awhile back I read a story in the paper about a James Conway that had left the priesthood and was working with drug addicts. Are you that James Conway?
James: That's me.

Janice: [talking to Joe privately alongside her pool] I might as well tell you, Mr. Mannix. I had you checked out thoroughly.
Joe: Well, that makes sense.
Janice: I liked what I heard. Among other things, I was told you never betray a confidence. Is that true?
Joe: I haven't had too many complaints.
Janice: Does my name mean anything to you?
Joe: Yes, it does.
Janice: What?
Joe: Well, about six years ago, your son was kidnapped while he was playing in a park. You received a ransom note, you agreed to the demands, but something went wrong at the drop. The kidnapper escaped, and there was no trace your son.
Janice: No trace of Peter has ever been found, Mr. Mannix. I just always assumed that he was dead until this morning. And now-now I don't know what to believe.
Joe: What happened this morning?
Janice: Another ransom note.
[gives to note to Joe]
Janice: Do you think it's genuine?
Joe: I can't say yet.
Janice: [shows him another ransom note] This was the ransom note that came six years ago.
Joe: [takes the note from six years ago and compares it to the one she just received] Well, except for the different amounts of money, I'd say they came from the same person.
Janice: Do you think it's possible that Peter is still alive?
Joe: I'll have to check, Mrs. Graham, but I'd say it is possible, yes.
Janice: Oh. Six years, it's like an eternity. I mean, people change, lives change, nothing stays the same, not even hope.
Joe: What about your husband?
Janice: Oh, I don't know. Howard... Howard and I only stayed together a couple of years after... after Peter was kidnapped. Things got very bad between us. We started to blame each other for all the things we didn't do when Peter was still with us.
Joe: You're separated?
Janice: Yes. Howard has his bank functions, his racing cars, spends most of his time in Paris.
Joe: Don't you think he should be told?
Janice: No. Oh, no, absolutely not. It was his panic that scared away the kidnapper the first time. He must not know, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: And you're going to try and raise the ransom money?
Janice: Yeah, I'll-I'll start to try to collect it today.
Joe: Suppose this turns out to be someone's idea of a joke?
Janice: Well, that's why I hired you. Before I get my hopes up, I want to find out once and for all if my son is dead or alive.
Joe: Well, I'd like to take these along with me. Oh, if anybody calls, let me know right away, huh?
Janice: You know, Peter... Peter was two years old when he was taken away from me. Do you think children still remember their parents after all these years?
Joe: You loved him?
Janice: Oh, yes.
Joe: He'll remember.
[walks back to his car and leaves]

Mona: Hi.
Joe: Hi.
Mona: A star is born.
Joe: Well, you see, I happen to be sitting in this drug store.
Mona: Do you happen to have a drink?
Joe: So happens. Scotch?
Mona: No, nothing. Thanks. I gave up drinking. I just wanted to remind myself that I'm a girl of tremendous willpower. Mitch knows you're watching him. He doesn't like you.
Joe: Figures. Excuse me.
Mona: Oh, relax. They're just going over to wardrobe. It's Friday night. The Mardi Gras. They'll be back. That Mitch is an independent cat. He looks after himself. Resents you. He'd do anything to get you off his back.
Joe: He's already had a go at it.
Mona: Well, you didn't yell chicken.
Joe: If I didn't get out, it'd be bad for business.
Mona: What did you hear from the Prop Department?
Joe: I drew a blank.
Mona: That's very funny.
Joe: Wasn't intended to be.
Mona: Well, somebody switched that blank with a live cartridge.
Joe: Question: Who is he?
Mona: Or she. There's something you should know.
Joe: There's something you've been aching to tell me ever since you breezed in here.
Mona: You know Carol Relly-- that girl who was on the motorcycle with Pete Joplin yesterday? She thought Mitch was picking her up. That's a game-made play when Mitch has had it with a girl, she gets passed on to his double. 'Course, it comes as a complete surprise to her. There's been a long line of those hand-me-downs. Any one of those girls would have good reason to to kill him. How do you like that Mitch?
Joe: How do you?
Mona: Well, he's just a boss to me. Strictly business. I don't fall for that famous Cantrell smile.
Joe: A girl with tremendous willpower.
Mona: You bet.
Joe: Even this morning when you were massaging him. The way you warmed the job, that isn't what I would call strictly business.
Mona: You were seeing things.
Joe: Yeah. A lot of willpower going down the drain.
[the phone rings]
Joe: Hello? Uh, Mona, wait.
[Mona walks out of the toom]

Joe: Besides, it's a nine-year-old girl.
Lieutenant: Well, I don't care if she's the sweetheart of Sigma Chi.

Nedda: Hello, Joe.
Joe: Hello, Nedda.
Nedda: It's been a long time.
Joe: Yeah, let's see, you were getting rid of husband number three.
Nedda: Ah, Dick, of course. Come on in.
Joe: Congratulations, Nedda, I mean, on the career. I keep seeing your name in lights.
Nedda: Yes, Nedda Carroll, Rocky Mountain Songbird. Isn't it all wonderful?
Joe: Hmm, marrying Tony Kordic didn't do any harm. By the way, how many nightclubs did he buy you?
Nedda: Now, don't be nasty. As a matter of fact, he does own a few.
Joe: I'm sure.
Nedda: I have a feeling that you didn't come to see me.
Joe: Well, it's, it's about the shooting today.
Tony: A visitor, Nedda? We agreed to spend tonight alone and retire early.
Nedda: Well, yes, darling, I know we did, but it was such a big surprise. This is Joe Mannix. Come on, I want you to meet him. Joe and I, well, we used to double-date. Joe and his girlfriend, and me and Al.
Tony: Let's not review your past. You're in show business, too, Mr. Mannix?
Nedda: Well, actually, no, darling. Joe is a private investigator, and I think he hoped to meet you through me. Right, Joe?
Joe: Something like that.
Tony: Nedda, get Mr. Mannix a drink.
Joe: Thank you. Scotch on the rocks.
Tony: Twice
Nedda: Yes, darling, of course.
Joe: You must be very proud of Nedda.
Tony: Extremely. Exactly why'd you want to see me, Mr. Mannix?
Joe: Harry Forrest is a very old and good friend of mine. I owe him a lot. I intend to find out who shot Harry.
Tony: I'm afraid I must tell you what I told the police. I haven't the faintest idea who did it.
Tony: Or why?
Joe: Or why.
Joe: But he was working for you?
Tony: If you're trying to connect the attempt on his life with the assignment I gave him...
Joe: Why did you hire him?
Tony: For the same reason you're here- friendship.
Nedda: Here you are.
[hands Tony and Joe their scotch on the rocks drinks]
Joe: Thanks. You and Harry?
Tony: We grew up in the same neighborhood. Very rough. We went our different ways. Lately, one of my corporations- the Kordic Olive Oil Company- had a problem, a matter of short inventory. I needed someone to check out personnel, so I got in touch with Harry. It was a simple job.
Joe: Did he uncover anything?
Tony: Nothing. Poor Harry; it's sad. I'll pay all the hospital bills.

Joe: [after the sheriff hands Mannix the reckless driving ticket] Sheriff, uh, can we go now?
Sheriff: Oh, yes. Just be careful of the accelerator. That's the expensive pedal.
[laughs]

Morgan: [sitting across from Joe at Hippeland] What do you say, man? Like the rag?
Joe: You got something to do with it?
Morgan: Everything, baby. Everything. Editor, publisher, star reporter.
[stretches out his hand for Joe to shake]
Morgan: Name's, uh, Morgan Carpenter.
Joe: [lifts his hand to shake Carpenter's] Oh, uh, Mannix. Joe Mannix.
Morgan: Mannix. Yeah. Insurance business, right, huh?
Joe: Hey, that's great. How'd you know?
Morgan: I'm a reporter, man. It's my business to know people. You dig?
[chuckles]
Morgan: Besides, a lady named Cindy Gier called. Said I should keep an eye out for you. Pretty wild, huh?
Joe: Oh, yeah. She's great. Yeah great.
[pointing to a lady dancing behind Carpenter]
Joe: She's not bad either.
Morgan: Want me to fix you up with her, huh?
Joe: Oh, maybe some other time, huh? Right now, I'm looking for Jill Bonnet.
Morgan: How's that, man?
Joe: [speaking louder] Jill Bonnet!
[pause]
Joe: You know where I can find her?

Ken: [having breakfast with Joe, talking about him being attacked by a burglar at his workplace] I don't know. It happened so fast. Zonk - I was out!
Joe: You haven't any idea what he looked like?
Ken: No. You sure you won't eat something? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Joe: No thanks.
[notices that Ken is putting an unusually large amount of hot sauce on his eggs]
Joe: And with all that hot sauce, it must be a fire hazard, too.
Ken: Well, every man to his own poison. Kills the taste of the eggs.
Joe: Any idea what he hit you with?
Ken: No, but it felt like a baseball bat. It was the same the last time.
Joe: This happened once before?
Ken: Last March. I was getting out of my car in the garage. Somebody belted me from behind. I don't know who or what. Fortunately, a neighbor was passing by walking his dog, scared the guy off.
Joe: Would you know anyone who'd want to kill you?
Ken: That's what I'm hiring you to find out.
Joe: Why me, not the police?
Ken: You know, in the toy business, we're dealing with children. Any association with crime or violence is bad publicity. That's why I want you to handle this as quietly as possible.
Joe: Well, uh, to start with, you'd better show me where it happened.

Joe: [He, Karin, and Johnny are tied to poles in an abandoned ghost town building. Karin is struggling to free herself from the ropes she is bound to] It won't do any good, Karin. Those men are professionals.
Johnny: I guess I'm slowin' down. I can't make it out. Stealing a couple of a million dollars somewhere in England. You just don't run into that sort of thing scratching around the Paiute mountains.
Joe: I know it's hard to believe, but it is happening.
Johnny: When they get that boodle, they won't need us anymore, right?
Karin: [looks at Johnny and then at Joe] It's alright, Mr. Mannix, I'm grown up. You don't have to spell it out for me. Those men are big-time thieves. They're not going to leave anybody around to point out their trial.
Johnny: Come on, honey. Don't look to the bad side so fast.
Karin: It's there. Not lookin' at it won't change anything. You said they're professionals. You are too, right? Johnny and I, about all we can do is just listen to you and try to help if there's any way.
Joe: That jeep of yours, does it have any special equipment? Weapons or anything?
Johnny: Nothing special that I can think of anyways. Karin?
Karin: Well, there's a .22, but the firing pin's jammed.
Johnny: There's a machete, pick and shovel, drills... rock picks, that's about all.
Karin: And I'm afraid nobody's waitin' on us. Johnny just made that up.
Johnny: Me and Karin... we're all the family we've got. I guess you'd call us a couple of loners.
Joe: Isn't there somebody who'll miss you? Somebody at the place where you get the supplies?
[Karin and Johnny shake their heads]
Johnny: Afraid not.
Joe: How about out in the desert, did you run across anybody at all?
Johnny: We kept away from people... at least the ones we spotted.
Joe: Why?
[Johnny doesn't answer]

Joe: Well, what can I do for you, Miss Warren?
Cindy: Well, um, after I left headquarters last night, I didn't feel like going back to that house, so I checked into a motel in West L.A. I was there I guess about maybe ten minutes and I got a phone call from a man, and, uh, he threatened me.
Joe: Do you know who it was?
Cindy: No.
Joe: Well, what exactly did the man say, exactly, word for word?
Cindy: Well, he said... he said something like, "Did Monty rap to anyone before he died?"
Joe: What did you tell him?
Cindy: I said I didn't think so. And then, uh... Hey, I'm not exactly sure how all this went down, but, well, he kept hitting on, "Did Monty and Victor Jury talk?" Oh, yeah, he asked if Monty made any phone calls.
Joe: Did he?
Cindy: Well, not after Victor and I got there.
Joe: Did he mention anything about Monty's mother or buttons... or General D.?
Cindy: No.
Joe: Anything else?
Cindy: Yeah. The last thing he said to me was, "If you talk, Miss Warren, you're going to wind up like Monty did."
Joe: Talk about what?
Cindy: I don't know.
Joe: Have you any idea?
Cindy: No, I asked him and he hung up.
[Peggy walks in with some coffee]
Joe: Peggy, see if you can get John Randolph on the phone, huh?
Peggy: The postal inspector of the Federal Building?
Joe: Yeah, ask him if he can find out if there's any mail being held for Monty Dawes at a general-delivery office anywhere in this area.
Peggy: Right.
Cindy: It's really weird. I'm caught up in something, but I don't know what it is. Why me? I don't know why I'm involved. I don't know what I'm going to do to get out.
Joe: Well, the first thing to do is find a safe place for you to stay until we come up with some answers.

Joe: [Answering the phone] Mannix.
Peggy: Joe? I know how how I got the blue paint.
Joe: Blue paint?
Peggy: On my jacket. It came from the panel truck parked next to your car at the airport.
Joe: Peggy, why don't you just send them the cleaning bill, huh? I'm busy.
Peggy: And I'm serious. I think the morphine is in that truck. I got a whole theory about it.
Joe: And my theory is, Peggy, that secretaries should concentrate on the telephone and the typewriter. Now, goodbye.
[Click]

Girl: Will you be all right?
Joe: Groovy, groovy, groovy.

