Basic Instinct

AN I.A. MAN: I want you in Dr. Gardner's office at nine o'clock. You're out of control, Curran.

NICK: Who are you guys gonna sell my file to this time?

NICK: Come on -- I'm going to storm into his office in front of everybody in the afternoon and then that night I'm going to kill him? I'd have to be really dumb to do that.

AN I.A. MAN: Going after him before gets you off the hook for killing him that's your alibi.

AN I.A. MAN: There's no smoking in this building.

NICK: What are you gonna do -- charge me with smoking?

NICK: Yeah, I was drinking.

AN I.A. MAN: When did you start drinking again?

NICK: A couple days ago.

AN I.A. MAN: Where were you tonight?

NICK: Home. Watching TV.

AN I.A. MAN: All night?

NICK: Yeah.

AN I.A. MAN: Were you drinking?

NICK: Okay. I went after him. I lost my temper.

AN I.A. MAN: Do you have any evidence that he showed your psychiatric file to anyone?

NICK: No.

ANDREWS: Hey, that's Dr. Gardner, isn't it?

NICK: Bring 1976 up.

ANDREWS: I can get my butt kicked for this. You're not supposed to be in here.

NICK: It's not gonna take long, Sam.

ANDREWS: The boat blew. There was a leak in the gas line. There were two previous repairs. There was a five-mil policy on both of 'em. A real heavy investigation. Zilch. Goose-egg. It was an accident.

NICK: Thanks.

ANDREWS: Take care, you hear?

NICK: Did you find out about her parents?

ANDREWS: You're on leave, man. You're on psycho leave. I'm talking to a possible whacko here.

NICK: You know I'm whacko, Sam, what'd you find?

ANDREWS: We got a call from Berkeley P.D. There was a killing. A professor. Icepick. In his bed. Multiple stab wounds. 1977.

NICK: She was there, wasn't she?

NICK: Don't! I know about your husband. You still like girls, Beth?

BETH: What?

NICK: Put your fucking hands up! Don't move.

BETH: I got a message on my machine to meet Gus here. Where is he?

BETH: What are you doing here?

NICK: Put your hands up!

NICK: You should do something about this lock.

BETH: She's evil. She's brilliant. Be careful, Nick.

NICK: Why did you change your name?

BETH: I got married. He was on staff at the clinic. I was down in Salinas. It didn't... last long.

BETH: She's really sick you know. Don't you know what she's doing? She knows I went to Berkeley. She knows I knew Noah. She makes up that story about me. She's handing you somebody who's obsessed with he her.

NICK: She didn't hand you to me. She doesn't even know who you are. She told me about Lisa Henderson.

BETH: She knew you'd find out who Lisa Henderson is. You're a good cop -- what did she do? Tell you casually and make it seem irrelevant? Did she tell you in bed, Nick? That's how I'd do it.

BETH: I did dye my hair. It didn't have anything to do with her. I was a redhead for a while, too.

NICK: Did you know Noah Goldstein?

BETH: I had him in two classes.

NICK: You saw all the reports, Beth!

BETH: She told you, didn't she?

NICK: What did she tell me, Beth?

BETH: I slept with her once in school. I was just a kid. I was experimenting. It was just that one time. She developed a... fixation... on me. She styled her hair like mine. She wore the same kind of clothes I did. It scared me.

BETH: What do you want, Nick?

NICK: Tell me about Catherine.

NICK: What is this interest you've got in her?

BETH: My interest is in you, not in her. She seduces people, she manipulates --

NICK: I thought you hardly know her.

BETH: I know the type. I'm a psychologist.

BETH: What is your problem? I'm trying to help you. Why won't you let me help you?

NICK: I don't need any help.

BETH: Yes you do. Something's on with you. You're sleeping with her, aren't you?

NICK: Beth. I didn't mean what I said. About --

BETH: Yes you did. I'm a big girl. I can handle it.

BETH: How do you know Catherine Tramell saw my reports?

NICK: She knows stuff about me that only you know.

BETH: She must really be something. From a clinical point of view.

NICK: What was she like in school?

BETH: I hardly knew her. She gave me the creeps, though. I don't know why.

