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"PSYCHO"


                                         "PSYCHO"

                                            By

                                      Joseph Stefano

                            Based on the novel by Robert Bloch

                                 REVISED December 1, 1959

	 

	FADE IN:

	EXT. PHOENIX, ARIZONA - (DAY) - HELICOPTER SHOT

	Above Midtown section of the city. It is early afternoon, a 
	hot mid-summer day. The city is sun-sunblanched white and 
	its drifted-up noises are muted in blanched their own echoes. 
	We fly low, heading in a downtown direction, passing over 
	traffic-clogged streets, parking lots, white business 
	buildings, neatly patterned residential districts. As we 
	approach downtown section, the character of the city begins 
	to change. It is darker and shabby with age and industry. We 
	see railroad tracks, smokestacks, wholesale fruit-and-
	vegetable markets, old municipal buildings, empty lots.  
	vegetable The very geography seems to give us a climate of 
	nefariousness, of back-doorness, dark and shadowy. And secret.

	We fly lower and faster now, as if seeking out a specific 
	location. A skinny, high old hotel comes into view. On its 
	exposed brick side great painted letters advertise "Transients-
	Low Weekly Rates-Radio in Every Room." We pause long enough 
	to establish the shoddy character of this hotel. Its open, 
	curtainless windows, its silent resigned look so 
	characteristic of such hole-and-corner hotels. We move forward 
	with purposefulness and-toward a certain window. The sash is 
	raised as high as it can go, but the shade is pulled down to 
	three or four inches of the inside sill, as if the occupants 
	of the room within wanted privacy but needed air. We are 
	close now, so that only the lower half of the window frame 
	is in shot. No sounds come from within the room.

	Suddenly, we tip downward, go to the narrow space between 
	shade and sill, peep into the room.

	A young woman is stretched out on the mussed bed. She wears 
	a full slip, stockings, no shoes. She lies in and attitude 
	of physical relaxation, but her face, seen in the dimness of 
	the room, betrays a certain inner-tension, worrisome 
	conflicts. She is MARY CRANE, an tension, attractive girl 
	nearing the end of her twenties and her rope.

	A man stands beside the bed, only the lower half of his figure 
	visible. We hold on this tableau for a long moment, then 
	start forward. As we pass under the window shade,

							 CUT TO:

	INT. THE HOTEL ROOM - (DAY)

	A small room, a slow fan buzzing on a shelf above the narrow 
	bed. A card of hotel rules is pasted on the mirror above the 
	bureau. An unopened suitcase and a woman's large, straw open-
	top handbag are on the bureau.

	On the table beside the bed there are a container of Coco-
	Cola and an unwrapped, untouched egg-salad sandwich. There 
	is no radio.

	The man standing by the bed, wearing only trousers, T-shirt 
	and sox, is SAM LOOMIS, a good-looking, sensual shirt man 
	with warm humorous eyes and a compelling smile. He is blotting 
	his neck and face with a thin towel, and is staring down at 
	Mary, a small sweet smile playing about his mouth. Mary keeps 
	her face turned away from him.

	After a moment, Sam drops the towel, sits on the bed, leans 
	over and takes Mary into his arms, kisses her long and warmly, 
	holds her with a firm possessiveness. The kiss is disturbed 
	and finally interrupted by the buzzing closeness of an 
	inconsiderate fly. Sam smiles, pulls away enough to allow 
	Mary to relax again against the pillow. He studies her, frowns 
	at her unresponsiveness, then speaks in a low, intimate, 
	playful voice.

				SAM
		Never did eat your lunch, did you.

	Mary looks at his smile, has to respond, pulls him to her, 
	kisses him. Then, and without breaking the kiss, she swings 
	her legs over the side of the bed, toe-searches around, finds 
	her shoes, slips her feet into searches them. And finally 
	pulls away and sits up.

				MARY
		I better get back to the office.  
		These extended lunch hours give my 
		boss excess acid.

	She rises, goes to the bureau, takes a pair of small earrings 
	out of her bag, begins putting them on, not bothering or 
	perhaps not wanting to look at herself in the mirror. Sam 
	watches her, concerned but unable to inhibit his cheery, 
	humorous good mood. Throughout remainder of this scene, they 
	occupy themselves with dressing, hair-combing, etc.

				SAM
		Call your boss and tell him you're 
		taking the rest of the afternoon 
		off. It's Friday anyway... and hot.

				MARY
			(soft sarcasm)
		What do I do with my free afternoon, 
		walk you to the airport?

				SAM
			(meaningfully)
		We could laze around here a while 
		longer.

				MARY
		Checking out time is three P.M. Hotels 
		of this sort aren't interested in 
		you when you come in, but when your 
		time's up...
			(a small anguish)
		Sam, I hate having to be with you in 
		a place like this.

				SAM
		I've heard of married couples who 
		deliberately spend occasional nights 
		in cheap hotels. They say it...

				MARY
			(interrupting)
		When you're married you can do a lot 
		of things deliberately.

				SAM
		You sure talk like a girl who's been 
		married.

				MARY
		Sam!

				SAM
		I'm sorry, Mary.
			(after a moment)
		My old Dad used to say 'when you 
		can't change a situation, laugh at 
		it.' Nothing ridicules a thing like 
		laughing at it.

				MARY
		I've lost my girlish laughter.

				SAM
			(observing)
		The only girlish thing you have lost.

				MARY
			(a meaningful quiet, 
			then, with difficulty:)
		Sam. This is the last time.

				SAM
		For what?

				MARY
		This! Meeting you in secret so we 
		can be... secretive! You come down 
		here on business trips and we steal 
		lunch hours and... I wish you wouldn't 
		even come.

				SAM
		Okay. What do we do instead, write 
		each other lurid love letters?

				MARY
			(about to argue, then 
			turning away)
		I haven't time to argue. I'm a working 
		girl.

				SAM
		And I'm a working man! We're a regular 
		working-class tragedy!
			(he laughs)

				MARY
		It is tragic! Or it will be... if we 
		go on meeting in shabby hotels 
		whenever you can find a tax-deductible 
		excuse for flying down deductible 
		here...

				SAM
			(interrupting, 
			seriously)
		You can't laugh at it, huh?

				MARY
		Can you?

				SAM
		Sure. It's like laughing through a 
		broken jaw, but...

	He breaks off, his cheeriness dissolved, goes to the window, 
	tries to raise the shade. It sticks. He pulls at it.

	It comes down entirely, and the hot sun glares into the room, 
	revealing it in all its shabbiness and sordidness as if 
	corroborating Mary's words and attitude. Sam kicks at the 
	fallen shade, laughs in frustration, grabs on to his humor 
	again.

				SAM
		And besides, when you say I make tax-
		deductible excuses you make me out a 
		criminal.

				MARY
			(having to smile)
		You couldn't be a criminal if you 
		committed a major crime.

				SAM
		I wish I were. Not an active criminal 
		but... a nice guy with the conscience 
		of a criminal.
			(goes close to mary, 
			touches her)
		Next best thing to no conscience at 
		all.

				MARY
			(pulling away)
		I have to go, Sam.

				SAM
		I can come down next week.

				MARY
		No.

				SAM
		Not even just to see you, to have 
		lunch... in public?

				MARY
		We can see each other, we can even 
		have dinner... but respectably, in 
		my house with my mother's picture on 
		the mantel and my sister helping me 
		broil a big steak for three!

				SAM
		And after the steak... do we send 
		Sister to the movies and turn Mama's 
		picture to the wall?

				MARY
		Sam! No!

				SAM
			(after a pause, simply)
		All right.

	She stares at him, surprised at his willingness to continue 
	the affair on her terms, as girls are so often surprised 
	when they discover men will continue to want them even after 
	the sexual bait has been pulled in. Sam smiles reassuringly, 
	places his hands gently on her arms, speaks with gentle and 
	simple sincerity.

				SAM
		Mary, whenever it's possible, tax-
		deductible or not, I want to see 
		deductible you. And under any 
		conditions.
			(a smile)
		Even respectability.

				MARY
		You make respectability sound...  
		disrespectful.

				SAM
			(brightly)
		I'm all for it! It requires patience 
		and temperance and a lot of sweating-
		out... otherwise, though, it's only 
		hard work.
			(a pause)
		But if I can see you, touch you even 
		as simply as this... I won't mind.

	He moves away and again the weight of his pain and problems 
	crushes away his good humor. There is a quiet moment.

				SAM
		I'm fed up with sweating for people 
		who aren't there. I sweat to pay off 
		my father's debts... and he's in his 
		grave... I sweat to pay my ex-wife 
		alimony, and she's living on the 
		other side of the world somewhere.

				MARY
			(a smile)
		I pay, too. They also pay who meet 
		in hotel rooms.

				SAM
		A couple of years and the debts will 
		be paid off. And if she ever re-
		marries, the alimony stops... and 
		then...

				MARY
		I haven't even been married once 
		yet!

				SAM
		Yeah, but when you do... you'll swing.

				MARY
			(smiling, then with a 
			terrible urgency)
		Sam, let's go get married.

				SAM
		And live with me in a storeroom behind 
		a hardware store in Fairvale. We'll 
		have a lot of laughs. When I send my 
		ex-wife her money, you can lick the 
		stamps.

				MARY
			(a deep desperation)
		I'll lick the stamps.

	He looks at her, long, pulls her close, kisses her lightly, 
	looks out the window and stares at the wide sky.

				SAM
		You know what I'd like? A clear, 
		empty sky... and a plane, and us in 
		it... and somewhere a private island 
		for sale, where we can run around 
		without our... shoes on.  And the 
		wherewithal to buy what I'd like.
			(he moves away, 
			suddenly serious)
		Mary, you want to cut this off, go 
		out and find yourself someone 
		available.

				MARY
		I'm thinking of it.

				SAM
			(a cheerful shout)
		How can you even think a thing like 
		that!

				MARY
			(picking up handbag, 
			starting for door)
		Don't miss your plane.

				SAM
		Hey, we can leave together can't we?

				MARY
			(at door)
		I'm late... and you have to put your 
		shoes on.

	Mary goes out quickly, closing door behind her. As Sam stares 
	down at his shoeless feet,

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET - (DAY) - HIGH ANGLE

	Shooting down at hotel entrance. Mary comes out, walks quickly 
	to a parked cab, gets in. The cab zooms up the awful street.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. LOWERY REAL ESTATE OFFICE - (DAY)

	A small, moderately successful office off the main street. A 
	cab pulls up at the curb. We see Mary get out of cab, pay 
	driver, cross pavement to the office door.

	INT. OUTER OFFICE - (DAY)

	Mary enters office, crosses to her desk, sits down, rubs her 
	temples, finally looks over at Caroline, a girl in the last 
	of her teens.

				MARY
		Isn't Mr. Lowery back from lunch?

				CAROLINE
			(a high, bright, eager-
			to-talk voice laced 
			to-with a vague Texan 
			accent)
		He's lunching with the man who's 
		buying the Harris Street property, 
		you know, that oil lease man...  so 
		that's why he's late.
			(a pause, then, as 
			Mary does not respond 
			to the pointed thrust)
		You getting a headache?

				MARY
		It'll pass. Headaches are like 
		resolutions... you forget them soon 
		as they stop hurting.

				CAROLINE
		You got aspirins? I have something... 
		not aspirins, but
			(cheerfully takes 
			bottle of pills out 
			of desk drawer)
		my mother's doctor gave these to me 
		the day of my wedding.
			(laughs)
		Teddy was furious when he found out 
		I'd taken tranquilizers!

	She rises, starts for Mary's desk, pills in hand.

				MARY
		Were there any calls?

				CAROLINE
		Teddy called.  Me... And my mother 
		called to see if Teddy called. Oh, 
		and your sister called to say she's 
		going to Tucson to do some buying 
		and she'll be gone the whole weekend 
		and...

	She breaks off, distracted by the SOUND of the door opening. 
	MR. LOWERY and his oil-lease client, TOM CASSIDY enter the 
	office. Lowery is a pleasant, worried-faced man, big and a 
	trifle pompous. Cassidy is very faced loud and has a lunch-
	hour load on. He is a gross man, exuding a kind of pitiful 
	vulgarity.

				CASSIDY
		Wow! Hot as fresh milk! You girls 
		should get your boss to air-condition 
		you up. He can afford it today.

	Lowery flashes an embarrassed smile at Mary, tries to lead 
	Cassidy toward the private office.

				LOWERY
		Mary, will you get those copies of 
		the deed ready for Mr. Cassidy.

	Cassidy pauses beside Mary's desk, hooks a haunch onto the 
	desktop, smiles a wet smile at Mary.

				CASSIDY
		Tomorrow's the day! My sweet little 
		girl...
			(laughs as Mary looks 
			up at him)
		Not you, my daughter!  A baby, and 
		tomorrow she stands up there and 
		gets her sweet self married away 
		from me!
			(pulling out wallet)
		I want you to look at my baby.  
		Eighteen years old... and she's never 
		had an unhappy day in any one of 
		those years!
			(flashes photo)

	Mary glances, cannot bring herself to smile or make some 
	remark, continues sorting out the deed copies, tries to ignore 
	the man's hot-breath closeness.

				LOWERY
		Come on, Tom, my office is air-
		conditioned.

				CASSIDY
			(ignoring Lowery)
		You know what I do with unhappiness? 
		I buy it off! You unhappy?

				MARY
		Not inordinately.
			(puts deed copy into 
			Cassidy's too-close 
			hand)

				CASSIDY
		I'm buying this house for my baby's 
		wedding present. Forty thousand 
		dollars, cash! Now that ain't buying 
		happiness, that's buying off 
		unhappiness! That penniless punk 
		she's marryin'...
			(laughs)
		Probably a good kid... it's just 
		that I hate him.
			(looks at deed)
		Yup! Forty thousand, says here...
			(to Lowery)
		Casharoonie!

	He takes out of his inside pocket, two separate bundles of 
	new $100 bills and throws them onto the desk, under Mary's 
	nose. Caroline's eyes go wide at the sight of the glorious 
	green bundles of bills, and she comes close to the desk. 
	Cassidy leans terribly close to Mary, flicks through the 
	bills, laughs wickedly.

				CASSIDY
		I never carry more than I can afford 
		to lose!
			(closer to Mary)
		Count 'em!

				LOWERY
			(shocked, worried)
		Tom... cash transactions of this 
		size! Most irregular...

				CASSIDY
		So what? It's my private money!
			(laughs, winks, elbows 
			Lowery)
		And now it's yours.

				CAROLINE
			(staring at the money)
		I declare!

				CASSIDY
			(whispering)
		I don't! That's how I'm able to keep 
		it!
			(laughs)

				LOWERY
			(hastily interrupting)
		Suppose we just put this in the safe 
		and then Monday morning when you're 
		feeling good...

				CASSIDY
		Speakin' of feeling good, where's 
		that bottle you said you had in your 
		desk...
			(laughs, as if having 
			given away Lowery's 
			secret)
		Oops!
			(to Mary, patting her 
			arm)
		Usually I can keep my mouth shut!

	He rises, reels toward Lowery's office, pauses, turns, speaks 
	to Mary, meaningfully.

				CASSIDY
		Honest. I can keep any private 
		transaction a secret... any pri....
			(stopped by Mary's 
			cold gaze)
		Lowery! I'm dyin' of thirstaroonie!

	Lowery starts after him, pauses, turns to Mary. Cassidy has 
	gone into Lower's office.

				LOWERY
			(quietly)
		I don't even want it in the office 
		over the weekend. Put it in the safe 
		deposit box, at the bank, Mary. And 
		we'll get him to give us a check on 
		Monday - instead.

	He starts quickly away when it looks like Cassidy is going 
	to come and pull him bodily into the office. When the men 
	are gone and the door is closed, Caroline picks up a bundle, 
	smiles at it.

				CAROLINE
		He was flirting with you. I guess he 
		noticed my wedding ring.

	Mary has put one bundle into a large envelope and takes the 
	other from Caroline. When the bills are away, she puts the 
	filled envelope in her handbag, notices the remaining deed 
	copies on her desk, picks them up, goes to the private office 
	door, knocks, starts to open door as:

				LOWERY (O.S.)
		Come in.

	INT. LOWERY'S PRIVATE OFFICE - (DAY)

	Mary opens door, looks in. Cassidy is drinking from a large 
	tumbler, winks at her without pausing in his drinking. Mary 
	remains on threshold a moment, then crosses to the desk, 
	talking as she goes.

				MARY
		The copies. Mr. Lowery, if you don't 
		mind, I'd like to go right on home 
		after the bank. I have a slight...

				CASSIDY
		You go right home!  Me and your boss 
		are going out to get ourselves a 
		little drinkin' done!
			(to Lowery)
		Right?

				LOWERY
			(to Mary)
		Of course. You feeling ill?

				MARY
		A headache.

				CASSIDY
		You need a week-end in Las Vegas... 
		playground of the world!

				MARY
		I'm going to spend this week-end in 
		bed.
			(starts out)

				CASSIDY
			(to Lowery)
		Only playground that beats Las Vegas!

	Mary goes back out into the outer office, closes door.

	INT. OUTER OFFICE - (DAY)

	Mary goes to her desk, takes the handbag, checks to make 
	sure the money-filled envelope is tucked well down into it. 
	During this:

				CAROLINE
		Aren't you going to take the pills?
			(as Mary shakes her 
			head)
		They'll knock that headache out.

				MARY
		I don't need pills... just sleep.

	She goes to the door.

							 DISSOLVE:

	INT. MARY'S BEDROOM - (DAY)

	A double bed in the foreground. We just see the far side as 
	the CAMERA SHOOTS across. Mary enters the scene, clad only 
	in her slip. Perhaps she is about to get into bed. Behind 
	her is an open closet, but too dark inside for us to see any 
	contents. As Mary turns to the closet the CAMERA LOWERS to 
	show a close view of the $40,000 in the envelope on our side 
	of the bed.

	Mary takes a dress from the closet and starts to put it on 
	as the CAMERA RETREATS to reveal a packed but not yet closed 
	suitcase also on the bed. Mary zips up her dress and then 
	brings some final garments from the closet.

	She comes around to the suitcase and puts them on the top. 
	Mary works with haste and in tension, as if acting on an 
	impulse which might vanish as quickly as it came.

	The suitcase filled now, she checks around the room, then 
	takes her handbag to the bed, puts in the money-filled 
	envelope, and then slams the suitcase shut. Then filled she 
	looks at her small bedroom desk, goes to it, removes a small 
	file-envelope from one of the drawers. It is one of those 
	brown envelopes in which one keeps important papers and 
	policies and certificates. She checks its contents briefly, 
	puts it on the bed, opens another desk drawer, takes out her 
	bank book, tosses it on the bed. Then she packs both the 
	file-envelope and the bank book, into her handbag, takes one 
	quick last look around the room, picks up the handbag and 
	the suitcase and goes out of the room.

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. MARY'S GARAGE - (DAY)

	A two-car garage. One car is gone. Mary's car is parked in 
	the driveway. The CAMERA is low enough so that we can easily 
	read the Arizona number plate in the foreground.

	Mary comes out of house, starts for the trunk, intending to 
	put the suitcase in, changes her mind, places the suitcase 
	and her handbag on the front seat, gets in, starts the car, 
	begins to back out of driveway.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. MAIN STREET IN MIDTOWN PHOENIX - (DAY)

	We are close on Mary's car, shooting in at her troubled, 
	guilty face. She seems to be driving with that excess care 
	of one who does not wish to be stopped for a minor traffic 
	irregularity. She stops for a red light at a main 
	intersection.

	FROM MARY'S VIEWPOINT - (DAY)

	We see Lowery and Cassidy crossing the street, passing right 
	in front of Mary's car.

	MARY'S CAR - (DAY)

	Mary freezes.

	EXT. MAIN STREET IN MIDTOWN PHOENIX - (DAY)

	Cassidy, glancing into car, sees Mary, lets out a cheery 
	exclamation, elbows Lowery. Lowery turns, sees Mary, smiles 
	pleasantly, pulls Cassidy on.

	MARY'S CAR - (DAY)

	Mary watches the entire exchange with a look of stony horror 
	on her face.

	EXT. MAIN STREET IN MIDTOWN PHOENIX - (DAY)

	Now we look closely at Lowery. As he reaches the curb, a 
	small confusion brightens his face. He remembers that Mary 
	intended to "spend the weekend in bed." He considers, 
	curiously, turns, looks back at her, a slight frown on his 
	face.

	MARY'S CAR - (DAY)

	Mary sees the pause and the look.

	EXT. MAIN STREET IN MIDTOWN PHOENIX - (DAY)

	For a moment it even looks as if Lowery might be meaning to 
	cross back to the car.

	MARY'S CAR - (DAY)

	Mary's tension is unbearable. And at that moment we hear the 
	shrill shriek of the traffic cop's whistle.

	Mary zooms the car away.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. HIGHWAY - (DAY)

	Mary in car, driving, safely away from town. Her look is 
	less tense now, and more purposeful. After a moment, she 
	checks the fuel gauge, frowns, looks along highway for a gas 
	station.

								 FAST DISSOLVE TO:

	MARY'S CAR - (DAY)

	Approaching and leaving city limits.

	MARY - (DAY)

	Looks at gas gauge.

	C.U. GAS GAUGE - (DAY)

	EXT. A GAS STATION - (DAY)

	We see Mary's car drive in, come to a stop. There are no 
	other cars about, this being a gas station off the main 
	highway, and the attendant is obviously in the shack. Mary 
	looks worried about having to make this stop, keeps her face 
	turned away from the shack, not wishing it to be seen.

