Stansfield: [catching Mathilda in the bathroom with food bags] Special delivery huh... Let me guess... Chinese? Thai, maybe? Ahh, I've got it. Italian food
[pops a pill and pulls out a gun]
Stansfield: What's your name angel...
[Mathilda answers]
Stansfield: ... Mathilda, I want you to put the sack on the floor... good... Now, I want you to tell me everything you know about Italian food, and don't forget the name of the chef who fixed it for me.
Mathilda: Nobody sent me.I do business for myself.
Stansfield: Ahh... so this is... something... personal?... What filthy peice of... shit... did I do now?
Mathilda: You killed my brother.