BETH: It's the least I could do... considering I got you into this mess with those reports.

NICK: No. I mean it, thank you.

NICK: You did it for me.

BETH: Yes. I care about you. I did it for you.

NICK: I don't owe you anything; you don't owe me anything. We went to bed -- what was it? -- ten or fifteen times? It wasn't memorable enough to carry any obligations.

BETH: Sometimes I really hate you.

NICK: Yeah? Well why don't you find some friendly therapist and work some of that hostility out. But take my advice. Put a little more life into it than you usually do.

NICK: It's Internal Affairs, isn't it?

BETH: No, Nick, please --

NICK: Who?

BETH: Nilsen.

BETH: It's a confidential psychiatric record, it'd be illegal --She backs into a wall. She looks very scared. He comes very close to her -- puts an arm behind her to the wall.

NICK: Don't, Beth. Don't lie to me.

BETH: What are you talking about, Nick -- what's wrong with you?

NICK: Who's got access to my goddamn file?

NICK: I need a cigarette.

BETH: I thought you quit.

BETH: We were in some of the same classes.

NICK: Why didn't you tell me?

BETH: What was she like?

NICK: Who?

BETH: Catherine Tramell.

NICK: She said what you said she'd say.

NICK: What are you doing here?

BETH: Baby-sitting. Rookie cop.

NICK: What else is new?

BETH: You okay?

NICK: Yeah.

BETH: You don't look so okay.

BETH: How's not smoking?

NICK: It's fucked -- now will you please tell I.A. that I'm just you average healthy totally fucked-up cop and let me get out of here?

BETH: Yes.

NICK: Thank you.

BETH: How about the booze?

NICK: It's been three months.

BETH: How about the coke?

NICK: No.

BETH: No?

NICK: No! I'm working my tail off. I'm off the sauce, I'm not even smoking anymore.

BETH: How is your -- personal life?

NICK: My sex life is fine. My sex life is pretty shitty actually since I stopped seeing you -- maybe I should think about my Electrolux again.

BETH: So -- how are things?

NICK: Things are fine. I told you. They're fine.

BETH: How are you, Nick?

NICK: I'm fine. Come on, Beth! You know I'm fine! How the hell long do I have to keep doing this?

BETH: As long as Internal Affairs wants you to, I suppose. Sit down, Nick.

NICK: It's bullshit. You know it is.

BETH: I know it is -- but sit down anyway so we can get it over with, okay?

CATHERINE: I hate rugrats.

NICK: We fuck like minks. We forget the rugrats. We live happily ever after.

CATHERINE: What do we do now, Nick?

NICK: We fuck like minks. We raise rugrats. We live happily ever after.

CATHERINE: What do you want, Nick? Flowers? I'll send you some flowers.

NICK: What is this -- some kind of... Joke? Are we playing games again?

CATHERINE: The games are over. You were right. It was the fuck of the century, Shooter.

CATHERINE: I finished my book.

NICK: How did it end?

CATHERINE: I told you. She kills him.

NICK: I have to do some research tomorrow.

CATHERINE: I'm very good at research. I'll help you.

NICK: No thanks.

CATHERINE: What are you researching?

NICK: I'm writing a book.

CATHERINE: Really. What are you writing about.

NICK: A detective. He falls for the wrong girl.

CATHERINE: What happens to them?

NICK: They fuck like minks, raise rugrats, and live happily ever after.

CATHERINE: It won't sell.

NICK: Why not?

CATHERINE: Somebody has to die.

NICK: Why?

CATHERINE: Somebody always does.

NICK: How'd you get in here?

CATHERINE: I decided to give you one more chance. I missed you.

NICK: You didn't not see me long enough to miss me.

CATHERINE: Did you miss me?

NICK: No.

CATHERINE: Come over here and tell me no.

CATHERINE: You still think I kill people, don't you?

NICK: No.

CATHERINE: Liar.

CATHERINE: You're not going to tell me what she's doing. I thought we weren't playing games anymore.

NICK: I did, too. She told me it was backwards -- she said you even styled your hair the way she did.

CATHERINE: I just thought I'd surprise you. What's the matter?

NICK: I found Lisa Henderson.

