Det. Richie Roberts quotes

The number one fear of people isn't dying, it's public speaking.

Pick up the ****in' glass!

For a cop the uppermost thing is the arrest. For a prosecutor, the arrest is nothing without the evidence to convict. We don't have any real evidence on anyone on this board, so they're coming down. We're starting over from the street.

His name is Frank Lucas. Originally from Greensboro, North Carolina. Couple of arrests years ago. Gambling, robbery, unlicensed firearm. For fifteen years he was Bumpy Johnson's collector, bodyguard and driver. He was with him when he died. Five brothers, he's the oldest, lots of cousins, all living here now, spread out around the boroughs and Jersey. The brothers are Eugene Lucas in Brooklyn, Earl Lucas in Newark, Lester Lucas in Queens, Turner Lucas, the Bronx and Teddy Lucas, in Bergen County. Except for the chinchilla coat, which no one can explain, Frank's life seems orderly and legitimate. He gets up early. Five a.m. Has breakfast at a Midtown place, usually alone. Then goes to work. Meeting with his accountant, or lawyer, dropping in on one of the several office buildings he owns. Nights, he usually stays home. When he does go out, it's to a club or dinner - with his new wife - friends, celebrities, sports figures - never O.C. guys. Sundays he takes his mother to church. Then drives out to change the flowers on Bumpy's grave. Every Sunday, no matter what.

Won't get any informants. Not inside. It's like a Sicilian family. Like he's structured his own family the same way to protect himself. Being with Bumpy long as he was, he would have been around Italians a lot. Enough to learn that much.

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