Joe: [Norman Thompson enters Joe's office] Mr. Thompson.
Norman Thompson: Uh, th-thank you for seeing me, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Please, sit down.
Norman Thompson: Oh, uh, thank you. I, uh...
[chuckles]
Norman Thompson: I don't quite know, uh, wh-where to begin. I...
Joe: Well, now, just take your time. What seems to be bothering you?
Norman Thompson: Well, it-it's something that I saw the night before last, or at least I'm... I'm pretty sure I saw it.
Joe: What's that?
Norman Thompson: A man shot.
Joe: Go on, Mr. Thompson.
Norman Thompson: [sighs] Well, it-it was just after 2:00 in the morning and I was on my way to my hotel, the Markham- I always stay the Markham when I'm in town- and heard what I-I-I thought at first was a backfire. Only there were... there were no other cars on the street. So-so then I realized the sound must've come from one of the buildings- maybe a-a window or the roof. I looked up; there was nothing. And then I-I-I looked across the street.
Joe: And?
Norman Thompson: Well, outside one of the apartment buildings, I saw a man had fallen in the bushes, and I realized what I had heard was a gun and the man was shot. And I also knew from the way he was lying there that...
[sighs]
Norman Thompson: ... that he was dead.
Joe: "The way he was lying there"?
Norman Thompson: Well, I-I-I was in the army in Korea, Mr. Mannix. You get to know when a man has been... hit fatally.
Joe: What did you do?
Norman Thompson: Well, I'm-I'm afraid I panicked. I went on to my hotel.
Joe: And, uh, what do you want me to do, Mr. Thompson?
Norman Thompson: To find out if I saw what I think I saw. I've-I've heard nothing about it since.
Joe: Well, you know it would be much easier and a lot cheaper if you called the police department. Now, they would do it for nothing.
Norman Thompson: I suppose so. I mean, I-I know I should have... have notified the police, but I-I-I just... I can't afford to get involved right now.
Joe: Why not?
Norman Thompson: [chuckles softly] Well, I-I was our that evening with a lady, a... a married lady. I... I was afraid that if I called the police, there'd be questions.
Joe: Now, uh, you say you were across the street, and you're pretty sure about all of this? The shot and the man dead in the bushes?
Norman Thompson: Yes. The sound of the gunshot and the body. The combination scared me. All I could think of was getting out of there, because of my... my friend.
Joe: The lady.
Norman Thompson: Yes.
Joe: And you went straight to the Markham?
Norman Thompson: Yes, I've been watching the newspapers, and there's been nothing. Nothing! It's driving me crazy. I-I see a man shot dead, and then... nothing. I'm-I'm even beginning to wonder if...
Joe: Wonder what?
Norman Thompson: [sighs] Well, it's possible that I was mistaken, and that he wasn't dead, he was just hurt, and that he died because I failed to notify somebody in time. I mean, I-I've got to know, Mr. Mannix. You understand, don't you?
[Mannix just smiles at Thompson]
Norman Thompson: Can you help me?
Joe: Well... I'll do what I can, Mr. Thompson.
Norman Thompson: I-I-I can't ask you to spend a lot of time on this. I-I'm not a rich man.
Joe: Well, let's not worry about that right now. And so far, there isn't even a case.

Lt. Art Malcolm: Hello Peggy. Bad year for termites.
Peggy: Not if you're a termite.

Joe: I'm sorry, I uh... don't usually pull a gun on my cleaning ladies, but uh... you gotta admit you're doing a sloppy job.

Philip: Great Pacific Insurance Company. What's all this about, Mr. Mannix?
Joe: Ollie Packer's suicide.
Philip: Well, I don't understand. I told the police everything I knew when it happened. As a matter of fact, I was the one that called them.
Joe: Yes, I know, that's why I'm here. I like firsthand information.
Philip: Oh, is it a question of the policy?
Joe: Well, that's a confidential matter. However, if you'd rather not talk about it.
Philip: No, no, no. Please sit down.
Joe: Thank you.
Philip: Now what is it you want to know?
Joe: Everything that happened that day.
Philip: Well, Ollie had been acting strangely for the last two or three days. He was very upset. Very nervous. Called me over to his home to discuss a business deal. At one point, I went into another room to get some papers from his files. I heard a shot. I went running back into the living room. And there he was sprawled across a table. He was still alive.
Joe: How long did he live?
Philip: Just a few seconds.
Joe: Did he say anything?
Philip: He tried to, but no. So I called the police.
Joe: Nobody else in the house?
Philip: No, it was the servants' day off. You know, talking about it like this kind of brings it back, doesn't it?
Joe: What sort of business deal were you discussing?
Philip: Oh, just routine. Acquisition of a small factory. Stereo components and such.
Joe: Mr. Crane... do you know this man?
[shows Crane a picture of the waiter from the picture he looked at earlier]
Philip: Yes, I believe he served drinks at a party Mr. Packer gave.
Joe: Do you know his name?
Philip: Ernest.
Joe: His last name?
Philip: I'm sorry, Mr. Mannix, we were never formally introduced.
Joe: Of course. And you never saw him but at that one party?
Philip: That's right. He probably came from a catering service. If you like, I can check Mr. Packer's files and call you.
Joe: Thank you.
Philip: Not at all, Mr. Mannix.

Joe: It looks like Mr. Quinn led a very active outdoor life as well.
Manager: Well, what good did it do him? You exercise, breathe deep, eat all the right foods. What does it get you? Shot by some crazy sniper.

Dr. Lang: I don't find any organic damage, either to the eye proper, or the connective ophthalmic system.
Joe: What's that supposed to mean?
Dr. Lang: That means there's no pathological reason why you can't see.
Joe: Why can't I?
Dr. Lang: You have a case of psychosomatic blindness.
Joe: Psychosomatic?
Dr. Lang: There's no simple explanation, Mr. Mannix.
[the doctor walks to the window and opens the blinds to the examining room]
Dr. Lang: You live a dangerous and complex life. You risk it constantly in your profession. To you that's just... an occupational hazard. But you're a man. And mortal. When that bullet caught you, only the thickness of a single hair kept you from being killed. In that split second, you felt death. Your eyes saw it. They couldn't stand it, and they closed.
Joe: For how long?
Dr. Lang: Your sight could come back in six months... six days... or even six hours.
Joe: Or never.
Dr. Lang: Or never.

Joe: What are you saying, Moore? Are you saying that Harry and some of his boys are out there, that you brought them?
Alton K. Moore: Brought them?
[chuckling]
Alton K. Moore: No, I didn't have to bring them, Mr. Mannix. They're just always there, like the tattoo you got when you were eighteen and wish you could forget.

Ramsey: Make a move, Mannix, and you're dead. Turn around.
[Joe turns around slowly]
Ramsey: Slowly now, with your left hand, lose your gun on the floor.
[Joe drops his gun on the floor]
Ramsey: Turn around and take a step forward easy.
[Joe turns around and takes one step forward]
Ramsey: That's enough. Now, what's your business with Raphael?
Joe: Who?
Ramsey: Come on. Bruno Raphael.
Joe: Raphael? I didn't know him before they ran him out of the country. I certainly wouldn't have any business with him now. I came here to see a Mr. Baxter. He called.
Ramsey: All right, Mannix, alright. We can have it friendly, or we can have it tough. You're a private cop. You're working for Raphael.
Joe: I told you, I'm not.
Ramsey: Oh, he's been here, hasn't he? Staked out here in this place?
[Joe doesn't answer]
Ramsey: He's in L.A.!
Joe: You're going at this all wrong, friend.
Ramsey: [smiles] All right. Count three.
[aims his gun at Joe]
Ramsey: Let's hear it!
Joe: You're making a big mistake.
Ramsey: You said, "one," right?
Joe: I can't tell you anything.
Ramsey: You said, "two."
[cocks his gun]
Joe: All right. Hold it. Hold it. Maybe, uh, there is one thing.
[Tate uncocks his gun, only for Joe to lunge at him and fight]

[Joe Mannix is forcibly brought by an armed chauffeur to meet with Sam Dubrio, who is supervising renovations at his estate]
Sam: I'm Sam Dubrio.
Joe: Nice meeting you. And goodbye.
[Mannix turns to leave when the chauffeur draws the .45 and aims it at him]
Sam: Don't you know what that thing is?
Joe: Sure, but a gun in the hand doesn't mean the world by the tail.

Josh: Joe, why did you leave the hospital? Are you sure it was wise?
Joe: I had to get away from Mel.
Josh: Mel? He's very upset about this. He's trying to help you.
Joe: Help me or trying to make sure he kills me this time?
Josh: Joe, that's ridiculous. Why would he want to harm you?
Joe: That's why I'm here, Josh. You're his lawyer. He's in all kinds of deals. You know his business associates, his personal involvements. There's got to be some connection to me - something he doesn't want me to find out.
Josh: Joe, you know I can't talk about that.
Joe: You've got to.
Josh: If I were your lawyer, I wouldn't tell him about you, either.
Joe: I have to know, Josh!
Josh: Joe, you walk out of a hospital with wild accusations. You ask me to betray a client's confidence, and you blow up at me, that's...
Joe: Insane?
Josh: I didn't say that. But you're not yourself. Joe, you'll kill yourself this way. Please, go back to the hospital.
Joe: And sign my death warrant? No. If I'm going to die, Josh... I'd rather do it on my own.

[In the final scene, Lew Wickersham holds a meeting in a conference room with Intertect department heads]
Lew: Now, for the benefit of those who couldn't make it last time...
Joe: [enters without knocking] Lew, I...
Lew: [takes off glasses] Oh, hello Joe, what is it?
Joe: [realizing he's interrupting] Uh, it'll hold.
Lew: How'd it go?
Joe: I found the girl.
[Mannix leaves]
Executive: Who was that?
Lew: [smiles watching Mannix depart, then puts on glasses to resume the meeting] His name is Mannix.

Joe: All right, Frankie, what do you want?
Frankie: To make you an offer. How does ten grand sound?
Joe: For what?
Frankie: A little information.
Joe: Keep talking.
Frankie: There's some kind of letter floating around. It's supposed to contain proof that I'm the guy that was mixed up with Stonehurst International and Tip Ellis.
Joe: Mm-hmm. I see. How do you, uh, know about the letter?
Frankie: Lt. Malcolm and some hick cop from Fresno gave me a bad half hour this morning. Nothing my lawyer couldn't handle. But Fresno let it slip. Have you any idea what's in that letter, Joe?
Joe: A pretty good idea.
Frankie: [smiles] No. No, I don't think you do know. Because if it had anything to do with me, true or false, you'd have told Malcolm and I'd be in custody by now.
Joe: Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
Frankie: The letter's a fake, Joe.
Joe: How do you know that?
Frankie: Someone's trying to frame me.
Joe: Someone's always trying to frame you, Frankie.
Frankie: 20,000 bucks, Mannix, if you find that letter and give it to me unopened.
Joe: You said the letter was a fake.
Frankie: It is, but someone else might not think so.
Joe: You know what I think really happened, Frankie?
Frankie: No, tell me.
Joe: The second-story man you hired to burgle my safe double-crossed you. He read the letter and decided it was worth a thousand times what you paid him to steal it. So if you're offering me 20,000 for it because he wants a million. Oh, uh, pardon the intrusion, ma'am.

Peggy: What do you think happened to her?
Joe: We don't know that anything has happened to her. It's not unusual for a girl to take a day off, is it?
Peggy: Coming from you, that's original.

Joe: I, uh, went to Mirava.
Adrianna: Did you find what you wanted?
Joe: Mm-hmm. But it wasn't what I expected.
Adrianna: I don't understand.
Joe: Don't you think it's about time to be honest with me?
Adrianna: Honest? I've already told you everything I can.
Joe: Why are you so anxious for me to believe that Victor Valdek is dead?
Adrianna: He *is* dead.
Joe: I think he's alive. I think he's on this island, and... I think you know that.
Adrianna: Victor is dead.
Joe: What I'd really like to know is what hold Victor has over you.
Adrianna: Hold?
Joe: According to the police files, a murderer, a thief, a forger. Why should you want to help a man like that? I think you're into something a lot deeper than you realize. Now, Boldesca was killed just because he wanted to talk to me about Victor Valdek.
Adrianna: [shakes her head] That's a lie.
Joe: Adrianna. I would like to help you.
Adrianna: I am not in need of your help. Victor is dead, and that's all I know.

Joe: [greeting Mildred Oliver] Ah, it's so good to see you, Mildred. Come in. Come in.
Mildred: I was just passing by and I- I saw the name.
Joe: Sit down. Golly, how long has it been?
Mildred: Now, don't you dare. I'm not as old as I look.
Joe: You look just beautiful.
Mildred: It's fall like that that used to allow you to raid the refrigerator, as I remember.
Joe: Well, after all, I was going to school on a G. I. Bill- $110 a month and all you could read.
Mildred: Those were good days, Joe.
Joe: And Mr. Oliver's great barbeques- what a feast.
Mildred: Matthew loved to have young people around, especially you, Joe. Thank you for that wonderful letter.
Joe: Well, he was a great guy. And Leslie- how is she?
Mildred: [sinks her head] Fine, as far as I know.
Joe: You weren't just passing by, were you, Mildred?
Mildred: [shakes her head] I'm worried about her, Joe. She's drinking... excessively, I think is the clinical world for it. She was always a high-spirited girl- foolish but forgivable. But parties are just the public part of her drinking these days. It goes on day and night.
Joe: When did this all start?
Mildred: I don't know exactly. It was as if... the wind changed and no one noticed. She got worse after Mathew died. I let it go, hoping she'd find herself.
Joe: But she wasn't really looking.
Mildred: In fact, there was a time when she lost herself completely for months.
Joe: When was that?
Mildred: Five years ago. She just dropped out of sight. I was worried sick.
Joe: Why didn't you call me, Mildred?
Mildred: I thought of it many times. She turned up, finally- married.
Joe: Yeah, I know. I remember seeing his picture.
Mildred: On a tennis court, no doubt.
[Mannix looks at Oliver]
Mildred: Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't say that. Hardly know Glen, really. Mothers rarely approve of their daughters' choice in husbands, do they?
Joe: Well, that's all history, Mildred. What about today?
Mildred: Something's bothering her terribly, Joe. We were supposed to go shopping on Saturday, and she canceled. Then I called her on Sunday and Glen said she was out, but she never called me back. Then yesterday, we were supposed to meet for lunch, and she never showed up. And I still can't get through to her on the phone. Something's dreadfully wrong, Joe.
Joe: How can I help?
Mildred: Well... they're having a cocktail party today at the house. Glen's invited, oh, some important buyers from the East. I'm still on the board, so they had to invite me.
Joe: And you have to invite me for old times' sake.
[Mildred nods]
Joe: Well, I hope they don't mind.