CATHERINE: Did you? What's she doing?

NICK: You like to hang out with murderers or what? Did you know Roxy --

CATHERINE: Of course I knew.

NICK: Can I talk to you a minute?

CATHERINE: Honey, why don't you go in the car? I'll be right there.

CATHERINE: What did he say?

NICK: He asked if I had an icepick in me yet.

CATHERINE: Funny.

CATHERINE: Do you believe me?

NICK: I don't know.

CATHERINE: I'll convince you.

CATHERINE: I'd read about your shootings in the papers. I decided to write a book about a detective. I wanted to know my character.

NICK: You paid $50,000 for your character?

CATHERINE: I would've paid more. I wanted to know everything about you. Then you came down here after Johnny got killed... it gave me a chance to get to know my character better.

NICK: What about the other night. What about last night? Was that to get to know your character?

CATHERINE: Maybe I'm losing interest in my book.

CATHERINE: I paid him $50,000 in cash for your psychiatric file.

NICK: When?

CATHERINE: About three months before I met you.

NICK: Why?

CATHERINE: You won't believe me.

NICK: Try me.

CATHERINE: No.

NICK: No?

CATHERINE: No more games, Nick. I'm tired of playing games!

NICK: I thought you didn't do adolescent secrets.

CATHERINE: I never have before.

NICK: Do you think she killed Johnny Boz?

CATHERINE: For what... to set me up? She loved me she wouldn't frame me.

NICK: Maybe she got jealous of Johnny Boz, too.

CATHERINE: No, she didn't... she never got jealous before... she got excited. I don't have luck with women. There was this girl I met while I was in college. I slept with her once. She started following me around, taking my picture. She dyed her hair, copied my clothes. Lisa something... Oberman. It was awful.

NICK: It's OK. It's OK.

CATHERINE: Make love to me.

CATHERINE: I should have known. I came into the house when you were down on the beach. She looked at me so strangely. She left right after you. I shouldn't have let her watch us. She wanted to watch me all the time. She tried to kill you, didn't she?

NICK: Did you like her to watch?

CATHERINE: Do you think I told her to kill You?

NICK: No.

CATHERINE: Everybody that I care about dies.

CATHERINE: You're in over your head.

NICK: I know.

CATHERINE: You shouldn't play this game.

NICK: I don't have a choice.

NICK: I thought that business with the scarf was pretty nifty.

CATHERINE: I told you I had a vivid imagination.

NICK: Are you kidding? You think this is my idea of morning-after conversation?

CATHERINE: Do you want personal insights and adolescent secrets? I don't do those.

NICK: How's your shoulder?

CATHERINE: Fine. How's your back?

NICK: It hurts.

NICK: How about Roxy? Is she a fuck to the century, too?

CATHERINE: Do you want her to join us sometime?

NICK: What did you think?

CATHERINE: I thought it was a pretty good beginning.

CATHERINE: Did you think it was so special?

NICK: I told her it was the fuck of the century.

NICK: Maybe she saw something she didn't see before.

CATHERINE: She's seen everything before.

CATHERINE: I'm leaving the house around midnight. In case you're going to follow me. I'm going down to Johnny's club.

NICK: I'll meet you there.

NICK: How's your new book?

CATHERINE: I'm getting deeper and deeper into my character.

CATHERINE: You're not going to stop following me around now just because you're on leave -- are you?

NICK: No.

CATHERINE: Good. I'd miss you. You can get into trouble, though. You're not really a cop anymore.

NICK: I'll risk it.

CATHERINE: Why take the risk?

NICK: To see if I can get away with it.

NICK: When did you write it?

CATHERINE: You mean did I write it before my parents died?

NICK: Yes.

CATHERINE: No. I wrote it years afterwards.

NICK: Why does he do it?

CATHERINE: To see if he can get away with it.

CATHERINE: Aren't you going to thank me?

NICK: What's it about?

CATHERINE: A boy kills his parents. They have a plane. He makes it look like an accident.

CATHERINE: Say -- "What do you want from me, Catherine?"

NICK: What do you want from me, Catherine?

CATHERINE: Cheers. My friends call me Catherine.

NICK: What did Bobby Vasquez used to call you?

