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[after performing an autopsy on a ripper murder victim]
Dr. Barry Jones, Coroner: He used a blade. Stuck it up her joy trail, and slit her wide open. He could have done a slightly better job if he had more time. But overall, it was a good, efficient butchery.
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Chief of Police: Fred, have you flipped out, or are you trying to give me an ulcer? A smart-ass coroner comes out with a little verbal diarrhea, and you immediately go around declaring there's a maniac loose in the city.
Lt. Fred Williams: Yeah, so what do you want me to say? A boy scout's been widdling on girls with his knife?
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The Ripper: [voice] But you won't understand me, you'll never understand me! You're too stupid! Quack! Quack! Quack!
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[overseeing the autopsy on the 'Ripper' Scellenda]
Lt. Fred Williams: So, what's the good news, Barry?
Dr. Barry Jones, Coroner: Well, from the pulmonary result, the cause of death was suffocation. Self-inflicted by the plastic bag thrown over his head.
Lt. Fred Williams: What about the time of death?
Dr. Barry Jones, Coroner: That I have for you exactly. Between four and five AM on Tuesday the 10th, eight days ago.
Lt. Fred Williams: Eight days? Bullshit! That son-of-a-bitch murdered Kitty just four days ago. He couldn't have have been dead for eight days! You're wrong!
Dr. Barry Jones, Coroner: Come on, Barnaby. How long have we known each other? How long have I been a coroner? 16 years! Now, if I say the time of death was eight days ago, then the time of death was eight days ago! Sure, I admit I could be a few hours off, but no more.
Lt. Fred Williams: Jesus Christ...
Dr. Barry Jones, Coroner: Does it really matter?
Lt. Fred Williams: Yeah, it does.
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[Rosie, riding a bicycle, accidently brushes past a misogynist owner's red Volkswagen]
Red Volkswagen owner: Hey! Watch where you're going!
Rosie: I'm sorry. I was thinking of Boston.
Red Volkswagen owner: You women are all the same! A menace to society! You women should stay at home where you belong. You've got the brains of a chicken!
Rosie: And you're an asshole! Ciao!
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Lt. Fred Williams: Well, if it isn't the big chief person himself.
Chief of Police: Hello, Fred. I need to talk to you and it's kind of hush-hush. Is there anywhere private where we can talk?
Lt. Fred Williams: Sure. How about the church across the street?
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Lt. Fred Williams: Would you get me some coffee?
Kitty: Sweetheart! I'm a prositute, not your wife. If you want coffee, make it yourself!
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Lt. Fred Williams: It wasn't Mickey Scellenda. He was dead for four days before Kitty's murder. So, I guess we're back to square one. Right?
Dr. Paul Davis: Well, we are... and we're not. By wiping out Scellenda as a suspect, who was really just a procurer and a peeper, brings us back to my original idea. It's a person who blames the rest of the society for their troubles. Let's say that it's a woman. She randomly chooses her victims because they're prettier, more attractive, and a lot more sophisticated.
Lt. Fred Williams: And if it's a man?
Dr. Paul Davis: If the killer is a man, then it's a man involved with a woman whom he loves very much but that there's something wrong with her like she's frigid, unattractive, and less fortunate than this victims.
Lt. Fred Williams: So in this case, he used Mickey Scellenda to go around procuring his women?
Dr. Paul Davis: It would appear so. Scellenda was just a petty criminal who got caught in the middle of it all. He relayed his conquests to the killer on a regular basis that in a way made him more wary about his employer. Scellenda eventually went too far and randomly assaulted Fay Majors. When she fingered him as the killer, he broke into her house and tried to kill her. Having failed that, he found himself in a dead end alley and knowing that he would get blamed for all of the murders, he ended it all by putting a plastic bag over his head.
The New York Ripper Quotes
Extended Reading