Julian: Come in, Mr. Mannix. I'm Julian Mallory. This is Ben Lorenz, my attorney. I asked him to join us here.
Joe: Mr. Lorenz.
Julian: I believe you said it was urgent.
Joe: Yes, it is.
Julian: I'm due at the San Diego plant. My plane leaves in exactly 40 minutes, so, please, let's get straight to the point.
Joe: Mr. Mallory, I'd like to ask you some questions about financing your experimental plane.
Ben: What's the Tr2 got to do with Chuck Noland's death?
Joe: I was hoping Mr. Mallory could tell me.
Julian: I'm sorry, I fail to see what you're driving at.
Joe: Well, a few years ago, your company almost went under. Whatever cash you had left, you sank into the experimental plane, is that right?
Julian: That's right. This plane's a dream I've had ever since I was a kid. Right after World War II, I thought I could bring it off. Unfortunately, the state of the industry was not then capable of producing a plane reliable and cheap enough to qualify. Now, we have the answers.
Joe: Uh, the answers, but you didn't have the money. It took more than you had planned.
Julian: Doesn't it always?
Joe: So you took in outside investors, specifically Atlas Enterprises.
Julian: That's correct.
Joe: I know it's correct, I was just wondering if it was wise.
Ben: Julian, do you mind?
Julian: Go ahead.
Ben: Mr. Mannix, I don't know what you're implying, but I handled the transaction with Atlas myself. It was all perfectly legal.
Joe: Atlas Enterprises is owned by Lou Morgan, who also owns the building where Chuck Noland was killed.
Ben: And you think that's significant?
Joe: Mr. Mallory, what do you know about Lou Morgan?
Julian: Well, I know that he's a gambler, if that's what you mean.
Joe: In Morgan's case, that's the polite way of saying syndicate.
Julian: The important thing is he had money, Mr. Mannix. Money was what I needed. He wasn't a philanthropist. He believes that plane will make him a fortune, and so do I.
Joe: I've seen what happens to people who let Lou Morgan get a foot in the door.
Julian: Mr. Mannix, *I* still control my company. Wherever the money comes from, what I do with it is strictly legitimate. And now, if you'll excuse me, as I told you, I have a plane to catch.
Joe: Have a nice flight, Mr. Mallory.

Lt. Clay Lockwood: Forget it! Give it up!
Joe: I can't. The farther I go into it the wilder it gets. Next thing you know, I'll find out where you fit in. Clay, you better protect yourself. I'm gonna ride this all the way down.

Joe: What time is it?
Peggy: Seven-twenty.
Joe: Look, why don't you go home before you make your babysitter rich?
Peggy: I haven't finished that Javis report.
Joe: Forget it! We're out of business.
Lieutenant: Joe, listen. I've got this friend - ex-Marine, he's a great guy. He works with the blind...
Joe: You mean... he sells 'em those white canes?
Peggy: Let's face it, Joe - it's a brand new ball game.
Joe: Ball game called because of darkness.
Peggy: You're feeling sorry for yourself, right?
Joe: Can't you get it through your thick head I don't need a secretary? What I need is a seeing-eye dog! Now, can you bark?
Peggy: Yes, I can bark, and I can bite, too! I thought I was working for a guy who could take anything that was handed out to him, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I ought to rent you a corner and give you a tin cup with six pencils!

Roger: [Roger climbs down the trellis and pokes his head into Mannix' office window] Oh, I hope I'm not disturbing you.
Joe: [Initially surprised] Oh, no, not at all.
Roger: Listen, there's a chap locked in the closet in my office. If it's not too inconvenient I'd appreciate it you turning him loose in a moment.
[He throws his office keys to Mannix]
Roger: There. Cheerio!
Peggy: [He leaves. Mannix and Peggy give quizzical looks] Don't panic, I saw him too.
Joe: I was about to ask you what you put into this coffee.

Joe: Well, well, well... Harry Crawford.
Harry: Mr. Mannix. I'm going to ask you a few questions... but only once.
Crawford's: Listen to Mr. Crawford.
Joe: What kind of questions?
Harry: Well, first we know that a friend of ours paid to have you killed. I'd like to know why.
Joe: He's your friend, ask him.
Harry: What's your interest in this artist character, Gemini?
Joe: Well, I, uh, paid him to draw my picture, he didn't deliver it.
Harry: What are you working on? Who hired you?
Joe: Sorry, that's confidential.
Harry: Your professional silence will last a long time in the cemetery.
Joe: Yeah... talking to you will get me in the same place.
Harry: I warned you, Mannix. I expect you to get a name out of him or he leaves here in the meat wagon.

Joe: Say it and you're fired!
Peggy: Sometimes it's not easy to like you.

Dr. Graham Aspinall: Oh, you flatter yourself.
Joe: That's better than no flattery at all.

Peggy: I lost a husband who was a policeman.

Joe: Diana and a cheap hood. That kind of gossip gets around fast. Like a dirty joke.
Jason: I tried to stop her. What could I do, Joe? Lock her in her room? Handcuff her to the bed? I'm not her jailer, I'm her father.

Joe: I was trying to help you, Adam. I brought her in for questioning, so what do you do? You book her and you throw her into a cell.
Lt. Adam Tobias: I had to, I think she killed Lisa Ralph.
Joe: And I say she didn't.
Lt. Adam Tobias: Why? Because she has a romantic accent and a good set of legs?

Charley: You were right, Joe. Pusher in that area is the carhop Smiley. We picked him up.
Joe: Did he talk?
Charley: He told us who was selling to him. Dodie Green.
Joe: Dodie Green? I haven't heard of her in years.
Peggy: Well, has she been arrested?
Charley: Well, we'll go through the motions, Peggy. That's about all we can do. Her attorney will get to Smiley. Smiley will change his story, and then they'll be back in business again the next day.
[a doctor comes out of a room and whispers something to Joe]
Peggy: [Joe shakes his head, indicating that Chico, a person who was hospitalized for using drugs, has died] I know kids take dope, but Chico? Chico taught Toby how to roller-skate.
[Charley looks at Peggy with a questioning look]
Peggy: Toby's my son. Selling dope to school kids. Isn't there something somebody can do about it?
Charley: Peggy, if you're serious, maybe there's something you can do about it.
Peggy: What?
Charley: Get Dodie Green to talk. Who's her boss? What's his source of supply? Get me a lead, something to go on.
Peggy: How do I do that?
Charley: Go underground.
Joe: Why don't you get a policewoman?
Charley: Because Dodie knows most of 'em on sight. The rest of 'em she can smell a mile offshore.
Joe: Come on, Charley, quit conning her. Tell her the truth. Now to get friendly with Dodie Green, she'd have to get down to her level, right?
Charley: That'd be the best way.
Joe: Okay, now tell her what Dodie's police record is for.
Peggy: Tell me, Charley.
Charley: Girls, prostitution.
Joe: Now, why don't you get in your car and go home to bed?
Charley: Peggy... how old did you tell me your son was?
Joe: She didn't. Come on, I'll walk you to your car.
[they start walking, but then suddenly stop]
Peggy: I'll do it, Charley.
Joe: Peggy, you...
Peggy: Joe, no matter what you say, somebody's got to do it.

Joe: [entering a warehouse where Vance Logan is hiding with a gun] Vance! Vance!
Vance: Get out, Joe! Get back out there where you belong with the rest of the fuzz!
Joe: What's wrong, Vance? I never heard you talk like that before in your life.
[walks up a flight of stairs]
Vance: Stay down there, Joe! Or I'll kill you!
Joe: You couldn't kill me, Vance. We've been friends too long.
Vance: I will, Joe! I swear! You're not getting me out of here alive!
Joe: [reaches the same floor that Vance is on] What's got into you, Vance? All the police want to do is talk to you.
Vance: No way.
Joe: I don't know what the trouble is, but I do know it's not big enough to make you use that gun. Look, even if you ran into somebody's car...
Vance: I did. I did. And I didn't stop because I'd had a couple of drinks. And I knew if the police took me down to the station, they'd lock me up and throw the key away.
Joe: For a misdemeanor? You know better than that.
Vance: You know better, maybe. But not me. You got skin the right color.
Joe: Come off it, Vance! I don't know what's turned you on. Why don't you get rid of that gun and walk out of here with me? Whatever it is, we can work it out together.
Vance: [cocks the gun in his hand] Stay right where you are, Joe. You take one more step, and you're dead!
[turns to run down the stairs that Joe came up, and Joe runs after him]

Frank: [reading the newspaper about Art Malcolm's murder] You did very well last night, Mannix.
Joe: Did I?
Frank: Mm. I have a simpler job for you today.
Joe: I'm not using a gun again.
Frank: No, no, no guns.
Joe: What's the job?
Frank: Well, you're going to meet a man and arrange a purchase for me.
Joe: Why me?
Frank: Well, there are several reasons. First: you cannot be connected with me in any way. Two: you are now not only a fugitive, but a murderer. And three: I have your gun, which even an amateur ballistics man could match with the bullet that killed Lieutenant Malcolm. So you see, you are the perfect go-between.
Joe: Hm. Who do I meet?
Frank: His name is, um... Mr. Green.
[shows Joe a slip of paper]
Frank: That's the address. And you'll, uh...
[pulls out a pair of car keys]
Frank: ... use the blue sedan out in front. You will tell Mr. Green... the offer is three million.
Joe: Three million? That sounds like pure H. There's no way that much stuff could be brought in these days. Not after that bust. There's just too much security.
Frank: [chuckles] You know, you're right. It's not being brought in, it's already here. Now you can leave.
Joe: What do I get out of all this?
Frank: [slides Joe the address card] What you need... wherever you need it.

Lt. Art Malcolm: [he and Joe enter on Roarke and his attorney in Roarke's hospital room] I suppose you instructed your client not to talk?
Roarke's: That would depend on what you wanted to discuss, Lieutenant. I won't permit him to incriminate himself, no.
Joe: He won't have to. He killed a police officer in cold blood.
Roarke's: You don't think he had the right to defend himself?
Lt. Art Malcolm: That's your plea, self-defense? That's a little far out, isn't it?
Roarke's: Why is that? Mr. Roarke went to Mr. Mannix's office to chat about the circumstance of their last meeting. The door was opened by an officer who immediately drew his gun.
Joe: It was still in his holster after the shooting.
Roarke's: There was nobody present to see you put it back in the officer's holster after the shooting.
Victor: Only me. I saw that.
Joe: Save it for the jury, Roarke. You're gonna need all the defense you can get.
Lt. Art Malcolm: Hold it, Joe. You sent word down that you were ready to talk. So far, I haven't heard anything worth the elevator ride. You change your mind?
Roarke's: What's all that about? You didn't tell me.
Victor: Cool it. I want to make a deal.
Lt. Art Malcolm: No deals.
Victor: Oh, sure. Yeah, sure. I understand, Lieutenant, you're lily white, but juries are paid to listen. And don't you forget where you heard what I'm going to tell you.
Roarke's: Look, I don't know what you're getting at, but shut up.
Victor: There was a judge that disappeared about a year ago. Remember?
Joe: Judge Bishop?
Victor: Yeah, that's the one.
Lt. Art Malcolm: Yeah. What about him?
Victor: I know where he's buried.
Roarke's: You must be out of your mind. You want to be charged with that, too?
Victor: I wasn't even around at the time. A friend of mine told me. No names, Lieutenant, or I'm a dead man.
Roarke's: Victor, listen, you're confessing to withholding evidence.
Victor: Sure. But maybe I'll buy a little consideration from the jury. Maybe they'll understand that at the time, I was too scared to talk. So I have this on my conscience, and I want to get it straight.
Roarke's: That's stupid. You're only buying yourself a cell eight feet by ten.
Victor: Lieutenant, do I have to listen to this clown?
Roarke's: I'll answer that for you, Lieutenant. You get yourself another lawyer.
[leaves the room in anger]

Adam: This isn't common knowledge, but a group of my politically influential friends have formed a citizen's committee to back me for candidate for governor.
Joe: And?
Adam: Politics is a dirty business. I want to know what they could use against me.
Joe: Well, you should know what they might be able to use against you.
Adam: Up to a point, but anyone determined to create a scandal can blow up any insignificant incident. I want you to start from scratch, see what you can build up against me.
Joe: A good detective can usually find dirt wherever he digs.
Adam: Perhaps so, but what I want to know what it is and how bad it will be.
Joe: And if I find something?
Adam: Mr. Mannix, my wife's comfort and peace of mind are more important to me than any political office. If she can be hurt by something that smears me, I won't walk away from the nomination, I'll run.

Joe: Hello, Moose.
Rasmussen: [Lifts his sunglasses] Mannix! How ya doin', dad?
Joe: I thought you gave this all up to become a flower child.
Rasmussen: Oh, I did, I did, but I gotta work to be able to afford to do nothing, dig?

Joe: Well, uh, my secretary tells me your husband has disappeared.
Marcia: Yes. I don't really know where to begin.
Joe: Where do you live?
Marcia: We live in Cleveland. My husband's head of Darrel Inman Incorporated. They make optical equipment- Binoculars, telescopes, microscopes, things of that sort. He came out here just over a week ago to inspect the L.A. office. He was only supposed to be gone 48 hours.
Joe: Uh, did he call you at all?
Marcia: No. He's usually very considerate about letting me know where he is. But this time, when I didn't hear from him, I thought he just got wrapped up in the local problems. When I phoned the hotel, they said he checked out after two days, exactly as planned.
Joe: So, uh, he's been out of touch for about five days.
[Marcia nods]
Joe: Does the local office in Los Angeles have any idea where he might be?
Marcia: [shakes her head] Phillip Lomax- he's the manager- he says as far as he knows, Darrel intended to go straight back to Cleveland.
Joe: Mrs. Inman, have you been to the police?
Marcia: No. No, I haven't. You see, uh...
[takes out a picture from her purse]
Marcia: I found this in my husband's desk.
[hands the picture to Joe]
Marcia: I thought if he's involved, the less publicity, the better.
Joe: [looks at the photo and sees a woman sitting in a chair] Do you know who she is?
Marcia: No. Whenever Darrel gets involved, I try to pretend it simply isn't happening. Normally, I wouldn't have done anything about it, but since he's missing, it's the only clue I have.
Joe: Hmm. Do you have a picture of your husband?
Marcia: Not with me, but I have sent for one.
Joe: Can you describe him for me?
Marcia: Well, he's... he's about your height, dark brown hair, medium build. His eyes are... His eyes are very sensitive to the light. He wears tinted glasses.
Joe: Well, that ought to do it for a start. I'll go to work on it. Where can I reach you?
Marcia: At the Fieldmont. We always stay there.
Joe: All right, if I come up with anything, I'll give you a call.
Marcia: Thank you, Mr. Mannix.

