The Offence

Maureen: Don't push me away, shut me out! Detective Inspector Johnson: It's a job you do on your own. Maureen: Let me help you! Detective Inspector Johnson: Look, sweetie, enough's enough. Go on off to bed. Maureen: Please let me help you! Detective Inspector Johnson: "Help, help, help!" Endless bloody bleating, like a sheep with a spike stuck up it! I don't need your help. Your help or anyone else's! You had your chance. "Talk to me," you said. All you had to do was listen. You couldn't even do that. You couldn't hold that bloody belly and just listen! Maureen: Not fair! Detective Inspector Johnson: Promises, lovely bloody promises with you! "Talk to me," you said. "I'll help you," you said. "I'll make you happy," you said. You bloody didn't! I'm here to tell you, Ms. Bride of 1956, you didn't make me happy! You never have! Never once!

The Offence, CC BY-SA 4.0

Kenneth Baxter: You're mad! You must be! Detective Inspector Johnson: Mad? Mad? It's you that's mad, Baxter. You won't find me chasing after little girls and ripping their clothes off. You won't find me following little girls home from school. "Would you like a sweet?" "You come with me, little girl, I've something to show you." I know you! Can't get enough at home. Don't know what to do with it. You start looking at your secretary, think about her. What would she look like stripped off? You've got money! Easy when you've got money. "You, I want you, come here. Cash on delivery." But when you bring it off, when you see something in her eyes that says, "I'll remember you." I mean, suppose she just looks at you, and it's just one face. One more face, and 10 million others! Suppose she doesn't even see you! Kenneth Baxter: You sad, sorry, little man.

The Offence, CC BY-SA 4.0

Detective Inspector Johnson: You filthy bloody little pervert! Kenneth Baxter: Takes one to know one.

The Offence, CC BY-SA 4.0

Detective Inspector Johnson: It hasn't always been like this, like it is now. I can't think, I can't stop thinking. Is it like that? Is it the same for you? Is your mind full of things all the time? [grabs Baxter's hand, squeezes] Thoughts, pictures, shadows, darkness. White, smooth white legs, thighs and breasts, blood and pain? Kenneth Baxter: You're hurting me. Detective Sergeant Johnson: [sobbing] Help me! Kenneth Baxter: You're hurting me. Detective Sergeant Johnson: Help me! Kenneth Baxter: [breaks free from Johnson] Help your bloody self!

The Offence, CC BY-SA 4.0