All language subtitles for Basic.Instinct.1992

Oh, God. Oh.

- How are you doing, Nick?
- Hi.

Morning, detective.

You got to get back, folks.

- Howdy.
- Morning.

Up there.

- How's it going, guys?
- Morning, Pete.

Who was this fuckin' guy?

Rock and roll, Gus. Johnny Boz.

- I never heard of him.
- Before your time, cowboy.

- Hey, Ronnie. Where are they hiding?
- Upstairs, to the right.

Mid-sixties. He had five or six hits.
He's got a club down in the Fillmore now.

Not now he don't.

- Do we have a time of death.
- Almost.

- You guys know Captain Talcott?
- Sure.

- What's the Chief's office doin' here.
- Observing.

What's it say, doc?

Ninety-two degrees.
It's about six hours.

Puts time of death around,
uh, 2:00 a.m. plus or minus.

Can somebody close the drapes over there?

- Geez, what a mess.
- Maid came in about an hour ago.

Found the body. She's not a live-in.

Maybe the maid did it.

She's 54 years old
and weighs 240 pounds.

No bruises on the body.

- It ain't the maid.
- Never know.

Sorry.

He left the club
with his girlfriend about midnight.

That's the last time anybody saw him.

- What was it?
- Ice pick.

Left it on the coffee table
in the living room.

There's cum stains
all over the sheets.

Very impressive.

He got off before he got offed.

Gentlemen, this is sensitive.

Mr. Boz was a major contributor
to the mayor's campaign.

He was Chairman of the Board
of the Palace of Fine Arts--

I thought you said
he was a rock and roll star.

He was a retired rock and roll star.

A civic-minded,
very respectable rock and roll star.

What's that over there?

It looks like some civic-minded,
very respectable cocaine.

Listen to me, Curran.
I'm gonna get a lot of heat on this.

I don't want any mistakes.

What's Boz's girlfriend's name?

Catherine Tramell, 162 Divisadero.

Always a pleasure, Captain.

He's up bright and early.

He doesn't usually punch in
till after his 18 holes.

Johnny and the mayor
must have been very tight.

- Hey.
- Yo.

Keep your three o'clock.

Do you want me to work the case, Phil--

- I said keep it.
- All right.

I'll keep it.

Morning. I'm Detective Curran,
this is Detective Moran.

San Francisco Police Department.

We'd like to speak to
a Ms. Catherine Tramell, please.

Come in.

Sit, please. Just a moment.

Ain't that cute?
They got his and hers Picasso's.

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

Sure I do. It says right here.

Hers is bigger.

Sorry to bother you.

Just got a couple of questions to ask.

- Are you vice?
- No, we're homicide.

What do you want?

When was the last time you saw John Boz?

Is he dead?

Why do you think he's dead?

Well, you wouldn't be here
otherwise, would you?

Were you with him last night?

You're looking for Catherine, not me.

Who are you?

I'm Roxy.

I'm her friend.

Well, Roxy, do you know
where your friend is?

She's out at the beach house at Stinson.
Seadrift. 1402.

Thanks.

You're wasting your time.

Catherine didn't kill him.

Gus...

Ms. Tramell?

Good afternoon. I'm Detective Curran,
this is Detective Moran.

- We're with the San Francisco Police--
- I know who you are.

So how did he die?

He was murdered.

Obviously.

- How was he murdered?
- With an ice pick.

How long were you dating him?

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

What are you? A pro?

No. I'm an amateur.

How long were you having sex with him?

About a year and a half.

- Were you with him last night?
- Yes.

Did you leave the club with him?

- Yes.
- Did you go home with him?

No. We had a drink at the club.
We left together.

He went home and I came out here.

Was there anyone with you last night?

No. I wasn't in the mood last night.

Let me ask you something, Ms. Tramell?

Are you sorry he's dead?

Yeah. I liked fucking him.

Look, I don't really feel
like talking anymore.

Listen, lady,
we can do this downtown if you want.

So read me my rights and arrest me,
and then I'll go downtown.

Otherwise, get the fuck out of here.

Please?

Nice girl.

I'm sorry, Beth. I got hung up in Stinson.

How are you, Nick?

I'm fine.

Oh, come on, Beth. You know I'm fine.

How long we gotta keep doing this?

As long as Internal Affairs wants you to,
I suppose. Have a seat.

It's bullshit, okay. You know it is.

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

So, how are things?

Things are fine. I told you, all right.
Things are fine.

How is your personal life?

My sex life is fine.

My sex life is actually pretty shitty
since I stopped seeing you.

Started developing calluses.

Sorry.

How's the booze?

Haven't had a drink in three months.

- What about the coke?
- No.

No?

No. No, I'm working my ass off,
I'm off the sauce.

I even stopped smoking.

How's not smoking?

It sucks.

Now, will you tell IA I'm just your
average healthy, totally fucked up cop,

and let me outta here?

Please?

Yes.

Thank you.

I still miss you, Nick.

- Hey, how you doing, Nick?
- Hi.

Talcott's in there. They're waiting.
How'd it go?

She misses me.

Boy, when that girl mates, it's for life.

All right. Let's start. Harrigan.

Well, we got
31 stab wounds, neck and the chest.

No usable prints, no forcible entry,
nothing missing.

No prints on the ice pick either.
You can pick it up at any K-mart.

The scarf was Hermes.
It's expensive.

They sell about 20,000 a year, worldwide.

The powder was cocaine,
high- quality, high-content.

He inhaled it; there were
minute quantities on his lips and penis.

Mr. Boz leaves five million dollars,
no direct survivors,

no criminal record.

Liked his drugs, he liked his girls,

- he liked his rock and roll.
- He liked the mayor, too, right?