Conforti: All right, Mr. Mannix, what can I tell you about Victor Brady?
Joe: Just looking around here, I'd say you're a pretty good judge of the value of things.
Conforti: Why don't you say what's on your mind and save us both time?
Joe: For instance, you knew that Victor Brady was more valuable dead than alive, maybe.
Conforti: You know, whenever one of our more important patrons meets with a fatal misfortune, it's naturally assumed that we somehow manipulated his fate. It's a very unfair stereotype, believe me.
Joe: Please, please. Spare me the violins. Victor Brady was your loser of the month, wasn't he?
Conforti: The best reason I know of to want him alive and well.
Joe: Unless you also knew he was broke.
Conforti: I had no idea. Oh, well, we both know that gambling debts are not collectable.
Joe: Aren't they?
Conforti: Not even weight lifters use muscle anymore.
Joe: Well, Mrs. Brady will be very comforted to hear that. You know, extortion on this scale could cost somebody about 20 years. It sure would be a shame to waste this bodybuilding program.
Conforti: Look, Mannix, I've got a lot of live ones out there to worry about. So, if you came here to lean on me... you did.
Joe: Oh, not lean. Learn.
Conforti: [opens the door leading to the hallway outside his office] School's out. Careful going home.

Floyd: [Tucking in Toby] Another O.J. Simpson.
Peggy: I see him more like a Senator Brooke.
Floyd: Well, in either case I'll vote for him.

Joe: Well, it's all set. You got a seat on the 11:00 flight. I'll drive you to the airport. Something tells me you're not going to get much more in there.
Marie: Something tells me you're going to have to close it.
Joe: Say when.
Marie: [sighs] I think that's everything. Ah, my book.
[notices a picture of her and Barbara and looks at it]
Joe: What is it, Marie?
Marie: This was taken a week ago, the day Barbara and I arrived.
[gives the picture to Mannix]
Marie: I guess it's the last picture ever taken of her.
Joe: With your ski outfits on, it's pretty hard to tell you apart.
Marie: Dark glasses don't help much, either.
Joe: If it wasn't for your yellow outfit, I'd...
Marie: No, you've got it wrong. Barabara's the one in yellow. I'm in the blue.
Joe: But you were wearing yellow yesterday.
Marie: Yes. That's my new outfit. I bought it the night before last in the ski shop.
[points at the yellow outfit on the picture]
Marie: This one here is my old outfit. You've never seen me in it.
Joe: Let me get this straight- now all week until yesterday, you were going around in a blue outfit?
Marie: Mm-hmm.
Joe: And Barbara- what color outfit was she wearing all week?
Marie: Yellow. But then yesterday morning, she switched, too, because the zipper broke in her jacket. Naturally, since I wasn't using my blue suit, I insisted she...
[realizes what Joe is thinking]
Marie: She was wearing my suit when...
Joe: Marie, now you and Barbara skied Shinbone most afternoons, didn't you?
Marie: [nods] Every afternoon.
Joe: At a particular time?
Marie: Somewhere around 2:00. That was our ritual. We'd hit Shinbone and then head for the showers.
[suddenly on the edge of crying]
Marie: Joe, don't! You're only making it harder. Stop trying to prove that something vicious happened to her. I told you she didn't have an enemy in the world.
Joe: What she did have was a blue ski outfit that you'd been seen in constantly. I wonder if that's why they grabbed her.
Marie: "They"? Who's they?
Joe: Whoever was waiting on Shinbone yesterday afternoon... for you.
Marie: For me?
[scoffs]
Marie: Who'd want to kill me?
Joe: Maybe they only intended to kidnap you.
Marie: What for? Ransom? My father's a college professor. The most he could scrape together would be a few thousand dollars.
Joe: Marie, you don't believe Barbara was going go ski Jackboot, either, do you?
Marie: No. I find that hard to accept.
Joe: Yet she was found some 100 yards or more east of Shinbone. How? She was dragged there and dropped because they realized that they had made a mistake and grabbed the wrong girl. At that point, they couldn't turn her loose, so they killed her and made it look like an accident.
Marie: So they'd be free to come after me.
Joe: Look, I'm going to see that you get home safely. I'm going to drive you to your door. When we get back to Los Angeles, I can arrange for protection until we find out who and why.
Marie: I'll get my ski gear together.
Joe: I'm going to pack my car and come back and pick you up. Lock this door. And don't open it for anyone but me.
[walks out the door as Marie locks it behind him]

Joe: Please, sit down.
Gwen: Thank you. First, I'd like to make sure of something. The report you filed with the sheriff about seeing something on the terrace. You haven't changed your mind, have you?
Joe: No.
Gwen: Are you absolutely positive you saw them?
Joe: Positive.
Gwen: I was hoping you would say that. Mr. Mannix, we would like to hire you.
Joe: We?
Gwen: My brother and I. He's been getting a little better lately.
Joe: I'm glad to hear that. Why do you want to hire me?
Gwen: I think Chris is in danger.
Joe: Because the two men who killed his wife are still walking around somewhere?
Gwen: Yes. And they know Chris saw them. The way Chris has been, they haven't had to worry about being identified. But if they find out his mind is beginning to come back... As a matter of fact, he's being released tomorrow. Ted Hanlon, who's been taking care of him at the sanitarium, is going to stay with him until he can manage on his own.

Danny: Listen, Mannix, don't think I don't feel bad about what happened to Charlie. Funny men bleed, too, you know? Wish there was something I could do. Sam, are you gonna let the man sit there? Ask the man to sit down.
Sam: Sure, won't you sit down, Mr. Mannix?
Danny: See if the man wants a drink.
Sam: Would you like a drink, Mr. Mannix?
Greg: Dad, I'll do that.
Sam: If I want your help, I'll ask you for it! What'll you have?
Joe: Nothing, thank you. There is something you can do for me, Danny.
Danny: Yeah.
Joe: Tell me what Charlie Frome was working on.
Danny: Now that's confidential. You know that. Now if you could use some money. You know, funeral expenses.
Joe: All I want is information.
Sam: Look, you heard what the man said. It's confidential.
Danny: Sam, stop shooting off your mouth. The man wants some information. Okay, that confidential it's not. Charlie was trying to track down an old hoofer I used to know. Who'd think he'd meet me with an accident?
Joe: It wasn't an accident.
Sam: They said it was hit and run.
Joe: Whoever was driving that car meant to hit Charlie.
Danny: Now hold it, Mannix, just hold it. You trying to tie me into something?
Joe: All I'm trying to say is that Charlie Frome was killed purposely and yours seems to be the only case he was working on. It's as simple as that.
Danny: I TOLD YOU! You don't listen, do you? Charlie was trying to track down an old broken down hoofer I used to know. Why would anybody want to kill him for that?
Joe: Well, when you're looking for people, things happen. Oh, uh... by the way, who is that hoofer?
Danny: A guy by the name of Harry Henderson.
Sam: Well, look, Mr. Mannix, you know, if the papers get ahold of a story like this, and with Danny's name...
Danny: Sam's right. Why don't you just let it cool off, huh? I mean there's nothing we can do for Charlie now. Unless a couple of hundred.
Joe: [sarcastically] Now that's funny, Danny. That's really funny. You ought to keep it in the act.

Eddie: The Bedford heist.
Joe: The Bedford heist.
Eddie: Oh, are you kidding? Somebody's putting you on, Mannix.
Joe: That's right, Richter, my sources put me right on to you.
Eddie: Well, you should double-check your sources. I wouldn't touch a stone of the Bedford heist.
Joe: Now, look, Richter, they grabbed a briefcase in that heist. That's all I'm after.
Eddie: I ain't got money to pay the phone bill. You could retire on what I owe in back taxes. How could I possibly handle a... a deal like the Bedford?
Joe: Okay, Richter, we'll let it ride. Uh, listen, Eddie... if they should just happen to contact you, and if you should happen to change your mind about fencing the jewels... tell the boys I'm only after the briefcase. And I'm paying for its return.

Lew: Now we start using the computers. Someday, you'll realize that ten minutes in here will save you two days in the field.
Joe: I just saved you ten minutes. A little man called me. Y'know, let me tell you something, Lew. One of these days, I'm gonna open an agency of my own and I'm gonna make cardboard mockups of all of these monsters
[refers to the Intertect computers]
Joe: , then I'm gonna get me a bright little man and stick him inside and I'll just bet you that I'll get better answers from him than you'll ever get from all of these.

Joe: [Mark Prentiss enters Mannix's office] Mr. Prentiss.
Mark: Mr. Mannix. Can we, uh, get right to the point?
Joe: Of course. Please sit down.
Mark: Thank you. I use the safe deposit vault at the Bedford Hotel. And last night, that vault was broken into.
Joe: Yes, I was just reading about it. They got away with about $150,000 in jewelry, a hunk of cash, bonds...
Mark: And a briefcase.
Joe: A briefcase?
Mark: Mine, as it happens. Recover by Tuesday, Mr. Mannix, and I'll write you a check for $5,000.
Joe: That's some briefcase. What was in it?
Mark: Papers, depositions... to be used as evidence in a murder trial. Useless to anyone else, but absolutely essential to me, if I'm to free my client. I must have them back.
Joe: Now, who's your client?
Mark: Vince Adante.
Joe: Yeah. Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Prentiss, but suddenly I don't like the smell of your briefcase.
Mark: Adante is innocent.
Joe: Vince Adante doesn't know what the word means.
Mark: Mr. Mannix, my client is facing a 20-year sentence. Suppose a year from now, two years, five- that missing evidence turns up? How responsible would you fell for Adante's false conviction? The law judges a man's guilt on a particular charge. It acquits a man on the basis of evidence, and that evidence was in my briefcase in my safe deposit box at the Bedford Hotel, and I must have that briefcase back. It is worth $5,000 to me.
Joe: But not to me. Now I have a great deal of respect for you, counselor, but I don't like Vince Adante, guilty or innocent. Now, you'd be wasting your money. Besides, that briefcase is probably in a sewer by now.
Mark: All right, Mr. Mannix... find me that sewer.

Lt. Art Malcolm: [interrogating Overkill in his office] You're entitled to have an attorney present. You do understand that?
Overkill: I'm... my own attorney.
Paul: I don't think he understands. I have an attorney standing by. Good man. I'll call him.
Overkill: [slams his hands over the phone on Art's desk] I DON'T WANT YOUR GOOD MAN! YOU'VE ALREADY DOUBLE-CROSSED ME ONCE!
Paul: I'm trying to help you.
Overkill: That why you had those calls traced. I knew what you were doing. The minute I left those phone booths... the police had arrived.
Paul: The first words I ever heard you say were "stop me." I thought you meant them.
Overkill: All right. Let's call in a secretary. I want to dictate a full confession.
Lt. Art Malcolm: We aren't quite ready for that yet. There are some details we have to straighten out first. Such as your name.
Overkill: You know who I am.
Paul: He means your real name. We can't keep calling you Overkill.
Overkill: Why not?
Lt. Art Malcolm: It's important that we establish your real identity. Now, do you want to tell us your name?
Overkill: It's one of those things I got stuck with. John A. Lambert.
Lt. Art Malcolm: What's your address, John?
Overkill: 1214 Greenlee, Apartment B.
Lt. Art Malcolm: Are you employed?
Overkill: WHAT'S THAT GOT TO DO WITH IT? I KILLED SEVEN PEOPLE! SEVEN PEOPLE!
[pauses]
Overkill: When are you going to get to that, huh?
Joe: You mean eight, don't you? Including the night watchman last night?
Overkill: Night watchman? I get confused sometimes.
Joe: Why? Why did you kill him?
Overkill: I don't know. I don't know why I... killed any of those people.

Holly: [the penultimate scene after police have departed with the arrested parties allowing Mannix and Holly to feel each other out] Wanna buy a half share in a boat?
Joe: I don't think I could afford the interest.
Holly: No interest required... except in me.
[Katherine Justice delivers the line with a warm, engaging smile and her blouse fetchingly unbuttoned to her naval]

Joe: You didn't invent the generation gap.
Jason: But I have to build a bridge over it somehow.

Peggy: Look, I have a son. He needs me. He's only 10 years old.
Lonnie: I grew up by myself. He'll get by. What does he want to be when he grows up?
Peggy: A boy with a mother.
Lonnie: Don't we all.