	No one comes and for a moment Mary considers driving on, as 
	if the emptiness of the station were a warning, an omen that 
	she should listen to. But the gas registers almost empty. 
	She has to blow her horn.

	A YOUNG MAN comes out of the shack, starts toward her car.

	At that moment, we HEAR the RINGING of the TELEPHONE in the 
	shack. The Attendant walks a few steps further, toward Mary's 
	car, then decides to go back and answer the phone. The phone's 
	insistent ringing unnerves Mary.

	She starts her car, zooms off.

	We see the Attendant, phone in hand, in the doorway of shack. 
	He looks after the departing car with little or no expression.

	CAR

	The car grows smaller as it races up the road. The sun is 
	setting. There is something vaguely ominous about the 
	darkening sky into which the car seems to be disappearing.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	MARY IN CAR - (NIGHT)

	The oncoming headlights hurt Mary's eyes. She is getting 
	sleepy and her vision is blurring. Her eyes close, 
	involuntarily, snap open again. She stretches than wide, as 
	if forcing them to stay open. The oncoming lights seem to 
	glare to a point beyond endurance. She murmurs "Sam - Sam."

								LONG LAP DISSOLVE:

	EXT. ROAD SHOULDER - (DAWN)

	We see Mary's car, dim in the early dawn, tilted on the soft 
	shoulder of the road, looking somehow sad and pathetic, like 
	a child's thrown-away toy. And from this angle it would appear 
	that the car is empty.

	After a moment, during which there are no other vehicles 
	passing, we see, coming from the far distance, a HIGHWAY 
	PATROLMAN in a patrol car. He passes Mary's car, notes its 
	apparent emptiness, U-turns, comes back up behind the car. 
	He gets out and approaches the driver's side window.

	EXT. MARY'S CAR - (DAWN)

	The Patrolman looks down into the car.

	INT. CAR (DAWN) FROM HIS VIEWPOINT

	Mary turns with a start, sits up, is startled and unnerved 
	by the sight of the Patrolman, and, as if by automatic reflex, 
	turns the ignition and presses down on the starter.

	EXT. CAR (DAWN)

	The Patrolman holds up his hand.

				PATROLMAN
			(startled)
		Hold it there!

	Mary slams down on the brake, tries to pull herself together. 
	The Patrolman raps again, less gently.

	Reluctantly, Mary rolls down the window. The Patrolman studies 
	her for a moment.

				PATROLMAN
		In quite a hurry.

				MARY
		Yes.
			(because he seems to 
			be awaiting an 
			explanation)
		I didn't mean to sleep so long. I 
		was afraid I'd have an accident last 
		night, from sleepiness... so I decided 
		to pull over...

				PATROLMAN
		You slept here all night?

				MARY
			(a faint edge of 
			defensiveness)
		Yes. As I said, I couldn't keep my 
		eyes...

				PATROLMAN
			(mere concern)
		There are plenty of motels in this 
		area. You should have... I mean, 
		just to be safe...

				MARY
		I didn't intend to sleep all night!
		I just pulled over... have I broken 
		any laws?

				PATROLMAN
		No, m'am.

				MARY
		Then I'm free to go...?

				PATROLMAN
			(a pause)
		Is anything wrong?

				MARY
		Of course not! Am I acting as if... 
		something's wrong?

				PATROLMAN
			(almost a smile)
		Frankly, yes.

				MARY
		Please... I'd like to go...

				PATROLMAN
		Is there?

				MARY
		Is there what?
			(not waiting for an 
			answer)
		I've told you there's nothing wrong... 
		except that I'm in a hurry and you're 
		taking up my time...

				PATROLMAN
			(interrupting, sternly)
		Now wait just a moment! Turn your 
		motor off, please.

	Mary seems about to object, thinks better of it, turns off 
	the ignition.

				PATROLMAN
		In the course of my duty, I never 
		"take up" anyone's time, whether 
		it's to give a warning, or a ticket, 
		or help! Believe that, M'am.
			(a little softer)
		Now if you woke up on the wrong side 
		of... the car seat, that's one thing. 
		But when you act as if I've just 
		placed you under arrest...

				MARY
		I'm sorry.

				PATROLMAN
		No need to apologize...

	Mary starts the car, her face turned as if she wishes the 
	matter were all settled and the Patrolman had already gone. 
	The Patrolman isn't exactly one of those civil servants who 
	demands a thank-you, but he does feel her manner is a bit 
	too abrupt. He calls:

				PATROLMAN
		Wait a minute!

				MARY
			(jamming down the 
			brake)
		Now what?

	The Patrolman gazes at her a moment, then:

				PATROLMAN
		May I see your license?

				MARY
		Why?

				PATROLMAN
		Please.

	Mary pulls her handbag up from the floor, where she'd placed 
	it when she stretched out for sleep. She puts her hand in 
	it, rummages for her wallet, cannot find it.

	The Patrolman is staring at her. She glances at him nervously, 
	pokes in her bag a bit more, sighs, realizes she'll have to 
	remove some of its contents. Nervously, badly controlling 
	her fear, she takes out the money-filled envelope, and then 
	the important papers envelope, filled then a couple of other 
	items, places them on the seat, finally finds her wallet, 
	opens it, hands it to him. He looks at the wallet, then at 
	the car.

	EXT. ROAD SHOULDER - (DAWN)

	The Patrolman walks around to the front of the car, checks 
	the license plate, and returns.

	INT. MARY'S CAR - (DAWN)

	The Patrolman peers in, checks the car registration on the 
	steering wheel, returns Mary's wallet.

	She takes it, looks at him for a flicker of a moment.

	He says nothing. She starts ahead, fast.

	EXT. ROAD SHOULDER - (DAWN)

	The Patrolman stares after Mary as she drives off, then starts 
	back to his automobile.

	MARY IN CAR - (DAWN)

	She is quite shaken, realizes she caused herself a great 
	deal of trouble and placed herself in unnecessary danger. 
	She is disturbed and angry and frightened at her inability 
	to act normally under the pressure of guilt. As she drives, 
	she glances into her rear-view mirror.

	MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR - (DAWN)

	The Patrolman is following in his automobile, keeping behind 
	her at a matched speed.

	MARY IN CAR - (DAWN)

	She glances out at her surroundings.

	MARY'S POV - (DAWN)

	The Freeway ahead.

	EXT. MARY'S CAR - (DAWN)

	She suddenly turns off the highway.

	MARY IN CAR - (DAWN)

	She checks her mirror.

	MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR - (DAWN)

	The Patrolman is no longer following, has not turned off 
	after her.

	MARY IN CAR - (DAWN)

	She breathes a sigh of relief, thinks a moment, makes a quick 
	decision.

							 DISSOLVE:

	EXT. USED CAR LOT - (DAY)

	The big sign reads "California Charlie - Automobile Paradise." 
	We see Mary's car drive onto the lot and stop. Mary gets out 
	of the car, glances toward the lot office, turns her attention 
	to the line of cars, notice the California licence plates on 
	all of them. The CAR DEALER calls out from his office:

				CAR DEALER
		With you in a second!

	Mary nods, starts walking along the line of cars as if making 
	a selection. Her eye is caught by the iron newspaper stand 
	on the corner, just outside the lot.

	She stares at the papers, turns away, as if what she is 
	fearing would have to be impossible, then, having to satisfy 
	herself, goes to the stand, drops a dime in the iron slot, 
	picks up a LOS ANGELES newspaper, starts back into the car 
	lot as she glances worried at the front page. As she goes, 
	we see, coming up the street toward the lot, the same 
	PATROLMAN. He sees Mary, slows, swerves over to the opposite 
	side of the street, stops by the curb. Mary, engrossed in 
	the newspaper, and walking back ease the lot, does not see 
	the Patrolman.

	The car dealer is out on the lot now, standing and waiting 
	for Mary. As she approaches, lost in her newspaper, he smiles.

				CAR DEALER
		I'm in no mood for trouble!

				MARY
			(glancing up, thrown 
			for a moment)
		What?

				CAR DEALER
			(cheerfully)
		There's an old saying, "First customer 
		of the day is always the most 
		trouble!" But like I said, I'm in no 
		mood for it so I'm just going to 
		treat you so fair and square you 
		won't have one human reason to give 
		me...

				MARY
			(interrupting)
		Can I trade in my car and take 
		another?

				CAR DEALER
		You can do anything you've a mind 
		to... and bein' a woman, you will!
			(chin-indicating her 
			car)
		That yours?

				MARY
		Yes, it's... nothing wrong with it, 
		I'm just...

				CAR DEALER
		Sick of the sight of it!
			(laughs)
		Well, suppose you look around for 
		something that strikes your eyes and 
		meanwhile I'll have my mechanic give 
		yours the once over and... want some 
		coffee? I was just about...

				MARY
		No. Thank you. I'm in... a hurry. I 
		just want to make a change and 
		start...

	She stops suddenly, almost with a gasp. She has seen the 
	Patrolman.

	THE PATROLMAN - MARY'S POV - (DAY)

	He is staring over at her, his face dispassionate.

	EXT. USED CAR LOT - (DAY)

	Mary has to force herself to look away.

				CAR DEALER
		One thing people never ought to be 
		when they're buying a used car is in 
		a hurry!
			(starting away toward 
			her car)
		But like I said, too nice a day for 
		arguing. I'll just shoot this into 
		the garage.

	He starts into Mary's car. She looks at him, in near panic, 
	wanting to skip the whole thing. Torn, wondering if the 
	presence of the Patrolman doesn't negate the value of changing 
	cars, wondering how she can get away, wondering if she'll be 
	followed, or if the Patrolman will go away if she does stay 
	here.

	All these panic-fears rush her mind and she can do nothing. 
	The Car Dealer has driven her car into the garage. She stands 
	in the middle of the lot, feeling like a shooting target. 
	She looks toward the garage.

	THE GARAGE - MARY'S POV - (DAY)

	Mary's car is in it.

	EXT. USED CAR LOT - (DAY)

	Mary decides she cannot back out now without arousing further 
	suspicion, is compelled to look again at the Patrolman.

	THE PATROLMAN - MARY'S POV - (DAY)

	He still watches. With a self-angry sigh of resignment, she 
	goes to a close car, looks at it. The Car Dealer is returning.

				CAR DEALER
		That's the one I'd've picked for you 
		myself!

				MARY
		How much?

				CAR DEALER
		Go ahead! Spin it around the block. 
		Now I know you don't know anything 
		about engine condition, but you can 
		feel, can't you... and it's all in 
		the feel, believe me, you feel that 
		one around the block...

				MARY
		It looks fine. How much will it be, 
		with my car...?

				CAR DEALER
		You mean you don't want the usual 
		day and a half to think it over?
			(laughs)
		You are in a hurry! Somebody chasin' 
		you?

				MARY
		Of course not. Please.

				CAR DEALER
		Well... heck, this is the first time 
		I ever saw the customer high-pressure 
		the salesman!
			(laughs, sees she is 
			in no mood for it)
		I'd figure roughly...
			(looks at the car, 
			then back at the 
			garage)
		...your car plus five hundred.

				MARY
		Five hundred.

				CAR DEALER
		Aha! Always got time to argue money, 
		huh...?

				MARY
		All right.

	As the car dealer looks at her in amazement, she reaches 
	into her bag, feels the money-filled envelope, pauses.

				CAR DEALER
			(slowly)
		I take it... you can prove that car's 
		yours... I mean, out of state and 
		all... got your pink slip and your...

				MARY
		I think I have the necessary papers. 
		Is there a Ladies Room...

				CAR DEALER
		In the building ...
			(indicates, continues 
			to stare quietly)
		Mary starts for the building, glancing 
		once in the direction of the 
		Patrolman.

	THE PATROLMAN - MARY'S POV - (DAY)

	He still sits, his motor throbbing, his face quiet.

	EXT. THE USED CAR LOT - (DAY)

	Mary goes into the office building.

							 CUT TO:

	INT. LADIES ROOM - (DAY)

	Mary enters, locks door, takes envelope out of her handbag, 
	extracts one bundle of bills from the envelope, counts off 
	five, puts the bundle back into the envelope and the envelope 
	back into the bag. Then she remembers, takes out the important 
	papers envelope, goes through it, finds several papers having 
	to do with her car, takes them all out, puts back the 
	envelope, starts out of the ladies Room.

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. THE USED CAR LOT - (DAY)

	The Car Dealer has moved the car of her choice out of the 
	line. It stands in the clearing.

				CAR DEALER
			(too cheerfully)
		I think you'd better give it a trial 
		spin. Don't want any bad word of 
		mouth about California Charlie.

				MARY
		I'd really rather not. Please.  Can't 
		we just settle this and...

				CAR DEALER
		I'll be perfectly honest with you, 
		Ma'am. It's not that I don't trust 
		you, but...

				MARY
			(interrupting)
		But what?  Is there anything so 
		terribly wrong about... making a 
		decision and wanting to hurry? Do 
		you think I've stolen... my car?

				CAR DEALER
		No, M'am. I was only about to say, 
		I've sent my mechanic out to give 
		your car a little test... that's 
		all.

				MARY
			(handing him the 
			ownership papers and 
			the new bills)
		I'd like to be ready when he gets 
		back.

				CAR DEALER
		Okay. If you'll come along...

	He starts toward the office building. Mary follows, closely, 
	anxiously. She glances, sees:

	THE PATROLMAN - MARY'S POV - (DAY)

	He is still at the far curb.

	EXT. USED CAR LOT - (DAY)

	The Car Dealer goes into his office. Mary follows.

	THE PATROLMAN - (DAY)

	A second later, he starts his automobile, checks traffic, 
	comes across the street, slowly, and drives onto the lot. He 
	pauses a moment, then drives across the lot, passing the 
	office, going on to the other exit, stops there as Mary's 
	car is driven back onto the lot.

	The MECHANIC stops Mary's car, hops out, waves to the 
	Patrolman. The Patrolman waves back, goes on a bit until he 
	is behind Mary's car, stops again, looks over at the office. 
	In a moment, Mary comes out, hurries across to her new car, 
	gets in, starts the motor. The Mechanic yells:

				MECHANIC
		Hey! Miss?

	Mary pauses, turns, sees the Patrolman, then the Mechanic. 
	Her face goes white. She doesn't know which man called her. 
	Then the Mechanic waves, starts forward with her suitcase.

				MARY
			(as Mechanic reaches 
			car)
		Just put it right in here, please... 
		beside me.

	The Mechanic smiles, throws the suitcase in. Mary zooms off. 
	As she drives out of lot we see the Mechanic, the Car Dealer 
	and the Patrolman all looking after her.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	MARY IN NEW CAR ON ROUTE

	Mary is driving tensely. She checks the rear-view mirror, is 
	more shocked than pleased when she sees...

	MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR

	No sign of the Patrolman.

	MARY IN NEW CAR ON ROUTE

	She turns her face, looks out at the highway.

	ROUTE 99 - MARY'S POV

	It is heavy with traffic.

	MARY IN NEW CAR ON ROUTE

	Again she checks the mirror and although...

	MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR

	There is still no sign of the Patrolman.

	MARY IN NEW CAR ON ROUTE

	She cannot relax or feel safe, cannot convince herself that 
	nothing will come of the man's watching and suspicions.

	CAMERA IS CLOSE on Mary's face now, recording her anxiety, 
	her fears. Her guilt shines bright in her eyes and she is a 
	person unaccustomed to containing this much guilt in this 
	realistic a situation. Suddenly, we hear the SOUND of the 
	Used Car Dealer's laugh, hear it as clearly as Mary hears it 
	in her imagination. The "imagined voice" we hear is actually 
	the voice of the Car Dealer:

				CAR DEALER'S VOICE
		Heck, Officer, that was the first 
		time I ever saw the Customer high-
		pressure the Salesman!  Somebody 
		chasing her?

				PATROLMAN'S VOICE
		I better have a look at those papers, 
		Charlie.

				CAR DEALER'S VOICE
		She look like a wrong-one to you?

				PATROLMAN'S VOICE
		Acted like one.

	Mary blinks, shakes her head, as if trying to shake away 
	these voices of her imagination. She checks the rear-view 
	mirror.

	MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR

	Still no sight of the Patrolman.

	MARY IN NEW CAR

	She tries to force herself to relax, almost succeeds when 
	she is sprung to tension again by....

	EXT. HIGHWAY

	The sight of a police car. As she drives past, we hear the 
	squeaky, unintelligible voice coming over the car radio. 
	Mary zooms down on the gas, whizzes ahead.

					DISSOLVE THROUGH TO:

	EXT. HIGHWAY 99 - LONG SHOT

	Mary's car dashing along.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	MARY IN NEW CAR

	Mary looks weary, tired with strain and with hard driving. 
	Her eyes are heavy with worry and deep thought.

	OUT THE WINDSHIELD

	We can see that it is much later in the day, almost dusk.

	MARY IN NEW CAR

	We HEAR the sound of an agitated BUZZ of an intercom system, 
	a sound emanating from Mary's imagination.

	After the second BUZZ, we HEAR the voice of Caroline.

				CAROLINE'S VOICE
		Yes, Mr. Lowery.

				LOWERY'S VOICE
			(a worried tone)
		Caroline...? Mary still isn't in?

				CAROLINE'S VOICE
		No, Mr. Lowery... but then she's 
		always a bit late on Monday mornings.

				LOWERY'S VOICE
		Buzz me the minute she comes in.

	Again Mary shakes her head, forces herself to stop hearing 
	these "invented" scenes of her imagination.

	EXT. HIGHWAY

	Now we cut to the view of the road, from Mary's viewpoint. 
	Darkness of evening is coming. In the dim twilight we see 
	the neon sign of roadside restaurants and gas stations 
	beginning to blaze on.

	INT. MARY'S NEW CAR

	Back on Mary's face, and after a moment, the imagined voices 
	again:

				LOWERY'S VOICE
		Call her sister! If no one's answering 
		at the house....

				CAROLINE'S VOICE
		I called her sister, Mr. Lowery, 
		where she works, the Music Makers 
		Music Store, you know? And she doesn't 
		know where Mary is any more than we 
		do.

				LOWERY'S VOICE
		You better run out to the house.  
		She may be... unable to answer the 
		phone...

				CAROLINE'S VOICE
		Her sister's going to do that.  She's 
		as worried as we are.

	A flush of painful guilt and regret rises up in Mary's face. 
	She closes her eyes for one tight swift moment.

	EXT. HIGHWAY

	We cut again to the highway. The first oncoming headlights 
	slash at the windshield.

	INT. MARY'S NEW CAR

	Cutting back to Mary, we can sense by the tense muscles of 
	her face that she is driving faster. The oncoming headlights 
	blurt at her.

	Suddenly we HEAR Lowery's voice, loud now and frightened, as 
	if the anxiety in the man's voice was strong enough to break 
	through Mary's effort to keep her mind silent and her 
	imagination blank.

				LOWERY'S VOICE
		No! I haven't the faintest idea.  As 
		I said, I last saw your sister when 
		she left this office on Friday... 
		she said she didn't feel well and 
		wanted to leave early and I said she 
		could. And that was the last I saw...
			(a pause, a thought)
		...wait a minute, I did see her, an 
		hour or so later, driving...
			(a pause, then with 
			solemn fear)
		Ah, I think you'd better come over 
		here to my office. Quick.
			(a pause, a click)
		Caroline, get Mr. Cassidy for me.

	EXT. HIGHWAY

	It is completely dark now, night.

	INT. MARY'S NEW CAR

	We cut back to her face.

				LOWERY'S VOICE
		After all, Cassidy, I told you...  
		all that cash... I'm not taking the 
		responsibility... Oh, for heaven's 
		sake, a girl works for you for ten 
		years, you trust her! All right, 
		yes, you better come over.

	FROM MARY'S VIEWPOINT

	EXT. THE ROAD AHEAD INT. MARY'S NEW CAR

	Fast cut back to Mary's face. Oncoming headlights throw a 
	blinding light across her features.

				CASSIDY'S VOICE
			(undrunk, sharp with 
			rage)
		Well I ain't about to kiss off forty 
		thousand dollars! I'll get it back 
		and if any of it's missin' I'll 
		replace it with her fine soft flesh! 
		I'll track her, never you doubt it!

				LOWERY'S VOICE
		Hold on, Cassidy... I still can't 
		believe... it must be some kind of a 
		mystery... I can't...

				CASSIDY'S VOICE
		You checked with the bank, no?  They 
		never laid eyes on her, no?  You 
		still trustin'? Hot creepers, she 
		sat there while I dumped it out... 
		hardly even looked at it, plannin' 
		and... and even flirtin' with me...!

	A look of revulsion makes Mary close her eyes.

	THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD AGAIN

	Big drops of rain begin to appear.

	CLOSEUP - MARY

	She is becoming aware of the rain starting.

	THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD

	The rain increasing and backlit by the oncoming headlights.

	CLOSEUP - MARY

	Mary starts the windshield wipers.

	THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD

	The wipers are having a battle with the now torrential rain.

	CLOSEUP - MARY

	Peering through the blurred windshield.

	CLOSEUP - THE CAR WHEELS

	slowing down in the flooding highway.

	CLOSEUP - MARY

	peering through the windshield. The oncoming lights are fewer.

	CLOSEUP - THE CAR WHEELS

	almost coming to a slow turn.

	THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD

	just blackness and rain.

	CLOSEUP - MARY

	peering.

	MARY'S VIEWPOINT

	An almost undiscernible light in the far distance, a neon 
	sign blurred by the rain-sheeted windshield.

