A small-town detective searching for a missing man has only one lead: a connection with a New York prostitute.

Bree Daniel: Tell me, Klute. Did we get you a little? Huh? Just a little bit? Us city folk? The sin, the glitter, the wickedness? Huh?
John Klute: Ah - that's so pathetic.
Bree Daniel: Fuck off!
Bree Daniel: [voiceover] I have no idea what's going to happen. I... I just can't stay in this city, you know? Maybe I'll come back. You'll probably see me next week.
[end credits roll]
Bree Daniel: Don't feel bad about losing your virtue. I sort of knew you would. Everybody always does.
Peter Cable: I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'm so deeply puzzled. I've done terrible things, I've killed three people. Really, I don't consider myself a terrible man, no more than-than others. See, Tom Gruneman had discovered me. We were here on business together and he found me and Jane McKenna in my hotel room. She had become hysterical and she started screaming and I guess I hit her. I don't actually recall, it all happened so quickly. Anyway, she fell and hit her head and that's when Tom came in the room. I guess he must have heard her screaming. But I never understood really why she... she did that, she had never screamed before. And it was the revulsion and the contempt that I saw in his face. And the certainty that sooner or later he would use it against me within the company. And I tried to endure that as long as I possibly could, you see. Just want me to keep on talking, don't you?
Bree Daniel: No, I don't. I do understand, I really do.
Peter Cable: Make a man think that he's accepted. It's all a great big game to you. I mean, you're all obviously too lazy and too warped to do anything meaningful with your lives so you prey upon the sexual fantasies of others. I'm sure it comes as no great suprise to you when I say that there are little corners in everyone which were better off left alone; sicknesses, weaknesses, which-which should never be exposed. But... that's your stock in trade, isn't it - a man's weakness? And I was never really fully aware of mine... until you brought them out.
Bree Daniel: What's your bag, Klute? What do you like? Are you a talker? A button freak? Maybe you like to get your chest walked around with high heeled shoes. Or make 'em watch you tinkle. Or maybe you get off wearing women's clothes. Goddamned hypocrite squares!
John Klute: Okay...
Bree Daniels: I hope this doesn't make my cold any worse.
John Klute: Miss Daniels, can I ask you some questions now?
Bree Daniel: [notices Klute's surveillance gear] You bastard! Is this a shakedown, hon'? 'Cause you picked a loser, I don't have it.
John Klute: I'm looking for Tom Gr...
Bree Daniel: [interrupts him] Jesus, do you think I'd still be living in this kip if I was still in the line fulltime? I'd be back on Park Avenue.
John Klute: Can I ask you some questions?
Bree Daniel: Or you'll have me thrown back in the brig, you mean.
Bree Daniel: Men would pay $200 for me, and here you are turning down a freebie. You could get a perfectly good dishwasher for that.
Bree Daniel: And for an hour... for an hour, I'm the best actress in the world, and the best fuck in the world.
Frank Ligourin: I was just finishing up some work here. I used to be a photographer, you know... before I got into publishing.
Bree Daniels: He knows you're a pimp, Frankie. He knows you were my pimp.
Frank Ligourin: [annoyed] Excuse me... Bree, would you mind waiting outside?
[she leaves]
Frank Ligourin: [to Klute] I always respected Bree. I want to make something clear: you know, I don't go to a woman. A woman comes to me. *Her* choice.
John Klute: I understand you use narcotics. Maybe I can have a policeman come here and look at your... arms.
Frank Ligourin: You know, I may stand better with the cops than you do, pal. Why don't you just sit down and relax, eh?
Bree Daniel: You're not gonna get hung up on me, are you?
Bree Daniel: [at a payphone] Hey Trina, Bree. Listen, I could use a quick fifty. You got a commuter for me?
John Klute: So where can I find Jane McKenna?
Frank Ligourin: Baby, would I be tellin' you all this? She copped out long ago.
[pause]
Frank Ligourin: She committed suicide, Baxter.
Bree Daniels: [having sex with a john] Oh my angel! Oh my angel!