Joan: You really on a case? Or you just saying that to get next to me?
Joe: I'm really on a case.
[they kiss]
Joan: How was that?
Joe: Unexpected.
Joan: That the best you can do?
Joe: Well, I, uh, came here hoping to talk, ask questions.
Joan: All right. Start pitching 'em to me, nice and easy.
Joe: You remember a fella named Boyd Wilkins?
Joan: Now you're getting tacky. Why don't you just blow? I don't like tacky men.
Joe: You stabbed him during a rock festival.
Joan: There were 70,000 witnesses said it was self-defense. He started getting tacky.
Joe: There have been a number of incidents over the past years, not all of them reported to the police.
Joan: Always some dude who didn't know when his time was up.
Joe: Have you, by any chance, read a book by Dr. Clement Jarrud?
Joan: Man, I don't even get time to read my own reviews. Busy, busy, busy.
Joe: You were a patient of Dr. Jarrud's, weren't you?
Joan: Yeah, I been to so many shrinks, they're like a blur you pass on a motorcycle.
Joe: This particular doctor became a real blur by taking a bullet in the temple.
Joan: I know just how he felt. Boom, and it's all over.
Joe: You do remember him?
Joan: You sure he's dead? Or did he send you here to shake me down?
Joe: Is that what you were afraid of?
Joan: No.
Joe: You're "Patient Y" in Dr. Jarrud's book, aren't you? Brilliant entertainer, self-destructive, jealous, possessive. Sometimes striking out murderously at someone who didn't return her love.
Joan: Baby, you've got to be kiddin'. I ain't never had to beg for a man I wanted. Maybe... had some... other little confusions. Guess I needed ol' Clem to... get my head together.
Joe: But, uh, after a while, you started digging him?
Joan: Other way around. Wouldn't be the first time some dude fell in love with me.
Joe: Are you saying you were having an affair with Dr. Jarrud?
Joan: That so tough to believe?
Joe: Well, I heard that he was in love with someone else.
Joan: Never. He dug *me*.
Joe: Joan, he only saw you as a patient, not as a woman.
Joan: He loved me. Say he loved me. Say it.
Joe: What happened that evening he was killed? Did he tell you it was hopeless? Were you there that evening?
Joan: You think I remember? I could have been anywhere. It was centuries ago. Oh, Clem... what'll I do now?
Joe: [softly] Joan... I'm sorry. Maybe some other time.
Joan: Wait. Don't go. Please don't leave me alone. Don't leave me alone in the dark. Stay with me till the boys get back. Please? Daddy, don't lock me in the closet. Don't whip me. Oh, Clem, protect me. Please don't leave me alone in the dark. What are you still doing here? I can handle it. Go on, get out. Go on, beat it!

Little: [Joe enters his tent] Can I help you, brother?
Joe: Yes, I called you. I'm investigating the death of two of the survivors of that airplane crash.
Little: Oh, Mr. Mannix. Have a seat. Would like some tea?
Joe: No thank you.
Little: Human nature is frail. On the mountain, my brothers and sisters made a bargain with the Lord. He kept his part of the deal. Did they?
Joe: You tell me.
Little: They did not! When he was saved, the judge tried to resume his life of carnality.
Joe: How do you know that?
Little: The Lord, in his infinite wisdom, shows his children the truth. And the pilot, John Clive, he resumed his drunkenness.
Joe: You have been busy.
Little: I do his work.
Joe: He said, "Thou shalt not kill."
Little: Whoever killed them was an instrument of the Lord.
Joe: Did you keep your part of the bargain?
Little: I have, brother. On the mountain, the Lord helped me through the agony of withdrawal. I will never touch drugs again.
Joe: What about your nurse?
Little: Sister Lylah? She, too, has regressed to the ways of sin. She accepted employment with another invalid. A lady. A very old, very rich lady. She was plucked from the jaws of death. Now she feels she can live without the help of the Lord. They all do. And that is the most horrendous sin.
Joe: Where can I find sister Lylah?
Little: At the Clarendon in Culver City.
Joe: Well, uh, thank you.
[gets up from his seat to leave]
Little: Brother Mannix?
[Joe stops and looks at Little Ned]
Little: Tell her it's not too late. Tell them all... it's not too late.
[Joe nods and exits Little Ned's tent]

Joe: [sees Vic Stanley walk out of a bedroom in Ellen's broken-in apartment] Hold it!
Ellen: Vic!
Vic: Ellen, who is this guy?
Ellen: It's all right, Vic. Mr. Mannix is a private investigator.
Vic: What's he investigating?
Joe: Among other things, how you got into this house.
Vic: The door was open when I got here.
Joe: When was that?
Vic: Just a few minutes ago. When Ellen didn't answer, I got worried and came in to see if she was all right. Look, I could use a drink. Anyone joining me?
Ellen: Mr. Mannix?
Joe: No thanks.
Ellen: Vic's the best friend I have. A very good friend.
Joe: Then you won't mind answering a few questions.
Vic: About what?
Joe: Mart Gray. How well did you know him?
Vic: About as well as any man alive, I guess. Mart and I flew together in Vietnam. We both got out of the Air Force about the same time. Mart went to Hong Kong. I came home.
Joe: Why did he choose Hong Kong?
Vic: He had some business offers, I believe.
Joe: What kind of offers?
Vic: He never talked about them.
Ellen: Mr. Stanley came to Hong Kong and took care of all the arrangements for me. The police reports, immigration, everything. I'd have been lost without him.
Joe: Did you know that Mart was in trouble?
Vic: Not until Ellen told me. It really shook me up, too. I mean, Mart was always a patsy for the easy buck, but... well, I never thought he'd pull anything crooked.
Joe: What makes you think it was crooked.
Vic: Oh, come on, Mannix, what else could it be?
Joe: Did you mention that to the Hong Kong police?
Vic: Well... no, I never got around to it, but I...
Joe: Your friend committed suicide, his wife is followed and probably in danger, and you never got around to mentioning it?
Vic: Now, look, Mannix. You're really jumping...
Ellen: Look!
[sees a man who was stalking her in Hong Kong, who flees. Mannix and Stanley chase after him]

Harry: Hey, you look great. How do you keep so trim?
Joe: I get shot at a lot.

Skip: [walks up to Joe who's looking around his lot] Skip Seldon's the name, friend. I'm here for one reason, and one reason only - to make you a happy and contented man. Now, what kind of car are you interested in?
Joe: Well, I'm looking for a 1972 Plymouth sedan, license number, uh, 949EJC. It's got a dent in the trunk about the size of a baseball.
Skip: [chuckles] What are you, a cop?
Joe: Private. The name is Mannix.
Skip: Yeah? Now what is it about a Plymouth sedan?
Joe: Well, it was involved in a minor traffic accident about 10:30 this morning. It's registered to your outfit.
Skip: So?
Joe: I'd like to take a look at it if it's back on the lot.
Skip: Sure, why not? You know, we carry full insurance.
[leads Joe to the car, and Joe examines the exterior and interior of it]
Joe: Nice, clean car.
Skip: Oh, yeah, that's one of the services that our customers appreciate.
Joe: Who had it out this morning?
Skip: Mr. Mannix, this is a busy lot. I'd have to look that up.
Joe: If it's not too much trouble.
[they walk to Seldon's office]
Skip: All right, let's have a look.
[looks through the papers]
Skip: Yeah, here we are - 949EJC. Wait a minute, there's gotta be a mistake, Mannix. This, uh, baby hasn't been off the lot in almost a week. Here, look for yourself.
[hands Joe the records]
Skip: Last customer brought that back six days ago.
Joe: Maybe you'd like to tell me how it could have banged into my client's car four hours ago?
Skip: Sip of beer?
Joe: Don't try telling me I got the license number wrong.
Skip: You know, I bet it was a freebie. You know what I mean? A guy walks on the lot. He sees the keys in the car, and he borrows it for a couple of hours. Then he brings it back and leaves it by the curb. You know, you'd be amazed at how many times that happens on a lot this size.
Joe: Except this one is sitting in the middle of the lot.
Skip: Well, that doesn't make any difference. These cars get jockeyed around the lot all day long. Well, sorry I couldn't be more help.
Joe: Oh, you did fine, Skip, just fine.

Joe: He was with a girl.
Ellen: You mean Barbara Stoner?
Joe: You knew?
Ellen: She was the last in a long, long line. Roger was a brilliant man with lots of wonderful qualities, but fidelity wasn't one of them.

Joe: Why would she want to kill him?
Gerda: I didn't say she would, but she had a boyfriend. An intern... Dana... something or other.
Joe: Where do I find him?
Gerda: In whatever special purgatory is reserved for jealous lovers.

Lt. Art Malcolm: I don't know how they missed you.
Joe: I live right.

Mr. Bryant: [Joe enters Mr. Bryant's garage] Yes, sir, can I help you?
Joe: Maybe. My name is Joe Mannix. I'm a private investigator.
Mr. Bryant: Something wrong?
Joe: Well, I'm looking for a Lee Thomas.
Mr. Bryant: So am I. He's gone.
Joe: When was the last time you saw him?
Mr. Bryant: Oh, 4:00 yesterday afternoon. He left for the park. Crazy about baseball. He manages a kid's team.
Joe: What else can you tell me about him?
Mr. Bryant: Why? Is he in trouble?
Joe: I won't really know until I find him.
Mr. Bryant: Well, I can't really tell you much, Mr. Mannix. He's pleasant, but kind of quiet, and he never talked much about himself.
Joe: How long has he worked for you?
Mr. Bryant: Oh, seven or eight months. Good mechanic, great hands.
Joe: Any idea where he's from?
Mr. Bryant: No. But he never gave me a minute's trouble. He did his work, never watched a clock. I can't pay him what he's worth, but I let him sleep upstairs. There's a room and bath up there.
Joe: Did he have a girlfriend?
Mr. Bryant: [thinks for a second] Uh, not that I know of.
Joe: I wonder if I might borrow a wrench or some tool that might have his fingerprints on it.
Mr. Bryant: Why?
Joe: Well, Lee Thomas didn't exist up until eight months ago. That's when they issued his Social Security number.
Mr. Bryant: You figured he changed his name, huh?
Joe: It looks that way. Well, if his prints are on file, we'll find him, and if I can put a name to him, maybe I can help him.
Mr. Bryant: Well, his toolbox is over there on the bench.
Joe: [walks over to the tool box] This one?
Mr. Bryant: Yeah, that's the one.
[Joe opens the box and looks inside, he then takes out his handkerchief and pulls out a wrech]

Joe: Oh, uh, Mrs. Walker, please sit down.
Cathy: Mr. Mannix, I know you didn't want to see me. I'll only take a minute.
Joe: Well, I'm supposed to be in the business of helping people, and when I can't see a way to do that, I just think it's a waste of time and money.
Cathy: But you can help.
Joe: I don't know how. You were there. Your husband had a gun in his hand. You saw him standing in front of Victor De Marco's body. You saw him run.
Cathy: Yes.
Joe: Can you think of a reason your husband would want to kill De Marco?
Cathy: No.
Joe: You're sure?
Cathy: Mr. Mannix, my only concern is what's going to happen now. The police will kill Steve. He'll force them to. I know him. He'd rather die than let himself be locked up.
Joe: What do you think I can do, Mrs. Walker?
Cathy: Find him before the police do, and make him turn himself in.
Joe: Well, do you think he'd listen?
Cathy: He has to. He's been shot, he needs a doctor. I don't care what Steve has done, Mr. Mannix. I love him. And I want him alive. That's the main thing. That's the only thing.
Joe: All right, Mrs. Walker, I'll see what I can do. You know that if, uh, you hear from your husband, you'll have to notify the police.
Cathy: Yes, Lieutenant Malcolm told me.
Joe: Did he also tell you that he'll have no trouble getting a court order to put a tap on your phone?
Cathy: Yes.
Joe: Good. It helps all around if you stick to the rules.
Cathy: Thank you, Mr. Mannix.

Luke: [after saving Joe from a rattlesnake] Man, you're getting to be a real nuisance.
Joe: Thanks.
Luke: It's the least I could do... with your gun.
Joe: My gun in exchange for the compass and canteen.
Luke: Sooner or later, everybody gets cheated.
Joe: My turn, right?
Luke: Look on the bright side, now it's behind you.
Joe: Why all this hide-and-seek?
Luke: I checked your wallet after I patched you up, Mannix. Your line of work and my uniform doesn't exactly make lasting relationships.
Joe: I don't suppose they just let you walk out.
Luke: Oh, no, that's against the rules.
[referring to the canteen Joe has]
Luke: Anything left in that?
[Joe hands Luke the canteen]
Joe: A man on the run...
Luke: [hears rustling sounds] Hold it.
[the rustling sounds stop]
Luke: Thought I heard something. Probably a deer.
[drinks from the canteen]
Joe: As I was saying, a man on the run doesn't usually stop to help someone.
Luke: Look, that plane almost came down on me. I fixed your arm a little. Big deal.
Joe: That's not all. The canteen, the compass, arrow. Why?
Luke: I was raised in the mountains. I figured you for a city dude. You needed 'em more than I did.
Joe: Yeah.
[gets up]
Luke: [aims Joe's gun at him] Easy.
Joe: You, uh, figure I get the chance, I'll give you trouble.
Luke: Will you?
Joe: No. But if I change my mind, I'll let you know.
Luke: [chuckles] Okay. Look, we're not doing any good around here. Can you travel?
Joe: Yeah.
Luke: Let's go.
[they start to walk]
Joe: Being that you know my name... maybe I ought to know yours.
Luke: Lucas Whitney. Most folks call me Luke.
Joe: Well, thanks for all your help, Luke.
Luke: Mannix, I'm not sure I helped you at all. Maybe just the opposite. Anyone seen talking to me could get himself killed.

Joe: Well, I'm not sure I said good morning. Good morning.
Lorna: Coffee?
Joe: Black.
[looks around Lorna's patio and backyard]
Joe: Oh. Well, well. This is very nice.
Lorna: He'll be glad to hear that.
Joe: Who?
Lorna: The man who pays the rent
Joe: Who's he?
Lorna: You'll meet him. You're still not the type.
Joe: Well, let me tell you something. I can take it or leave it alone.
Lorna: That's not what it says in the paper.
[Joe looks at the newspaper with the headline, "POLICE LIEUTENANT MURDERED.", showing Art Malcolm's picture]

[Mannix meets with his boss and friend Lew Wickersham in Wickersham's office]
Lew: [holds wristwatch in his hand] Three days and fifty-five minutes late.
Joe: I, uh, broke the Ashland case.
Lew: Uh-huh.
Joe: Didn't do my hand any good, either.
Lew: You broke the man's jaw. Did ya have to slug him?
Joe: It seemed like a pretty good idea, at the time.

Joe: [Interrupting the illicit lovers] What's this, love at the zoo?

Floyd: But baby, it's us against them.
Peggy: It's not a question of black or white, it's a question of right or wrong.