What about his girlfriend?

Is she relevant here?
Is she a suspect?

- She's a suspect.
- On what basis?

Girlfriend: Catherine Tramell. Age 30.
No priors, no convictions.

Magnum cum laude at Berkeley, 1983.

Double major. Literature and Psychology.

Daughter, sole survivor,
Marvin and Elaine Tramell,

killed in a boating accident, 1978,
Catherine Tramell sole heir.

Estimated assets $110 million.

You're shitting me.

Formerly engaged
to Manual Vasquez, deceased--

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Manny Vasquez?

Manny Vasquez,
former middleweight contender,

killed in the ring Atlantic City, 1984.

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.

You forgot about her degree in literature.
She's a writer.

She published a novel last year
under a pen name.

Wanna know what it's about?

It's about a retired rock and roll star
who gets murdered by his girlfriend.

Page 67, cowboy.

You know how she does the boyfriend?

With an icepick...

in bed...

his hands tied with a white silk scarf.

Dr. Garner?

I've asked Dr. Lamott to consult with us.
This isn't really my turf.

Dr. Lamott teaches the pathology
of psychopathic behavior at Stanford

and is also a member

of the Justice Department's
Psychological Profile team.

Dr. Lamott?

I see two possibilities.

One. The person who wrote this book
is your murderer

and acted out the killing described
in ritualistic, literal detail.

Two. Someone who wants to harm the writer

read the book and enacted the killing
described to incriminate her.

What if the writer did it?
Then what are we dealing with?

You're dealing with a devious,
diabolical mind.

You see, this book had to have
been written at least six months,

maybe even years, before it was published.

Which means that the writer
had to have at least planned the crime,

in the subconscious, back then.

Now, the fact that she carried it out

indicates psychopathic obsessive behavior
in terms not only of the killing itself,

but also in terms of the applied
advance defense mechanism.

You know,
sometimes I can't tell shit from shinola,

Doc.

What was all that you just said?

- She intended the book to be her alibi.
- Correct.

She's gonna say, "Do you think
I'd be dumb enough to kill anyone

in the exact way I described in my book?

I wouldn't do that,
because then I know I'd be the suspect.”

So what if it's not the writer?
What if it's, uh...

someone who read the book?

You're dealing then
with someone so obsessed

that he, or she, is willing to kill
an irrelevant and innocent victim

in order to place the blame
on the person who wrote that book.

I'm talking about a deep-seeded,
obsessional hatred;

and an utter lack of respect
for human life.

So we got a once-in-a-lifetime,
top-of-the-line

loony-tune either way you cut it.
That's what you're saying, right, Doc?

You're dealing with someone
very dangerous...

and very ill.

Come on, you know
there's no case here.

You've got no physical evidence.

She hasn't got an alibi.

Okay, she hasn't got an alibi,
she hasn't got a motive either.

Believe me. Her defense would just beat us
to death with this copycat thing.

Anybody who read the book
could have done it.

So what do you wanna do now? Nothing?

We call her in for questioning.

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

She was the last person
seen with the guy, Captain Talcott.

I'll take the responsibility.

It's yours.

It won't do any good. She'll just waltz in
with some superstar lawyer

who'll get us all canned
for wasting the taxpayer's money.

- That's exactly what she'll do.
- No she won't.

I don't think she'll hide behind anybody.

I don't think she's gonna hide at all.

Then she's as crazy as you are, Curran.

You know what they say:
It takes one to know one.

Ms. Tramell, we like you to come downtown
to answer a few questions for us.

Are you arresting me?

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

Could I change
into something more appropriate?

It'll only take a minute. Come on in.

Make yourselves comfortable.
I'll be right back.

- Hey, Gus.
- Hmm?

So how long
is this gonna take?

I don't know.

Do you always keep old newspapers around?

Only when they make interesting reading.

- I'm ready.
- You have the right to an attorney.

Why would I need an attorney?

Do you have a cigarette?

I don't smoke.

Yes, you do.

- I quit.
- Congratulations.

Thought you didn't have any cigarettes.

Oh, I found some in my pocket.
Would you like one?

I told you, I quit.

It won't last.

You working on another book?

Yes I am.

It must really be something,
making stuff up all the time.

Yeah, it teaches you to lie.

How's that?

You make stuff up,
it has to be believable.

It's called suspension of disbelief.

I like that. "Suspension of disbelief."

What's your new book about?

A detective. He falls for the wrong woman.

What happens?

She kills him.

I'm John Correli, Ms. Tramell.
Assistant district attorney.

I have to inform you
this session's beings taped.

This is Captain Talcott.

- My pleasure.
- And Lieutenant Walker.

- Hi.
- Can we get you anything? A cup of coffee?

No, thank you.

Are your attorneys gonna join us?

Ms. Tramell has waived her rights
to an attorney.

Did I miss something?

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

- Oh.
- Why have you waived your right

to an attorney, Ms. Tramell?

Why did you think I wouldn't want one?

I told them you wouldn't want to hide.

I have nothing to hide.

There is, uh, no smoking
in this building, Ms. Tramell.

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

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

I had sex with him for about
a year and a half.

I liked having sex with him.

He wasn't afraid of experimenting.

I like men like that.

Men who give me pleasure.

He gave me a lot of pleasure.

You ever, uh...

engage in any sado-masochistic activity?

Exactly what did you have in mind,
Mr. Correli?

- Did you ever tie him up?
- No.

You never tied him up.

No.

Johnny liked to use his hands too much.

I like hands and fingers.

You describe a, uh,
white silk scarf in your book.

I've always had a fondness
for white silk scarves.

They're good for all occasions.

But you said you liked men
to use their hands.