CATHERINE: Bitch mostly, but he meant it affectionately. You don't have any coke, do you? I love coke and Jack Daniel's.

NICK: There's Pepsi in the fridge.

CATHERINE: It's not the same thing, is it?

NICK: What if I asked you not to call me Shooter?

CATHERINE: What if I call you Nicky?

NICK: My wife used to call me that.

CATHERINE: I know, Nicky, but I like it.

NICK: What did you pay Nilsen?

CATHERINE: Isn't he the policeman that you shot, Shooter?

NICK: Jack Daniel's okay? It's gonna have to be.

CATHERINE: Fine.

NICK: Ice?

CATHERINE: Please.

CATHERINE: You're not easy to figure. I'm just very good at figuring.

NICK: Don't get too cocky.

CATHERINE: Why not?

NICK: You can make a mistake.

CATHERINE: Not me.

NICK: How exactly did you hear?

CATHERINE: I have attorneys. They have friends. I have friends. Money buys you a lot of attorneys and friends.

NICK: I don't know about that I don't have any money I don't have any attorneys Gus is my only real friend.

CATHERINE: I wasn't talking about real friends. Why doesn't Gus like me.

NICK: I like you.

CATHERINE: Do you?

NICK: Yeah. Would you like to come up and have a drink?

NICK: I didn't.

CATHERINE: Yes, you did. They never tested you, did they? But Internal Affairs knew.

CATHERINE: What happened, Nick? Did you get sucked into it? Did you like it too much?

NICK: No.

CATHERINE: Noah was my counselor in my freshman year. That's probably where I got the idea for the icepick. For my book. Funny how the subconscious works. Hazel is my friend.

NICK: She wiped out her whole family.

CATHERINE: Yes. She's helped me understand homicidal impulse.

NICK: Didn't you study it in school?

CATHERINE: Only in theory. You know all about homicidal impulse, don't you, shooter? Not in theory -- in practice.

NICK: Tell me about Professor Goldstein.

CATHERINE: There's a name from the past.

NICK: You want a name from the present? How about Hazel Dobkins?

NICK: It was an accident. They got in the line of fire.

CATHERINE: Four shootings in five years. All accidents.

NICK: They were drug buys. I was a vice cop.

NICK: You tell me.

CATHERINE: I don't know. But you do.

NICK: I'd like to ask you a few more questions.

CATHERINE: I'd like to ask you some, too.

CATHERINE: Would you like a drink? I was just going to have one.

NICK: No, thanks.

NICK: Am I... disturbing you?

CATHERINE: No. Come in.

NICK: How do you know all this stuff about me?

CATHERINE: You know all about me.

NICK: I don't know anything that isn't police business.

CATHERINE: You know I don't like to wear any underwear, don't you, Nick?

NICK: I passed.

CATHERINE: You see? We're both innocent, Nick.

CATHERINE: If I were guilty, and if I wanted to beat that machine, it wouldn't be tiring. It wouldn't be tiring at all.

NICK: Why not?

CATHERINE: Because I'm a professional liar. I spend most of my waking hours dwelling on my lies. For my writing.

CATHERINE: I'm tired.

NICK: It's got to be tiring to beat that machine.

NICK: Sure.

CATHERINE: Thanks.

NICK: Even though you were fucking him.

CATHERINE: You still get the pleasure. Didn't you ever fuck anybody else while you were married, Nick?

NICK: How did you feel when I told you Johnny Boz had died -- that day at the beach.

CATHERINE: I felt somebody had read my book and was playing a game.

NICK: But you didn't hurt --

CATHERINE: No.

NICK: Because you didn't love him --

CATHERINE: That's right.

NICK: How did you feel when he died?

CATHERINE: I loved him. I hurt.

NICK: You like playing games, don't you?

CATHERINE: I've got a degree in psych. It goes with the turf. Games are fun.

NICK: Writing a book about it gives you an alibi for not killing him.

CATHERINE: Yes it does, doesn't it?

NICK: But you said you liked men to use their hands.

CATHERINE: No. I said I liked Johnny to use his hands. I don't give any rules, Nick. I go with the flow.

NICK: I told them you wouldn't want to hide.