Executive: [Joe is about to enter an office in the police station] Mr. Mannix? I really, really wouldn't. You're being watched.

Roscoe: If anyone wants me dead, all they have to do is just patiently wait.

Peggy: It could be a trap, Joe.
Joe: Yeah, I know. Right now it's the only trap in town.

Joe: Mr. Blake.
Carl: Please excuse me for not shaking hands. Come in. Come in. Can I fix you a drink?
Joe: No thank you.
[referring to his gun collection stacked up all over the walls]
Joe: Say, this is quite a collection.
Carl: This is only part of it. There's more in my workshop. You know, I keep telling myself this is only a hobby. But, frankly, I think I'm a frustrated gunsmith. Please sit down.
[referring to the rifle in his hand]
Carl: This model here I rebuilt almost totally. But for some reason, the locking lugs seem a bit stiff. But then you're here to talk about Tom. I'm anxious to help.
Joe: Mr. Blake, what was your initial reaction when you heard the news about Mr. Farnon?
Carl: I couldn't believe it.
Joe: Do you now?
Carl: No. No, I don't think Tom is capable of murder.
Joe: How long have you known him?
Carl: Hmm, 15 years at least. We've been partners for eleven. I know him, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Mr. Blake, were you aware that Farnon believed his wife was having an affair?
Carl: [sighs] Yes, we talked about it. I told him, in my opinion, his suspicions were groundless. Oh, they had rough spots here and there, but what marriage hasn't? Course being a bachelor, I feel I have every right to judge.
Joe: The trouble is, if Farnon's story is true, then his wife was unfaithful and there was another man. We can't have it both ways.
Carl: I'm afraid you're right.
Joe: Is Farnon handy with guns?
Carl: Tom? Hardly. I tried for years to get him interested in guns. I even gave him a hunting rifle as a present. He gave it back. Said it made him feel uncomfortable. Why, he couldn't even shoot a rabbit.
Joe: But he did have a .38.
Carl: [sees a reflection of a man hiding behind a tree outside with a gun drawn] Mannix, duck!
[Blake shoots the man outside. Joe takes out his gun, and he and Blake go outside to look at the man]
Joe: [checks the man's pulse] He's dead.
[a car is heard driving away. Joe looks and sees it's a yellow sports car]

Floyd: If you don't like men who take chances, why do you work for a guy like Mannix?
Peggy: Because I'm kind of a nut.

Dottie: It's a terrible responsible secret, so you'll have to swear and cross your heart.
Joe: Oh.
[makes a crossing notion with hands]
Joe: I swear.
[Peggy does the same]
Dottie: I guess I can tell the rest of it to you, then. They're gonna kill him. They're gonna murder him. In a parade.
Helen: Dorothy, what parade? You didn't say anything about a parade.
Dottie: Oh, I just put that in. It was the way they killed Mr. Muffins.
Joe: Mr. Muffins?
Helen: In, uh, a comic strip.
Dottie: There was a big band, and Mr. Muffins was in an ostrich costume, and just as the band started, they shot him, which is why nobody heard the gun-- on account of trombones. It was pretty slick, all right.
Helen: [sighs] I'm sorry, Mr. Mannix. Sometimes her mind sort of runs over a little.
Joe: All right, Dottie.
[hands Dottie a microphone]
Joe: Now, I want you to talk into this. I want you to tell me exactly what you heard the men say in the booth-- nothing more. Nothing but the exact words. If you can remember them, okay?
Dottie: Yes.
Joe: Wait a minute.
[turns on the recorder]
Joe: Okay.
Dottie: He said...
Joe: Who?
Dottie: The taller one, thin. With kind of red hair. He said, "When does he knock him off?" Then I couldn't hear the words on account of the noise from the movie machine. And then he was saying, "He wants to make it day after tomorrow, if we can set it up." And then I couldn't hear. And then he said, "What?"
Joe: The redhead?
Dottie: Mm-hmm. Then the other one said, "Having the police working with us on this one." And they laughed. And that's when they must have saw me. And I ran.
Joe: Hmm. Someone in the police force a party to murder?
Helen: I know she's very imaginative, and she's crazy about crime stories. But you must believe me, I know when she's telling the truth.
Joe: All right, Dottie, very good. You know something? Peggy here keeps candy in her file, under "C". Would you like some?
Dottie: Sure.
Peggy: Come along, Dottie.
Dottie: Okay. But that's what they said, honest.
Helen: We live just a little way from that theater, and those men saw her. They'll be looking for her. She's all I have. I'm scared. She's only a little girl. I'm scared to death.

Inspector: Look, I am the one friend that you have on this island. You'd better tell me the truth.
Joe: You don't believe me?
Inspector: How can I believe you? You were found here with the gloves on, with... with a warm rifle beside you. How do you expect me to believe you?
Joe: Inspector... I didn't do it.
Inspector: You give me the lead on the people that you're working for - the left, the right, the army, students, the government, I don't care. But just tell me the truth.
Joe: Victor Valdek is the man you want!
Inspector: Victor Valdek is dead, and we both know that. It's the firing squad for you, friend, and maybe tomorrow at dawn. Now you think about that. And without the benefit of a trial. No one will be able to fix it for you! Not even your own people in Washington.
Joe: I've told you the truth. Now get Major Muller to talk, or get Adrianna Medova.
Inspector: Give me their names. Tell me the truth.
Joe: I've told you everything I know. COUNT BORIA engineered the killing. Valdek was the assassin.
Inspector: Luis... get the men back here. I'm tired of talking to this assassin.
[Joe runs past Luis and Vargas and flees]

Jackson: [talking into Joe's desk phone] Jackson here. Give me Red.
Makuta: [after searching through the office] I'll check upstairs.
Jackson: Hey, Red, we're out. And we found the place. 17 Paseo Verde. Pick us up as soon as it's done. No, man, we'll be fine as silk.
[hangs up the phone]
Jackson: All set.
Clay: Oh, that's cool. All we have to do now is... kill some time.
Makuta: [returning from upstairs with a beer bottle and some glasses] Look what I found.
Jackson: Beautiful.
[Makuta pours everyone a glass]
Jackson: Peace and quiet.
Peggy: Three cons on the run.
Clay: Come on now, we're tourists. Here today, gone tomorrow. Just looking at the sights.
[to Celia]
Clay: What's your name, honey?
[touches Celia's chin. Celia slaps him. He grabs her arm and Joe reacts]
Jackson: Relax, investigator.
Clay: Only trouble today is that there's not enough love in this world.
Celia: Don't touch me.
Jackson: Clay? Clay! Knock it off. All of you, relax. You won't get hurt. We just want a place to stay.
Makuta: And, uh, maybe some bread. Yes?
Jackson: Yeah, we could use some traveling dough.
Clay: Oh, uh, you don't mind to give sweets?
[Joe gives him some money from his pocket]
Makuta: Where's the loot? Well, maybe a house to house search will...
Peggy: Outside on the desk! But it won't get you to Long Beach!
[Makuta goes to front desk and searches it]
Clay: 22 bucks.
Jackson: 40-some. Where's the office safe?
Joe: We don't have one.
Makuta: Okay, black girl, where is it?
Peggy: He just told you we don't have one! Drop dead!
[Makuta grabs Peggy, Joe punches him, and Makuta draws his gun]
Jackson: [restraining Makuta] MAKUTA!
Joe: Excuse me.
Jackson: Easy, man. Easy. Come on.
[sits back in Joe's chair]
Jackson: Look, there doesn't have to be any trouble. We'll be out of here by the time it's dark. But we need traveling bread.
Joe: I got a check cashed.
Makuta: Sure. At your bank, maybe.
Joe: One of you can come with me.
Jackson: You're full of angles, Mannix. Figure out something that's foolproof.

Sherwin: Beverly North.
Lt. Adam Tobias: Where'd you see her last?
Sherwin: Oh, several months ago. We were very close for a while. Such a lovely girl. I'm not entirely surprised, though. She was very unpredictable. Especially when she drank.
Lt. Adam Tobias: Any particular reason you stopped seeing her, Mr. Caine?
Sherwin: No. It just happened.
Joe: Her idea or yours?
Sherwin: I don't have to talk to him. You know?
Kevin: Look, Lieutenant, if you don't mind, Mr. Caine and I have work to do.
Lt. Adam Tobias: Sure, Mr. Archer.
[Archer nods]
Lt. Adam Tobias: Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Caine. Joe.
Joe: You know, Mr. Archer, you really should do something about the people who work for you.
Kevin: Why? I'm satisfied.
Joe: After those two foul-ups today? And the garage and on the road? You are easy to please. It's the old story, Mr. Archer. If you want something done right, you just have to do it yourself.
[Archer smiles]
Joe: Good night, gentlemen.
[he and Tobias leave]
Sherwin: He's just trying to needle you. He hasn't got anything; nothing at all.
Kevin: No. But he's right. I haven't got one good man. Not one who can find his nose with both hands. There's only one sure way to get rid of Mr. Mannix.
Sherwin: Careful, Kevin. That temper of yours is going to get you into trouble. Just like it did Saturday night.
Kevin: I told you about that. Now, nobody walks out on me. I told her if she got out of that car, it'd be the last thing she ever did.
Sherwin: Well, I don't know. Going after Mannix yourself.
Kevin: Oh, don't be stupid. Just get someone who knows what he's doing.
Sherwin: Hm. In the meantime, Mannix is going to be busy.
Kevin: Yeah. He's contacted everyone except George Bowman. He'll get there sooner or later.

Joe: Dr. Aspinall? My name is Mannix.
Dr. Graham Aspinall: That supposed to mean something to me?
Joe: I'm a private investigator. Your attorney retained me... Noah Otway.
Dr. Graham Aspinall: How did you recognize me?
Joe: Well, I can always tell a surgeon. He's the one with the clean fingernails.
Dr. Graham Aspinall: What does Otway want?
Joe: He wanted me to make some inquiries about the shooting last night.
Dr. Graham Aspinall: Otway is a toothless old woman with an obscene lust for melodrama.
Joe: He thinks highly of you, too.
Dr. Graham Aspinall: Or was it really my wife's idea to hire you? Oh, never mind. I'm content to suffer the pangs of uncertainty.
Joe: You're convinced that shot fired at you last night had nothing to do with you personally?
Dr. Graham Aspinall: I surprise some unfortunate addict who was looking for drugs. I don't believe anyone hates or loves me enough to take a shot at me. That's a disgraceful admission, isn't it?
Joe: Mind if I talk to some of your associates?
Dr. Graham Aspinall: Certainly, I'd mind.
Joe: What are you afraid I'll find out?
Dr. Graham Aspinall: That I'm an arrogant, cantankerous, self-important, greedy, glory-hustling megalomaniac. That I browbeat my subordinates, debauch my female assistants, claim sole credit for anyone's discoveries, and that I would commit any act, from high treason to indecent exposure, to knock off a Nobel Prize.
Joe: And once I found that out, what do I do with it?
Dr. Graham Aspinall: Whatever it is you fellas do. Put on false mustaches, tap phones, dog footsteps, interrogate people in the dead of night, make passes at beautiful female suspects, look down your noses at the police.
Joe: I'll bet I know your favorite author.
Dr. Graham Aspinall: Don't bet on anything concerning me. Good day, Mr. Mannix.

Joe: [escorting Kenny Brooks into his office] Okay, Kenny, now why don't you sit down right there, and we'll have a little talk. Now, just what's the case?
Kenny: I brought $1.85, and I get two more dollars on Saturday.
Joe: Now, wait a minute, uh, let's not worry about my fee until I know what the case is, okay?
Kenny: Okay. I want you to find my stamp book.
Joe: Your stamp book?
Kenny: My Uncle Jimmy gave it to me. He's not actually my uncle, I just call him that because he knew my father. My father's dead. Anyhow, he gave me this stamp book of his, and I lost it. You see, I promised not to take it out of the house.
Joe: But you did?
Kenny: Well... yeah.
Joe: Does your mother know you're hiring me?
Kenny: I told Mom and Uncle Jimmy I was coming to see you.
Joe: Did they say it was all right?
Kenny: Sure, but Uncle Jimmy said forget it. He'd get me another album. But it's my fault. I wanted that stamp book ever since I was a little kid. So he gave it to me last week for my birthday. I broke my promise. I wanted to show it to some of the kids.
Joe: Well, Kenny, uh, maybe it would be easier if you just let your Uncle Jimmy buy you another stamp album.
Kenny: But it's not the same. It's like, you have a dog and lose it, people will get you another dog just because you're crying. They don't understand. It isn't the same dog.
Joe: Yeah, I, uh... guess you're right. When did you have it last?
Kenny: Saturday. We rode our bikes down to the pier. We threw baseballs and watched the merry-go-round, and things like that.
Joe: You think you left it there?
Kenny: Billy Kypur said I put it on the counter at the baseball game. Then he said he saw me leave it on the bench at the merry-go-round.
Joe: But he's not sure?
Kenny: Billy Kypur's never sure.
Joe: Well, why don't I have a look around and I'll get back to you, okay?
Kenny: Thanks, Mr. Mannix. I've already asked a lot of people, but people only pretend they listen to kids. They'll listen to you.
Joe: You just sit tight.
Kenny: [to Peggy as he walks out the door] You see, he wasn't busy at all.

Peggy: But you don't even know if those letters mean anything.
Joe: That's right. That's right. That's right, they could mean anything. They could mean... they could mean a... a city, a town, a place, a code- they could mean- they could mean a sled named "Rosebud."

Joe: Doesn't that bother you, Doctor?
Katrina: The Ice Man? One of his residents calls him the only glacier in southern California.

