Mr. Rusk. You're not wearing your tie.
I... [Defeated, Rusk drops the trunk to the floor]
Mr. Rusk. You're not wearing your tie.
I... [Defeated, Rusk drops the trunk to the floor]
You can inform Mrs. Blaney that one of her less successful exercises in matrimony has come to see her.
And who shall I say is calling?
Mr. Blaney.
Let's hope he slips up soon.
In one way I rather hope he doesn't. We haven't had a good juicy series of sex murders since Christie. And they're so good for the tourist trade. Foreigners somehow expect the squares of London to be fog-wreathed, full of hansom cabs and littered with ripped whores, don't you think?
We were just talking about the tie murderer, Maisie. You'd better watch out.
He rapes them first, doesn't he?
Yes, I believe he does.
Well I suppose it's nice to know that every cloud has a silver lining.
Do I look like a sex murderer to you? Can you imagine me creeping around London, strangling all those women with ties? That's ridiculous... For a start, I only own two.
Don't forget, Bob's your uncle.
I don't know if you know it, Babs, but you're my type of woman.
I expect she'll turn up sooner or later. These days, ladies abandon their honor far more readily than their clothes.
If you can fix up a lot of idiots, why not me?
Just thinking about the lusts of men makes me want to heave. He spoke French, Spanish and German while in service.
Mr. Rusk. You're not wearing your tie.
No, discretion is not traditionally the strong suit of the psychopath, dear. Believe me, that's what we're dealing with. You ought to read his wife's divorce petition.