CATHERINE: I have nothing to hide.

CATHERINE: Did I miss something?

NICK: I told them you wouldn't want an attorney present.

NICK: What's your new book about?

CATHERINE: A detective. He falls for the wrong woman.

NICK: I told you -- I quit.

CATHERINE: It won't last.

NICK: I thought you were out of cigarettes.

CATHERINE: I found some in my purse; would you like one?

CATHERINE: Do you have a cigarette?

NICK: I don't smoke.

CATHERINE: Yes, you do.

NICK: I quit.

NICK: Do you always keep old newspapers around?

CATHERINE: Only when they make interesting reading.

NICK: Ms. Tramell, we'd like you to come downtown and answer some questions for us.

CATHERINE: Are you arresting me?

NICK: If that's the way you want to play it.

NICK: How long were you having sex with him?

CATHERINE: About a year and a half.

NICK: Were you with him last night?

CATHERINE: Yes.

NICK: Did you leave the club with him?

CATHERINE: Yes.

NICK: Did you go home with him?

CATHERINE: No. We had a drink at the club. We left together. I came here. He went home.

NICK: Was there anyone with you last night?

CATHERINE: No. I wasn't in the mood to have sex with anyone last night.

NICK: How long were you dating him?

CATHERINE: I wasn't dating him. I was fucking him.

NICK: I'm De...

CATHERINE: I know who you are.

CORRIGAN: Did you kill Mr. Boz, Ms. Tramell?

CATHERINE: I'd have to be pretty stupid to write a book about a killing and then kill him the way I described in my book. I'd be announcing myself as the killer. I'm not stupid.

CORRIGAN: Did you ever engage in sado- masochistic activity with him?

CATHERINE: Exactly what do you have in mind, Mr. Corrigan.

CORRIGAN: Did you ever tie him up?

CATHERINE: No.

CORRIGAN: Would you tell us the nature of your relationship with Mr. Boz?

CATHERINE: I had sex with him for about a year and a half. I liked having sex with him.

CORRIGAN: There is no smoking in this building, Ms. Tramell.

CATHERINE: What are you going to do? Charge me with smoking?

CORRIGAN: I'm John Corrigan. I'm an assistant district attorney, Ms. Tramell. Can we get you anything? Would you like some coffee?

CATHERINE: No thank you.

CATHERINE: In the beginning. Then I got to like what he did for me.

GUS: That's pretty cold, ain't it, lady?

CATHERINE: I'm a writer, I use people for what I write. You write what you know. Let the world beware.

GUS: What kind of drugs?

CATHERINE: Cocaine.

CATHERINE: The answer is no. I didn't kill him.

GUS: Do you use drugs, Ms. Tramell?

CATHERINE: Sometimes.

CATHERINE: It teaches you to lie.

GUS: How's that?

CATHERINE: You make it up, but it has to be believable. They call it suspension of disbelief.

GUS: I like that. "Suspension of Disbelief."

GUS: You workin' on another book?

CATHERINE: Yes I am.

GUS: It must really be somehtin' --makin' stuff up all the time.

GUS: You have the right to an attorney.

CATHERINE: Why would I need an attorney?

CATHERINE: I don't really feel like talking anymore.

GUS: Listen, lady, we can do this downtown if you --

CATHERINE: Read me my rights and arrest me and I'll go downtown.

CATHERINE: How did he die?

GUS: He was murdered.

CATHERINE: Really. Maybe that's why you're from Homicide. How?

NICK: Was she ever a suspect?

DETECTIVE: Nope. There was some talk; it never panned.

NICK: What kind of talk?

DETECTIVE: The usual -- a girlfriend.

NICK: He had a girlfriend?

DETECTIVE: Nope. She did. Like I say. It never panned.

NICK: Thanks.

DETECTIVE: I hope I helped you out.

NICK: You did.

DETECTIVE: He was walking home from work. They only lived a coupla blocks from the clinic. Somebody drove by and shot him.

NICK: What was the weapon?

DETECTIVE: .38 revolver. Never recovered.

NICK: Were there ever any suspects?

DETECTIVE: No suspects, no motive. Unsolved.

NICK: Was his wife ever a suspect?

