Tony Wendice:
People don't commit murder on credit.
Margot Mary Wendice:
Do you really believe in the perfect murder?
Tony Wendice:
How do you go about writing a detective story?
Mark Halliday:
Well, you forget detection and concentrate on crime. Crime's the thing. And then you imagine you're going to steal something or murder somebody.
Tony Wendice:
Oh, is that how you do it? It's interesting.
Mark Halliday:
Yes, I usually put myself in the criminal's shoes and then I keep asking myself, uh, what do I do next?
Margot Mary Wendice:
Do you really believe in the perfect murder?
Mark Halliday:
Mmm, yes, absolutely. On paper, that is. And I think I could, uh, plan one better than most people; but I doubt if I could carry it out.
Tony Wendice:
Oh? Why not?
Mark Halliday:
Well, because in stories things usually turn out the way the author wants them to; and in real life they don't... always.
Tony Wendice:
Hmm.
Mark Halliday:
No, I'm afraid my murders would be something like my bridge: I'd make some stupid mistake and never realize it until I found everybody was looking at me.
Mark Halliday:
Darling, I understand now, but that doesn't stop me from loving you.
C.A. Swan:
Where's the nearest police station?
Tony Wendice:
Opposite the church, two minutes walk.
C.A. Swan:
Suppose I walk there now.
Tony Wendice:
What would you tell them?
C.A. Swan:
Everything.
Tony Wendice:
Everything? All about "Mr. Adams" and "Mr. Wilson"?
C.A. Swan:
I should simply tell them that you're trying to blackmail me into...
Tony Wendice:
Into?
C.A. Swan:
...murdering your wife.
Tony Wendice:
I almost wish you would. When she heard that we'd have the biggest laugh of our lives.
C.A. Swan:
Aren't you forgetting something?
Tony Wendice:
Am I?
C.A. Swan:
You've told me quite a lot tonight.
Tony Wendice:
What of it?
C.A. Swan:
Suppose I tell them how you followed her to that studio in Chelsea and watched them cooking spaghetti and all that rubbish. Wouldn't that ring a bell?
Tony Wendice:
Oh, it certainly would. They'd assume you'd followed her there yourself.
C.A. Swan:
Me? Why should I?
Tony Wendice:
Why should you steal her handbag? Why should you write her all those blackmail notes? Can you prove you didn't? You certainly can't prove I did. It will be a straight case of your word against mine.
C.A. Swan:
Smart, aren't you?
Tony Wendice:
No, not really. I've just had time to think things out. Put myself in your position. That's why I know you're going to agree.
C.A. Swan:
What makes you think I'll agree?
Tony Wendice:
For the same reason that a donkey with a stick behind him and a carrot in front always goes forwards and not backwards.
C.A. Swan:
Tell me about the carrot.
Tony Wendice:
[
on the phone with Margot] I'm so glad we don't have to go to Maureen's; she's such a filthy cook.
Chief Insp. Hubbard:
They talk about flat-footed policemen. May the saints protect us from the gifted amateur.
Margot Mary Wendice:
How long have you known this?
Chief Insp. Hubbard:
Did you suspect it yourself?
Margot Mary Wendice:
No, never. And yet... What's the matter with me, Mark? I don't seem able to feel anything.
Chief Insp. Hubbard:
[
Detective Pearson is about to leave with Mrs. Wendice's small purse around his wrist] Oh, wait a minute, you clot; you can't walk down the street like that - you, you'll be arrested!
Chief Insp. Hubbard:
Mind you, even I didn't guess that at once... extraordinary.
Related Links