Writer(s): John Meredyth Lucas
ETHEL MARTEL: Mr. Orwell?... Could we talk to you?
ORWELL [looking under hood of his car]: Well, I'm having trouble with my starter.
MARTEL: Well, our lawyer gave us your name.
ORWELL: Ya know anything about cars?
MARTEL: He said we should hire a private detective.
MARTEL: That doctor killed my son-in-law.
ORWELL: What doctor?
MARTEL: Dr. Lusk.
ORWELL: He know anything about cars?
MARTEL [now disconcerted]: Oh… uh… this is my daughter, Mrs. Ross.
ORWELL: Oh… uh… yeah. I gotta call the garage. You wanta come inside? [Heads towards his beach cottage.]
MARTEL [to her daughter]: I wonder if he's the right man for the job?
SPENCER [picking up phone]: Spencer's garage.
ORWELL: Yeah… uh, hi…I can't get it started again.
SPENCER: Yeah…who told you that it was gonna happen?
ORWELL: Yeah, I know, but I need you to come over and pick it up.
SPENCER: Harry, I don't make house calls. And I got work stacked up to here.
ORWELL: I know, Spence, but if you come over just this one time, I'll be forever in your debt.
SPENCER: You already are.
ORWELL: ...We don't want this debt to accumulate, do we?... Spencer, I'll pay you...I promise to pay you.
JOHNSON: That's what they're gonna put on my tombstone: "I PROMISE TO PAY YOU, SPENCE."
ORWELL: ...What if he's guilty of malpractice?
TRENCH: Orwell, this is the police department. Not the Bureau of Medical Examiners!
ORWELL: Well, that's a simple mistake to the casual observer.
TRENCH: Orwell...just as if you were invited.... How is it that you always manage to arrive at the most inconvenient time?
ORWELL: Oh...I practice a lot. Is that food? May I? [Orwell appropriates Trench's sandwich without waiting for a reply.]
TRENCH: Is there a purpose to this visit, Orwell, or are you here just to commandeer my dinner?....
ORWELL: ...Listen, I went to Tucson. It's a nice little flight if you eat first.
TRENCH: You're making up for it now...What about Dr. Lusk?
ORWELL: Dr. Lusk had a malpractice suit filed against him and the charges were dropped, but it was enough to make him leave the hospital....
TRENCH: What was it like?
ORWELL: [What're you talking about?]
TRENCH: My dinner.
ORWELL: It's not bad, not bad. Where did you get it?
TRENCH: The delicatessen, at the corner. You should go there when you get hungry. They'll serve anyone!
ORWELL: Hey...you don't have to get hot about it. I didn't drink any coffee.
TRENCH: We are out [of coffee]!!
ORWELL: Oh yeah.
SPENCER: ...Here's your car, Harry. And it starts. Now all I want is the keys to my car and $38 for the rebuilt starter.
ORWELL: Yeah, well, the keys are under the mat. Put the 38 bucks on my account, will ya?...I'll have to owe you for the whole thing.
SPENCER: That's what they're gonna put on my tombstone: "HERE LIES THE MAN THAT HARRY ORWELL OWES."
ROBERTS: Lieutenant, here's the information you requested from the FBI.
TRENCH: Aha...It's interesting...I had a hunch...
ORWELL: I have hunches. You don't have hunches.
TRENCH: I know. It's contagious...
TRENCH: As far as the FBI's concerned, Francis Ross retired.
ORWELL: Forced retirement...
TRENCH: No, he retired. Besides, he found a "Shunammite maiden." That, Orwell, is a Biblical reference. As you remember, King David...
ORWELL: Her name was Abishag. My mother made me go to Sunday school.
TRENCH: Make a note of that, Roberts.
ORWELL: Nobody can blame him for wanting to have a good time in his old age....
TRENCH: Orwell, have you noticed men like Rosenman never live long enough to enjoy their retirement benefits.
ORWELL [voiceover]: How do you itemize $237.10? Well, that's the price they charged me for the [grave]stone and to carve: "HERE LIES A MAN HARRY ORWELL OWES."