DETECTIVE: I had another one of you guys down here from Frisco -- about a year ago -- he asked me the same question. What's this about anyway?

NICK: Routine.

DETECTIVE: Yeah, he said it was routine too. Now it's two guys saying it's routine.

NICK: Do you remember his name?

DETECTIVE: Nope, can't say that I do.

NICK: Nilsen?

DETECTIVE: That's him.

GUS: Where the hell you goin'?

NICK: I'm going with you.

GUS: She said alone -- suite 405. It ain't gonna take long.

GUS: She'd have to be nuttier than a twenty-pound Christmas fruitcake. She's not the one who hangs out with multiple murderers -- your girlfriend is.

NICK: She's a writer -- it's part of what she does.

GUS: Goddamn writers -- all they do is use up trees and ruin people's eyes. There's gotta be somebody at Berkeley who knows what the hell happened.

NICK: I know what happened. Catherine told me what happened.

GUS: You got goddamn tweety-birds flutterin' around your head, that's what you got. You think you're gonna fuck like minks, raise rugrats, and live happily ever after? Oh, man.

GUS: So Nilsen had a report on her -- so what. You don't know what the hell was in it?

NICK: Catherine told me what was in it.

GUS: If she's telling you the truth.

NICK: Don't you get it, Gus? If Beth killed Johnny Boz to frame Catherine -- she wouldn't want anyone to know what happened at Berkeley. It gives her the motive to kill Nilsen.

GUS: How did she know Nilsen knew about it -- if it happened?

NICK: He was I.A. He probably asked her about it.

NICK: I'm not sure anymore she did it.

GUS: Which one you talkin' about now, son? We know ole Hazel did it; we know young Roxy did it -- and the other one Well, hell, she's got that magna come lawdy pussy on her that done fried up your brain.

NICK: I don't understand what the hell's going on here, pop.

GUS: Ain't that hard, son. This young farmgirl, she got tired of all that attention goin' to her little brothers -- she fixed 'em. Just like 'ole Hazel Dobkins fixed her whole family -- except young Roxy here, she didn't use a wedding present. She used Daddy's razor.

GUS: You know that stuff they say about how you can judge people by their friends?

NICK: I don't believe it.

GUS: Why not?

NICK: You're my friend, Gus.

NICK: Catherine says you don't like her.

GUS: She's right. You got an icepick in you yet?

NICK: You all right, pop? You want me to drive you?

GUS: In that little pissant car of yours? Hell, no. I ain't gettin' no back pain disability retirement -- I'm gettin' me a full pension and a real gold-plate Seiko watch.

NICK: Come on, I'll drive you in this thing.

GUS: You think I'd let you drive my Cadillac car? I ain't lettin' no hear-up-his-ass person drive my Cadillac car.

NICK: It doesn't make sense. She didn't know me three months ago.

GUS: Maybe it wasn't her that paid him. Maybe the money was for somethin' else. How the fuck do I know? I'm just an old city cowboy tryin' not to fall outta his saddle.

NICK: I'm not afraid of her.

GUS: Why the hell not?

NICK: I don't know. I'm just not.

GUS: That's her pussy talkin' --He gets a real nasty look from a very fat woman eating a cheeseburger. He winks at her. The woman looks away from him, shaking her head.

NICK: You feeling better?

GUS: I feel fine!

GUS: You... fucked her! Goddamn dumb sonofabitch... You fucked her! Goddamn, you are one dumb sonofabitch --

NICK: I'm not gonna get AIDS, pop --don't worry about it. I always use a rubber.

GUS: I don't give a... flyin'... chili- bean... fart about AIDS!

NICK: You oughta use a rubber, pop. You really should.

GUS: What in the hell for? You think I'm gettin' any at my age? I don't like blue-haired women. I don't like 'em.

NICK: You don't like punk rockers?

GUS: Say what?

NICK: Easy there, partner -- I wasn't there.

GUS: I went over last night, too.

NICK: I wasn't there last night, either.

GUS: Forgive me for askin', son, and I don't mean to belabor the obvious, but why is it that you've got your head so far up your own ass?

NICK: She want to play? Fine. I can play.