- Didn't you?
- No.

I said I liked Johnny to use his hands

I don't make any rules, Nick.
I go with the flow.

Did you kill Mr. Boz, Ms. Tramell?

I'd have to be pretty stupid
to write a book about a killing

and then kill somebody the way
I described it in my book.

I'd be announcing myself as the killer.

I'm not stupid.

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

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

Writing the book gives you an alibi.

Yes it does, doesn't it?

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

Do you use drugs, Ms. Tramell?

- Sometimes.
- Did you ever do drugs with Mr. Boz?

- Sure.
- What kind of drugs?

Cocaine.

Have you ever fucked on cocaine, Nick?

It's nice.

You like playing games, don't you?

I have a degree in psychology.
It goes with the turf. Games are fun.

How about boxing? That's a game.
Was that fun too?

I don't think that's relevant
to this inquiry.

Boxing was fun till Manny died.

How did you feel when he died?

I loved him. It hurt.

How did you feel when I told you
Johnny Boz had died?

I felt like someone who read my book,
and was playing a game.

- But it didn't hurt?
- No.

Because you didn't love him...
That's right.

...even though you were fucking him.

You still get the pleasure.

Didn't you ever fuck anybody else
when you were married, Nick?

How did you know he was married?

Maybe I was just guessing.

What difference does it make?

Would you like a cigarette, Nick?

- You two know each other?
- No.

No.

How did you meet Mr. Boz?

I wanted to write a book about the murder
of a retired rock and roll star.

I went down to his club, I picked him up.
Then I had sex with him.

You didn't feel anything for him.
You just had sex with him for your book.

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

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

I'm a writer, I use people
for what I write.

Let the world beware.

You want me to take a lie detector test?

Wait here, please.

No blips, no blood pressure variations,
no pulse variance.

Either she's telling the truth
or I've never seen anyone like her.

I guess that settles it.

- She's lying.
- Forget it. You can fool me.

-You cannot fool the machine.
-Trust me. It can be done.

And what makes you such an expert?

Cause I know people that have done it.

Thank you.

Yes. Thanks for coming in, Ms. Tramell.
Sorry to inconvenience you.

Could someone give me a ride home?

Sure.

Thank you.

Wanna get a drink?

Rough day?

Not really.

Beating that machine can't be easy.

If I was guilty,
and I wanted to beat that machine,

it wouldn't be hard.

Wouldn't be hard at all.

You took a lie detector test after you
shot those two people, didn't you?

I passed.

You see? We're both innocent, Nick.

You seem to know an awful lot about me.

You know an awful lot about me.

I don't know anything
that's not police business.

You know I don't wear any underwear.

Don't you, Nick?

Thanks for the ride.

- Get you another glass of wine?
- Yeah.

- Hi, Nick.
- Evening.

So what is all this "Nick" stuff?

Nick, do you wanna cigarette?
Nick, can I have a ride?

She didn't ask me to give her a ride.
She asked anybody.

- And you volunteered.
- Hey, Nick. Evian?

Uh, no Chuck. You get me a double
Black Jack on the rocks, please.

What you doing, hos?

I haven't had a drink in three months.

That all right with you, cowboy?

- She doesn't know me, okay.
- Here you go, Nick.

I never seen her
before, uh, Gus and I talked to her.

Thanks, Chuck.

- You're sure?
- Yes, I'm sure.

Cheers.

Now what?

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

She knew how to beat it.
That's why she asked to take it.

Now how in the fuck do you know?
What is it with you and this broad anyway?

Oh, come on, Phil.
Do not let this one slide.

What about her parents?
What about what else she published?

Maybe all her books
got a funny way of coming true.

Her parents died in an accident. I don't
give a shit what else she published.

What are you all of a sudden?
A book critic?

How did they die? Huh?
Was there an investigation?

Now you're saying she killed her parents?
Did she kill Manny Vasquez, too?

Not unless she climbed into the ring
and turned into one mean son of a bitch.

Maybe she did, Gus. Maybe she grew herself
an Afro, developed a hell of a left hook,

and put shoe polish all over her face.

- Let's polygraph her again and ask her.
- Fuck you, Phil.

-Fuck you, too Nick.

Don't worry, Phil.
Nick will fuck himself.

- Yeah, right.
- You guys are very funny.

Hey, Chucky,
get me another double, will you?

- Coming right up.
- Hey, Shooter...

Are you back on the Black Jack, Shooter?

- We're discussing a case here, Marty.
- I know that. I have no doubts.

Here you go, Nick.

Oh!

A double, huh, Shooter? Hmm?

I'm off-duty, Nilsen.

You hear me?
I'm off-duty discussing a case.

Now, IA shouldn't have
a problem with that.

Maybe I should put in
for some overtime, huh?

Don't work too hard, Shooter.

Might drive you to drink.

Stop riding me, man.

- I'll kick your fucking teeth in.
- Hey!

What's the problem?

No problem, Doctor.
Here comes the shrink...

- Oh, come on.
- ...huh, just in time

to save her favorite patient.

Just fuck off, Marty.

You kids have a good time tonight, huh?

- He's asking for it.
- That's right. So don't take the bait.

You wanna go?

- Yes.
- Let's go.

Sometimes I think he started banging her

just to get off the hook
with Internal Affairs.

He ain't that way. He's got a heart.

Nick!

- Stop! No!
- That's right. Come on.

No.

You like it this way. Keep it down.

Oh.

What was she like?

- Who?
- Catherine Tramell.

You had her pegged.
She used her book as an alibi.

I met her at Berkeley.

We were in some of the same classes.

Why didn't you tell me?

I'm telling you.

You've never been like that before.

