Bill Smitrovich credited as playing...
Andy Fairton
- Billy McLaren: Where's it coming from? Over there?
- Bobby Robertson: No, it's behind us. I told you you couldn't trust this fog!
- Aspinall: It's... under the fog!
- Andy Fairton: What're you saying?
- Aspinall: It's right here WITH us!
- [more growling can be heard and Edgar is attacked; Maggie screams]
- Bobby Robertson: [petrified with fear] I can't move!
- Aspinall: Start backing up, Andy.
- Andy Fairton: Yeah.
- Aspinall: Real slow.
- [Aspinall is attacked and Andy's gun goes off]
- [Andy Fairton talks trash about Sheriff Haller not finding out about who murdered Stella Randolph]
- Andy Fairton: Joe Haller couldn't find his own ass if somebody rammed it full of radium and gave him a Geiger counter!
- Sheriff Joe Haller: [to the mob, led by Andy Fairton] The law has a name for what you people are planning. It's called "private justice". And private justice is about a step and a half away from lynch mobs and hang ropes. Now I may be no J. Edgar Hoover, but I am the law in Tarker's Mills. I want all you people to go home.
- Andy Fairton: Don't let this guy scare you! What's he done since this whole thing started but hang his face out? He ain't got so much as a fingerprint!
- Owen Knopfler: Shut up, Andy.
- Andy Fairton: No, don't tell me to shut up.
- Herb Kincaid: Yes... Shut up. I just came from my boy's funeral.
- Sheriff Joe Haller: Herb. Herb, I know how upset... how grief-stricken you must be.
- Herb Kincaid: He was torn apart.
- Sheriff Joe Haller: I know that. I...
- Herb Kincaid: Upset? Grief-stricken? You don't know what those words mean. My son was torn to pieces. Pieces!
- [shouting, holding up an unseen Polaroid]
- Herb Kincaid: MY SON WAS TORN TO PIECES! You come in here and talk to these men about private justice? You dare to do that? Why do you go out to Harmony Hill, Sheriff Haller, and dig up what's left of my boy Brady... and explain to him about private justice. Would you want to do that? As for me, I'm gonna go out and hunt up a little private justice.
- [walks out of the bar]
- Andy Fairton: [to the mob] You heard him. Let's go!