GUS: Everybody that she plays with dies.

NICK: I know what that's like.

NICK: I don't think it's funny.

GUS: Well, hell, son, it's got a certain ring to it, I'll say that.

NICK: You think I --

GUS: I don't son, but I got the minority opinion.

NICK: She knows where I live and breathe. She's coming after me.

GUS: What is it you got between you?

NICK: I don't know.

GUS: Somethin', though.

GUS: No, sir. You won't. There's smoke off yonder on the horizon. They're gonna want your badge.

NICK: I got tired of being played with.

GUS: You sure got real conclusive ways of demonstrating that.

GUS: What's goin' down, son?

NICK: Nothin' I'll be okay, pop.

NICK: Do you remember a case -- 1956 -- Hazel Dobkins?

GUS: Hell yes! Couldn't get it outta my head for years. Still can't. Nice little kids -- nice husband, wasn't porkin' around -- no financial problems. One day -- outta the clear blue sky -- she does 'em. All of 'em. Used a knife. He got for a wedding present. Didn't even deny it. Sweet as honey. Said she didn't know why she done it.

NICK: Was she ever suspect?

GUS: No, sir. They never even got a statement from her.

GUS: Ain't you go nothin' better to do than to come in here and jack off the damn machine?

NICK: What are you doing here, Pop?

GUS: I came in here to jack off the damn machine. One dead psychology professor. Noah Goldstein. Dr. Noah Goldstein. And guess what? He was her counselor.

GUS: What you doin', son?

NICK: It's my first drink in three months. That okay with you, pop? She doesn't know me. I never saw her before Gus and I talked to her.

GUS: How'd it go, son?

NICK: She misses me.

GUS: Hallelujah.

GUS: Ain't that cute? They got his and her Pig-assos, son.

NICK: I didn't know you knew who Picasso was, Gus.

GUS: I'm a smart sonofabitch. I just hide it.

NICK: Talcott doesn't usually show up at the office 'till after his 18 holes. What are they nervous about?

GUS: They're executives. They're nervous about everything.

GUS: Who was this fuckin' guy?

NICK: Rock and roll, Gus. Johnny Boz.

GUS: I never heard of him.

NICK: Before your time, pop. Mid-sixties. Five or six hits. He's got a club down in the Fillmore now.

GUS: Not now he don't.

GUS: You're already gettin' psychological input, son.

LT. WALKER: Go stick your head in a tub of ice water. See where she leads.

LT. WALKER: You look like dogshit.

GUS: He looks a little shrunk, that's all.

GUS: Maybe it's for old-time's sake.

LT. WALKER: Sometimes I think he started banging her just to get himself off the hook with Internal Affairs.

GUS: He ain't that way. He's got heart.

LT. WALKER: Yeah. I know.

GUS: Not unless she got up in the ring and turned into one mean sonofabitch.

LT. WALKER: Maybe she did, Gus. Maybe she grew herself an Afro and learned a left hook and put shoe polish on her face. Let's polygraph her again and ask her about it.

GUS: Maybe the maid did it.

LT. WALKER: She's 54 years old and weighs 240 pounds.

GUS: What was the motive?

THE WOMAN: She said she didn't know herself, just sort of did it on impulse. The razor just happened to be there.

GUS: Were you with him last night?

THE WOMAN: You're looking for Catherine, not me.

GUS: Homicide.

THE WOMAN: What do you want?

GUS: When was the last time you saw John Boz?

THE WOMAN: Is he dead?

LT. WALKER: You knew her, didn't you?

NICK: Gus and I talked to her at Tramell's house. All we did was write her name down.

LT. WALKER: I told you to stay away from Tramell.

NICK: Yeah. But you didn't tell me to stay away from her car.

LT. WALKER: Tell me again. I want to hear you say it again.

NICK: It was an accident.

LT. WALKER: You're driving around North Beach for no particular reason and this car won't get out of the way --

NICK: I don't think she meant to go off the hill, do you?

LT. WALKER: Don't fuck with me, Nick. I don't need a reason to put your ass in a sling.

LT. WALKER: I.A.'s going to talk to you more about Nilsen. They're handling the investigation, we're not. Stay in touch with Dr. Gardner, it'll help on the evaluation.

