The last words of a dying Italian boy prompts an investigation into a drugs ring.
- Doyle Martin Shaw
No operative can marry without my permission.
Didn't know that.
It's in the small print — and anyway, it's not ever likely to affect you, is it?
Come in, darlin', the door's open. [Thinking it's Ann]
Anythin' you say, sweetheart. [Doyle laughs]
Bodie: [to Cowley]
See, these are the kind of people you'd trust with your eighteen-year-old nymphomaniac sister, Sir.
Well, I suppose one has to make these sacrifices for a mate now 'n again. [After Doyle hits him]