- Why?
- You tell me. You're the shrink.

- You weren't making love to me.
- Who was I making love to?

You weren't making love.

I need a cigarette.

I thought you said you quit.

It's the top drawer in the foyer.

Get it on your way out.

Okay.

Scotty.

You look like dogshit.

- Nah, he looks a little shrunk, is all.
- Not just in the head.

All right. I made a couple of calls to
Berkeley. There was a murder in '80.

A professor. In his bed.
Multiple stab wounds. With an icepick.

Tramell was there then, wasn't she?

University records say she was.

Okay, let's move on this.
Gus, get out to Berkeley.

Harrigan, find out
what else she's published.

Andrews, you get me
that file on her parents' accident.

Copy Beth on everything.
I want psychological input on this.

What about me?

You're already
getting psychological input, hos.

You go soak your head
in a tub of ice water.

Nick...

You see where she leads.

Thank you.

No!

Uh-huh.

Ain't you got nothing better to do
than come in here

- and jack off the damn machine?
- What are you doing here, cowboy?

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.

Was she a suspect?

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

Hazel Dobkins?

You know her?

Couldn't get it
out of my head for years.

Nice little housewife, three 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

she got for a wedding present.

Didn't even deny it. Sweet as honey.

Said she didn't know why she done it.

- Hi.
- Am I disturbing you?

No. Come on in

Let's go upstairs.

I'm using you
for my detective in my book.

You don't mind, do you?

I was just gonna make
myself a drink. Do you want one?

No, thanks.

Oh, that's right. You're off
the Jack Daniels too, aren't you?

Got a, uh, few more questions to ask you.

I have some for you too.

For my book.

You have something against ice cubes?

I like rough edges.

So what do you wanna ask me?

How does it feel to kill someone?

You tell me.

I don't know. But you do.

It was an accident. They...

They got in the line of fire.

Four shootings in five years.
All accidents?

They were drug buys.
I was working undercover.

You wanna tell me about
Professor Goldstein.

Well, there's a name from the past.

You want a name from the present?
What about Hazel Dobkins?

Noah Goldstein 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.

Hilarious.

Hazel is my friend.

Well, your friend
took out her whole family.

Yes. She's helped me understand
homicidal impulse.

Thought you would learn that at school.

Only in theory. But you know
all about homicidal impulse...

don't you, Shooter?

Not in theory, in practice.

What happened? Did you get sucked into it?

Did you like it too much?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Tell me about the coke, Nick.

The day you shot those two tourists...

how much coke did you do?

Come on. You can tell me.

- I didn't.
- Yes, you did.

They never tested you, did they?

Internal Affairs knew.

Your wife knew too, didn't she?

She knew what was going on.

Nicky got too close to the flame.

Nicky liked it.

That's why she killed herself.

Hiya, hon.

You two have met, haven't you?

You're gonna make
a terrific character, Nick.

She's on the phone.
She'll be right with you, detective--

Oh. I'm gonna
have to give you a call back.

- Detective. Detective, you can't go in--
- Let me call you back.

Who's got access to my file?

- What are you talking about, Nick?
- Who has access to my goddamn file?

Nobody. It's a confidential
psychiatric record, it would be illegal.

Don't do it. Don't you fucking lie to me.

- It's Internal Affairs. Was it?
- No.

- No, Nick. Please.
- Who.

It's, uh.. Nilsen.

What do you want, Curran?

You sold her my file, didn't you?

What are you talking about?

Catherine Tramell.

How much did she pay you?

Hey. Come on!

- Let him go!
- Stop it!

How much?

Come on.

Hey, back off. Just back off, Curran.

Nice and easy now. Nice and easy.

You fucked yourself, Shooter. You hear me?

- You are out!
- Take it easy.

- Cool it. Take it easy.
- You are out! You're out.

- Okay, okay.
- Save it. Save it.

Nick!

- What's going down, hos?
- Nothing, all right. I'll be okay.

No, sir. You won't.
They're gonna want your badge.

I'm tired of being played with.

You got a real conclusive way
of demonstrating that.

She knows where I live and breathe.

She's coming after me, Gus.

What is it you got between you?

I don't know.

It's something though.

Something.

Yeah.

George Jefferson is unfair.
He's short with no hair.

Nick?

Nick, are you there?

Go away, Beth. I don't wanna see you.

I still have my key.

Put 'em on the table and leave.

Put 'em on the goddamn table
and leave?

Damnit. Don't shut me out.
You owe me more than that.

I don't owe you anything.

You don't owe me anything.

We went to bed, what, ten, 15 times?

Maybe it wasn't memorable enough
to, to carry an obligation.

- Sometimes I really hate you.
- Oh! Why don't you get yourself

some friendly little therapist
and work out some of that hostility?

And maybe you can get off once in a while.

Are you nuts?

I'm sorry...

I don't usually act like that.

How could you give him my file?

I had to.

He was going to recommend
your discharge from the force.

He didn't buy my evaluation.
He said I wasn't objective.

So I made a deal with him to review
the session notes himself.

I didn't think he'd show them to anybody.

You did it for me?

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

Go away, Beth. Please, just go away.

Yo.

I'm on my way.

One shot. Close range.
Probably a .38 caliber revolver.

Give me your gun, Nick.

You think that--

I don't, hos,
but I got the minority opinion.

Okay. I went after him.

I lost my temper.

You have any evidence that he showed
your psychiatric file to anyone?

No.

We'll speak with you afterwards,
Dr. Garner.

I'd like to sit in. If you don't mind.

- I'd really rather wait until after--
- I don't see anything wrong

with Dr. Garner sitting in
if Detective Curran doesn't object.

Where were you last night?

Home. Watching TV.