	MARY'S CAR

	She presses down, forces the car to move on through the 
	flooded road.

	EXT. THE ROAD

	As we move closer, we see the neon sign more clearly and can 
	faintly make out the large letters which read "Motel."  Mary 
	stops the car, lowers the window slightly, looks out. We see 
	the sign clearly now: "BATES MOTEL." Mary opens the car door 
	and dashes out into the rain and up onto the porch of the 
	motel office.

	EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)

	Mary pauses on the porch. The lights are on within the office. 
	She tries door, finds it open, goes into office. CAMERA 
	FOLLOWS her into office. There is no one present. Mary goes 
	to the desk, rings a small pushbell. There is no response. 
	Mary rubs her forehead in weariness and frustration, goes 
	back out onto the porch. She looks off in another direction, 
	slightly behind the office, and sees...

	MARY'S VIEWPOINT - A LARGE OLD HOUSE - (NIGHT)

	A path from the motel office leads directly up to this house. 
	There is a light on in one of the upstairs rooms. A WOMAN 
	passes the window, pauses, peers out.

	We see her in clear silhouette. She quickly goes away from 
	the window.

	EXT. PORCH OF BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)

	Mary, having seen the woman, expects now that she will get 
	some attention. She stands a few moments, waiting.

	No one comes. Impatience and anger rise in Mary. She dashes 
	out into the rain, to her car, gets in, opens the side window, 
	begins to honk the horn. After a moment, a YOUNG MAN open 
	the front door of the house, pauses, starts down the path. 
	After a few steps, he turns and runs back into the house. 
	Mary leaves her car, starts a dash for the shelter of the 
	porch. As she runs, we see that the Young Man has gone back 
	only to get an umbrella. Seeing that Mary is on her way to 
	the porch, he runs quickly, the umbrella unopened in his 
	hand. He gets to the porch a moment after Mary has reached 
	it.

	He stops short, looks at her, then at the umbrella hanging 
	useless in his hand, then back to her.

	There is something sadly touching in his manner, in his look. 
	Mary's impatience goes and she smiles and this makes him 
	almost smile. He gestures her into the office, standing back 
	to indicate that he will go after her. She goes into the 
	office.

	INT. OFFICE OF BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)

	The Young Man follows Mary in, closes the door. He is NORMAN 
	BATES, somewhere in his late twenties, thin and tall, soft-
	spoken and hesitant.

				NORMAN
		Dirty night.

				MARY
			(not really a question)
		You have a vacancy?

				NORMAN
			(simply, almost 
			cheerfully)
		We have twelve vacancies. Twelve 
		cabins, twelve vacancies.
			(a pause)
		They moved away the highway.

				MARY
		I thought I'd gotten off the main...

				NORMAN
		I knew you must have. No one stops 
		here anymore unless they do.

	He is behind the counter now, pushing forward the registration 
	book.

				NORMAN
		But it's no good dwelling on our 
		losses, is it.  We go right ahead 
		lighting signs and following the 
		formalities...  Would you sign, 
		please.

	Mary has placed her handbag on the counter. She takes the 
	registration book, picks up the pen, is suddenly struck with 
	the realization that she'd better use an alias. She writes 
	the name Marie Samuels.

				NORMAN
		Your home address. Oh, just the town 
		will do.

				MARY
			(glancing at newspaper 
			sticking out of her 
			handbag)
		Los Angeles.

	She realizes he didn't ask her to tell him, merely to write 
	it down. She smiles, writes Los Angeles beside the false 
	name. Norman smiles, stops smiling out of embarrassment.

				NORMAN
		Cabin One. It's closer in case you 
		want anything... right next to the 
		office.

	CLOSEUP - NORMAN

	He removes a key for Cabin One. We see that there is a 
	remaining key on the board.

	TWO SHOT - MARY AND NORMAN

				MARY
		I want sleep more than anything.  
		Except maybe, food.

				NORMAN
		There's a big diner about ten miles 
		on up... just outside Fairvale.

				MARY
		Am I that close to Fairvale?

				NORMAN
		Fifteen miles. I'll get your bags.

	He goes to door, opens it. The rain has slowed down 
	considerably. He smiles at this fact, as if to communicate 
	some pleasure he finds in it. Mary follows him to the door, 
	goes out on the porch, waits and watches as Norman runs to 
	her car, gets in, drives it to the parking space in front of 
	Cabin One. Mary walks along the porch, waits before the door 
	of Cabin One.

	Norman gets out of car, with suitcase, runs to the door, 
	opens it, pushes the door open, puts his hand in and switches 
	on a light. Mary goes into the cabin. Norman follows her.

	INT. CABIN ONE - (NIGHT)

	Norman places suitcase on bed, goes to the window, opens it.

				NORMAN
		Stuffy in here.
			(turns to her)
		Well... the mattress is soft and 
		there're hangers in the closet and... 
		stationary with "Bates' Motel" printed 
		on it in case you want to make your 
		friends back home envious... and... 
		the... over there....
			(he points to the 
			bathroom, fairly 
			blushes)

				MARY
		The bathroom.

				NORMAN
			(quickly, starting to 
			leave)
		I'll be in the office if you want 
		anything... just tap on the wall.

				MARY
		Thank you, Mr. Bates.

				NORMAN
		Norman Bates.

	He pauses at the door, gazes at her. She smiles.

				NORMAN
		You have something most girls never 
		have.

				MARY
		I have?

				NORMAN
		There's no name for it... But it's 
		something that, that puts a person 
		at ease.

				MARY
		Thank you. Again.

				NORMAN
			(not really a question)
		You're not going to go out again and 
		drive up to that diner, are you?

				MARY
		No.

				NORMAN
		Then will you do me a favor?
			(without waiting for 
			her response)
		Will you have supper here?  I was 
		just about to, myself... nothing 
		more than some sandwiches and a lot 
		of milk, but I'd like it if you'd 
		come up to the house and... I don't 
		set a fancy table but... the kitchen's 
		awful homey.

				MARY
		I'd like to.

				NORMAN
		All right, you get your dresses 
		hanging out and... change those wet 
		shoes, and I'll come for you soon as 
		it's ready...
			(starts out)
		...with my trusty umbrella.
			(he laughs a small 
			laugh, runs off)

	Mary closes the door, goes to suitcase, opens it, starts to 
	take out a dress. Her handbag is next to the suitcase. She 
	glances down into it, pauses, drops the dress, reaches into 
	the handbag, takes out the money-filled envelope, stares at 
	it, almost with regret, filled contemplates hiding it, decides 
	to, starts looking for a reasonable hiding place. She looks 
	about, at the closet, the drawers etc., realizes all such 
	places are obvious. Catching sight of the newspaper in her 
	bag, she hits on a solution. She opens the newspaper, places 
	the envelope within it, lock-folds the paper again and then 
	places it on the bedside table as if it were there for later 
	reading. She considers this for a moment, accepts it, goes 
	to her suitcase to start unpacking.

	Suddenly the quiet is shattered by the shrill, ugly sound of 
	a woman's voice, raised in anger.

				WOMAN'S VOICE
		No! I tell you no!

	Mary walks slowly to the window, realizing that the terrible 
	voice is coming from the house behind the cabins. CAMERA 
	FOLLOWS her to window and once there we see the light is 
	still on in the upstairs bedroom and the voice is coming 
	from that room. The rain has stopped and the moon is out.

				WOMAN'S VOICE
		I won't have you bringing strange 
		young girls in for supper...
			(an ugly, sneering 
			note creeps into the 
			voice)
		...by candlelight, I suppose, in the 
		cheap erotic fashion of young men 
		with cheap, erotic minds!

				NORMAN'S VOICE
		Mother, please...

				WOMAN'S VOICE
		And then what? After supper, music? 
		Whispers?

				NORMAN'S VOICE
		Mother, she's just a stranger...  
		hungry, and the weather's bad...

				WOMAN'S VOICE
			(mimicking cruelly)
		Mother, she's just a stranger!
			(hard, cruel again)
		As if men don't desire strangers, as 
		if... oh, I refuse to speak of 
		disgusting things because they disgust 
		me! You understand, Boy?

				WOMAN'S VOICE
			(pause)
		Go on, go tell her she'll not be 
		appeasing her ugly appetite with my 
		food... or my son! Or do I have to 
		tell her, cause you don't have the 
		guts? Huh, boy? You have the guts, 
		boy?

				NORMAN'S VOICE
			(blurted cut fury and 
			shame)
		Shut up! Shut up!

	There is the SOUND of a door closing in that room up there. 
	Mary has stood by the window, listening with mounting distress 
	and concern and sympathy. She turns her face away now, gazes 
	sadly at the little empty room.

	In a moment there is the SOUND of the house's front door 
	slamming shut. Mary turns, looks out the window.

	FROM MARY'S VIEWPOINT - (NIGHT)

	We see Norman coming down the path, carrying a napkin-covered 
	tray.

	INT. CABIN ONE - (NIGHT)

	Mary looks at him for a moment, then turns quickly, goes to 
	the door, opens it and goes out onto the porch.

	EXT. THE MOTEL PORCH - (NIGHT)

	Mary pauses outside the door, is about to start forward when 
	Norman comes round the building and walks along the porch, 
	past the office, stopping only when he is close to her. He 
	stares with painful embarrassment at the knowing look in her 
	eye.

				MARY
		I've caused you some trouble.

				NORMAN
		Mother...
			(a hollow little laugh, 
			an attempt at sardonic 
			humor)
		...what is the phrase... "she isn't 
		herself today"... I think that's it.

				MARY
			(looking at the tray)
		You shouldn't have bothered. I really 
		don't have that much of an appetite.

	Norman flinches, realizing she has heard his mother's 
	reference to Mary's appetite.

				NORMAN
		I'm sorry. I wish... people could 
		apologize for other people.

				MARY
		Don't worry about it.
			(a warm smile)
		But as long as you've made us supper, 
		we may as well eat it. Huh?

	She begins to back into her room. Norman starts to follow, 
	hesitates as he sees the total picture of an attractive young 
	woman and a motel room. Bringing down the tray of food, in 
	defiance of his mother's orders, is about the limit of his 
	defiance for one day. He cannot go into Mary's room.

				NORMAN
		It might be nicer... warmer in the 
		office.

	Without waiting for approval or disapproval, he turns, hurries 
	to the office. Mary looks after him, her face showing amused 
	sympathy, then follows.

	INT. THE MOTEL OFFICE - (NIGHT)

	Norman looks about, tray in hand, sees there is no reasonable 
	place to spread out a supper. He turns, sees Mary standing 
	in the doorway.

				NORMAN
		Eating in an office...
			(a rueful smile)
		...to officious, even for me. I have 
		the parlor behind this... if you'd 
		like.

	Mary nods. Norman walks on, behind the counter and into the 
	darkened parlor. Mary follows.

	INT. NORMAN'S PARLOR -(NIGHT)

	In the darkened room, lit only by the light from the office 
	spilling in, we see Norman placing the tray on a table. Mary 
	comes to the doorway, pauses. Norman straightens up, goes to 
	lamp, turns on the light.

	Mary is startled by the room. Even in the dimness of one 
	lamp, the strange, extraordinary nature of the room rushes 
	up at one. It is a room of birds. Stuffed birds, all over 
	the room, on every available surface, one even clinging to 
	the old fashioned fringed shade of the lamp. The birds are 
	of many varieties, beautiful, grand, horrible, preying. Mary 
	stares in awe and a certain fascinated horror.

	CLOSE UP - THE VARIOUS BIRDS TWO SHOT - MARY AND NORMAN

				NORMAN
		Please sit down. On the sofa.

	As Norman goes about spreading out the bread and ham and 
	pouring the milk, we follow Mary across the room. She studies 
	the birds as she walks, briefly examines a bookcase stacked 
	with books on the subject of "Taxidermy."

	CLOSE UP - THE BOOKS ON TAXIDERMY MED. CLOSE SHOT - MARY

	She notices, too, the paintings on the wall; nudes, primarily, 
	and many with a vaguely religious overtone.

	Finally Mary reaches the sofa, sits down, looks at the spread.

				MARY
		You're very... kind.

				NORMAN
		It's all for you. I'm not hungry.  
		Please go ahead.

	Mary begins to eat, her attitude a bit tense. She takes up a 
	small slice of ham, bites off a tiny bite, nibbles at it in 
	the manner of one disturbed and preoccupied.

	Norman gazes at her, at the tiny bite she has taken, smiles 
	and then laughs.

				NORMAN
		You eat like a bird.

				MARY
		You'd know, of course.

				NORMAN
		Not really. I hear that expression, 
		that one eats "like a bird," is really 
		a falsie, I mean a falsity, because 
		birds eat a tremendous lot.
			(A pause, then 
			explaining)
		Oh, I don't know anything about birds. 
		My hobby is stuffing things... 
		taxidermy. And I guess I'd just rather 
		stuff birds because...  well, I hate 
		the look of beasts when they're 
		stuffed, foxes and chimps and all... 
		some people even stuff dogs and 
		cats... but I can't... I think only 
		birds look well stuffed because 
		they're rather...  passive, to begin 
		with... most of them...

	He trails off, his exuberance failing in the rushing return 
	of his natural hesitancy and discomfort. Mary looks at him, 
	with some compression, smiles.

				MARY
		It's a strange hobby. Curious, I 
		mean.

				NORMAN
		Uncommon, too.

				MARY
		I imagine so.

				NORMAN
		It's not as expensive as you'd think. 
		Cheap, really. Needles, thread, 
		sawdust .. the chemicals are all 
		that cost anything.
			(He goes quiet, looks 
			disturbed)

				MARY
		A man should have a hobby.

				NORMAN
		It's more than a hobby... sometimes... 
		a hobby is supposed to pass the time, 
		not fill it.

				MARY
			(after a pause, softly)
		Is your time so empty?

				NORMAN
		Oh, no!
			(forcing brightness 
			again)
		I run the office, tend the cabins 
		and grounds, do little chores for 
		mother... the ones she allows I might 
		be capable of doing.

				MARY
		You go out... with friends?

				NORMAN
		Friends? Who needs friends.
			(Laughs, then with 
			gallows humor)
		A boy's best friend is his mother.
			(Stops laughing)
		You've never had an empty moment in 
		your whole life. Have you?

				MARY
		Only my share.

				NORMAN
		Where are you going? I don't mean to 
		pry...

				MARY
			(A wistful smile)
		I'm looking for a private island.

				NORMAN
		What are you running away from?

				MARY
			(Alert)
		Why do you ask that?

				NORMAN
		No. People never run away from 
		anything.
			(A pause)
		The rain didn't last very long.
			(Turning suddenly)
		You know what I think? I think we're 
		all in our private traps, clamped in 
		them, and none of us can ever climb 
		out. We scratch and claw... but only 
		at the air, only at each other, and 
		for all of it, we never budge an 
		inch.

				MARY
		Sometimes we deliberately step into 
		those traps.

				NORMAN
		I was born in mine. I don't mind it 
		anymore.

				MARY
		You should... mind it.

				NORMAN
		Oh I do... but I say I don't.
			(Laughs boyishly)

				MARY
			(Staring at him, 
			shaking her head 
			softly.)
		If anyone ever spoke to me, the way 
		I heard... The way she spoke to you, 
		I don't think I could ever laugh 
		again.

				NORMAN
			(Controlled resentment)
		Sometimes when she talks that way to 
		me I'd like to... curse her out and 
		leave her forever!
			(A rueful smile)
		Or at least, defy her.
			(A pause, a hopeless 
			shrug)
		But I couldn't. She's ill.

				MARY
		She sounded strong...

				NORMAN
		I mean... ill.
			(A pause)
		She had to raise me all by herself 
		after my dad died... I was only 
		five... and it must have been a 
		strain. Oh, she didn't have to go 
		out to work or anything, Dad left us 
		with a little something... anyway, a 
		few years ago... Mother met a man. 
		He talked her into building this 
		motel... We could have talked her 
		into anything... and when.  Well... 
		It was just too much for her when he 
		died, too... And the way he died... 
		Oh, it's nothing to talk about when 
		you're eating.
			(Pauses, smiles)
		Anyway, it was too much of a loss 
		for my mother... she had nothing 
		left.

				MARY
			(Critically)
		Except you.

				NORMAN
		A son is a poor substitute for a 
		lover.
			(Turns away as if in 
			distaste of the word)

				MARY
		Why don't you go away?

				NORMAN
		To a private island, like you?

				MARY
		No, not like me.

				NORMAN
		It's too late for me. And besides... 
		who'd look after her? She'd be alone 
		up there, the fire would go out... 
		damp and cold, like a grave. When 
		you love someone, you don't do that 
		to them, even if you hate them. Oh, 
		I don't hate her.  I hate... what 
		she's become. I hate... the illness.

				MARY
			(Slowly, carefully)
		Wouldn't it be better if you put her 
		in... someplace...

	She hesitates. Norman turns, slowly, looking at her with a 
	striking coldness.

				NORMAN
		An Institution? A madhouse?  People 
		always call a madhouse "someplace."
			(Mimicing coldly)
		Put her in Someplace!

				MARY
		I'm sorry... I didn't mean it to 
		sound uncaring...

				NORMAN
			(The coldness turning 
			to tight fury)
		What do you mean about caring?  Have 
		you ever seen one of those places? 
		Inside? Laughing and tears and cruel 
		eyes studying you... and my mother 
		there?  Why? has she harmed you?  
		She's as harmless as... one of these 
		stuffed birds.

				MARY
		I am sorry. I only felt... it seemed 
		she was harming you. I meant...

				NORMAN
			(High fury now)
		Well? You meant well?  People always 
		mean well, they cluck their thick 
		tongues and shake their heads and 
		suggest so very delicately that...

	The fury suddenly dies, abruptly and completely, and he sinks 
	back into his chair. There is a brief silence.

	Mary watches the troubled man, is almost physically pained 
	by his anguish.

				NORMAN
			(Quietly)
		I've suggested it myself. But I hate 
		to even think such a thing.  She 
		needs me... and it isn't...
			(Looks up with a 
			childlike pleading 
			in his eyes)
		...it isn't as if she were a maniac, 
		a raving thing... it's just that... 
		sometimes she goes a little mad. We 
		all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't 
		you?

				MARY
			(After a long 
			thoughtful pause)
		Yes, and just one time can be enough.
			(Rises)
		Thank you.

				NORMAN
			(Cheerfully, correcting)
		Thank you, Norman.

				MARY
		Norman.

				NORMAN
		You're not going to... to your room 
		already?

				MARY
		I'm very tired. And I'll have a long 
		drive tomorrow. All the way back to 
		Phoenix.

				NORMAN
		Phoenix?

				MARY
		I stepped into a private trap back 
		there -- and I want to go back and... 
		try to pull myself out.
			(Looking close at 
			Norman)
		Before it's too late for me, too.

				NORMAN
			(Looking at her)
		Why don't you stay a little while, 
		just for talking.

				MARY
		I'd like to, but...

				NORMAN
		Alright. I'll see you in the morning. 
		I'll bring you breakfast.  What time 
		will you...

				MARY
		Very early. Dawn.

				NORMAN
		Alright, Miss...
			(He has forgotten her 
			name)

				MARY
		Crane.

				NORMAN
		That's it.
			(He frowns, as if 
			bothered by not being 
			able to match the 
			name to the memory 
			of the name in the 
			registration book)

				MARY
		Good night.

	She goes out of the parlor. We see her, from Norman's 
	viewpoint, as she crosses the small office, goes out into 
	the night. Norman turns and looks at the table, and we see 
	his face now. It is bright with that drunken-like look of 
	determination and encouragement and like resolve. He starts 
	to clean up the table, pauses as he hears the closing of 
	Mary's door in the cabin next door.

	He holds still, listens. He goes into the office and looks 
	at the book.

	C.U. - THE NAME "SAMUELS"

	M.S. - NORMAN

	He goes back into the parlor with a mystified expression. 
	The sound of Mary moving about her room come over, soft 
	SOUNDS, somehow intimate in the night quiet. Norman turns 
	his ear from the direction of the SOUNDS, seems to be fighting 
	an impulse to listen, or more than listen.

	But slowly, he is forced to surrender to the impulse and, 
	resisting himself, he goes to the wall, presses the side of 
	his head against it. The SOUNDS come louder, as if we too 
	had our ear pressed against the wall. Now Norman looks at a 
	picture hanging on the far end of the wall he is leaning 
	against. Slowly he starts toward it.

	He reaches it, touches it, reluctantly lifts the small frame 
	off the wall.

	A tiny circle of light hits Norman's face, coming from the 
	hole in the wall behind the picture. This end of the room is 
	very dim and thus we are able to see clearly the light 
	striking Norman's face.

	We move close to Norman, extremely close, until his profile 
	fills the screen. The tiny spot of light hits his eye. See 
	the small hole through which the light comes. Norman peeps 
	through.

	NORMAN'S VIEWPOINT

	Through the hole we look into Mary's cabin, see Mary 
	undressing. She is in her bra and halfslip. She stoops over 
	a bit, places her hands behind her upper back, begins to 
	unhook her bra.

	NORMAN - ECU

	He watches as Mary removes her bra. We see his eye run up 
	and down the unseen figure of Mary.

	NORMAN'S VIEWPOINT

	Mary, just slipping into a robe, covering her complete nudity.

	NORMAN

	He turns from the hole, faces us for a moment, continues 
	turning until he can look out the small parlor window.

	We see, as he sees...

