- Samantha Stewart: There always seems to be someone dying somewhere, but you never expect it to be anyone you know.
- Sgt Brooke: Mr. Foyle?
- Christopher Foyle: Yep?
- Sgt Brooke: Well, pardon my saying so sir, but you must have it wrong.
- Christopher Foyle: Oh, yeah?
- Sgt Brooke: Well, I haven't known Sgt Milner all that long, but uh, a man less likely to murder his wife is hard to imagine.
- Christopher Foyle: Well, that's very helpful - anything else you want to say before I get you transferred?
- Sgt Brooke: No, sir.
- Phyllis Law: That tells you a bit about our work, doesn't it? Going to a funeral is the high point of my week.
- Samantha Stewart: [Sam is driving Foyle and is trying to stifle her excitement] You've found something, haven't you, sir?
- Christopher Foyle: Have I?
- Samantha Stewart: I can always tell. You have a look. A sort of, "Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war."
- [misquotes Shakespeare slightly]
- Samantha Stewart: That's Julius Caesar.
- Christopher Foyle: It's "slip".
- Samantha Stewart: What?
- Christopher Foyle: It's "let slip the dogs of war."
- Samantha Stewart: Is it really?
- Christopher Foyle: Yup, yes, it is, er, keep your eyes on the road.
- [gestures to the front just as the car engine starts blowing steam]
- Samantha Stewart: Oh, hell!
- Sgt Brooke: [to Foyle as he is leaving the station] Lovely, isn't it, sir?
- Christopher Foyle: Is it?
- Sgt Brooke: The smell. Fresh turkey, sir.
- Christopher Foyle: Ah.
- Sgt Brooke: I haven't seen a bird like that for two years.
- Christopher Foyle: Been talking to Sam?
- Sgt Brooke: Miss Stewart, sir? Not recently.
- Christopher Foyle: [walks off] Good night.
- Sgt Brooke: Night, sir.
- Samantha Stewart: [Sam is driving Foyle back from the munitions factory] Sir, there's something I wanted to talk to you about.
- Christopher Foyle: What's that?
- Samantha Stewart: Well actually, it's this turkey. I know it's none of my business...
- Christopher Foyle: That's right.
- Samantha Stewart: But I was wondering if you were just going to let it sit in the evidence room until it rots.
- Christopher Foyle: Where would you like me to put it?
- Samantha Stewart: What I mean is, do you really need it for the court?
- Christopher Foyle: Yup, afraid so.
- Samantha Stewart: It's Christmas soon, sir. And sardine pancakes are all well and good, but they're not exactly festive, are they?
- Christopher Foyle: Well...
- Samantha Stewart: You don't think the judge would mind if it was missing the drumsticks?
- Christopher Foyle: You mean, eat the evidence?
- Samantha Stewart: Not all of it. Just a leg or two.
- Samantha Stewart: Now, what do you think the judge's going to have to say about that? No. it... , Nothing we can do. End of subject.
- Samantha Stewart: [takes a breath and continues] You know sir, quite soon, it will begin to smell.
- [looks at Foyle in hope]