Ralph: Mr. Mannix? Ralph Stoner.
Joe: How do you do?
Ralph: Mr. Mallory said you were coming down.
Joe: Uh-huh.
Ralph: Well, you look all right. I, uh, read where somebody tried to kill you.
Joe: Well, there's a lot of that going around LA.
Ralph: Yeah. Well, what, uh, what would you like to see first? I was told to give you the VIP treatment. I can take you over the production line or give you a ride in the plane if you like.
Joe: Oh, that'd be fine.
Ralph: Why don't you get in the right side there? Roddy, you want to take a coffee break, and I'll make this test, okay?
Roddy: Right. Well, tanks are full and venting. Controls are free, and she's ready to go.
Ralph: Oh, Roddy, this is Mr. Mannix. This is my assistant, Roddy.
Roddy: Hi there.
Joe: How do you do?
Roddy: Oh, by the way, Cease fixed that aileron you tagged.
Cease: Yeah, I logged it in the files.
Roddy: I'm sure glad you get all the problem flights. See you later.
[Stoner starts the plane and takes off]
Ralph: [talks into a walkie talkie in the plane] San Diego Control, this is Tr2. Request clearance at 4,000 feet to Point Bravo and south VFR to test area.
Controller: Tr2, this is San Diego Control. You are cleared to Point Bravo via direct. Uh, maintain 4,000. Call on 119.3 on departing.
Ralph: It's Tr2, thank you.
[sets the walkie talkie down]
Ralph: Now watch this.
[takes the plane into the air]
Joe: Really rifts right off. It's like driving out of a garage.
Ralph: Yeah, we're hoping to sell a million of these babies.
Joe: Did Chick Noland have anything to do with developing the Tr2?
Ralph: No not really. It was all old man Mallory. I mean, Chuck worked with me testing, and did some, uh, promotional work. I guess they figured a hero is always good for PR.
Joe: Were you and the Nolands very friendly?
Ralph: Well, Chuck and I had a beer every now and then, but that, uh, that was about it.
Joe: Did he ever bring anyone along besides his wife?
Ralph: Now, look, he was married to the boss's daughter. So I-I made it a point not to know about that kind of thing. His private life, I mean.
Joe: Did he ever mention a girl called Joyce?
Ralph: Joyce?
Joe: She may be able to tell us why he was killed.
Ralph: Well, it's like I say, what, uh, what he did off the job was his business. Besides, I've got enough to worry about right here.
Joe: Sure.
Ralph: Now this is the test area. Do you get airsick?
Joe: I try not to. Why?
Ralph: Well, I'm supposed to put her through a few paces here.
Joe: Go ahead.
[Stoner maneuvers the plane to go upside down and do loops]
Ralph: Stomach okay?
Joe: Yeah.

George: [Joe meets him at a golf club] Something from the bar, Joe? Uh, coffee?
Joe: Yeah, coffee's fine.
George: Jack, coffee and a scotch on the rocks.
Joe: Okay, George, now, just what the hell is this all about?
George: Well... it was a false alarm. I... I'm sorry, I tried to call you, but you'd already left.
Joe: Everything's all right with Jeannie?
George: Absolutely. I just got spooked. Overreacted.
Joe: Overreacted to what?
George: Well, I know this sounds ridiculous... but... I thought Jeannie'd been kidnapped.
Joe: And what made you think that?
George: Well... I, uh... I got up early and played nine holes and came back, and her car was there, but she wasn't. Her room was in shambles, and I checked with Gloria, and she didn't know where she was, either.
Joe: And that's when you called me?
George: Yeah. And then an hour later, I found a note from her. The wind had blown it off the bar. A friend had driven her to the airport and... put her on a plane to Chicago.
Joe: Chicago? What's in Chicago?
George: A wedding. Girl from school. She was invited to be a bridesmaid.
Joe: Ah. Well, I... must admit, I like it a lot better this way. After all, Jeannie is my only goddaughter.
[checks his watch]
Joe: Just sorry I won't get a chance to see her or Gloria.
George: Oh, you mean you've got to go right back?
Joe: Yeah, I'm way up to my neck. The world's full of people in trouble.
Al: George... you want a shot at getting your eight grand back, you better hustle, boy.
George: Oh, uh... I'll be right with you, cowboy.
Joe: Eight grand? Is he that good?
George: His cards are.
Joe: Ah. You know, the last time I heard from you, George, you told me you'd kick gambling, and you were trying to put it all back together with Gloria.
George: I still am. But this Al Ritchie showed up from Fort Worth claiming to be the best gin player in Texas, and I couldn't resist taking a crack at him. I apologize again.
Joe: Aw, forget it.
George: Joe, can I give you a ride to the airport?
Joe: Oh, no, no, no, don't bother. I'll catch a cab. George, be sure and give Jenny my love, huh?
George: Will do.
Al: Nice to have met you, Joe.
Joe: Likewise.

Hal: Well, Mr. Mannix, I take it you're what we used to call a gumshoe.
Joe: Bogey would be proud of me.
Hal: Mm. If you're here for the lowdown on the Labor Day party in Malibu, it'll all be in next week's issue. Should be good for a couple of divorces, which I guess, means some quick money for you chaps.
Joe: I don't handle divorce cases, Mr. Seagrave.
Hal: Aw. You quite obviously haven't got a healthy interest in dirt.
Joe: I find it tough enough living with smog.
Hal: I assume that, uh, you're here on someone's behalf.
Joe: Mm, someone who's interested in the golden days of Hollywood.
Hal: Mm... Nostalgia time. Mm! Gable and Tracy fighting over Myrna Loy. Lombard and Harlow... Ty Power and Flynn. All the beautiful, magical people.
Joe: Including, of course, Victoria Page.
Hal: That name somehow falls short of stimulating me. Is she your client?
Joe: Yes.
Hal: Why come to me? Surely not for help. The last time I saw Miss Page was in court, 15 years ago, when she sued me for libel. Fat chance.
Joe: Meaning, uh, she lost the case.
Hal: She lost.
Joe: But the melody lingers on.
[Seagrave nods]
Joe: Obviously, you still hold a grudge.
Hal: One that I shall cherish to the end of my days.
Joe: Why?
Hal: Mark Baxter used to be top of the heap. He was number one director in Hollywood. Then he found this mousy, undernourished fugitive from a repertory company in, of all places, Long Beach. He taught her how to... how to talk, how to wear clothes. He gave her a presence, a posture, an incandescent glow. Then he put together a movie package to launch her as a ready-made star. And how did our lady thank him? Halfway through, she walked out on him and the picture. That, uh... that finished Mark Baxter in Hollywood.
Joe: That's what you hold against her?
Hal: I couldn't care less about their love life. But I ponied up $50,000 of my own money to get The Deadly Madonna rolling. And then when it ground to a halt, thanks to dear Vicki, I was out every nickel.
Joe: You once let it be known that you had a work print on The Deadly Madonna.
Hal: Yeah. I kept it in a closet, gathering dust, to remind me that show business is for fools.
[sighs]
Hal: Then, a few years ago, I got a tip that...
[sighs]
Hal: ... that Mark Baxter was holed up in some mission for drunks downtown. So I, uh, I sent it to him. I figured he needed it more than I did to cheer up his declining years.
Joe: Do you, uh, remember where you sent it?
Hal: Some dump on Los Angeles Street.
Joe: Well... thanks for your help, Mr. Seagrave.
Hal: Mr. Mannix... I'm sorry I couldn't be more specific, but, uh, Skid Row is not exactly my beat.
Joe: Some drunks have all the luck.

Susan: Please, Mannix. Is it the money?
Joe: Yeah, it's the money. And the fact I know who I am - a guy who keeps a bargain.

Joe: I'm not going to sit this out in a jail cell.
Lew: You'll be backed up by Intertect all the way. I'll be working for you.
Joe: I want me working for me, Lew.

Susan: Mannix. Does anything go with that?
Joe: Joe.
Susan: Joseph! Turncoat of many colors! Come to lead me out of Egypt, back to the Promised Land? Or is it back to bondage?

Peggy: The whole of civilization is built on faith, Parker. Don't waver.

Cap: Hey, what's happened? Nobody come down to the boat.
Wexler: Shut up, Cap.
Cap: Yeah, but you guys said...
Lonnie: Cap! Later
Wexler: The word is that that Mannix is nobody to fool around with, so we got to move fast.
Chili: How?
Wexler: Well, we'll use the same plan we had for Diana: kill her, dump her off Cap's boat. Lonnie, I'd, uh, I'd like you to take care of that for me.
Lonnie: Me?
Wexler: I need somebody I can depend on. Besides... you have a... way with women.
[chuckles]
Cap: Fog's coming in now, though. You're gonna have to wait for it to lift.
Wexler: Of all the boats in the marina, you have to have one with a busted radar!
Cap: Still ain't no better boat on the coast! You can ask anyone!
Wexler: All right. All right! Wait. Just let me know when it's over. Lonnie... this time, no mistakes.
Chili: Lonnie, about the foul-up, I really feel bad.
Lonnie: Get lost.

Helen: Did they leave you here all alone?
Joe: Not anymore.

Joe: [last lines, while Calvin and Linda stare at each other in the doorway] Joe Mannix, meet Joe Mannix.
[pause]
Joe: Pleasure's all mine.

Mike: Mannix, I sure hope you like this little ol' state of ours, 'cause it's pretty near a cinch you're gonna get buried in it.

Leslie: It's like surviving an atomic attack, and then breaking your neck on a banana peel..

Lytell: Find the informer... or run the risk of someone making a case against you to save his own hide.
Joe: Meaning I'm included?
Lytell: Everyone's included.
Joe: You're asking me to prove I'm no longer something I never have been.
Lytell: No. Just prove that what you claim is true.
Joe: Under the circumstances, uh, what would that be?
Lytell: Uh, can't you reach into your hip pocket and pull out proof that says you're not the informer? Or that you could name the right man if you had to?
Joe: My hip pocket is empty.
Lytell: Well, then you have a lot of work to do.
Joe: What kind?
Lytell: Maybe I want you to play peeping Tom when the bagmen make their run to Miami.
Joe: What?
Lytell: [laughs] You see how much you thought you knew, and how little you really did?
Joe: I'm clean.
Lytell: Don't depend on it.
Joe: Nobody can touch me.
Lytell: You're going to have to prove it. Just like everyone else. Because all the others will try to prove they're not the one I'm looking for.

Alan: [after Mannix brings Boone up to the Stabler's apartment to question him about taunting Tom] Look, I'm sorry. It was just a joke.
Tom: A joke?
Alan: Yeah, a bad joke. I'm sorry.
Tom: You scared my wife half to death!
Lisa: You must be sick!
Alan: I SAID I'M SORRY!
[pause]
Alan: Sometimes I get these crazy impulses.
Joe: Let's see some identification.
Alan: What for?
Joe: Okay. We'll let the police ask the questions.
Alan: Oh, wait! Wait!
[takes out his wallet]
Alan: Here.
Joe: [takes the wallet and looks inside] "Alan Boone. 2135 Cerrito Road. Sacramento."
Alan: Yeah. You see, I'm a salesman. I'm on the road all the time. Sometimes I get these crazy impulses. But I'm leaving town tomorrow.
Joe: There's a one-way plane ticket to San Jose.
Alan: You see? You see? I'll be gone! I'll never come this way again.
Tom: Why did you do it?
[pause]
Alan: [looking at Mrs. Stabler] It's her. Beautiful girl. I guess I get jealous. I don't know. I'm sorry.
[pause]
Joe: You want to prefer charges, Mr. Stabler?
Tom: [thinks for a second] He's out from under his rock now. Let him go.
Joe: Well, he frightened your wife. He could call somebody else. The only way you can stop him is to prefer charges.
Alan: No, no, honest!
[pause]
Tom: Mr. Mannix, we don't want any trouble. I mean reporters hanging around and all that. I don't want to prefer charges. Let's just drop it.
[Mannix nods and hands Boone his wallet back]
Alan: [takes the wallet and runs toward the door] Thanks a million. I promise I'll never... I promise. Thanks.
[walks out the door]
Tom: It's over. We're grateful.
Lisa: Yes, thank you.
Joe: Glad I could help. As a matter of fact, I think I may have eliminated part of a problem of my own.

Joe: That's what bothers me. I've never seen anything fall apart so fast and still look exactly the same.

TV: [promo for December 30, 1973 repeat] Mannix probes the eerie world of ESP and Barnaby Jones finds out he may have erred when he cleared a client of murder when Wayne Rogers of MASH guest stars on tonight's exciting Mystery Double Feature here on CBS.

C.W. Taggart: Is that you, Uncle? Who is that with you? Do they wanna play with me?

Mrs. O'Farrell: My husband, Mr. Mannix; he was a one-man potato famine.

Joe: Elizabeth Farrell?
Liz: You went to some trouble finding me.
Joe: Is it Miss Farrell?
Liz: Missus.
Joe: My name is Joe Mannix, Mrs. Farrell, and it was no trouble at all. A friend of mine at the DMV checked out your car license, and the auto rental agency gave me your address.
Liz: Come in, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Thank you.
Liz: I suppose you want to know why I was at the cemetery?
Joe: If you don't mind telling me.
Liz: I read about the little girl in the paper.
Joe: And you donated $500?
Liz: Yes.
Joe: So that the little girl wouldn't be quite alone?
Liz: I had a daughter. She would've been the same age. Four years ago, her father was driving her to San Francisco. They were going to the circus.
Joe: Mm.
Liz: I was down with the flu. I couldn't be with them. Just outside of Merced, a trailer jumped the center divider and hit the car. They were both...
[pauses]
Liz: Mr. Mannix, what's your interest in all this?
Joe: About the same as yours, Mrs. Farrell. I felt the little girl... well, deserved someone. Thanks for seeing me.
Liz: Not at all.

Joe: Lew, we've been here before. I know you won't change the system. I know I won't change the system. It's logical. Can me.
Lew: You're my best man!
Joe: I know.
Lew: I know you know!