	THE HOUSE IN THE BACKGROUND

	NORMAN

	He turns his face away, quickly, resentfully. In his face we 
	see anger and anguish. And then resolve.

	Quickly, precisely, he rehangs the picture over the hole in 
	the wall, turns, starts out of the parlor. We see him go 
	through the office and out onto the porch, not even bothering 
	to close the door behind him.

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. THE MOTEL OFFICE PORCH - (NIGHT)

	Norman walking along the porch, in the direction of the big 
	house. Once on the path he pauses, looks up at the light in 
	the bedroom window, then pulls himself up, squares his 
	shoulders, strides manfully up the path.

	CAMERA follows behind him. He opens the door of the house, 
	enters. We see him pause at the foot of the stairway, look 
	up at the bedroom door just at the head of the stair. He 
	holds for a moment, and then his resolve and courage 
	evaporates. His shoulders slump, sadly, mournfully. He by-
	passes the stairs and slowly makes his way to the kitchen. 
	At the far end of the hall. He enters the kitchen, drops 
	wearily into a chair. After a moment, he stretches out a leg 
	and gently pushes the kitchen door closed.

							 CUT TO:

	INT. MARY'S MOTEL ROOM - (NIGHT)

	Mary is seated at the small desk, engrossed in figuring in a 
	small notebook. We see from these figures a calculation which 
	indicates her intention to make a restitution of the money 
	she has used of the forty thousand dollars. We see, too, her 
	bankbook. The paper reads thus: top figure, 40,000; directly 
	beneath it 500, the amount used for the new car; total after 
	subtraction, 39,500. In another spot we see a figure which 
	matches the balance in her bankbook; 624.00.

	Beneath this is the figure 500, and the amount after 
	subtraction, 124.00. She studies the figures, sighs, not 
	wearily but with a certain satisfaction, with the pleasure 
	that comes when one knows that at any cost one is going to 
	continue doing the right thing. After a moment she tears the 
	page out of the notebook and, rising, begins to rip it into 
	small pieces. She goes into the bathroom, drops the pieces 
	into the toilet bowl, flushes the toilet. Then she drops her 
	robe and steps into the tub and turns the shower on.

	INT. MARY IN SHOWER

	Over the bar on which hangs the shower curtain, we can see 
	the bathroom door, not entirely closed. For a moment we watch 
	Mary as she washes and soaps herself.

	There is still a small worry in her eyes, but generally she 
	looks somewhat relieved.

	Now we see the bathroom door being pushed slowly open.

	The noise of the shower drowns out any sound. The door is 
	then slowly and carefully closed.

	And we see the shadow of a woman fall across the shower 
	curtain. Mary's back is turned to the curtain. The white 
	brightness of the bathroom is almost blinding.

	Suddenly we see the hand reach up, grasp the shower curtain, 
	rip it aside.

							 CUT TO:

	MARY - ECU

	As she turns in response to the feel and SOUND of the shower 
	curtain being torn aside. A look of pure horror erupts in 
	her face. A low terrible groan begins to rise up out of her 
	throat. A hand comes into the shot. The hand holds an enormous 
	bread knife. The flint of the blade shatters the screen to 
	an almost total, silver blankness.

	THE SLASHING

	An impression of a knife slashing, as if tearing at the very 
	screen, ripping the film. Over it the brief gulps of 
	screaming. And then silence. And then the dreadful thump as 
	Mary's body falls in the tub.

	REVERSE ANGLE

	The blank whiteness, the blur of the shower water, the hand 
	pulling the shower curtain back. We catch one flicker of a 
	glimpse of the murderer. A woman, her face contorted with 
	madness, her head wild with hair, as if she were wearing a 
	fright-wig.  And then we see only the curtain, closed across 
	the tub, and hear the rush of the shower water. Above the 
	shower-bar we see the bathroom door open again and after a 
	moment we HEAR the SOUND of the front door slamming.

							 CUT TO:

	THE DEAD BODY

	Lying half in, half out of the tub, the head tumbled over, 
	touching the floor, the hair wet, one eye wide open as if 
	popped, one arm lying limp and wet along the tile floor.  
	Coming down the side of the tub, running thick and dark along 
	the porcelain, we see many small threads of blood. CAMERA 
	FOLLOWS away from the body, travels slowly across the 
	bathroom, past the toilet, out into the bedroom. As CAMERA 
	approaches the bed, we see the folded newspaper as Mary placed 
	it on the bedside table.

	CLOSE UP - THE NEWSPAPER

	beside the bed. The CAMERA now moves away over to the window 
	and looks up to the house, and as it gets there we HEAR, 
	coming from within the house, the SOUND of Norman's fearful, 
	shocked voice.

				NORMAN'S VOICE
		Mother! Oh God, what... blood, 
		blood... mother...!

	We cannot entirely distinguish these exclamations.

	After a moment or two of silence, Norman emerges from the 
	front door, dashes down the path toward the motel.

						QUICK CUT TO:

	EXT. THE PATH - (NIGHT)

	Norman is coming AT CAMERA, running head-on. He dashes into 
	an extreme close up and we see the terror and fear ripe in 
	his face. CAMERA PANS as Norman races past, holds as Norman 
	runs to the porch and quickly along it and directly to Mary's 
	room.

	INT. MARY'S CABIN - (NIGHT)

	Norman pauses a moment in the doorway, glances about the 
	room, hears the shower going, sees the bathroom door is open. 
	He goes to the bathroom, looks in, sees the body.

	Slowly, almost carefully, he raises his hands to his face, 
	covers his eyes, turns his face away. Then he crosses to the 
	window, looks out at the house. Shot is so angled that we 
	see the bedside table with the newspaper on it.

	After a moment, Norman moves from the window, sinks onto the 
	edge of the bed.

	FRESH ANGLE - BEHIND NORMAN

	Norman sitting on bed, the bathroom in b.g. of shot. We can 
	see only the hand of the dead girl, lying along the tile 
	floor. Norman presses his eyes, fights to find a way out of 
	his dilemma. Slowly, a kind of settling comes upon him, the 
	peace that comes with decision.

	Norman rises, goes to the window, looks out, and then, with 
	resolution, closes the window and draws the curtain across 
	it. Then he crosses to the front window, facing the porch, 
	and draws those curtains closed. Then he switches off the 
	bedroom light, leaving the room lit only by the spill from 
	the bathroom. He opens the front door, goes out.

	EXT. THE HOTEL PORCH - (NIGHT)

	Norman comes out of Mary's cabin, closes the door carefully 
	behind him, goes along the porch to his office, goes in. We 
	stay outside. Immediately, the "Vacancy" sign goes off, and 
	then the motel sign goes off. As CAMERA GOES closer to the 
	office, the lights within go off and we HEAR a closet door 
	opening and then the SOUND of a pail being picked up. Norman 
	comes out of office, closes door, looks cautiously about, 
	goes along porch, carrying pail with mop in it, goes into 
	Mary's cabin, closing the door after him.

	INT. MARY'S CABIN

	With the paper in the foreground, Norman enters. We can see 
	him in the dim spill of light. He pauses by the door, then 
	gathers his strength and goes into the bathroom. We HEAR him 
	set the pail on the tiled floor, and then we HEAR the shower 
	being turned off. And there is total silence. CAMERA MOVES 
	FORWARD so that we can see into bathroom.

	CAMERA is ANGLED that we see Norman only from the waist up. 
	Quickly and deftly he unhooks the shower curtain, emerges 
	with it into the bedroom. CAMERA PANS down and we see him 
	spread the shower curtain on the bedroom floor, just outside 
	the bathroom door. He spreads the curtain so that one end of 
	it comes up against the bathroom threshold and slightly over 
	and onto the tile floor. Again he goes into the bathroom and 
	CAMERA TILTS up so that we see only the upper half of Norman. 
	He works carefully, with his arms extended away from his 
	body, slowly pulls the dead body out of the tub, drags it 
	across the tile floor and onto the spread-out shower curtain 
	in the bedroom. Having arranged the body, he straightens up, 
	examines his hands, sees bloodstains on them. He returns to 
	the bathroom, goes to the hand-basin.

	CLOSE SHOT

	We see his hands being washed, see the bloodstains being 
	diluted and washed away by the gush of the faucet water.

	NORMAN

	We see Norman shake his hands free of the water, then turn 
	to the job of cleaning the bathroom.

	He places the pail in the tub, runs water into it, dips the 
	mop in, swabs the tile floor. With a towel he wipes off the 
	wall over the tub and the edges and sides of the tub and 
	even the shower curtain rod. Then he takes a second towel 
	and goes over the cleaned areas, carefully drying them.  
	Finally he rinses and squeezes out the mop, empties the pail, 
	cleans out the tub, and goes out into the bedroom.

	INT. MARY'S BEDROOM

	Norman steps carefully around the unseen body, crosses to 
	the desk, starts going through Mary's handbag, in search of 
	her car keys. He suddenly notices them lying on the desk, 
	where he'd thrown them after parking her car. He picks up 
	the keys, crosses the room, goes out.

	EXT. THE PORCH

	We see Norman pauses at the door, check cautiously, then 
	hurry across the porch and into Mary's car. He circle-turns 
	the car, so that its trunk is backed up to the turns porch, 
	directly opposite Mary's door, as close as it can go.

	Then he alights, goes to the trunk, opens it with the key 
	and, leaving the trunk lid raised, goes back into the cabin.

	INT. MARY'S ROOM

	From a raised angle, we see Norman bend down and begin to 
	wrap the shower curtain around the body. We see the edges of 
	the curtain as they are raised and laid down again. Then he 
	picks up the wrapped body, crosses to the door, uses his 
	foot to pull the door open, and, leaving the door open behind 
	him, goes quickly across the porch and gently lays the body 
	in the trunk. He closes the lid then, but does not lock it. 
	He comes back into the cabin, closes the door completely, 
	flicks on the light.

	Again the newspaper is in the foreground. For a moment he 
	pauses, closes his eyes against the realization of what he 
	is doing, then quickly pushes all thoughts away, continues 
	with his work. With the room lighted, he now proceeds to 
	gather up all Mary's articles and toss them into the suitcase. 
	He checks all drawers and the closet, gets down and checks 
	under bed and bureau, goes into the bathroom, checks that 
	room again, comes back into the bedroom, looks about 
	carefully, spots Mary's handbag, throws even that into the 
	suitcase, is finally satisfied that all traces of the girl 
	are gone from the room. Then he closes Mary's suitcase, picks 
	it up.

	With his free hand he picks up the pail, in which are the 
	mop and the used towels. He crosses to the door, switches 
	off the light with his shoulder, pulls open the door, starts 
	out.

	EXT. THE PORCH

	As Norman stands in the doorway, he is suddenly and blindingly 
	lit by the bright headlights of a passing car. The flash of 
	the lights and the SOUND of the SPEEDING CAR are over in a 
	flicker of a moment, but it takes a few seconds for Norman 
	to regain his former tense composure. Then he goes to the 
	car trunk, raises it with his foot, throws the suitcase and 
	the pail into it, slams it shut. He pauses a moment, then 
	realizes he has left the bathroom light on in Mary's cabin. 
	He returns to cabin. As he enters, his eye is caught by the 
	newspaper on the bedside table. He goes to it, takes the 
	newspaper, and looks once again into the bathroom. His glance 
	goes right over the toilet bowl.

	He turns out the lights, crosses the darkened cabin, goes 
	out onto the porch.

	He reopens the trunk, tosses in the newspaper and closes it. 
	He goes around and jumps into the car and starts away.

	We HOLD on the trunk, follow it for a while, then

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. THE SWAMP - (NIGHT)

	The car pulls away from a CLOSE ANGLE on the trunk and as 
	CAMERA HOLDS we see that we are now in a swamp area.

	It is quiet except for the irritating noises of night insects. 
	Norman stops the car at the very edge of the swamp, turns 
	off the lights, gets out, leaving door open. He looks at the 
	swamp, seems doubtful of its ability to swallow up the car, 
	realizes he has no choice. He leans into the car, releases 
	the emergency brake, starts to push. The front of the car 
	begins to roll into the swamp. Suddenly there is the LOW, 
	THROBBING SOUND of a motor. Norman freezes, listens.

	The SOUND grows louder and Norman realizes it is an airplane 
	flying overhead. The car is rolling quickly now. Norman jumps 
	away, slams the door shut, stands tense. The SOUND of the 
	plane overhead grows louder.

	Norman looks up.

	NORMAN'S VIEWPOINT - THE BLACK SKY

	We see no plane. The SOUND of the motor is beginning to 
	diminish.

						 CUT BACK TO:

	NORMAN

	We see the relief in his face. He looks at the car.

	More than two-thirds of it have already sunk into the swamp. 
	The trunk alone seems to hold poised above the sand and slime, 
	as if refusing to go the rest of the way. Norman begins to 
	panic, he steps dangerously close, pushes with his foot. And 
	slowly the car sinks, until finally it is gone and we hear 
	only the gentle plop of the swamp's final gulp, and see only 
	the small after-bubble, like a visual burp.

	Norman waits a moment, then begins stamping out the tire 
	marks, so obvious in the wet ground around the swamp.

	He stamps and drags his feet over the markings as we:

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	CLOSE UP NORMAN

	standing on the porch of the motel, leaning against a post. 
	He is staring out into the night, a look of guarded, casual 
	innocence on his face, as if he were taking one last moment 
	of peaceful night air before retiring. Then he glances down 
	and CAMERA follows his gaze. A hose is lying on the ground 
	outside Mary's cabin, its stream of water obliterating the 
	tire marks.

	After a moment, Norman's hand comes into shot, picks up hose, 
	places it in a new position. As CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see 
	that the water from the hose has erased and rearranged the 
	road markings so that it would be impossible to tell that a 
	car had been parked here.

	After a short wait, Norman goes to the hose-faucet, turns it 
	off, unscrews the hose. As he rolls the hose, he walks away 
	from the spot, past the office, heading for the path that 
	leads to the house. He goes up the path, pauses at the steps 
	of the house, tosses the curled hose onto the lawn, goes up 
	the steps and into the house. CAMERA FOLLOWS him in, PAUSES 
	as he pauses at the foot of the stairs. Norman goes up the 
	stairs.

	On the landing he stops. The door to his mother's room is 
	closed. Lying in a heap outside the door are a blood-stained 
	dress and a pair of elderly-woman's shoes. From an EXTREMELY 
	HIGH ANGLE, we look down on Norman as he bends to pick up 
	the stained dress and shoes.

	He rolls the shoes into the dress, tucks the small, neat 
	bundle under his arm, and starts down the stairs, heading 
	for the basement.

	EXT. A LONG SHOT OF THE OLD HOUSE - (NIGHT)

	It stands silhouetted against the sky. There is a long wait. 
	Then, slowly, a curl of smoke comes out of the chimney.

							 FADE OUT:

							 FADE IN

	INT. BACK ROOM OF SAM'S HARDWARE STORE IN FAIRVALE - (DAY)

	Sam is seated at his desk, writing a letter. Sequence

	begins with CAMERA IN CLOSE, over Sam's shoulder, and we can 
	read as mush as he has written of the letter. The letterhead 
	reads "Sam Loomis - Hardware," and the letter reads: "Dearest 
	right-as-always Mary: I'm sitting in this tiny back room 
	which isn't big enough for both of us, and suddenly it looks 
	big enough for both of us. So what if we're poor and cramped 
	and miserable, at least we'll be happy! If you haven't come 
	to your senses, and still want to...

	CAMERA begins PULLING AWAY as Sam turns the sheet of paper 
	over, continues backing away out of the small back room and 
	heads, backwards, down the corridor, we see a young clerk, 
	BOB SUMMERFIELD, Sam's assistant, standing behind the counter, 
	a look of handsome patience on his face. He is waiting on a 
	meticulous, elderly woman customer, who is holding and 
	examining a large can of insecticide. As CAMERA PASSES:

				WOMAN CUSTOMER
		...They tell you what its ingredients 
		are and how it's guaranteed to 
		exterminate any insect in the world, 
		but they do not tell you whether or 
		not it's painless. And I say insect 
		or man, death should always be 
		painless.

	CAMERA, by this has reached the front door of the hardware 
	store and we now see a girl standing just inside the door. 
	She is an attractive girl with a rather definite manner, a 
	look of purposefulness. She carries a handbag and a small 
	overnight case. She is Mary's sister, LILA CRANE.

	Bob Summerfield has noticed Lila, smiles brightly at her, 
	gives her an I'll-be-with-you-in-a-moment nod.

	Lila starts to walk toward the counter, never taking her 
	eyes off Bob. As she approaches, she asks quietly:

				LILA
		Sam?

				SUMMERFIELD
		You want to see Sam?

				LILA
		Sam Loomis.

				SUMMERFIELD
			(yelling toward back 
			room)
		Sam! Lady wants to see you!

	Lila looks to the back room. The woman customer goes on 
	worriedly examining the fine print of the insecticide can. 
	Sam comes to the door of his room, pauses, looks at Lila a 
	moment, starts toward her, his expression indicating that he 
	does not know her. Lila studies him with a quiet, worried 
	expression.

				SAM
		Yes?

				LILA
		May I talk to you?

				SAM
			(a bit mystified)
		Sure...

	Lila glances at the customer and the clerk, turns, starts 
	toward the front of the store. Sam holds a moment, then 
	follows. As he reaches her, she turns, her eyes studying him 
	intently as she says:

				LILA
		I'm Mary's sister.

				SAM
		Lila.

				LILA
			(quickly)
		Is Mary here?

	Sam is mystified, and is also aware of the worried, hostile 
	expression on Lila's face. He studies her for a quiet moment. 
	Behind them is a display of various size carving knives.

				SAM
		Is something wrong?

				LILA
		I want to know if my sister is here.

				SAM
		Here?

				LILA
		With you.

				SAM
		Where?

				LILA
		I don't know where. In your store, 
		somewhere in your town... anywhere.

				SAM
		What's the matter?

				LILA
		Don't you know?

	As Sam is about to speak, the Woman Customer comes sailing 
	past, speaking as she goes and wearing a satisfied smile.

				WOMAN CUSTOMER
		All I can do is hope if it isn't 
		painless, it's quick!

	She speaks "quick" with a kind of delicious bite, nods 
	happily, goes on out of the store. Sam is now staring 
	apprehensively at Lila.

				SAM
		What should I know?

				LILA
		To begin with, where Mary is. Do 
		you?

				SAM
		No. I take it you don't either?
			(As Lila shakes her 
			head)
		How long?

				LILA
		Last Friday. She left work, and 
		home... I was in Tucson over the 
		weekend... I haven't heard from her, 
		not even a phone call.

				SAM
		And you thought she'd come up here, 
		to me? If she had, what reason would 
		she have for not calling you?

				LILA
		A good reason, I suppose.

				SAM
			(Slightly exasperated)
		Well what do you think, we eloped or 
		something? Or we're living in sin 
		and...

				LILA
		Mr. Loomis, you're so busy being 
		defensive that you haven't even 
		reacted to the most serious fact of 
		all. Mary is missing.

				SAM
		I was getting to that!

				LILA
		What do you know about it?

				SAM
		Nothing! You're putting me on the 
		defensive.

				LILA
		Look, if you two are in this thing 
		together, I don't care, it's none of 
		my business... But I want to see 
		Mary. I want her to tell me she's 
		all right and it's none of my 
		business. Then I'll go back to Phoenix 
		and...

	She stops, the anxiety and fear building up in her, her eyes 
	beginning to fill with worried tears. Sam studies her for a 
	moment, then turns and calls:

				SAM
		Bob? Run out and get yourself some 
		lunch.

				SUMMERFIELD
		It's okay, Sam, I brought it with 
		me.

				SAM
		Run out and eat it.

	Bob gets the message, goes out through the back way.

	Sam goes closer to Lila, speaks with soft seriousness.

				SAM
		What thing?

				LILA
		Huh?

				SAM
		What thing could we be in together?

				LILA
			(A pause)
		I hate tears.
			(Takes out hankie)

				SAM
		Is Mary... in trouble?

				LILA
		Yes.

				SAM
		Well why didn't she come to me...  
		call me...?

				LILA
		Not that kind...
			(Almost a smile)
		You men and your egos.

				SAM
			(Seriously)
		Never mind my ego. Let's talk about 
		Mary.

	Their attention is distracted by a man who has strolled 
	quietly into the room. He ignores them, walks past them, 
	goes behind the counter, takes down a sign reading "CLOSED 
	FOR LUNCH," walks back to the door, closes door, hangs the 
	sign across the door window, locks the door, turns to Sam 
	and Lila, folds his arms, smiles a particularly unfriendly 
	smile.

				ARBOGAST
		Let's all talk about Mary.

				SAM
		Who are you, friend?

				ARBOGAST
		Milt Arbogast, Private Investigator.
			(To Lila)
		Where is she, Miss Crane?

				LILA
		I don't know.

				ARBOGAST
		Wouldn't have been able to tail you 
		if you did.

				SAM
		What's your interest?

				ARBOGAST
		Money.

	There is a moment's silence and then, unable to tolerate the 
	sudden frightening happenings, Sam explodes.

				SAM
		Somebody better tell me what's going 
		on and tell me fast! I can take so 
		much and then...

				ARBOGAST
			(Interrupting calmly)
		Your girl friend stole forty thousand 
		dollars.

	Sam looks at Arbogast in utter shock and in that state asks 
	one of those seemingly ridiculous questions.

				SAM
		Why?

				ARBOGAST
			(An almost amused 
			smile)
		Must've needed it.

				SAM
		What are you talking about?
			(To Lila)
		What is this?

