D.C.I. Tom Barnaby: Rule number... where are we up to now?
Nico: Uh, seven, sir.
D.C.I. Tom Barnaby: Rule number seven. Never use the indicator. Keeps the other drivers on their toes. Is that right, Troy?
Sgt. Gavin Troy: Nice lad, but get a load of this - he's gonna get paid more for playing me than I am for being me.
D.C.I. Tom Barnaby: Ghost! What's the world coming to, Joyce? Half a paragraph on the crime, and a whole page on something that doesn't exist.
Sgt. Gavin Troy: Your average villain's gone soft, carving up paintings. They'll be breaking the speed limit next or dropping litter.
D.C.I. Tom Barnaby: Why choose that picture? Why not one of the others? And having broken in, why not nick something?
Sgt. Gavin Troy: Have you got something against us having a quiet day, sir?
Alan Bradford: The museum is closed and you can't go in.
Eleanor Bunsall: Alan, dear, don't be peevish. What would you mother say?
Alan Bradford: She'd say, "Leave me alone. I've been dead for 10 years."
D.C.I. Tom Barnaby: [to a dog] You are sitting in my chair. And you're probably wearing my socks, aren't you, eh?
Marcus Lowrie: I am Marcus Lowrie, Jonathan's great great great great great great great great great grandson.
Sgt. Gavin Troy: Close were you?