NICK: She killed him.

LT. WALKER: Beth? Now you've got Beth killing people?

NICK: Catherine Tramell. It's part of her game.

LT. WALKER: First you've got her buying your file. Now you've got her killing Nilsen. Forget her, willya? Go someplace. Sit in the sun. Get away from this goddamn fog. Get her out of your system.

NICK: You don't but it, do you? She knew nobody would but it. She knew I'd say she did it. And she knew nobody would buy it.

LT. WALKER: I'll ask you once, Nick -- for the record did you kill him?

NICK: No.

LT. WALKER: Gus -- go over to Berkeley. Harrigan -- find out what else she's published. Andrews -- get the files on her parents' accident. Carbon Beth on everything. I want some psychological input on this Andrews and Harrigan go; Nick is left there with Gus.

NICK: What about me?

NICK: Fuck you, Phil.

LT. WALKER: Fuck you, too Nick.

NICK: Now what?

LT. WALKER: What now what? Now nothing. She passed the polygraph. That's it.

NICK: She knew she could beat it. That's why she asked to take it.

LT. WALKER: How the fuck do you know? What is it with you and this broad anyway?

NICK: Come on, Phil. You're not gonna let this slide. What about her parents? What about what else she's published? At least we should get the stuff to see if we find anything else that's an amazing real-life coincidence.

LT. WALKER: Her parents died in an accident. I don't care what else she's written. What are you -- a book critic?

NICK: How did they die? Was there an investigation?

LT. WALKER: How you're saying she killed her parents? Did she kill Bobby Vasquez, too?

LT. WALKER: You sure?

NICK: I'm sure.

LT. WALKER: What is all this "Nick" stuff -- Nick would you like a cigarette. Nick can you give me a ride.

NICK: She didn't ask me for the ride. She asked anybody.

LT. WALKER: And you volunteered.

NICK: So what do we do -- nothing?

LT. WALKER: We bring her in for questioning.

NICK: I love it. She's got a hundred million bucks. She fucks fighters and rock and roll stars. And she's got a degree in screwing with peoples' heads.

LT. WALKER: You forgot her degree in literature. She's a writer. She published a novel last year under a pen name. Do you want to know what it's about?

NICK: Are you kidding me?

LT. WALKER: Formerly engaged to Roberto Vasquez, deceased --

LT. WALKER: Keep your three o'clock.

NICK: Do you want me to work the case, Phil, or do you want me to --

LT. WALKER: I said keep it.

LT. WALKER: He left the club with his girlfriend about midnight. That's the last time anybody saw him.

NICK: What was it?

TALCOTT: We know you're not stupid, Ms. Tramell.

LT. WALKER: Maybe that's what you're counting on to get you off the hook.

TALCOTT: She's got enough money to burn this whole department down.

LT. WALKER: She was the last person seen with the guy -- I'll take the responsibility.

TALCOTT: It's yours.

LT. WALKER: She's a suspect.

TALCOTT: On what basis?

LT. WALKER: Catherine Tramell. Age 30. No priors, no convictions. Double major, magnum cum laude, Berkeley, 1980. Literature and Psychology. Daughter, sole survivor -- Marvin and Elaine Tramell, killed in a boating accident, 1978, Catherine Tramell sole heir. Estimated assets $110 million.

THE WOMAN: He died -- about five or six years ago.

NICK: He was shot.

THE WOMAN: No Lisa Anderson, detective.

NICK: Can there be some mistake?

THE WOMAN: Only if you're making it.

THE WOMAN: Anderson. Jack W. Donald M. I'm sorry. No Lisa.

NICK: Did you check all four years?

THE WOMAN: Yes I did.

NICK: Can you check again?

NICK: How old was she when this happened?

THE WOMAN: Fourteen. We seal juvenile records until they're deceased. That's why you didn't find it in your computer.

NICK: Who are you?

THE WOMAN: I'm Roxy. I'm her -- friend.

NICK: Why do you think he's dead?

THE WOMAN: You wouldn't be here otherwise, would you?

NICK: We're sorry to disturb you, we'd like to ask you some --

THE WOMAN: Are you vice?