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Scripts: Psycho (revised draft, 01/Dec/1959) - part 8

 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