				LILA
		She was supposed to bank it, on 
		Friday, for her boss. She didn't.

	And no one has seen her since.

				ARBOGAST
			(Looking at Sam)
		Someone has seen her. Someone always 
		sees a girl with forty thousand 
		dollars.
			(To Sam)
		She is your girl friend, isn't she?

				LILA
		Sam, they don't want to prosecute, 
		they just want the money back. It 
		was all in cash...

				ARBOGAST
			(Correcting with 
			Cassidy's word)
		Casharoonie!

				LILA
		Sam, if she's here...

				SAM
		She isn't!

	A real look of anguish comes into Lila's face. And Arbogast 
	studies it, then speaks.

				ARBOGAST
		You came up here on a hunch, Miss 
		Crane? Nothing more? No phone call... 
		from him, or from your sister herself?

				LILA
			(wearily)
		Not even a hunch. Just hope.

				ARBOGAST
		With a little checking, I could get 
		to believe you.

				LILA
			(anxiously)
		I don't care if you do or... I want 
		to see Mary... before she gets in 
		any deeper...

				SAM
		Did you check in Phoenix... 
		hospitals... maybe she had an 
		accident... a hold-up...

				ARBOGAST
		She was seen leaving town in her 
		car. Seen by her very victims, I 
		might add.

				SAM
			(after a moment)
		I don't believe it.
			(to Lila, slowly)
		Do you?

				LILA
			(a thoughtful pause)
		Yes... I just... did. The moment 
		they told me...

				SAM
		You might have doubted for say five 
		minutes or so, Sister.

	Lila turns from Sam, a flush of guilt and regret in her face. 
	Arbogast looks at her, quiet sympathetically.

				ARBOGAST
		We're always quickest to doubt people 
		who have a record for being honest.  
		I think she's here, Miss Crane. Where 
		there's a boyfriend...
			(Trails off, smiles 
			encouragingly)
		She won't be back there among the 
		nuts and bolts... but she'll be in 
		this town... somewhere. I'll find 
		her.

	He nods, takes down the closed-for-lunch sign, sails it to 
	the counter, opens door, goes out into the street.

	After a quiet moment:

				LILA
		I just listened... and believed 
		everything they told me. 'She stole 
		the money.' 'We don't want to get 
		her in trouble.' 'No don't bring the 
		police in'...

				SAM
		It was her boss' idea not to report 
		it to the police?

				LILA
		No. The man whose money she... he 
		talked so loud and fast, and I... I 
		should've called the police.

				SAM
		He must have had a darn good reason 
		for wanting them kept out of it...  
		All that cash...

				LILA
		I ought to call the police right 
		now!

				SAM
		No.

				LILA
		Why not? Sam, is she hiding here?  
		Are you two planning to go away with 
		the money?

				SAM
		How could I go away? I'm in debt up 
		to my...
			(Smiles at the 
			incongruity of his 
			reply, then goes 
			serious)
		If she did steal that money...  It's 
		hard to believe she did because it's 
		hard to see why she would. Unless 
		she had some wild idea that it would 
		help me... us...

				LILA
		She haven't even called you?

				SAM
		I didn't see her... and I didn't 
		hear from her! Believe that!

				LILA
		I need to... I need to believe 
		something. This is the first time 
		I've ever come up against anything I 
		couldn't... understand.

				SAM
		You've led a charmed life.

				LILA
		No. I just think... anything can be 
		explained. But Mary, doing a thing 
		like this... I don't know how to 
		handle...

				SAM
		Maybe we can handle it together.
			(He smiles 
			encouragingly)

				LILA
			(A rueful shrug)
		I came flying up here expecting to 
		get some explanation... for all I 
		know, she may be trying to get in 
		touch with me, at home. I'd better 
		go home.

				SAM
			(A thoughtful pause)
		I think she'll contact me if she 
		contacts anybody. Why don't you stay 
		here. When she shows up... or calls... 
		be here.

				LILA
			(A long study, her 
			suspicion of him 
			evaporating)
		You want me to stay here?

				SAM
		She'll need both of us.

				LILA
			(considers, then:)
		Where... can I stay?

				SAM
			(brightly)
		First rate hotel, fifty yards up the 
		street. Come on.
			(as he reaches for 
			the closed-for-lunch 
			sign)
		After we check you in we'll go to 
		the drugstore and get you a sandwich. 
		Then we'll come back here... and 
		wait.

	He hangs the sign on the door, ushers Lila out, closes door 
	behind him.

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. STREET - (DAY)

	They emerge from the store and walk along to the hotel.  As 
	they enter, Arbogast is in the act of taking over a white 
	Ford sedan from a rental car man. They glance at him and he 
	returns a cynical look.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. HOTEL - (DAY)

	Outside another hotel we see Arbogast alight from the white 
	car and go into new hotel.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - (DAY)

	The white car speeding along the highway.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. NEW MOTEL - (DAY)

	Arbogast going into the office - we see the sign above him.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (DAY)

	A high shot showing the freeway and Bates house and motel on 
	the side old highway. A pause and then across the bottom of 
	the picture a white car speeds by on the freeway.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. HOTEL - (DUSK)

	Another Hotel. Arbogast goes in.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (DAY)

	The white car speeding along the freeway again going in the 
	opposite direction to last time. Norman, a tiny figure, is 
	seen going up the steps to his mother's house.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. BOARDING HOUSE - (DAY)

	Arbogast's search is getting down in the scale. This is an 
	entrance to a cheesy boarding house. "Rooms to Rent," etc. 
	He looks at his list and then goes in.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (DAY)

	The white car goes by on the freeway again.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. ROOMING HOUSE - (DAY)

	Arbogast goes in.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (TWILIGHT)

	Heavy traffic on the freeway. A beat or two - again the white 
	car. It slows up opposite the distant motel. It makes a turn 
	and goes back out of scene. A pause and it reappears on the 
	old road and slowly makes its way toward the Bates' Motel.

	EXT. THE BATES' HOUSE AND MOTEL - (TWILIGHT)

	We now see Norman. He has brought out an old rocking chair 
	and has placed it on the office porch and is sitting hunched 
	in it. And he is darning one of his own socks. CAMERA HOLDS. 
	Beyond the porch, and Norman, we see the old house and can 
	barely make out, in the twilight dimness, the figure of his 
	mother seated at the window. Here, too, there is that quality 
	of quiet peace surrounded by a vague foreboding.

	Now Norman looks up at the SOUND of the approaching car.

	And continues looking as the car comes to a stop and Arbogast 
	gets out. Arbogast gives the place a quick once-over, gazes 
	at Norman, starts forward. In his steps and manner there is 
	that bored, routine-logged quality of a man who has seen too 
	many motels and asked question of too many hotel managers 
	over too short a period of time.

	Norman rises as Arbogast comes forward.

				NORMAN
			(shoving sock in his 
			pocket)
		I always forget to put the sign on, 
		but we do have vacancy.
			(Cheerfully)
		Twelve in fact. Twelve cabins, twelve 
		vacancies.

				ARBOGAST
			(pleasantly)
		In the past two days I've been to so 
		many motels, my eyes are bleary with 
		neon. This is the first one that 
		looked like it was hiding from the 
		world at large.

				NORMAN
		I don't really forget the sign, it 
		just doesn't seem... any use.
			(Points)
		This used to be the main highway.
			(Starts for office)
		Want to register, please?

				ARBOGAST
		Sit down. I don't want to trouble 
		you, just want to ask...

				NORMAN
		No trouble. Today's linen day. I 
		change all the beds once a week, 
		whether they've been used or not... 
		dampness. I hate the smell of 
		dampness.
			(Opening office door)
		It's such a dank smell.

	Norman is holding the door open, so Arbogast walks in.

	Norman follows.

	INT. MOTEL OFFICE - (TWILIGHT)

	Norman switches on the overhead light, starts for the linen 
	closet, suddenly pauses, turns, studies Arbogast, who has 
	remained standing by the door.

				NORMAN
		You out to buy a motel?

				ARBOGAST
		No.

				NORMAN
		Oh. I thought... you said you'd been 
		to so many in two days...  What was 
		it you wanted to ask?

				ARBOGAST
		I'm looking for a missing person.
			(takes out and opens 
			wallet and extends 
			it as he speaks)
		My name's Arbogast, private 
		investigator...
			(takes back wallet 
			when Norman doesn't 
			look at it)
		Trying to trace a young girl who's 
		been missing almost a week. From 
		Phoenix.
			(A look at Norman's 
			frightened expression)
		It's a private matter... family wants 
		to forgive her...
			(smiles)
		She isn't in trouble.

				NORMAN
			(forcing a smile)
		I didn't think the police went 
		searching for people who weren't in 
		trouble.

				ARBOGAST
		I'm not the police.

				NORMAN
		Oh.

	He waits a moment, then opens closet, starts counting out 
	sheets and pillow cases, keeps his back to Arbogast.

	Arbogast takes a photograph out of his pocket, talks as he 
	crosses to Norman.

				ARBOGAST
		We have reason to believe she came 
		this way... might have stopped in 
		this area...
			(extends photograph, 
			which Norman doesn't 
			glance at)
		Did she stop here?

				NORMAN
		No. No one has stopped here in 
		weeks...

				ARBOGAST
		Mind looking at the picture before 
		committing yourself?

				NORMAN
		Committing myself to what? You sure 
		talk like a Policeman.

				ARBOGAST
		Look at the picture. Please.

	Norman glances, briefly, turns away, lifts sheets and pillow 
	cases off the shelf holds them close, almost protectively.

				NORMAN
		No. At least I don't recall.

				ARBOGAST
		She might have used an alias. Mary 
		Crane's the real name, but she 
		might've registered...

				NORMAN
			(interrupting)
		I don't even bother with guests 
		registering any more... I mean, little 
		by little, you drop the formalities.
			(more relaxed, because 
			Arbogast is listening 
			with a pleasant smile)
		I shouldn't even bother to change 
		the linen. I guess habits die hard. 
		Which reminds me...

	He goes to the wall, flips a light switch.

				NORMAN
		The vacancy sign. Just in case.

	We had a couple the other night, said if the sign hasn't 
	been on they'd have thought this was an old deserted mining 
	town or something.

				ARBOGAST
		Now there's a couple even remarking 
		about your sign, and see how easily 
		you forgot them?

				NORMAN
		What?

				ARBOGAST
		You thought no one has stopped here 
		in weeks. Now, try to remember if 
		this girl...

				ARBOGAST
			(A pause, a study)
		Maybe she even signed the register... 
		because habits die hard. Let's check 
		it, huh?

	Norman says nothing. Arbogast goes to the desk, pulls the 
	registry book around, flips back a page or two.

	Norman simply stares at the man. Arbogast hums faintly, 
	pleasantly, as he examines the pages. Then:

				ARBOGAST
		Yes sir! Marie Samuels.  Interesting 
		alias.

	He takes a slip of paper out of his pocket, lays it beside 
	the signature in the registry book, all the while nodding 
	and smiling nicely, as if this discovery will make Norman as 
	happy as it is making him.

				ARBOGAST
		Don't know where she got "Marie," 
		but "Samuels" figures. Her boy 
		friend's name is Sam.
			(Turns to Norman, the 
			smile gone)
		Was she in disguise? Or do you want 
		to check the picture again?

				NORMAN
		I didn't lie to you. I just have 
		trouble keeping track of... time.

	Arbogast has reached him, the picture extended. Norman looks 
	dutifully at it.

				NORMAN
		It was raining and her hair didn't 
		look like that... damped out, I guess.

				ARBOGAST
		Tell me all about her.

				NORMAN
		She arrived kind of late, wet and 
		hungry and she was very tired and 
		went right to bed and left early.

				ARBOGAST
		How early?

				NORMAN
		Very early. Dawn.

				ARBOGAST
		Of which morning?

				NORMAN
		The following morning. Sunday.

				ARBOGAST
		No one met her?

				NORMAN
		No.

				ARBOGAST
		Or arrived with her.

				NORMAN
		No.

				ARBOGAST
		She didn't call anyone? Even locally?

				NORMAN
		No.

				ARBOGAST
		You didn't spend the whole night 
		with her did you?

				NORMAN
		No! Of all...

				ARBOGAST
		How do you know she didn't make a 
		call?

				NORMAN
		She was tired. She said she had a 
		long drive ahead of her, in the 
		morning... Yes, now I'm remembering 
		very clearly because I'm picturing. 
		When you make a picture of the moment 
		in your mind, you can remember every 
		detail. She was sitting back there, 
		no she was standing up, with some 
		sandwich still in her hand, and she 
		said she had to drive a long way.

				ARBOGAST
		Back where?

				NORMAN
		What do you mean?

				ARBOGAST
		You said she was sitting "back there," 
		or standing rather...

				NORMAN
		Oh. My private parlor. She had an 
		awful hunger... so I made her some 
		supper. And then she went to bed and 
		left in the morning. I didn't even 
		see her leave.

				ARBOGAST
		How did she pay you?

				NORMAN
		What?

				ARBOGAST
		Cash or check? For the cabin...

				NORMAN
		Cash.

				ARBOGAST
		And when she left, she never came 
		back.

				NORMAN
		Why should she? I'm sorry, I have 
		work to do, Mr... if you don't mind...

				ARBOGAST
		I do mind. If it don't jell, it ain't 
		aspic!
			(smiles)
		This ain't jelling.

				NORMAN
		I don't know what you expect me to 
		know about... people come and go...

				ARBOGAST
		She isn't still here, is she?

				NORMAN
		Not at all!

				ARBOGAST
		Suppose I wanted to search the cabins, 
		all twelve... would I need a warrant?

				NORMAN
			(as if pleasantly 
			exasperated)
		Look, if you won't believe me, go 
		ahead. You can help me make beds if 
		you like.
			(laughs, shakes his 
			head)
		Come on.

	He starts out. Arbogast pauses, momentarily confused by the 
	young man's openness.

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. THE MOTEL PORCH - (NIGHT)

	Norman walks down the porch, hesitates before Cabin One, 
	walks on a bit toward Cabin Two, stops, turns to see if 
	Arbogast is following. Arbogast has come out onto the porch, 
	but is not following. He has walked to the opposite end of 
	the porch and is standing at its edge, looking up at the old 
	house. The upstairs window is in darkness. The neon of the 
	Vacancy and Motel signs splash strange light over the scene.

				NORMAN
		Change your mind?

	Arbogast does not reply. Norman becomes apprehensive, starts 
	to Arbogast, forcing himself to remain calm and cheerful.

				NORMAN
		I guess I've got one of those faces 
		you can't help believing.

				ARBOGAST
			(to Norman, but 
			continuing to stare 
			at the house)
		Anyone at home?

				NORMAN
		I live there. Alone.

				ARBOGAST
		Someone is sitting in that window.

				NORMAN
		My mother.

	Arbogast turns, gazes seriously at him.

				NORMAN
		She's... ill. Confined to her room. 
		It's practically living alone.

				ARBOGAST
			(after a pause)
		If this girl Mary Crane were here, 
		you'd have no reason to hide her 
		would you?

				NORMAN
		Of course not.

				ARBOGAST
		If she paid you well?

				NORMAN
		Now, look...!

				ARBOGAST
		Or if she had you say... gallantly 
		protecting her... you wouldn't be 
		fooled... you'd know she was just 
		using you. Wouldn't you?

				NORMAN
		I'm not a fool! And I'm not capable 
		of being fooled! Not even by women!

				ARBOGAST
		I didn't mean that as a slur on your 
		manhood. I'm sorry.

				NORMAN
			(disturbed now)
		That's all right. maybe she could 
		have fooled me.  But...
			(a rueful smile)
		She didn't fool my mother.

				ARBOGAST
		Your mother met her?
			(quickly)
		Can I talk to your mother?

				NORMAN
		No. I told you, she's confined...

				ARBOGAST
		Just for a moment. She might have 
		picked up a hint you'd miss.

				ARBOGAST
		Sick old women are sharp. Come on, I 
		won't disturb...

				NORMAN
		No! Just no!  I have one of those 
		breaking points like any other man, 
		believe it or not, and I'm near it.
		There's just so much pushing I can 
		take and I think...

				ARBOGAST
		All right!
			(starts away, toward 
			his car, pauses)
		Might save me a lot of leg-work if I 
		could just talk to your mother.  But 
		I'd need a warrant for that, won't 
		I?

	Norman does not respond. Arbogast gets in his car, starts 
	the motor. Norman looks up, studies the man's face, his own 
	face showing apprehension. Arbogast backs the car around 
	very slowly, his gaze divided between the old house and the 
	lighted window of Cabin Two. As he turns the car out, his 
	headlights light up the porch.

	Norman stands, watching him drive away.

	EXT. PHONE BOOTH - (NIGHT)

	The car pulls up and Arbogast gets out of car, leaving motor 
	running. As he starts to walk across the highway, CAMERA 
	PULLS AWAY and we

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. HIGHWAY WITH TELEPHONE BOOTH - (NIGHT)

	Arbogast gets to the phone booth, enters. CAMERA STARTS 
	FORWARD, and we see Arbogast remove a small notebook from 
	his pocket, check on a number, drop a dime in the slot and 
	dial this number. As we reach phone booth,

							 CUT TO:

				ARBOGAST
			(into phone)
		Miss Crane, please.
			(listens)
		She leave a number?
			(listens)
		Thanks.
			(hangs up, dials again, 
			waits)
		Lila there, Mr. Loomis? Arbogast.
			(waits)
		Lila? Look, this isn't much, but it 
		might make you feel a little better. 
		Mary was up here. Spent last Saturday 
		night at Bates'  Motel, out here on 
		the old highway.
			(listens)
		Young fellow runs it, said Mary spent 
		the night, left, period!
			(listens)
		I did question him, believe me. I 
		think I got all there was to get.  
		Just have to try to pick up the scent 
		from here.
			(listens)
		Well... maybe that's because I don't 
		feel entirely satisfied.  He's got a 
		sick old mother, confined type, and 
		I think she saw Mary and talked to 
		her. Shame, too... confined old women 
		love to talk to strangers.
			(listens)
		I was, but I think I'll go back to 
		the motel, first.
			(listens)
		No, you stay put, Lila. With Loomis. 
		I should be back in an hour.
			(listens)
		All right. And Lila... You'll be 
		happy to know what I think. I think 
		our friend Sam Loomis didn't even 
		know Mary was here.
			(smiles)
		See you in an hour. Or less.

	He hangs up, gets out of the phone booth.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)

	A distant view of the House and Motel. There is a light on 
	in the house. There is also a light on in Norman's office. 
	We see Norman emerge from his office and move along the porch 
	toward the distant cabins. He carries sheets on his arm. He 
	goes into the last cabin and switches the light on. Into the 
	foreground the hood of the white Ford enters the scene and 
	stops. Arbogast gets out. He goes over to the Motel office.

	EXT. MOTEL OFFICE - (NIGHT)

	Arbogast goes in.

	INT. OFFICE - (NIGHT)

	Arbogast looks around the empty office and calls.

				ARBOGAST
		Bates!

	He goes over to the door to the parlor and enters. He looks 
	around the bird-ridden room. He stops short as he sees:

	C.U. - THE OLD SAFE IN THE CORNER

	C.U. - ARBOGAST

	goes over to it. He finds it unlocked. With a quick, cautious 
	look around he opens it.

	C.U. - THE EMPTY SAFE

	C.U. - ARBOGAST

	straightens up and goes out.

	EXT. MOTEL OFFICE - (NIGHT)

	Arbogast comes out and looks off. He sees:

	THE LAST LIT CABIN

	The door ajar.

	C.U. - ARBOGAST - (NIGHT)

	would go along but he stops with a new thought. He turns 
	around and looks off.

	L.S. - THE OLD HOUSE FROM HIS VIEWPOINT - (NIGHT)

	C.U. - ARBOGAST

	comes to a decision. He goes off.

	L.S. ARBOGAST

	dashes up the stone steps to the House.

	MEDIUM SHOT

	CAMERA HOLDS as Arbogast goes up onto the porch. The house 
	is dark within except, as we can now see, for a faint spill 
	of light in the foyer, light which comes from the upstairs 
	hall. Arbogast goes to the living room window, looks in, 
	sees only darkness. Then he goes to the door, listens for 
	along moment, hears nothing.

	Very slowly, almost painfully, he turns the knob of the door 
	and pushes gently with his arm and shoulder. The door begins 
	to open. He allows it to open just enough for him to slip 
	through and into the foyer.

							 CUT TO:

	INT. FOYER OF BATES' HOUSE - (NIGHT)

	Arbogast gradually eases the door closed, stands against it, 
	waiting. He looks up in the direction of the light, sees no 
	one. The door at the head of the stairs is closed. Arbogast 
	listens, holds his breath, hears what could be human sounds 
	coming from upstairs but realizes these could also be the 
	sounds of an old house after sunset. After a careful wait, 
	he crosses to the stairs, starts up, slowly, guardedly, 
	placing a foot squarely on each step to test it for squeaks 
	or groans before placing his full weight on it. CAMERA 
	FOLLOWS, remaining on floor level but TRAVELLING ALONG the 
	stairway as Arbogast makes his way up.

							 CUT TO:

	EXTREMELY HIGH ANGLE

	INT. STAIRWAY AND UPSTAIRS LANDING

	We see Arbogast coming up the stairs. And now we see, too, 
	the door of the mother's room, opening, carefully and slowly.

	As Arbogast reaches the landing, the door opens and the mother 
	steps out, her hand raises high, the blade of an enormous 
	knife flashing.