All night?

Yes. All night.

Were you drinking?

Yeah, I was drinking.

When did you start drinking again?

Couple of days ago.

I saw Detective Curran at his apartment
about ten o'clock last night.

He was sober and lucid.

I asked him in my capacity
as his departmental therapist

about his altercation with Lt. Nilsen.

He expressed regret
and displayed no hostility.

How long were you at his apartment?

About 15 minutes.

I saw there was no reason
for my concern and left.

There's no smoking in this building,
detective.

What are you gonna do?
Charge me with smoking?

Oh, for Christ--

All right, Nick, I'm gonna ask you
this just once: for the record,

did you kill Marty Nilsen?

No.

Come on. I'm gonna storm
into his office in front of everybody

in the middle of the day
and kill him that night?

I'm not that dumb.

Going after him before
gets you off the hook for killing him.

That's your alibi.

Like writing a book about killing a guy
gets you off the hook for killing him.

Good point.

I don't understand.
What are you talking about? What book?

Private joke, asshole.

I don't think it's funny.

You're going on leave, Curran...

pending the outcome
of a psychiatric evaluation.

Beth! I'll get my stuff in a minute.

Beth!

Thank you.

It's the least I could do.

Considering, I got you into this mess
with those reports.

No. I mean it, thank you.

How do you know Catherine Tramell
saw your file?

She know things about me
that I only told you.

She must really be something...

from a clinical point of view.

What was she like in school?

I hardly knew her.
She gave me the creeps, though.

I don't know why.

Get some rest. Promise?

Beth. I didn't mean what I said
yesterday--

Yes you did.

I'm a big girl. I can handle it.

- Hey, you take care of yourself.
- What did you find out about the parents?

You're on leave, man.

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

Well, you know I'm whacko, Sam.
What did you find out?

The boat blew.

There was a leak in the fuel line.
There have been two previous repairs.

They had a five mil policy on both of 'em.

A real heavy investigation,
but they got zilch.

Big goose-egg. It was an accident.

IA's gonna talk to you
more about Nilsen.

They're handling the investigation,
we're not.

You stay in touch with Dr. Garner,
it'll help on the evaluation.

She killed him, Phil.

- Beth? Now you've got Beth killing people?
- No, Catherine Tramell.

It's part of her game.

First you've got her stealing your file.
Now you've got her killing Nilsen.

Forget about her for Christ sake?
Go somewhere. Sit in the sun.

- Ger her the hell out of your system.
- You don't buy it, do you?

She knew nobody would buy it.

She knew I'd say she did it.
And she knew that nobody would buy it.

She is screwing with your head, Nick.

Stay away from her.

I heard about what happened.

What good's a shooter without his gun?

How exactly did you find out?

I have attorneys. They have friends.
I have friends.

Money buys a lot of attorneys and friends.

Well, I wouldn't know about that.
I don't have any money.

I don't have any attorneys,
and Gus is my only real friend.

I wasn't talking about real friends.

Why doesn't Gus like me?

I like you.

- You do?
- Yes.

You wanna go upstairs and have a drink?

I didn't think you'd ask me.

Then I guess you don't know
your character that well.

Maybe, but we're learning.

Pretty soon I'll know you better
than you know yourself.

- Don't be too sure.
- Why not?

- I'm very unpredictable.
- Unpredictable?

You ought to put some warmth
into the place.

You don't want it to reflect
on your personality.

I'm not trying to fool anybody.

Jack Daniel's all right?
It's gonna have to be.

- Ice?
- Yeah, great.

I was expecting you.

K-mart. A buck sixty-five.

Why don't you let me do this for you?

You like watching me do it, don't you?

Could I have a cigarette too, please?
See, I told you you'd start smoking again.

Would you light it for me?

Thanks.

So how much
did you pay Nilsen for my file?

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

What if I asked you
not to call me Shooter?

Okay. How about if I call you Nicky?

My wife used to call me Nicky.

Yeah, I know. I like it.

Cheers. My friends call me Catherine.

What Manny Vasquez used to call you?

Bitch, mostly,

but he meant it affectionately.

Do you have any coke?

I just love coke with Jack Daniels.

Got a Pepsi in the fridge.

Well, it's not really the same thing,
now is it?

No, it's not.

So where is this going?

Hmm?

What do you want from me?

Say,
"What do you want from me, Catherine?"

What the fuck
do you want from me, Catherine?

I brought you something.

Aren't you gonna say thank you?

What's it about?

It's about a boy who kills his parents.

They have a plane.
He makes it look like an accident.

Why'd he do that?

To see if he could get away with it.

When'd you write this?

You mean, did I write it
before my parents died?

Yeah.

No.

I wrote it years afterwards.

You're not gonna stop
following me around now, are you?

Just because you're on leave.

Absolutely not.

Good. I'd miss you.

You could get in trouble, though.
You're not really a cop anymore.

I'll risk it.

-Why take the risk?
-To see if I can get away with it.

How's your new book?

It's practically
writing itself.

Oh, I'll be leaving about midnight.
In case you are gonna follow me.

I'll be at Johnny Boz's club.

I'll meet you there.

Hi, Gus.

Forgive me for asking, hos,
and I don't mean to belabor the obvious,

but why is it you've got your head
so far up your own ass?

She wanna play. Fine, I can play.

Everybody she plays with dies.

I know what that's like.

- Hi.
- Hi, babe.

Looks good.

Hey. Shh.

Shh.

If you don't leave her alone,
I'll kill you.

Let me ask you something, Rocky.

Man to man.

I think she's the fuck of the century.

What do you think?

How long you been here?

You like watching,

don't you?

She likes me to watch.

Nicky...

Fuck.