Joe: Deadly serious, you say?
Boston: Oh, yes, yes. I might as well start from scratch. I haven't any. Scratch, that is. I suppose the fee is one of the first things that crosses your mind when you take a case.
Joe: No, it's not the first, but, it's right up there.
[Peggy hands Boston his coffee]
Boston: Oh, thank you.
Peggy: Joe?
Joe: No thanks.
Boston: [after drinking his coffee] Oh, there's something extravagant about coffee that's only gone through the grounds once.
[Peggy leaves]
Boston: Let me put it to you this way, Mr. Mannix. I would like to panhandle your services for a spell. Flat out, that's it.
Joe: Widows and orphans only. Except under special circumstances.
Boston: Widows and orphans will be with us always, Mr. Mannix, but I am the last of a dying breed. I'm offering you an opportunity to preserve a touch of Americana. I am a hobo. One of the last, you may be sure.
[Joe frowns]
Boston: Ah, I see I have touched a chord of longing that exists on all red-blooded men. Steel wheels on the steel rails, free and moving from Ft. Lauderdale to Seattle.
Joe: Well, I don't know about that.
Boston: But what it gets down to is this, Mr. Mannix: I'm offering you a rare opportunity. If this proposition became public knowledge, there are people who would consider it your duty.
Joe: Uh, you say that you're the last of a dying breed, and that somebody is trying to rush things.
Boston: Someone is trying to kill me, that's a plain fact.
Joe: Oh. Anyone with a reason?
Boston: I haven't laid a straw in anyone's way in 40 years.
Joe: Just how are they trying to kill you?
Boston: Gunshots. I was walking on 7th Street on my way to Marcel's.
Joe: The restaurant?
Boston: Yes, it was almost time for the nightly backdoor buffet. Marcel, as you know, is very generous with his unclaimed entrees. I was about a block away and I heard this noise. I thought a first, of course, that it was the backfire of some passing automobile, but then I noticed the pungent odor of gun smoke.
[shows Joe a bullet hole in his coat]
Boston: You see, backfires don't cause bullet holes, Mr. Mannix.
Joe: Are you sure they were shooting at you?
Boston: Well, as there was no one else within a block of me at the time, I jumped to that conclusion, yes.
Joe: Uh... a shot in the dark. That's, uh, really not very much to go on.
Boston: Would it help to know that this is not the first time that foul play has been attempted?
Joe: You mean somebody tried to kill you before?
Boston: Not me. Gully Anderson, Old Steam Whistle, as he was known, rest his soul.
Joe: He was killed?
Boston: Cheap whiskey and a rainy night in St. Louis. Pneumonia. That would've been three weeks ago Tuesday.
Joe: What has that got to do with your being shot at?
Boston: Well, Gully was shot at in the same neighborhood just before bad weather and bad habits done in him. That's a dangerous world for hobos, Mr. Mannix. I'd like you to find out why.
Joe: Oh. I'll tell you what, Boston.
Boston: Stanton Elliot Collier for your files. You will start a file?
Joe: Well, I will canvas the area for you and check with the police, but I'm afraid that about the best I can do.
Boston: Well, that's all I can ask: your best.
Joe: Well, I suggest you get back to where you're staying... I'll give you a lift.
Boston: All right. But first, I have an engagement for brunch at the Hollywood Bowl.

Carol: Unless you have a warrant, I think you better leave.
Joe: I'm not from the police.
Carol: Well, in that case, I'm sure they'd like to know exactly who you are.
Joe: The number is 625-3311.
Carol: You said you were a buyer?
Joe: That's right.
Carol: Of what?
Joe: Film.
Carol: What kind?
Joe: Fresh film... shot in a mountain cabin a couple hours ago.
Carol: Who are you?
[Joe hands her a card]
Carol: Private investigator?
Joe: Mm-hmm. Cash and negotiable bonds, $10,000's worth. No fuss, no phone calls, no police. That's the way my client wants it.
Carol: Your client?
Joe: A man pretty highly placed.
Carol: Well, I must say, he's very prompt coming up with the money.
Joe: Well, he thought it best to appeal to your conscience quickly.
Carol: It's the sort of appeal I respond to.
Joe: Where's the film?
Carol: Still in the camera.
[Joe examines the camera]
Carol: What are you doing?
Joe: Just checking.
[takes the film out of the camera]
Joe: Well, uh, thank you, Miss Barr.
Carol: Thank you, Mr. Mannix. You see, I do have a conscience.

Rich: Are you out of your wooly-headed mind?

Neil: [after being interrupted by Mannix in bar fight] Hey man, do you mind if I finish the set by myself?

Sgt. Al Reardon: [while being questioned in Art's office] Well, I don't understand any of this. It's... It's like some kind of nightmare!
Joe: Why don't you let me get you a lawyer?
Sgt. Al Reardon: I don't need a lawyer, Joe. I need a friend that will believe my story. That's why I called you.
Joe: Yeah, now, you, uh, say you were at home all night alone?
Sgt. Al Reardon: Yeah, I... I am mostly since... since Mary left me.
Joe: Did you know this loan shark? What was his name?
Lt. Art Malcolm: Briscoe. Nick Briscoe.
Joe: Did you know him?
Sgt. Al Reardon: Of course I knew him. I busted him last year. I had two witnesses willing to swear he was charging them ten percent interest per week.
Joe: Did you get a conviction?
Sgt. Al Reardon: The witnesses backed off. Briscoe got to 'em.
Joe: Al, uh... how do you explain the damage to your car?
Sgt. Al Reardon: I can't explain it, Joe! I can't explain any of this! I just know I didn't do it!

Colonel: [interrogating the waiter who talked to Dr. Considine and Joe after Dr. Waldo left their hotel room] The two Americans, where did they go?
Room: How should I know?
Colonel: [slaps the waiter] You're lying! We have information that you were the last person who in touch with them before they left that hotel. Now, where did you send them?
Room: I brought them their lunch, that's all. I was their waiter.
Colonel: You mean their contact! Admit it!
Room: I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a waiter, and that's all I am.
Colonel: When you're not working for the Victor Lucas movement! That's more like it, isn't it?
[grabs the waiter by the shirt]
Colonel: You're working for it, the two Americans are working for it. They leave you, they meet others, and all of them viciously attack government forces. You're all in it together.
Room: I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a waiter. I told you that before.
Colonel: Take him downstairs. Make him talk. I WANT TO KNOW WHERE VICTOR LUCAS IS HIDING!
[one of DuPar's guards leaves with the waiter]
Colonel: The two Americans are connected with the movement. They must be.
Dr. Ernestine Waldo: Yes, of course. But the vital question is, how? For what purpose?
Colonel: Well, we have means of knowing soon enough. He'll talk.
Dr. Ernestine Waldo: Two of your best men lie dead in the morgue, a third critically wounded. I'm sure you're not simply waiting.
Colonel: Needless to say, a city-wide dragnet for the entire group is already underway.
Dr. Ernestine Waldo: I would have thought nationwide.
Colonel: I'm extending it to that, of course.

Alphonso: This reward, how much?
Joe: Depends on how much you have to tell me.
Alphonso: The two men you are looking for; I know where they are.
Joe: You just hit the jackpot.
Alphonso: Five thousand American dollars?
Joe: Why didn't you speak up inside?
Alphonso: When men talk of thousands of dollars, it is better they talk alone.

John: [Joe enters his office and sees John Phillips] I helped myself. You don't mind?
Joe: What do you want now? I haven't got time for games.
John: How close are you to finding the undercover agent?
Joe: Close enough.
John: And when you do find him, you're going to turn him over to Powers, is that right?
Joe: That's what I was hired to do, remember? My secretary's life is at stake.
John: The Department will find your secretary. Don't worry.
Joe: You're the undercover agent?
John: That's right.
Joe: Keep talking.
John: I need time.
Joe: Sorry, you haven't got much. Powers gave me a limit. I've got just 48 hours left to find you.
John: Well, that figures. He's afraid. The syndicate is putting pressure on him. There's something big in the wind. And if Powers can't find me, the whole thing goes up in smoke. His life is on the line. Oh, and about tonight, I'm sorry. I had no choice.
Joe: I take a beating and you're in the clear?
John: Something like that. Mannix, look, try to understand. We can't afford to let all the work we've done go down the drain. The least you can do is stall for time.
Joe: Now you listen to me, Phillips. I just slugged a police lieutenant. In a few minutes, every cop in town will be out looking for me. My secretary is living day to day. Now I just don't much give a damn about your job!
John: We'll find her.
Joe: You'd better, and fast.

Joyce: Don. Are you all right?
Don: Yeah, the doctor said to stay in bed for a few days. You okay?
Joyce: Yes, just fine.
Wilkerson: This is Mr. Mannix, a private detective. He wants to talk to you.
Don: About what?
Joe: Vic Henshaw's accident.
Joyce: Don, did you take your gun out to the plant Sunday?
Don: No.
Joe: Where were you on Sunday?
Don: About what time?
Joe: Oh, say, uh, between 12:00 noon and 2:00 pm.
Don: I was here with my dad watching the football game.
Joe: Yeah, what game was that?
Wilkerson: The 49ers. Would you like the score? We sat through the final whistle together.
Don: Joyce, what's this all about?
Joyce: [sighs] I asked Mr. Mannix to find out how Vic really died.
Don: Why?
Joyce: They said Vic was drunk. I... didn't believe it.
Wilkerson: Mannix found three empty shells out of that old M16 of yours at the plant.
Don: Oh... and you thought that...
Joyce: I-I didn't know what to think.
Joe: That's why she hired me.
Wilkerson: Don has been out at the plant on Sunday before with his rifle, and he has fired it, but not last Sunday. Those shells must be from before.
Joe: Angie McCall, uh, heard gunfire at the plant Sunday.
Wilkerson: Hunters- it's deer season. I think you better go back to bed, son. I'll take care of Joyce, Mr. Mannix.
Don: Yes, I am feeling kind of rocky.
[to Joyce]
Don: I'm sorry, honey.
[kisses Joyce on the cheek]
Don: I'm sorry. Sorry.
[walks back to his bedroom]
Wilkerson: Now, we find need detectives to solve our problems, Joyce.
Joyce: I just didn't know what to do.
Wilkerson: Well, next time, you come to me, hmm? I'm the complaint department in this family. You promise?
Joyce: Yes.
Wilkerson: Good. Now, I think you better tell Mr. Mannix that we don't need his services any longer.
Joyce: You were- you were wrong, weren't you?
Joe: Not if Don was lying about where he was Sunday.
Joyce: Don wouldn't lie.
Joe: I've got three empty shells, I've got a witness that heard gunfire, and I've got a diabetic who supposedly put away a bottle of liquor.
Wilkerson: If Don's lying, I'm lying.
Joe: That would keep it in the family, wouldn't it?

Dorothy: I guess we all have our own private hells.
Joe: Don't you think it's time you left yours?

Joe: Ms. James. Please come in. Sit down.
Celia: Um... I made a mistake, Mr. Mannix and wasted your time.
Joe: You said it was urgent. Now if it's still urgent, maybe I can help. I promise no charge for this. Sit down.
Celia: Well, my Uncle Simon-- Simon Garvey-- came to Los Angeles three days ago. We had dinner and afterwards, he asked if I'd do him a little favor. Keep his attache case for him overnight.
Joe: Seems a little enough favor.
Celia: Except that was three days ago. He didn't call the next morning, so I called him. The hotel said he checked out. He hasn't called since. He's just vanished.
Joe: Do you know what's in the attache case? Did you look?
Celia: Yes. Yes, I did. $312,000.
Joe: That's a fortune. Question is... whose fortune? Tell me, uh, was there anything else in the case?
Celia: Some papers. Names and places. Nothing that would explain the money.
Joe: So you came to me. Why didn't you go to the police?
Celia: I didn't want any trouble.
Joe: You're short an uncle and long $300,000. I'd say you got trouble.

Orville: [entering Starr's cabin on a boat] He was exactly where you said, Mr. Starr, at Jonah's Place.
Hamilton: Welcome aboard, Mannix. Well, how does he look, Orville? Have the years treated him kindly?
Orville: Looks about the same.
Joe: Well, you finally got your hands on the Auroras, huh?
Hamilton: Magnificent, aren't they? Banked fires to warm a man's soul. No wonder so many people have died for them through the years.
Joe: Last night you nearly added Terry Graham's name to the list.
Hamilton: I had nothing to do with the attack on Miss Graham.
Joe: You expect me to believe that? When you're sitting here gloating over this collection?
Hamilton: [laughs] My dear fellow, these are nothing but paste. Your eyes are deceiving you. You're a man of keen senses, Mannix. Use them. These have no melody, no... heat. The Auroras burn and sing. That's why I've wanted them all my life- not to sell, just to own that fierce light. It would be almost like having my sight back.
[pause]
Hamilton: So I planned. For years, I planned. Blueprints of Robert Blakely's house, the design of the safe, servants' schedule, nights watchman's rounds. Right, Orville?
Orville: How can you forget?
Hamilton: And finally, five years ago, I moved. There was only one thing I couldn't anticipate- the worthless imitations in the safe. Someone had beaten me to the Auroras.
Joe: Howard Graham.
Hamilton: Exactly. Yeah. Rather a bitter joke on Mr. Blakely, wouldn't you say? Hoodwinked by the son-in-law he despised. Took me years before I was sure it was Graham. Then Jonah came to my rescue. He told me that Graham was prepared to deal for the jewels. I sent Orville here on his trail, he saw the girl come into the park, and there were the Auroras within arm's length. Orville lost them as a runt hound might lose a hapless rabbit.
Orville: I did the best I could.
[lights a cigar for Starr]
Hamilton: Yes. And that's the pity of it.
[pause]
Hamilton: Sorry, Mannix. The point is, someone else got the Auroras, which is the reason for your being my guest this morning.
Joe: Who else could have known Graham had them?
Hamilton: Who else, indeed, Mannix? Mannix, I want the Auroras. I'm willing to pay you for them. But, unless I get them soon, there's going to be more blood on them.
Joe: If there is, Starr, I'll find you.
Hamilton: Don't try to threaten me. I've lived in the dark too long to be frightened by anything. The Auroras, Mannix. Hard way, the easy way... it's up to you.
[Mannix leaves the cabin]
Hamilton: We'll have them soon, Orville. Did I offend you?
Orville: It's... you know, it's in front of people.
Hamilton: Sorry. We make a good pair, you and I. You're my eyes, and I'm your brain. It's a very satisfactory arrangement.