	C.U. - A BIG HEAD OF AN ASTONISHED ARBOGAST

	The knife slashes across his cheek and neck. Blood spurts. 
	The sudden attack throws him off balance. He stumbles back 
	and staggers down the whole of the staircase. He frantically 
	gropes for the balustrade as he goes backwards down the 
	stairs. The CAMERA FOLLOWS him all the way. A wicked knife 
	keeps thrusting itself into the foreground. As he collapses 
	at the bottom, the black head and shoulders of Mrs. Bates 
	plunges into the foreground as the CAMERA MOVES IN to contain 
	the raising and descending murder weapon.

							FADE OUT

							 FADE IN

	INT. BACK ROOM OF HARDWARE STORE - (NIGHT)

	Lila is sitting close by the phone, and looks as if she hasn't 
	moved from it in the last hour. Sam is pacing, occasionally 
	stopping at the window, glancing out, pacing again. The ash 
	tray close to Lila is filled.

	There is a thick atmosphere of smoke, tension and weariness 
	in the small, otherwise cozy room.

				SAM
			(at window, quietly)
		Sometimes Saturday night has a lonely 
		sound. Ever notice, Lila?

				LILA
			(unable to keep up 
			small talk)
		Sam. He said an hour. Or less.

				SAM
		It's been three.

				LILA
		Are we just going to go on sitting 
		here?

				SAM
			(suddenly cheerful)
		He'll be back. Let's sit still and 
		hang on, okay?

				LILA
		You have an awfully nice habit, Sam.

				SAM
		Hundreds! Which one is your pet?

				LILA
		Whenever I start contemplating the 
		panic button, your back straightens
		up and your eyes get that God-looks-
		out-for-everybody look and... I feel 
		better.

				SAM
		I feel better when you feel better.

				LILA
			(a pause - then she 
			rises)
		Where's the old highway?

				SAM
		You want to run out there, bust in 
		on Arbogast and the sick old lady, 
		shake her up and maybe spoil 
		everything Arbogast's been building 
		for the last three hours.

				LILA
		Yes.

				SAM
		That wouldn't be a wise thing to do.

				LILA
		Patience doesn't run in our family.
		Sam, I'm going out there!

				SAM
		Arbogast said...

				LILA
		An hour! Or less!

	Sam stares at her, frowns in concern over her very real 
	anxiety, goes to the phone, dials operator.

				SAM
			(into phone)
		Got the number of the motel out on 
		the old highway? Bates, I think.
			(waits)

				LILA
		Sam! Why call when we can go?

				SAM
		And maybe pass Arbogast on the road?
			(into phone)
		Thanks.

	He presses down the receiver, releases it, dials Bates'

	Motel. The faint other-end ringing tones can be heard, 
	repeatedly, annoyingly. He waits.

				SAM
			(to Lila)
		Probably on his way back right now.

				LILA
		Sam, I'm going.

				SAM
			(hangs up and picks 
			up his jacket)
		You'll never find it.

	He starts for the door. Lila follows after him into the store.

	INT. STORE

	He pauses halfway down, turns, puts his hands on her arms.

				SAM
		Stay here.

				LILA
		Why can't I go out there with you?

				SAM
			(looks at her)
		I don't know...
			(he collects himself)
		One of us has to be here in case 
		Arbogast's on the way.

				LILA
			(nervously)
		Just wait here?

				SAM
			(a warm smile)
		Contemplate your... panic button.

	He hurries down to the street door and out. CAMERA HOLDS on 
	Lila as she stares after Sam. As she stands alone in the 
	darkened store, all the hardware seems to take on sinister 
	shapes.

	C.U.

	Among some bathroom fittings a nozzle from a shower falls 
	onto the floor.

	MEDIUM SHOT

	Lila turns and picks if from the floor and puts it back in 
	its place. She turns and again looks to the deserted street 
	with a touch of anxiety. She gives a slight unconscious 
	shiver.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. THE SWAMP - (NIGHT)

	Tall and lonely still against the moonlight, the figure of 
	Norman, silhouetted. He doesn't move, merely stands there at 
	the edge of the swamp, staring down at the now calm and quiet 
	face of it.

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. THE MOTEL AND HOUSE - (NIGHT)

	All light are out, except the light in Norman's mother's 
	room. And her figure can be seen sitting in the window, 
	relaxed in a high-back chair, her face turned into the room.  
	After a second, we hear the SOUND OF A MOTOR, and then Sam's 
	small pick-up truck swings into the driveway.

	Sam stops the motor, automatically switches off headlights, 
	pauses as he observes the silence and darkness of the area. 
	Then he hops out of the cab, goes quickly to the office, 
	knocks on the door. As he waits for a response, he looks 
	down the long porch, studies the darkened cabins, knocks 
	again, louder, looks in the other direction and sees the 
	house and the figure at the one lit window. He stares a moment 
	then calls loudly:

				SAM
		Arbogast?

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. THE SWAMP

	The silhouette of Norman. He is still. Over shot, very dimly, 
	comes the SOUND OF SAM'S VOICE, calling again for Arbogast.

	Norman turns slowly until, in silhouette, we see his profile, 
	his chin lowered furtively as he looks over his shoulder in 
	the direction of the house. There is silence for a moment, 
	and then again the SOUND of Sam POUNDING at the door.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	INT. HARDWARE STORE - (NIGHT)

	The store is in darkness, only the glow from the back room 
	spilling in.

	L.S.

	With CAMERA placed with its back to the street door, we can 
	see the distant tiny figure of Lila seated and waiting in 
	the back room beyond. There is a SOUND of a car pulling up. 
	The tiny figure jumps up and runs all the way from the back 
	room down the aisle of hardware and comes into a BIG HEAD. 
	We see Lila's desperate anxious look.

	MEDIUM SHOT

	From her viewpoint we see Sam alighting from his truck and 
	coming toward the door of the store. He enters. He and Lila 
	exchange quiet glances.

				SAM
		He didn't come back here?

				LILA
			(worriedly)
		Sam.

				SAM
		No Arbogast. No Bates. And only the 
		old lady at home...
			(frowning)
		A sick old lady unable to answer the 
		door... or unwilling.

				LILA
		Where could he have gone?

				SAM
		Maybe he got some definite lead.
		Maybe he went right on...

				LILA
		Without calling me?

				SAM
		In a hurry.

				LILA
		Sam, he called me when he had nothing 
		definite, nothing but a dissatisfied 
		feeling. Don't you think he'd have 
		called if he had anything...

				SAM
			(interrupting)
		Yes. I think he would have.

	Lila goes quiet. Sam starts toward the back room, pauses at 
	the doorway, turns. Lila has remained by the door, looking 
	out at the street. She feels his pause, turns, and for a 
	moment they share at each other across the darkened room.

				SAM
		Let's go see Al Chambers.

				LILA
		Who's he?

				SAM
		He's the Deputy Sheriff around here.

	As he starts forward.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. STREET THE SHERIFF LIVES ON - (NIGHT)

	A dark, quiet, tree-ceilinged street, the small neat houses 
	dim in the moonlight. Sam's pick-up truck comes down the 
	street, pulls up before the house of Sheriff Chambers. CAMERA 
	MOVES IN on Sam and Lila as they remain for a moment in the 
	truck's cab, staring quietly at the sleeping house.

				SAM
		Our Deputy sleeps.

				LILA
		Well?

				SAM
		Nothing.  Just... all the lights 
		out... must be asleep.

				LILA
			(a small exasperation)
		Does that mean we can't...

				SAM
		No. I'm just procrastinating.  People 
		hate when the doorbell rings in the 
		middle of the night.
			(gives up, starts out)
		Come on.

	He gets out of cab, goes around to help Lila. She is already 
	out. CAMERA FOLLOWS them up the small path to the front door. 
	Sam presses the bell button. Both he and Lila are almost 
	knocked over by the shocking, clanging, ear-splitting BLAST 
	OF THE BELL within the house, a ring which sounds more like 
	a fire alarm than a doorbell.

	He tries to smile, fails. Lila doesn't even try. The 
	downstairs hall light goes on and a moment later the door is 
	unhesitatingly opened by MRS. CHAMBERS, a small, lively stick 
	of a woman wrapped in a thick flannel robe and a corona of 
	hospitality.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Oh?

				SAM
		Sorry, Mrs. Chambers. I hate bothering 
		you...

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		You didn't!
			(a cross look up at 
			the bell)
		It's tinkerbell.
			(a quick smile at 
			Lila)
		Al wants to be sure he'll hear it if 
		anyone rings it in the middle of the 
		night.
			(to Sam)
		Well come on in, at least!

	As she opens the door wide,

							 CUT TO:

	INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALL OF SHERIFF'S HOUSE - (NIGHT)

	Fat roses splatter the wallpaper. The stairs are carpeted. 
	The lighting is bright.

	There is a perfectly fitting wall phone by the parlor arch. 
	Mrs. Chambers goes to the stairway, yells up.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Albert!
			(a tiny wait, a smile 
			as Sam and Lila enter)
		Al Chambers!

	Sam is about to close the door behind him. Mrs. Chambers 
	motions for him not to, scurries across the hall, leans 
	outside, presses the doorbell. The RING within the house is 
	even more shattering. She closes the door, starts to the 
	stairway, pauses as the SOUNDS of movement above COME OVER 
	SHOT.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Customers!

	SHERIFF CHAMBERS comes down the stairs, in a bathrobe which 
	matches his wife's. He is a tall, narrow man with a face 
	originally destined for Mount Rushmore. He nods at Sam, looks 
	at him with wide-awake eyes and a no-nonsense concern.  

				SAM
		We have a problem.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
			(to Lila)
		Let's go out back and have some coca 
		while the men are talking.

				LILA
		No, thank you. It's my problem, too.

				SAM
		I don't know where to start...
			(a look at Lila)
		Except at the beginning.

				LILA
		Yes.

				SAM
			(to Sheriff)
		This is Lila Crane, from Phoenix.
		She's been here for a few days, 
		looking for her sister. There's a 
		private detective helping... and, 
		well, we got a call tonight, from 
		this detective, saying he'd traced 
		Mary...

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Mary is Lila's sister?

				SAM
		Yes. He traced her to that motel, 
		out on the old highway...

				MRS. CHAMBERS
			(to the Sheriff)
		Bates' Motel.
			(to Lila)
		He has a mind like a mechanical brain 
		and the more information you feed 
		it... Go on, Sam.

				SAM
		He traced her there and called us to 
		say he was going to question Mrs. 
		Bates...

				MRS. CHAMBERS
			(a pleasant shock)
		Norman took a wife?

				SAM
		No. An old woman, his mother.
			(to Sheriff, quickly)
		That was early this evening. And we 
		haven't seen or heard from him since.  
		I went out to the motel, just got 
		back. No one was in the office, and...

				LILA
			(interrupting, 
			anxiously)
		Will you help us? I think something's 
		wrong out there!

				SHERIFF
			(after a considerate 
			pause)
		Now. Your sister is missing how long?

				LILA
		She left Phoenix a week ago yesterday. 
		And no trace until...

				SHERIFF
		How'd you and this detective come to 
		trace her to Fairvale?

				SAM
		They thought she'd be coming to me.

				SHERIFF
		Left Phoenix under her own steam?

				LILA
		Yes.

				SHERIFF
			(a pause)
		She ain't missing so much as she's 
		run away.

				SAM
		Yes.

				SHERIFF
		From what?

				LILA
			(a look at sam, then:)
		She stole some money.

				SHERIFF
		A lot?

				LILA
		Forty thousand dollars.

				SHERIFF
		And the police haven't been able 
		to...

				SAM
			(interrupting)
		Everyone concerned thought... if 
		they could get her to give back the 
		money... they could avoid involving 
		her with the police.

				SHERIFF
		Explains the private detective. He 
		traced her to the Bates place.  What'd 
		he exactly say when he called you?

				LILA
		Mary had been there, one night, and 
		had left.

				SHERIFF
		With the forty thousand dollars?

				LILA
		He didn't mention the money.
			(anxiously)
		What he said on the phone isn't 
		important, is it?  He was supposed 
		to come back after he spoke to the 
		mother, and he didn't! That's what I 
		want you to do something about!

				SHERIFF
		Like what?

				LILA
		Go out there! Find somebody, ask 
		some questions!
			(a pause)
		I'm sorry if I seem over-anxious to 
		you. I keep thinking... something's 
		wrong. I have to know what!

				SHERIFF
		I think something's wrong, too, Miss. 
		But not the same thing. I think your 
		private detective is what's wrong.
			(As Lila is about to 
			object)
		I think he got himself a hot lead as 
		to where your sister was going... 
		probably from Norman Bates...  and 
		called you to keep you still while 
		he took off after her and the money.

				LILA
		He said he was dissatisfied... and 
		was going back.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
			(to Sheriff)
		Why don't you call Norman and let 
		him say just what happened, if he 
		give the man a hot lead and he did 
		just scooted off... it'll make the 
		girl feel better, Albert.

				SHERIFF
		At this hour?

				SAM
		He was out when I was there. If he's 
		back he probably isn't even in bed 
		yet.

				SHERIFF
		He wasn't out when you were there.  
		He just wasn't answering the door in 
		the dead of night... like some people 
		do. This fellow lives like a hermit...

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Recluse. Kinder word.

				SHERIFF
			(to Sam)
		You must remember that bad business 
		out there. About ten years ago...

				SAM
		I've only been here five. Right now 
		it feels like ten, but...

				LILA
		All right! Then call! At least, call!

	Mrs. Chambers goes to phone, dials operator.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
			(into phone)
		Florrie, the Sheriff wants you to 
		connect him with the Bates Motel.

	She hands the receiver to the Sheriff. He takes it, 
	reluctantly, listens to the dim sound of RINGING on the other 
	end. After a moment:

				SHERIFF
			(into phone)
		Norman? Sheriff Chambers.
			(listens)
		Been just fine, thanks. Listen, we 
		got some worries here. Did you have 
		a man stop out there tonight...
			(listens)
		Well, this one wouldn't be a customer, 
		anyway. A private detective, name 
		of...

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Arbogast.

				SHERIFF
			(into phone)
		Arbogast.
			(listens)
		And after he left?
			(listens)
		No, it's okay, Norman. How's it been 
		going out there?
			(listens)
		Well, I think you oughta unload that 
		place and open up closer in to the 
		action, a smaller place, you know... 
		but...

				LILA
		Please!

				SHERIFF
			(into phone)
		Sorry I got you up, boy. Go back to 
		sleep. Yeah, be glad to.
			(hangs up, turns to 
			Mrs. Chambers)
		Said to give you his regards.

				SAM
			(faint irony)
		Was that all?

				SHERIFF
		This detective was out there and 
		Norman told him about the girl and 
		the detective thanked him and went 
		away.

				LILA
		And he didn't go back? Didn't see 
		the mother?

	The Sheriff looks long at Lila, shakes his head 
	sympathetically.

				SHERIFF
		You should've called in the police 
		the second you found your sister has 
		skipped. You go starting private 
		investigations, using people you 
		don't even know...

				LILA
		What difference does that...

				SHERIFF
		Your Detective told you a nakedfaced 
		lie.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Barefaced.

				SHERIFF
		He told you he wasn't coming right 
		back cause he wanted to question 
		Norman Bates' mother, right?

				LILA
		Yes.

				SHERIFF
			(a pause, then calmly)
		Norman Bates' mother has been dead 
		and buried in Greenlawn Cemetery for 
		the last ten years!

	There is a long silence. Sam and Lila stare at the Sheriff.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		I helped Norman pick out the dress 
		she was buried in. Periwinkle blue.

				SHERIFF
		It ain't only local history, Sam, 
		it's the only murder-and-suicide 
		case in Fairvale ledgers! Mrs.
		Bates poisoned this guy she was... 
		involved with, when she found out he 
		was married, then took a helping of 
		the same stuff herself.  Strychnine. 
		Ugly way to die.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Norman found them dead together.  In 
		bed.

				SAM
		You mean that old woman I saw sittin' 
		in the window wasn't Norman Bates' 
		mother?

				MRS. CHAMBERS
			(hopefully, happily)
		Maybe you saw Mary!

				SAM
		I'd know the difference between Mary 
		and an old woman.

				SHERIFF
		Now wait a minute, Sam. You sure you 
		saw an old woman?

				SAM
		Yes! In the house behind the motel. 
		I pounded and called but she... just 
		ignored me.

				SHERIFF
		And you want to tell me you saw Norman 
		Bates' mother.

				LILA
		It must've been. Arbogast said so, 
		too... and he said the young man 
		wouldn't let him see her because she 
		was ill!

	The Sheriff stares at both of them, and when he finally speaks 
	there is an almost inaudible tone or irony in his voice.

				SHERIFF
		Well, if the woman up there is Mrs.
		Bates... who's that woman buried out 
		at Greenlawn Cemetery?

						QUICK CUT TO:

	INT. NORMAN'S PARLOR BEHIND OFFICE - (NIGHT)

	Norman sits in the dim, one-lamp light, the phone next to 
	him, his hand still near it as if he had not been able to 
	move his hand after hanging up. He is staring at the shrike-
	like bird which is perched on the lamp shade. Decision and 
	resolution are beginning to show in his face. Suddenly he 
	rises, starts quickly out of the room, tries to switch off 
	the lamp as he goes and in so doing succeeds only in knocking 
	the bird off the shade.

	He watches it fall, does not try to catch it. It hits the 
	floor with a thud and sawdust spills out. He stares sadly at 
	it, for a moment, then tends down, scoops up the sawdust, 
	tries to press it into the split seam, picks up the bird, 
	puts it in a drawer. Then he puts out the lamp, goes out, 
	crosses the darkened office and goes outside.

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. MOTEL AND HOUSE - (NIGHT)

	Norman comes off the porch, walks to the path and directly 
	up to the house, opens the door and goes in.

							 CUT TO:

	INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY AND STAIRWAY - (NIGHT)

	SHOOTING UP THE STAIRS

	Norman goes up, pauses one moment outside his mother's door, 
	then opens it and goes in, leaving the door open.

	For a moment we hear only Norman's low, quiet voice, his 
	words indistinguishable. Then we hear the cold shot of his 
	mother's derisive laughter.

				MOTHER'S VOICE
		I am sorry, boy, but you do manage 
		to look ludicrous when you give me 
		orders!

				NORMAN'S VOICE
		Please, mother...

				MOTHER'S VOICE
			(Sharp, laughter all 
			gone)
		No! I will not hide in the fruit 
		cellar!
			(A shrill laugh)
		Think I'm fruity, huh?
			(Hard, cold again)
		I'm staying right here!  This is my 
		room and no one will drag me out of 
		it... least of all my big bold son!

				NORMAN'S VOICE
			(Rising now, anxiously)
		They'll come now, Mother. He came 
		after the girl and now someone will 
		come after him! How long do you think 
		you can go on... Mother, please, 
		just for a few days, just so they 
		won't find you!

				MOTHER'S VOICE
			(Mimicking)
		Just for a few days...
			(Furious)
		In that dank fruit cellar? No!  You 
		hid me there once, boy, and you won't 
		do it again! Not ever again!  Now 
		get out!
			(A pause, quiet)
		I told you to get out, boy!
			(A longer pause)
		Norman! What do you think you're 
		going to do? Don't you touch me!
		Don't! Norman!
			(A pause, then 
			cajolingly)
		All right, son, put me down and I'll 
		go. I'll go on my own two feet. I 
		can go on my own two feet, can't I?

	During all this the CAMERA has been slowly creeping up the 
	stairs. It does not stop at the top however, but continues 
	on the same high angle that we had in Scene 57.

	She starts to laugh, a terrible sound like an obscene melody.

				NORMAN'S VOICE
		I'll carry you, mother.

	Norman comes out of the room, his mother held in his arms, 
	her head leaning against his shoulder. He carries her down 
	the stairs, along the lower landing to the cellar stairs, 
	and then down those stairs to the basement.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. FAIRVALE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH - (MORNING)

	An overcast morning, but a sunny-faced crowd. The service is 
	just over, there is contentment, and peace, and just a little 
	I-went-to-church-smugness in the faces of the churchgoers as 
	they come out of the chapel, and spread their separate ways 
	away.

	Amongst the crowd, waiting and searching the faces, are Sam 
	and Lila. In their expressions there is no peace, no 
	contentment. CAMERA MOVES IN CLOSE. They are not speaking. 
	Lila looks as if she has had no sleep.

	Suddenly, Sam becomes alert, takes Lila's arm, starts toward 
	the church.

	CAMERA MOVES WITH THEM, stops as they approach Sheriff and 
	Mrs. Chambers. The Sheriff stares rather sympathetically at 
	Lila. Mrs. Chambers smiles nicely.

				SAM
		We thought, if you didn't mind, we'd 
		go out to the motel with you.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		He's already been.

				SHERIFF
		Went out before service.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		Have you two had breakfast?

				SAM
			(To Sheriff, not a 
			question)
		You didn't find anything.

				SHERIFF
		Nothing. Here, let's clear the path.

	He moves away and the others follow. CAMERA PANS them to the 
	curb.

				LILA
			(Interrupting)
		Did he say anything about my sister?

				SHERIFF
		Just what he told your detective.

	She used a fake name, saw the register myself. Saw the whole 
	place, as a matter of fact. That boy is alone there.

				SAM
		No mother.

				SHERIFF
		You must've seen an illusion, Sam.
		Now, I know you're not the seeing-
		illusion type... But no woman was 
		illusion there and I don't believe 
		in ghosts, so there it is!

				LILA
		I still feel...