The beach
C

Hi.

Good morning.

Guess, uh, Roxy's not taking this
too well, huh?

She's seen me fuck plenty of guys.

Maybe she saw something
she's never seen before.

She's seen everything before.

Honey, I thought
I'd seen everything before.

Did you really think it was so special?

I told her I thought
it was the fuck of the century.

Well, what do you think?

I thought it was a pretty good beginning.

What about Roxy?

Is she more fun?

Do you like her
to join us sometime?

Did she join you and Johnny?

No, Johnny felt intimidated.

Look what happened to him.

Tell me, Nicky,
were you frightened last night?

That's the point, wasn't it?
That's what made it so good.

- You shouldn't play this game.
- Why not? I like it.

You're in over your head.

Maybe.
But this is how I'll catch my killer.

I'm not gonna confess all my secrets,
Nick, just because I have an orgasm.

You won't learn anything
I don't want you to know.

Yes, I will.

And I'll nail you.

You'll just fall in love with me.

I'm in love with you already.

But I'll nail you anyway.

You can put that in your book.

Thought I'd find you here.

Where the fuck you been?
I've been over to your place.

Easy, cowboy, easy. I wasn't there.

I went over last night, too.

Well, I wasn't there either.

You fucked her.

Goddamn dumb son of a bitch.
You fucked her.

Goddamn, you are one dumb
son of a bitch.

Next time I'll use a rubber.

I don't give a flying chili-bean fart
about a rubber.

Gus, Gus, Gus,
you're forgetting something.

- I got it, Harry. How much?
- Thirty-three.

Got it.

I'm worried about him.
He's worried about rubbers.

You gotta protect yourself, Gus.
You really do.

What in the hell for?

You think I'm getting any?

I mean, sure, I can get laid
by goddamn blue-haired women.

I don't like 'em.

Don't knock it
till you've tried it.

Feeling better?

I feel fine.

How could you fuck her?

Gus, come on.

You wanna die, hos?

What is it? Those goddamn tourists?

You still feel so bad about that
you're wigglin' your way into an icepick?

Got too many goddamn tourists
coming here anyway.

Plenty more goddamn tourists
where they goddamn came from.

I'm not afraid of her.

Why the hell not?

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

That's her pussy talking,

it ain't your brain.

Gus, come on. Gus...

Disgusting.

IA done did a track
on Lt. Martin D for Dickhead Nilsen.

They found a safety deposit box

with 50,000 dollars in it,
taken out three months ago,

and not used since.

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

Maybe it wasn't her that paid him.

Maybe the money was for something else.
How the fuck do I know?

I'm just an old city cowboy
trying not to fall outta his saddle.

- You all right, cowboy?
- Yeah.

Yeah?

Come on, I'll drive you home.

In that little pissant car of yours?
Hell, no.

I ain't getting
no back pain disability retirement.

I am gonna get me a full pension
and a real gold-plate Seiko watch.

- Right. Move over. I'm driving you--
- You think I'd let you drive

my Cadillac car?

I ain't gonna let no head-up-his-ass
person drive my Cadillac car.

Grow up!

You wanna play, huh? Come on!

Come on!

Come on.

Roxy...

- All right. Ready?
- Okay.

Lieutenant!
I got the information.

Well, get it down here.

This is your statement? You signed
your name to this crock of shit?

Why not? It was an accident.

You're driving around North Beach,
for no particular reason,

and this car won't get out of the way.

I don't think she meant
to go off the edge, do you?

- Could we have him for a minute here?
- No, you cannot.

Don't fuck with me on this, Nick.

I don't need a reason
to put your ass in a sling.

Full name is Roxanne Hardy.

Last known address,
Cloverdale, California.

No priors, no convictions. The car
is registered to Catherine Tramell.

- You knew her, didn't you?
- Gus and I met her at Tramell's house.

All we did was write her name down.

You wrote her name down, and then,
big surprise, she rolls her car

down the hill in front of you and dies.
Is that what you're telling me?

That's all I know.

Well, you know what then? Fuck you, Nick.

Fuck you!

I want you in Dr. Garner's office
at nine--

I told you to stay away from Tramell.

You didn't tell me
to stay away from the car!

I said I want you at Dr. Garner's office
at nine o'clock.

Who are you guys gonna sell
my file to now, huh?

You are out of control, Curran.
You hear me?

You see--

Hello, Nick. This is Dr. Myron
and Dr. McElwaine.

Nick.

They've been asked to consult with me
on this psychiatric evaluation.

Sit down, Nick.

Nick, we understand
you've been having some difficulty

controlling your temper lately.

Only in regard to one person.

Do you think Lieutenant Nilsen
deserved to die?

I didn't know him well enough.
I won't miss him.

Nick, when you recollect your childhood,
are your recollections pleasing to you?

Number one. I don't remember
how often I used to jerk off,

but it was a lot.

Number two. I wasn't pissed off
at my dad, even when I was old enough

to know what he and mom were doing
in the bedroom. Number three.

I don't look in the toilet
before I flush it. Number four.

I haven't wet my bed for a long time.
Number five.

Why don't the two of you
go fuck yourselves?

I'm outta here.

What is your problem?
I'm trying to help you.

- Why won't you let me help you?
- I don't want your help. All right?

- I don't need your help.
- Yes, you do.

Something's going on.
You're sleeping with her, aren't you?

- What is this interest you've got in her?
- My interest is in you, not her.

She seduces people,
she manipulates people.

- She'll do anything she can--
- I thought you hardly knew her.

I know the type. I'm a psychologist.

That means
you manipulate people too, Beth?

You're a practicing psychologist.
You're better at it than she is.

I feel sorry for you, Nick.

