Maddie quotes from Jonathan Creek

[Talking to her Publisher] I've got this theory that Jonathan Creek is himself an illusion. Just when you think you've found him, he drifts through your fingers like smoke.

'A Good One'?! Is that all you can say? Somewhere between here and the ground someone's planted a corpse in my cupboard and I didn't even see it happen!

It's called a Steadicam. It eliminates jerks.

Jonathan

So does Clint Eastwood, I wouldn't want him strapped to my chest.

[Seeing Jonathan's collection] I take it this is a disease that struck in childhood?

Jonathan

I never wanted to be a magician as such; swanning about with silk hankies. It was... I dunno... The ingenuity at the back of it. Always fascinated the hell out of me.

You know Jack Holliday died?

Jonathan

Yeah, it's the only thing he ever did that made me laugh.

Oh, that's great! The poor man's dead!

Jonathan

I bet that won't stop him overacting, though.

Jonathan

I nearly rang you. I'd get as far as the last digit, but something would always stop me. I suppose it was the thought of getting sucked into another one of your grisly murder investigations. You know how you always fear the worst

[laughs brightly]

Jonathan

Stop this car.

Jonathan...

Jonathan

[scoffing] 'Flush out the carbon monoxide with some sea air'?

Jonathan

No Time to Lose.

Right. Where are we going?

Jonathan

Anywhere! As far away from here as possible. That could have been my head skewered to the matress!

Now just hang about. You can't tell me you've unravelled this whole thing and then bugger off! What kind of spineless cretin are you?

Jonathan

No special kind. Just your average cretin... with a train to catch.

Jonathan

[After checking out the wardrobe] Nope. All seems pukka. No panels, no breakaways, no phantom joints... just a wardrobe really. [Pause] You want to know how it was done?

Yes.

Jonathan

That makes two of us.

[Indicating the french windows of the house beyond the gate] That's the one, then. You could hardly miss her from here, so when she pressed this bell, someone must have let her in. [Presses intercom button]

Jonathan

What are you doing?

We've got to check it out.

Jonathan

I can't go in there!

Why not?

Jonathan

Roy Pilgrim!? I can't meet Roy Pilg...you're talking about mythology. You reduce someone like that to flesh and blood and the whole thing is destroyed, the whole icon.

Jonathan, you're beginning to sound like a prat.

Jonathan

Sorry.

[Over the intercom] What does it take to make you go away?

Look, I'm sorry about yesterday (She posed as a detective), but I'm really quite interested in helping you actually. If you'd just take a minute to let us in.

What are you?

Right now Mr Pilgrim? We're the only hope you've got.

Miss Magellan? Stephen Claithorne. I believe you're a collector of mysteries?

What?! I'm sorry, I've only just this second woken up.

We're likely to get into all sorts of tangles if we play questions and answers. So with your permission. [He walks in] I'll just begin at the beginning.

Well before you do, if this some tale about a missing hymn book, it's a bit early...

It's murder, Miss Magellan. Cold, clinical and calculated. And it took place last night at my home in Oxfordshire. The midday papers will be full of it. What they won't explain, what no-one can explain is how the killer evaporated into thin air, right in front of everyone's eyes. Some miracles you don't want to believe in.