				SHERIFF
		Can see you do. Sorry I couldn't 
		make you feel better. You want to 
		come to my office this afternoon and 
		report a missing person... And the 
		theft, is what you want to do!  Sooner 
		you drop this thing in the lap of 
		the law, that's the sooner you'll 
		stand a chance of your sister bein' 
		picked up. How about that?

				LILA
		I don't know.

				MRS. CHAMBERS
		It's Sunday. Come over and do the 
		reporting at the house, 'round dinner 
		time. Make it nicer. You too, Sam.

	She smiles brightly, as if having invited them over to discuss 
	this year's charity fandango, takes the

	Sheriff's arm, starts away. The Sheriff nods as he goes.

	Sam and Lila are alone now, at the curb, before the deserted 
	chapel. For a long moment they just stand there, their faces 
	as gray and overcast as the sky.

				SAM
		Maybe I am the seeing-illusions type.

				LILA
		You're not.

	Sam takes her arm, starts walking her up the street toward 
	the spot where his pick-up truck is parked.

	CAMERA FOLLOWS them.

				SAM
		Want me to drop you at the hotel?  
		Or you want to come over to the store?

	Lila does not answer. They reach the truck. Lila looks 
	directly at Sam as he helps her into the cab.

				LILA
		I won't feel satisfied unless I got 
		out there, Sam.

				SAM
		Neither will I.

	He slams the door, hurries around truck, gets into driver's 
	seat, starts motor. As the truck drives off,

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	SAM AND LILA IN TRUCK - (PROCESS - HIGHWAY)

	For a moment, both are silent; Sam watching the road as if 
	there were other cars on it, Lila staring at nothing in 
	particular, except perhaps her own inner fear.

				LILA
		I wonder if we'll ever see Mary again.

				SAM
		Of course we will.

				LILA
		Alive.

	Sam looks as if he'd like to say something humorous, something 
	to cheer her. He cannot. He remains silent.

				LILA
		We lived together all our lives.

	When we woke up one morning and found ourselves orphans, 
	Mary quit college and got a job, so I could go to college.

				SAM
		Where'd you go to college?

				LILA
		I didn't. I got a job, too.
			(A pause)
		I wonder if that hurt her, my not 
		letting her sacrifice for me?  Some 
		people are so willing to suffer for 
		you that they suffer more if you 
		don't let them.

				SAM
			(Almost to himself)
		She was willing to lick the stamps.

	Lila looks quizzically at him, is too concerned to pursue 
	it.

				LILA
		I wonder so many things about her 
		now.  Why she never told me about 
		you...  Funny, when you think there's 
		an answer to everything, you think 
		you know all the answers.

				SAM
		We were going to get married. Are 
		going to get married!

				LILA
		Do you know how I found out about 
		you? I found one of your letters... 
		it was a nice letter, Sam.

				SAM
		This is the old highway.

				LILA
		I suppose... when you were able to 
		marry her she'd have presented you, 
		all shiny and proper... she always 
		tried to be proper.

				SAM
		Watch your tenses.

				LILA
		Huh?

				SAM
		She always tries to be proper.

	Sam slows the truck to a stop, sighs, starts to light up a 
	cigarette. Lila looks questioningly and impatiently at him.

				LILA
		You going to wait here for me?

				SAM
		I'm going with you. But we'd better 
		decide what we're going to say and 
		do when we walk in...

				LILA
		We're going to register. As man and 
		wife. And get shown to a cabin... 
		and then search every inch of that 
		place, inside and... outside.

				SAM
		You won't believe it...
			(Starts motor)
		But this will be the first time
		I've ever pulled one of those man-
		and-wife-renting-cabin capers!

				LILA
			(A tiny smile, first 
			in hours)
		I believe it.

	As truck starts to drive on,

							 CUT TO:

	EXT. THE BATES MOTEL AND HOUSE - (DAY)

	The place is empty and silent and washed dirty by the deep 
	gray of the cloudy sky. We see Sam's truck turning into the 
	driveway and pulling to a stop. After a moment, Sam and Lila 
	get out of the truck.

	FRESH ANGLE

	Close on Sam and Lila as they meet on the porch side of the 
	truck. The motel office and the house beyond can be seen in 
	b.g. of shot. Sam and Lila merely stare for a moment, then 
	turn and gaze up at the house. There is no figure in the 
	window and the shade is drawn. Same goes to the office door, 
	peers in, knocks, opens door, enters. Lila remains on the 
	driveway, beside the truck.

							 CUT TO:

	INT. THE MOTHER'S ROOM - (DAY)

	CLOSE ANGLE on Norman standing by the window. He has pulled 
	the curtains very slightly apart, is staring out and down at 
	the motel, his eyes studying the lone figure of Lila, who is 
	standing by the truck and looking up at the house.  Norman 
	studies her, and as her eyes look up at this very window he 
	closes the curtains, turns away.

	We see the suspicion and fear in his face, the surge of panic 
	and his struggle to contain it. Then he goes away. CAMERA 
	remains on window, shooting out and down, and through the 
	frail curtains we can see Sam as he comes out of the motel 
	office and joins Lila.

	EXT. MOTEL OFFICE - CLOSE ON SAM AND LILA

				SAM
			(Unconsciously 
			whispering)
		I wonder where Norman Bates does his 
		hermiting?

				LILA
		Someone was at that window. I saw 
		the curtain move.

	Sam takes Lila's arm.

				SAM
		Come on.

	He starts with her toward the path which leads to the old 
	house. CAMERA PANS with them, and as they turn around the 
	office corner, they see Norman coming down the path toward 
	them. They pause and Norman pauses. He does not smile, nor 
	speak. His usual grin and soft friendliness are gone; 
	containment and impassivity lie in their place.

				SAM
			(Cheerfully)
		Just coming up to ring for you.

				NORMAN
			(Coming forward)
		I suppose you want a cabin.

				SAM
		We'd hoped to make it straight to 
		San Francisco, but we don't like the 
		look of that sky. Looks like a bad 
		day coming... doesn't it.

	Norman walks past Sam, giving him the sort of quick, 
	disapproving glance one gives a man who is obviously lying, 
	goes onto the porch and into the office. Sam and Lila follow 
	Norman.

	INT. MOTEL OFFICE - (DAY)

	Norman crosses to the desk, goes behind it, takes the key to 
	cabin number twelve off the keyboard. Sam and Lila have 
	entered and are almost to the desk-counter by this time.

				NORMAN
		I'll take you to...

				SAM
		Better sign in first, hasn't we?

	Sam eyes scan the counter, looking for a registration book.

				NORMAN
		It isn't necessary.

				SAM
			(Interrupting with a 
			friendly cheerfulness)
		Uh, uh! My boss is paying for this 
		trip... ninety percent business... 
		and he wants practically notarized 
		receipts. I better sign in and get a 
		receipt.

	Norman stares at Sam, as if he'd like to yell at him, call 
	him "liar." Instead he reaches under the desk counter, brings 
	out the registration book. Lila moves closer, studies the 
	book as Sam signs in. Sam signs "Joe and Mrs. Johnson."  The 
	signature and city of "Marie Samuels" and after it, the 
	notation "Cabin One," can be clearly seen three registrations 
	above Sam's.

	When Sam has finished he closes book, hands it back to Norman. 
	Norman does not take it, starts out from behind counter.

				NORMAN
		I'll get your bags.

				SAM
		Haven't any.

				NORMAN
			(after a stare)
		I'll show you the cabin.

	As he starts for the door, Sam laughs. Norman stops, turns, 
	looks at him.

				SAM
		First time I've seen it happen.
			(to Lila)
		Check in any place in this country 
		without bags, and you have to pay in 
		advance.

	Sam smiles as if at a funny remark, takes a bill out of his 
	pocket.

				NORMAN
		Ten dollars...

	Norman returns to Sam, takes the extended bill, is about to 
	start out again.

				SAM
		That receipt...?

	Norman goes reluctantly behind counter, lays down the key to 
	cabin twelve, takes a receipt book out of the drawer under 
	counter, starts to write. Lila steps up to the desk, picks 
	up the key, quickly, starts out.

				LILA
		I'll start ahead.

	Norman looks up, gazes her as she goes out door.

	EXT. THE MOTEL - (DAY)

	Lila comes along the porch, pauses before cabin one, tries 
	the door. It opens. She closes it quickly as she hears Sam 
	and Norman coming out of the motel office, continues on down 
	the porch.

				SAM
			(To Norman, who is 
			following)
		Don't bother yourself... we'll find 
		it.

	He goes on down the porch, doesn't even glance at cabin one, 
	walks quickly and catches up to Lila just as she reaches 
	cabin twelve. CAMERA REMAINS with Norman, who is standing by 
	the office door, looking after Sam and Lila, his face alert 
	and no longer impassive. He waits a moment, after they have 
	closed their cabin door, then crosses to the pickup truck.  
	CAMERA MOVES with him. He studies the truck, then leans in 
	through the driver's window, twists the registration card 
	around, reads it.

	It gives the correct name and address of Sam Loomis.

	Norman comes back out of the window, glances once more toward 
	cabin twelve, then at the old house. His suspicions are 
	confirmed, and now there is the relaxation of relief in his 
	face. He takes on a purposeful air, turns, strides up the 
	path, up onto the porch of the house, opens the door, goes 
	in.

	INT. CABIN TWELVE - (DAY)

	Lila is at the cabin's rear window, looking out, straining 
	for a glimpse of the old house, which cannot be seen from 
	the window of this cabin.

	She turns, frustrated, anxious. Sam is standing at the foot 
	of the bed, staring at the smooth coverlet, his brow creased 
	in a sadness.

				LILA
		We should have asked for Cabin One... 
		The one Mary was in.

				SAM
		I'm glad we didn't.

	He pulls his eyes from the bed, crosses to the desk, sits 
	wearily, lights a cigarette. Lila watches him for a moment, 
	feels a real compassion, goes to the bed, sits on its edge, 
	turns again and looks at Sam's back.

				LILA
		We have to go into that cabin and 
		search it, Sam... no matter what 
		we're afraid of finding and no matter 
		how much it may hurt.

				SAM
		I know.
			(A pause)
		Do you think if something happened, 
		it happened there?

				LILA
			(A pause, then:)
		Sam, if you owned a useless business 
		like this motel... one you probably 
		couldn't even sell...  what would 
		you need to get away, to start a new 
		business, somewhere else?
			(As Sam studies her)
		Forty thousand dollars?

				SAM
		How could we prove...
			(An almost hopeless 
			laugh)
		Well, if he opens a new motel on the 
		new highway... say, a year from now...

				LILA
		There must be some proof that exists 
		right now! Something that proves he 
		got that money away from Mary... 
		Some way!

				SAM
		What makes you sound so certain?

				LILA
		Arbogast! Sam, he liked me... or 
		felt sorry for me... and he was 
		starting to feel the same about you. 
		I heard it when he called... in his 
		voice, a caring. He wouldn't have 
		gone anywhere or done anything without 
		telling us.  Unless he was stopped. 
		And he was stopped, so he must have 
		found out something!

	Sam considers a moment, nods agreement, rises.

				SAM
		We'll start with Cabin One.

	He goes to the door, opens it slightly, looks out, then, 
	back to Lila:

				SAM
		If he sees us... we're just taking 
		the air.

	Lila goes to the door. He holds it open and she goes out.

	EXT. THE MOTEL - (DAY)

	Sam closes the door, joins Lila, takes her hand.

	Together they walk along the porch in the direction of Cabin 
	One. CAMERA FOLLOWS. They pause before the door of Cabin 
	One. Sam motions Lila to wait, to hold still, then goes on 
	to the office, opens the door, calls in:

				SAM
		Bates?

	He waits, there is no response. He goes in and in a moment 
	comes back out, closes the door, goes to Lila.

	She has already opened the door of Cabin One and has started 
	to enter.

	INT. CABIN ONE - (DAY)

	The blinds are closed and the room is almost night-dark.

	Sam comes in after Lila, closes the door behind him.

	For a moment they just gaze at the room, as if willing it to 
	tell them some satisfactory story.

	Neither speaks. Then, in dark silence, they begin to search, 
	going methodically and thoroughly through all drawers, the 
	closet, the desk, searching under the bed and in dark corners, 
	not knowing what they expect to find and yet expecting to 
	find some thing. Lila opens the bathroom door, looks in. The 
	windowless room is very dark. She switches on the light, 
	goes in. Sam moves toward the bathroom, is about to follow 
	her in when he notices which room it is and automatically 
	catches himself up, backs out.

				SAM
		Sorry.

				LILA
		Hospital clean.

				SAM
		What?

				LILA
		The bathroom. Look at how clean it 
		is. The one in our cabin is clean... 
		but this is clean!

	Sam goes in, glances around, nods. Lila goes through the 
	medicine cabinet, finds nothing but a glass and two tiny 
	tabs of soap. Sam leans against the door-jamb, looks at the 
	tub, the shower pipe above it. He continues to stare, more 
	interested suddenly, as if bothered by some off-key evidence 
	he can't put his finger on. Then he looks at the shower 
	curtain rod.

	And realizes there is no shower curtain. He frowns, is about 
	to say something when Lila, who has been momentarily out of 
	shot, interrupts.

	Sam turns, CAMERA TURNS, and we see Lila is standing above 
	the toilet bowl, a tiny piece of wet paper stuck to the tip 
	of her right index finger.

				SAM
		What is it?

				LILA
		It didn't get washed down. It's 
		figuring... the kind you tear up and 
		get rid of.
			(Extending her finger 
			toward Sam)
		Some figure has been added to or 
		subtracted from... forty thousand.

	Sam lifts the piece of paper off her finger, studies it, 
	takes out his wallet, presses the wet scrap to his driver's 
	license shield, puts it back in the wallet and puts the wallet 
	away.

				LILA
		That's proof Mary was here!  It would 
		be too wild a coincidence for somebody 
		else to...

				SAM
			(Reminding)
		Bates never denied Mary was here.

				LILA
			(Reminded)
		Yes.
			(A thought)
		But maybe this proves that Bates 
		found out about the money.

				SAM
		Do we simply ask him where he's hidden 
		it?

				LILA
		Sam, that old woman, whoever she is. 
		I think she told Arbogast something! 
		And I want her to tell us the same 
		thing!

	She starts out of the bathroom. Sam takes hold of her arm, 
	stops her.

				SAM
		You can't go up there.

				LILA
		Why not?

				SAM
		Bates.

	CAMERA STARTS TO PAN AWAY from them, moves slowly over the 
	room, very slowly.

				LILA'S VOICE (O.S.)
		Let's find him. One of us can keep 
		him occupied while the other gets to 
		the woman.

				SAM'S VOICE (O.S.)
		You won't be able to hold him still 
		if he doesn't want to be held. And I 
		don't like you going into that house 
		alone, Lila.

	CAMERA HAS PANNED clear across to the opposite wall now, and 
	is moving up closer and closer to the tiny-flowered wall 
	paper, finally closing in on one small rosebud.

				LILA'S VOICE (O.S.)
		I can handle a sick old woman.

	Now we see that the rosebud has been cut out, that this is 
	the reverse side of the hole Norman peeped through to watch 
	Mary. And we see the pupil of Norman's eye now.

				SAM'S VOICE (O.S.)
		All right. I'll find Bates and keep 
		him occupied.

	The eye moves away and there is a brief flash of light before 
	the hole is covered, on the other side, by the wall-hung 
	painting.

	FRESH ANGLE - LILA AND SAM

	They are about to start out. Sam stops her again.

				SAM
		Wait a minute. If you get anything 
		out of the mother...
			(A thought)
		Can you find your way back to town?
			(As Lila nods yes)
		If you do get anything, don't stop 
		to tell me.

	Lila nods quickly, hurries to the door. Sam gets to it first, 
	opens it a slight crack, looks out, then opens it wide enough 
	for Lila and Himself to pass through.

	EXT. THE MOTEL - (DAY)

	ANGLE CLOSE on cabin one as Lila comes out, turns to her 
	left, goes along porch toward cabin twelve. Sam remains at 
	the door, then turns right, heading for the path. As he passes 
	the office, he is shocked to see Norman standing just inside 
	the open door.

				NORMAN
		Looking for me?

				SAM
			(Recovering)
		Yes, matter of fact.
			(The friendly grin)
		The wife's taking a nap and... I can 
		never keep quiet enough for her... 
		so I thought I'd look you up and... 
		talk.

				NORMAN
		Satisfied with your cabin?

				SAM
		Fine.

	Sam starts into the office. Just before going in, he glances 
	down the long porch, sees Lila standing outside the door of 
	cabin twelve, waves her a tiny "all clear" signal.

	LILA

	CAMERA ANGLES to include Lila and her point of view.

	She watches Sam disappear into the office, waits until she 
	hears the door close, then looks about for another way to 
	reach the house. She sees the small alley at the end of this 
	L of cabins, starts toward it.

	EXT. REAR OF MOTEL - S.C.U. LILA - (DAY)

	Behind the motel Lila hesitates. She looks ahead.

	LONG SHOT - (DAY)

	The old house standing against the sky.

	CLOSE UP - (DAY)

	Lila moves forward.

	LONG SHOT - (DAY)

	The CAMERA approaching the house.

	CLOSE UP - (DAY)

	Lila glances toward the back of Norman's parlor. She moves 
	on.

	LONG SHOT - (DAY)

	The house coming nearer.

	CLOSE UP - (DAY)

	Lila looks up at the house. She moves forward purposefully.

	S.L.S. - (DAY)

	The house and the porch.

	CLOSE UP - (DAY)

	Lila stops at the house and looks up. She glances back.

	She turns to the house again.

	S.L.S. - (DAY)

	The CAMERA MOUNTS the steps to the porch.

	C.U. - (DAY)

	Lila puts out her hand.

	S.C.U. - (DAY)

	Lila's hand pushes the door open. We see the hallway.

	Lila ENTERS PAST CAMERA.

	INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY OF OLD HOUSE - (DAY)

	Lila closes the door, remains by it for a moment, quiet, 
	listening. Her eyes scan the layout, the closed door which 
	leads off the hallway, to the dining room on the right and 
	the parlor on the left. Down at the end of the hall is the 
	kitchen, the door wide open, the room beyond dim and silent. 
	She notices the stairs leading down to the basement, stares 
	at them, then back to the stairs leading to the second floor. 
	She starts forward, and seems about to investigate the parlor 
	and dining room.

	INT. THE MOTEL OFFICE - (DAY)

	Norman is behind the counter, standing, staring at Sam who 
	is sitting relaxedly on a small sofa. Norman has the look of 
	one who is protecting himself, as if the counter were a 
	protective wall against the threatening world across it.

				SAM
			(Cheerfully, as if 
			after a self-conscious 
			pause)
		I've been doing all the talking so 
		far, haven't I?

				NORMAN
		Yes.

				SAM
		I always thought it was the people 
		who are alone so much who do all the 
		talking when they get the chance. 
		Yet there you are, doing all the 
		listening!
			(A pause)
		You are alone here, aren't you?
			(As Norman does not 
			reply)
		It would drive me crazy.

				NORMAN
		That would be a rather extreme 
		reaction, wouldn't it?

				SAM
			(Lightly)
		Just an expression...
			(More seriously)
		What I meant was... I'd do just about 
		anything... to get away.  Wouldn't 
		you?

	INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY AND STAIRS OF OLD HOUSE - (DAY)

	Lila is halfway up the stairs. As she climbs she is startled 
	by the creaks and groans of the old wood of the steps. She 
	steps more carefully. CAMERA remains at foot of stair, TILTING 
	UP as Lila climbs. She pauses at the head of the stair. The 
	door on her right, which opens into the mother's room, is 
	closed. To her left is another door, half-open. Directly 
	before her is a third door, closed. She holds a long moment, 
	trying to picture in her mind which room would look out on 
	the front of the house, decides, chooses the correct door, 
	the one on her right. She goes to it, knocks lightly.

	INT. THE MOTHER'S ROOM (DAY) - CLOSE ANGLE ON DOOR

	We hear Lila's second knock, then, faintly, her soft call.

				LILA'S VOICE (O.S.)
		Mrs. Bates?

	There is quiet for a moment, then the door begins to open, 
	and we see Lila. She stands on the threshold, looking in at 
	the room, instantly disturbed by it, almost chilled, her 
	expression indicating an impulse to close the door and go 
	away from this room forever.

	After a moment, she enters, leaving the door open behind 
	her. CAMERA PULLS BACK AND AWAY and we now see the room as 
	Lila sees it.

	It is ornate, damask-and-mahogany, thick and warm and ripe, 
	an olla podrida of mismated furnishings and bric-a-brac of 
	the last century. The bed is four poster, but uncanoped; the 
	dressing table is fancy and flounced with satin; there is a 
	great chiffonier, a big-doored wardrobe, a large, oval, full-
	length pier-glass (this against the wall directly opposite 
	the door), a satin recamier, an upholstered armchair by the 
	window, a white marble fireplace, its grate cold but piled 
	with ashes.

	And there is in the room an unmistakably live quality, as if 
	even though it is presently unoccupied, it has not been long 
	vacated by some musty presence.