Catherine!

Catherine!

I should have known. I...

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?

Did you like her to watch you?

Do you think I told her to kill you?

No.

Everybody that I care about dies.

It's okay. It's okay.

It's okay.

Make love to me.

Do you think she killed Johnny Boz?

For what? To set me up?

She loved me. She wouldn't frame me.

Maybe she got jealous of Johnny too.

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.

I thought you didn't make confessions.

I never did before.

Another nice girl.

How old was she when it happened?

Sixteen.

We seal juvenile records
until they're deceased.

That's why you couldn't find it
in your computer.

What was the motive?

She said she didn't know herself.
Just sort of did it on impulse.

The razor just happened to be there.

It's what she said.

If you want, help yourself to some coffee.

Thanks.

I don't understand
what the hell's going on here, Gus.

Ain't that hard, hos.

This young farm girl got tired
of all that attention

going to her little brothers,
so she fixed them.

Just like ole Hazel Dobkins
fixed her whole family.

Except young Roxy here
didn't use a wedding present.

She used daddy's razor.

It sure makes you wonder what they talked
about when they set themselves down

in front of the campfire at night.

You ever met a friend of hers
who hasn't killed somebody?

It must have beat your ordinary,
everyday girl talk.

I'm not sure anymore if she did it.

Which one are we talking about now, hos?

We know ole Hazel did it.
We know young Roxy did it.

And the other one...

Well, she got that magna cum laude pussy
on her that done fried up your brain.

Oberman, Mark W., Donald M.

Sorry. No Lisa.

You sure about the year?

Catherine Tramell graduated in '83. Yeah.

She said Lisa Oberman
was here at the same time.

Yeah, we have Tramell.

But no Lisa Oberman.

Are you sure about that?
There can't be a mistake?

Only if you're making it, Detective.

Hi.

Hazel, this is Nick.
I told you all about him.

Nick, this is Hazel Dobkins.

You're the shooter, aren't you?
Well, how are you?

Fine. Thank you.
Can I speak to you for a minute, please?

Honey, would you wait for me in the car?
I'll be right there.

Goodbye, Shooter.

You like to hang out
with murderers or what?

- You know that Roxy was--
- Yes, of course I knew.

Look, I write about unusual people,
and sometimes when I do my research,

I get involved with them.

It happened with you.

Killing isn't like smoking.

You can quit.

I've got to go.

I promised I'd get her home
by six o'clock.

She just loves America's Most Wanted.

There was no Lisa Oberman
when you were at Berkeley.

What are you doing? Checking up on me?

For what?

I said Hoberman.

Hoberman. Lisa Hoberman. With an H.

You do?

All right. Thank you very much.

You know I can get
my butt kicked for this.

You're not even supposed to be in here.

Come on, Sam.
It's only gonna take a minute.

Yeah.

Bring it up.

It's Dr. Garner, isn't it?

Bring up '83.

You shouldn't leave your door open.

I didn't There's something wrong
with my lock.

What do you want, Nick?

Tell me about Catherine.

She told you, didn't she?

What did she tell me, 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.

Isn't that what she told you?

She said it was you.

You dressed like her,
you dyed your hair blond.

I did dye my hair.
It had nothing to do with her.

- I was a redhead for a while too.
- Did you know Noah Goldstein?

I had him for two classes.

You saw all the reports, Beth.
Phil copied you. You never said anything.

Well, what am I supposed to say?

Hey, guys, I'm not gay,
but I did fuck your suspect.

I was embarrassed. It was the only time
I've been with a woman.

She's really sick, you know.

Do you know what she's doing?

She knows I went to Berkeley.
She knows I knew Noah.

She makes up this story about me.

She's handing you somebody
who's obsessed with her.

She didn't hand you to me.
She doesn't even know who you are.

She told me about a, uh, Lisa Hoberman.

She knows you'd find out
who Lisa Hoberman is. You're a good cop.

Did she tell you casually?

Make it seem irrelevant?

I mean, did she tell you in bed, Nick?

That's what I'd do.

Why did you change your name?

I got married. He called me Beth.

He was on staff at the clinic
down in Salinas.

Didn't last long.

Nick! God, do you really think
that I could kill someone?

I mean, I never even met Johnny Boz.

And what about Nilsen?

What possible motive
would I have to kill Nilsen?

You should get that lock fixed.

God!

She is evil. She is brilliant.

Did I scare you?

I wanted to surprise you.

What's wrong?

I found Lisa Hoberman.

Oh, you did? What is she doing?

Are you not gonna tell me
what she's doing?

- I thought we were done playing games.
- I did too.

She said you got it backwards.

She said you even styled your hair
like she did.

And you believed her?

I had to go down to the campus police
and file a report about her.

I suppose you still think
I kill people too, right?

No.

Liar.

- So who'd you say you're with?
- Homicide. San Francisco.

Here we go.

Kind of.

There was a report about a Lisa Hoberman,
January 1980, but it's outta here.

Who's got it?

One of your guys, Nilsen. You know him?

Yeah. Thanks a lot.

Yeah. Tell him to bring it back, will you?
He's had it a whole year.

So Nilsen had a report on Beth. So what?
You don't know what the hell was in it?

Catherine told me what was in it.

- If she's telling you the truth.
- Oh, Gus, don't you get it?

If Beth killed Johnny Boz
to frame Catherine,

she wouldn't want anybody
to know what happened in Berkeley.

But Nilsen found out about it.
And that gives her the motive to kill him.

Well, how did she know Nilsen found out,
if it happened?

He was IA. He-he probably asked her.

She'd have to be nuttier
than a 20 pound Christmas fruitcake.

