Psycho (1960)
by Joseph Stefano. Based on the novel by Robert Bloch.
Revised December 1, 1959.
More info about this movie on imdb.com

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