	Lila glances at the bed. The damask coverlet is thrown over 
	it, but it is not neat, there is the imprint of a body on 
	it, a body which obviously has slept in a curled-up, womb-
	like position. Lila stares at it for a moment, up, then goes 
	to the dressing table. Its top is scattered with boxes and 
	jars of cosmetics and creams, traces of fresh powder, an 
	opened bottle or perfume, a comb, and a brush with traces of 
	hair in its bristles. Lila moves on, catches a glimpse of 
	herself in the pier-glass, is startled, turns away, goes to 
	the chiffonier, is about to open a drawer, sees the high 
	wardrobe out of the corner of her eyes, goes to it, 
	hesitantly. She opens one door. Fresh, clean, well pressed 
	dresses hang neatly. Lila opens the other door. The sweaters 
	and dresses and robes hang freely, none in moth-proof, storage-
	type bags. There is even a well-brushed collar of foxes.  
	Along the floor of the wardrobe is a line of clean, polished 
	shoes. Lila stares, then closes the door, turns, looks once 
	again over the whole room, starts out,

	INT. THE UPSTAIRS HALLWAY OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)

	Lila comes out of the mother's room, closes the door behind 
	her, looks down the stairs, then starts across the hall to 
	the room whose door is half-open. The room within is dark, 
	the shades drawn full.

	Lila pauses on the threshold, reaches in, feels the wall, 
	throws on a switch.

	INT. MOTEL OFFICE - (DAY)

	Sam has risen, is standing by the counter now.

				SAM
		I'm not saying you shouldn't be 
		contented here, I'm just doubting 
		that you are. I think if you saw a 
		chance to get out from under...  
		you'd unload this place...

				NORMAN
			(Angrily)
		This place! This isn't 'a place.'  
		It's my only world. I grew up in 
		that house back there. I was a happy 
		child. My mother and I... we were 
		more than happy.

				SAM
		And now that your mother's dead?

	Norman snaps a sharp, fast, ugly look at him.

				NORMAN
		My mother is not dead!

				SAM
			(Softly)
		I didn't think so.

	INT. NORMAN'S ROOM IN THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)

	Lila is standing in the doorway, staring at the room in sick 
	dismay. The room is grotesque, a horrible, ludicrous fantasy 
	of childhood held beyond the point of decency.

	It is a small room. The walls are fancied with romping 
	silhouettes of teddy-bears and sailboats and carousels and 
	fat cows jumping over aghast moons. The bed is small, far 
	too short for a man of Norman's height. And yet the rumpled 
	covers indicate that it is in this bed that Norman sleeps.  
	Next to the bed is an old-fashioned toy chest. On its top 
	there are a bird-in-a-cage lamp, a plain-bound book, and an 
	ash tray filled with ashes and cigarette stubs. A grown man's 
	shirt hangs on a child's clothes tree.

	Against one wall there is a narrow, high bookcase filled 
	with thick, unchildish-looking books. On the small, white 
	chest of drawers there is an old, child's victrola. The record 
	on the turntable is discovered, on close inspection, to be 
	Beethoven's Eroica Symphony.

	Lila studies the room, fascinated and repelled. She glances 
	at the bookcase, comes into the room, goes to the bookcase 
	and pulls out a thick, large, plain-bound book. She opens 
	it. Her eyes go wide in shock. And then there is disgust. 
	She slams the book closed, drops it.

	INT. THE MOTEL OFFICE - (DAY)

	Norman, behind the counter, has moved back against the wall. 
	Sam is still on the other side of the counter, but is leaning 
	forward, his eyes hard on Norman's face.

	Norman's face is no longer expressionless. It has the stark, 
	high sheen of a cornered animal.

				SAM
			(Pressing)
		You look frightened. Have I been 
		saying something frightening?

				NORMAN
		I don't know what you've been saying.

				SAM
		I've been talking about your mother... 
		about your motel. How are you going 
		to do it?

				NORMAN
		Do what?

				SAM
		Buy a new one! In a new town!
		Where you won't have to hide your 
		mother!

				NORMAN
		Shut up!

				SAM
		Where will you get the money to do 
		that, Bates... or do you already 
		have it... socked away... a lot of 
		it...

				NORMAN
		Leave me alone!

				SAM
		...Forty thousand dollars!

				NORMAN
		Leave me alone!

	He is close to panic now. He turns, swiftly, dashes back 
	into his private parlor. Sam goes quickly around the counter, 
	follows.

	INT. NORMAN'S PRIVATE PARLOR - (DAY)

	Norman hears Sam following, wants to run, to never be reached 
	by this man. He crosses the small room, drawn to the rear 
	window, as if he might fly through it. Sam enters, pauses.  
	Norman turns, back against the window, as unable to fly away 
	as are the many still, stuffed birds. Sam registers a brief 
	flicker of reaction when he sees the birds, but continues to 
	gaze at Norman, hard.

				SAM
		I bet your mother knows where the 
		money is. And what you did to get 
		it. And I think she'll tell us.

	Something self-assured and confident in Sam's tone gives 
	Norman a new, more terrified alarm. He turns his head, glances 
	out the window at the old house. He looks back at Sam and 
	there is terror in his voice.

				NORMAN
		Where's that girl? The girl you came 
		with! Where is she?

	Sam does not respond, smiles a half-smile, turns to examine 
	a stuffed owl. Norman looks back at the house.

				NORMAN
			(A horrible groan)
		Oh, God!

	INT. UPSTAIRS HALL OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)

	Lila, shaken and disturbed, almost sickened, is coming out 
	of Norman's room. She has left the light on. She pauses in 
	the middle of the landing, looks at the closed door opposite 
	the stairs, goes to it, opens it, sees that it is the 
	bathroom, pulls the door to, turns, starts toward the stairs.

	INT. NORMAN'S PRIVATE PARLOR - (DAY)

	Sam is lying on the floor, face downward, unmoving. A 
	candlestick is on the floor, close by his head, still rocking 
	as if just dropped. OVER SHOT comes the SOUND of Norman's 
	footsteps and CAMERA TURNS in time to catch a brief glimpse 
	of him going out into the office, almost at a run.

	INT. STAIRWAY OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)

	Lila is on the top step, looking down toward CAMERA.

	She is listening, hoping to hear some human sound, some sound 
	she might follow, pursue. She hears nothing. She starts down 
	the stairs. Just below the halfway step, she looks at the 
	front door, sees out through the door window:

	LILA'S VIEWPOINT - (DAY)

	Norman coming.

	INT. STAIRWAY OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)

	For a moment Lila panics, then she hurries down the steps, 
	cannot go in the direction of the front door, remembers the 
	stairway behind her, turns and runs in that direction. The 
	SOUND of Norman bounding up the porch steps can be heard. 
	Lila turns and dashes down the stairs which lead to the 
	basement, going down far enough to conceal herself, crouching 
	there.

	Norman enters the hallway, closes the door softly, listens. 
	He glances once in the direction of the basement stairs. He 
	seems about to smile, when suddenly all expression vanishes 
	from his face, and he appears to enter a no-place, no-time 
	state. He crosses to the stairway, goes up.

	Lila remains crouched on the basement stairs, listening to 
	the SOUNDS of Norman. His footsteps on the stairs followed 
	by the fast noises of doors opening, of fast moving about an 
	upstairs room. Convinced that he is searching the upstairs 
	for her, she decides to chance an escape. She starts up the 
	steps, is about to turn into the hallway when her eye is 
	caught by a glimmer of light down in the basement. She pauses, 
	looks down, sees the crack of light coming from behind the 
	not entirely closed door to the fruit cellar. The swift moving 
	SOUNDS of Norman continue to come from upstairs.

	Lila is torn, knows she should get out of the house while 
	she has the chance, is unable to resist the impulse to check 
	that hidden-looking room down below, a room in which, she 
	desperately believes, there must lie some answer to what 
	happened to Mary. She turns and goes softly and quickly down 
	the stairs.

	INT. THE BASEMENT OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)

	Lila reaches the bottom, stops, listens, hears the stairboards 
	creaking as footsteps fall hard and measured upon them. She 
	turns, pulls open the fruit cellar door, looks in. The woman 
	is sitting in a comfortable chair, the back of the chair, 
	and the woman, turned to the door. Lila calls a harsh, 
	frightened whisper.

				LILA
		Mrs. Bates...?

	Lila goes into the room.

	INT. THE FRUIT CELLAR

	Lila goes to the chair, touches it. The touch disturbs the 
	figure. It starts to turn, slowly, stiffly, a clock-wise 
	movement. Lila looks at it in horror. It is the body of a 
	woman long dead. The skin is dry and pulled away from the 
	mouth and the teeth are revealed as in the skeleton's smile.  
	The eyes are gone from their sockets, the bridge of the nose 
	has collapsed, the hair is dry and wild, the cheeks are 
	sunken, the leathery-brown skin is powdered and rouged and 
	flaky. The body is dressed in a high-neck, clean, well-pressed 
	dress, obviously recently laundered and hand-ironed.

	The movement of this stuffed, ill-preserved cadaver, turning 
	as if in response to Lila's call and touch, is actually 
	graceful, ballet-like, and the effect is terrible and obscene.

	Lila gazes for one flicker of a deathly moment, then begins 
	to scream, a high, piercing, dreadful scream.

	And Lila's scream is joined by another scream, a more 
	dreadful, horrifying scream which comes from the door behind 
	her.

				NORMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
			(screaming)
		Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Am Norma 
		Bates!

	Lila turns.

	NORMAN

	His face is contorted. He wears a wild wig, a mockery of a 
	woman's hair. He is dressed in a high-neck dress which is 
	similar to that worn by the corpse of his mother. His hand 
	is raised high, poised to strike at Lila. There is a long 
	breadknife in it.

	LILA

	Close on her face. She is dumb-struck. Her eyes are screaming.

	BACK TO NORMAN

	As he is about to start forward, a man's hand reaches in 
	from the doorway behind, grabs Norman's wrist. Sam comes 
	through the door, still holding tight to the wrist, pulling 
	back the arm and at the same time throwing himself at Norman, 
	football tackle style.

	SERIES OF CUTS - THE FIGHT

	Norman and Sam, struggling. The wild fury in Norman's face, 
	the mad noise of his screams and vile curses. The terrified, 
	fight-to-the-death look of Sam. The still, staring Lila.

	MRS. BATES

	A close of her face, She appears to be watching and enjoying 
	the fight. Over the shot, the SOUNDS of the struggle, the 
	screams of Norman.

						 DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. COURTHOUSE AT READING - (NIGHT)

	There are many people gathered about the steps, the curious 
	and the concerned and the morbid. At the curb, a couple of 
	newspaper cars, two or three police cars, and a mobile unit 
	truck from the local television outlet. There is noise, and 
	chattering as questions are asked and answers given, and the 
	sounds of traffic, and of the television equipment being 
	moved into the courthouse, for on-the-scene reporting, and 
	the stern voices of policemen trying to keep people back. 
	The scene has a bright glare about it, that quality of sudden 
	light thrown on a fearful darkness.

	CLOSER ANGLE ON STEPS OF COURTHOUSE

	A POLICEMAN trying to make way for the television men, 
	muttering "keep back," etc., to the spectators. A TELEVISION 
	MAN, carrying a piece of equipment goes through door, and 
	CAMERA FOLLOWS him into the courthouse vestibule.

	Here, too, there is a crowd, composed of Policemen, Reporters, 
	Television Men. The Television Men we have been following 
	stops beside a Policeman.

				TELEVISION MAN
			(Indicating the front 
			door he has just 
			come in through)
		You think they'll take him out that 
		way?

				POLICEMAN
			(Looking at waiting 
			crowd, shrugging)
		Probably have to.
			(A rueful smile)
		Besides, the taxpayers hate it when 
		something gets slipped out the back 
		door on them!

	Over this exchange, the buzz of other voices, the movement 
	of men. CAMERA MOVES ON, down the corridor, gets to the door 
	of the office of the Chief of Police just as a young fellow 
	with a carton box filled with paper containers of sent-out-
	for coffee reaches this door. CAMERA HOLDS as the COFFEE BOY 
	pauses a moment, then goes into the room.

							 CUT TO:

	INT. OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF POLICE - (NIGHT)

	Lila is seated in a chair, Sam standing close by. A bit apart 
	from them, we see Sheriff Chambers, in quiet conference with 
	the CHIEF OF POLICE, the COUNTY SHERIFF, the DISTRICT 
	ATTORNEY.

	The Coffee Boy stands in the doorway. Sam goes to him, takes 
	a container of coffee from the box, carries it to Lila, 
	checking the notation on the lid as he goes.

	MED. CLOSE ON SAM AND LILA

				SAM
			(quietly)
		It's regular. Okay?

				LILA
			(ruefully)
		I could stand something regular.

	Sam smiles encouragingly, hands her the coffee. Sheriff 
	Chambers ENTERS SHOT, gives Sam a container of coffee he has 
	brought for him. Sam takes it, nods a thank you.

	For a moment no one speaks. Lila looks badly shaken, Sam 
	disheveled, but contained.

				CHAMBERS
		You two can go on home if you like.
			(a sympathetic look 
			at Lila)
		Making that statement was enough for 
		one night.

				SAM
			(to Lila)
		Want to?

				LILA
		No. I'm all right. I'll feel better 
		when all this is explained... if it 
		can be.

	Sam looks a question at Sheriff Chambers. Chambers shrugs 
	doubtfully.

				CHAMBERS
		If anybody gets any answers, it'll 
		be the fellow talking to him now... 
		the Psychiatrist. Even I couldn't 
		reach Norman... and he knows me.
			(to Lila)
		You warm enough, Miss?

	Lila is about to answer, when she sees someone come into the 
	room and rises anxiously. Sam and Sheriff Chambers turn, 
	follow her gaze.

	INT. OFFICE OF CHIEF OF POLICE - FULL SHOT

	A young man with a serious, frowning face has just come into 
	the room. He is DR. SIMON, the Psychiatrist.

	He goes to the desk where the box of coffee containers has 
	been placed, takes up a container.

				DISTRICT ATTORNEY
		Did he talk to you?

				SIMON
		No. I got the whole story... but not 
		from Norman. I got it from... his 
		mother.

	Everyone gazes at him, mystified. He speaks as he removes 
	lid from coffee container.

				SIMON
		Norman Bates no longer exists. He 
		only half-existed to begin with...  
		now, the other half has taken over.  
		Probably for all time.

				LILA
			(With difficulty)
		Did he kill my sister?

				SIMON
		Yes... and no.

				DISTRICT ATTORNEY
		Look, if you're trying to lay a lot 
		of psychiatric groundwork for some 
		sort of plea this fellow would like 
		to cop...

				SIMON
		A psychiatrist doesn't lay the 
		groundwork .. he merely tries to 
		explain it.

				LILA
		But my sister is...

				SIMON
		Yes. I'm sorry.
			(to Chambers)
		The Private Investigator, too. If 
		you drag that swamp somewhere in the 
		vicinity of the motel...
			(To the Chief of Police)
		Have you any unsolved missing persons 
		cases on your books?

				CHIEF OF POLICE
		Yes. Two.

				SIMON
		Young girls?

				CHIEF OF POLICE
			(nods, astounded, 
			then:)
		Did he confess to...

				SIMON
			(interrupting)
		As I said, the mother...
			(Pauses, goes on afresh)
		To understand it, as I understood it 
		hearing it from the mother...  That 
		is, from the mother-half of Norman's 
		mind, you have to go back ten years... 
		to the time when Norman murdered his 
		mother and her lover.
			(A pause, then as no 
			one interrupts)
		He was already dangerously disturbed, 
		had been ever since his father died. 
		His mother was a clinging, demanding 
		woman... and for years the two of 
		them lived as if there was no one 
		else in the world. Then she met a 
		man and it seemed to Norman she "threw 
		him over" for this man. That pushed 
		him over the thin line... and he 
		killed them both. Matricide is 
		probably the most unbearable crime 
		of all... and most unbearable to the 
		son who commit it. So he had to erase 
		the crime, at least in his own mind.
			(A pause)
		He stole her corpse... and a weighted 
		coffin was buried. He hid the body 
		in the fruit cellar, even "treated" 
		it to keep it as well as it would 
		keep. And that still wasn't enough. 
		She was there, but she was a corpse.  
		So he began to think and speak for 
		her, gave her half his life, so to 
		speak. At times he could be both 
		personalities, carry on 
		conversations... at other times, the 
		mother-half took over completely. He 
		was never all Norman, but he was 
		often only mother. And because he 
		was so pathologically jealous of 
		her, he assumed she was as jealous 
		of him. Therefore, if he felt a strong 
		attraction to any other woman, the 
		mother side of him would go wild.
			(To Lila)
		When Norman met your sister, he was 
		touched by her... and aroused by 
		her. He wanted her. And this set off 
		his "jealous mother" and...  "mother 
		killed the girl." After the murder, 
		Norman returned as if from a deep 
		sleep... and like a dutiful son, 
		covered up all traces of the crime 
		he was convinced his mother had 
		committed.

				SAM
		Why was he... dressed like that?

				DISTRICT ATTORNEY
		He's a transvestite!

				SIMON
		Not exactly. A man who dresses in 
		woman's clothing in order to achieve 
		a sexual change... or satisfaction... 
		is a transvestite.  But in Norman's 
		case, he was simply doing everything 
		possible to keep alive the illusion 
		of his mother being alive. And 
		whenever reality came too close, 
		when danger or desire threatened 
		that illusion, he'd dress up, even 
		to a cheap wig he brought, and he'd 
		walk about the house, sit in her 
		chair, speak in her voice... He tried 
		to be his mother.
			(A sad smile)
		And now he is.
			(A pause)
		That's what I meant when I said I 
		got the story from the mother. She 
		thinks Norman has been taken away... 
		because of his crimes.  She insists 
		she did nothing, that Norman committed 
		all the murders just to keep her 
		from being discovered. She even smiled 
		a bit coquettishly as she said that. 
		Of course, she feels badly about 
		it... but also somewhat relieved to 
		be, as she put it, free of Norman, 
		at last.
			(A pause)
		When the mind houses two 
		personalities, there is always a 
		battle. In Norman's case, the battle 
		is over... and the dominant 
		personality has won.

	Lila begins to weep softly, for Mary, for Arbogast, for 
	Norman, for all the destroyed human beings of this world. 
	Sam bends beside her, puts his arm about her, comforts her.

				CHAMBERS
			(To Simon)
		And the forty thousand dollars?  Who 
		got that?

				SIMON
		The swamp. These were murders of 
		passion, not profit.

	A POLICE GUARD puts his head in the door, speaks, in a near-
	whisper, to the Chief of Police. The Guard is carrying a 
	folded blanket over his arm.

				POLICE GUARD
		He feels a little chill... can I 
		bring him this blanket?

	The Chief of Police nods. The Guard goes away, and CAMERA 
	FOLLOWS him out of the room and out into the hallway. Guard 
	moves through the waiting men, heading down the corridor.

							 CUT TO:

	INT. ANOTHER CORRIDOR IN COURTHOUSE

	A narrower corridor in the rear of the building. In f.g. of 
	shot, we see a door, the top half of which is wire-covered 
	glass. A GUARD in uniform is posted by the door, looking 
	reprovingly at the two or three people trying to get a glance 
	into the room.

	The Police Guard, carrying the blanket, comes down this 
	corridor, goes to the door. CAMERA MOVES CLOSE. The uniformed 
	Guard opens the door, allows the man to go in.

	Shot is RAKED so that we can not see into the room.

	After a moment, the Guard comes out and the uniformed Guard 
	closes and locks the door and we

							 CUT TO:

	INT. NORMAN'S DETENTION ROOM - (NIGHT)

	The walls are white and plain. There is no window.

	There is no furniture except the straight-back chair in which 
	Norman sits, in the center of the room. The room has a quality 
	of no-whereness, of calm separation from the world.

	The Police Guard has placed the blanket on Norman's knees. 
	Norman, as we come upon him, is lifting the blanket, unfolding 
	it. His face, although without makeup and without the 
	surrounding softness of the wig, has a certain femininity 
	about it, a softness about the mouth and a kind of arch 
	womanliness about the brows.

	Calmly, Norman places the blanket about his shoulders, as if 
	it were a cashmere shawl. CAMERA REMAINS in a position so 
	that our view of Norman is a FULL ONE. When the shawl is in 
	position, and Norman is settled, we HEAR, OVER SHOT, the 
	voice of his mother, coming from the calm of his thoughts.

				MOTHER'S VOICE (O.S.)
		It's sad... when a mother has to 
		speak the words that condemn her own 
		son... but I couldn't allow them to 
		believe that I would commit murder.
			(A pause)
		They'll put him away now... as I 
		should have... years ago. He was 
		always... bad. And in the end, he 
		intended to tell them I killed those 
		girls... and that man. As if I could 
		do anything except just sit and 
		stare... like one of his stuffed 
		birds.
			(A pause)
		Well, they know I can't even move a 
		finger. And I won't. I'll just sit 
		here and be quiet. Just in case they 
		do... suspect me.

	A fly buzzes close, and then continues buzzing and flying 
	about Norman's face.

				MOTHER'S VOICE (V.O.)
		They're probably watching me.  Well, 
		let them. Let them see what kind of 
		a person I am.
			(A pause, as the fly 
			lights on Norman's 
			hand)
		I'm not going to swat that fly. I 
		hope they are watching. They'll see... 
		they'll see... and they'll know... 
		and they'll say... 'why, she wouldn't 
		even harm a fly...'

	Norman continues to gaze ahead into nothing.

					SCENE BEGINS TO DISSOLVE SLOWLY TO:

	THE SWAMP

	As END TITLES FADE IN, we see the swamp, the chain of a tow-
	truck. The chain is attached to Mary's car. The car is coming 
	out of the swamp.

							FADE OUT

					 THE END


Psycho



Writers :   Robert Bloch  Joseph Stefano
Genres :   Horror  Thriller


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