She's not the one who hangs out
with multiple murderers,

- your girlfriend is.
- She's a writer, all right.

- That's her job.
- I don't buy it.

There's gotta be somebody at Berkeley
who knows what the hell happened.

I know what happened, all right.
Catherine told me.

-And everything she says has checked out.
-You got goddamn tweety-birds

- Fuck you, man.
- fluttering around in your head.

- That's what you got.
- Fuck it!

You think you can fuck like minks,
raise rugrats and live happily ever after?

Oh man!

How'd you get in here?

What's, uh, what's this?

I decided to give you a second chance.

I missed you.

I wasn't gone long enough
for you to miss me.

Did you miss me?

No.

Now?

No.

Why don't you come over here
and tell me no?

I've seen 'em before.

Yeah? Well, you might not see 'em again.

My book's nearly finished.

And my detective's almost dead.

- So I got time for a last cigarette?
- Afterwards.

I've got to do some research
tomorrow morning.

I'm good at research. I'll help you.

No thanks.

What are you researching?

Oh. A new ending to your book.

Oh really? What's the twist?

- The detective falls for the wrong girl...
- Uh-huh.

...but he doesn't die.

So what happens to them?

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

It won't sell.

Why not?

Somebody has to die.

Why?

Somebody always does.

Good morning.
I'm looking for a Dr. Garner.

Oh, she doesn't work here anymore.

I think she's up in San Francisco
with the police.

Actually, I'm looking for her husband.
He works here too, doesn't he?

- Dr. Joseph Garner?
- Yeah.

- Was she married?
- You know him?

He died about five or six years ago.

- How did he die?
- He was shot.

Thank you.

He was walking home from work.

They only lived a couple of blocks
away from the clinic.

- Somebody just drove by and shot him.
- What was the murder weapon?

Revolver, .38. Unrecovered.
Watch yourself.

Were there any suspects?

No suspects, no motive. Unsolved.

Was his wife ever a suspect?

You know, one of your guys was down here
from 'Frisco, about a year ago.

He was asking the same exact thing.

Do you mind telling me
what the hell is going on?

- Routine.
- Routine?

Yeah. That's exactly what he said.

Now I got two of you guys come down here
and telling me it's "routine".

Do you remember
what the other guy's name was?

No. Can't really say that I do.

Nilsen?

Nilsen. Yeah, that was it.

- So was she ever a suspect?
- Nope.

There was some talk,
but it never panned out.

What kind of talk?

Girlfriend.

What? He had a girlfriend?

No.

She did.

Like I said,

it never panned out.

- Thank you.
- Yeah. Hope I helped you out.

Yes, you did. You sure did.

Catherine!

Hi. I missed you.

I finished my research.

- I finished my book.
- Yeah?

So how does it end?

I told you. She kills him.

Goodbye, Nick.

Goodbye?

Yeah. I finished my book.

Didn't you hear me? Your character's dead.

Goodbye.

What do you want? Flowers?
I'll send you an autographed copy.

What is this? Some kind of joke?

You playing a game here?

Games are over.

You were right.
It was the fuck of the century, Shooter.

Catherine?

I'll be right there.

Catherine Tramell's roommate,
freshman year. I just got a call from her.

She's over in Oakland. Come on.

I've been phoning people
from her dorm all day.

She must have heard
I was trying to reach her.

She says she knows all about Catherine
and Lisa Hoberman.

You feeling okay?

Yeah.

Here's something else.

Johnny Boz's psychiatrist
has an office on Van Ness.

Guess who he shares office space with?
Doctor Elizabeth Garner.

What in hell's the matter with you?

Hmm?

I'll be in Suite 405.

- Where the hell are you going?
- Going with you.

You're on leave, hos.
It ain't gonna take long.

Gus!

Gus!

Gus.

Freeze!

What are you doing here?

Put your hands up.
Put your fucking hands up.

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

Don't move. Don't you move.

I know about your husband.
You still like girls, Beth?

What?

Take your hands out of your pockets.

- Take 'em out!
- What's wrong with you?

Take 'em out.

I loved you.

Oh, God!

What makes you think she had a gun?

What the hell was she doing here?
What was Gus doing here?

Nick?

Lieutenant.

One of ours.

Jesus.

We'll have to check Beth's apartment.

Thirty-eight caliber revolver.

In the bookcase behind some books.

Have ballistics check it for Nilsen.

Lieutenant,
you'd better come in here.

I guess that's it.

We checked. It's her size.

She must've heard you on the stairway
and dumped the stuff.

There's no suite 405
in that building.

Catherine Tramell's roommate
in her freshman year is dead.

She died of leukemia two years ago.

- Here's a fax of her death certificate.
- Okay, but what about Salinas?

Yeah?

Hold on. Jack?

Jack! Did you check Nilsen's office
for any files on Beth Garner?

- No police report from Berkeley.
- Yeah?

- Nothing at all about Salinas.
- Okay.

I'm back. Yeah.

Great.

Ballistics says the .38 we found
in her apartment was used on Nilsen.

No registration.
They're checking with Salinas.

The icepick was the same brand
and model as the Boz weapon.

We checked the tape machines
at Dr. Garner's apartment and her office,

both here and the one on Van Ness.
There's no message from Gus on any of 'em.

The tape in her apartment was unused.

And Johnny Boz's psychiatrist says
he thinks he remembers Dr. Garner and Boz

meeting at a Christmas party
at his house a year ago.

You just can't tell about people, can you.

Even the ones
you think you know inside and out.

Congratulations, Curran.

Hi.

I heard about what happened...

on TV.

I can't allow myself to care about you.

I can't allow myself...

to care...

I don't wanna do this.
Please, I don't wanna do this. I...

I lose everybody.

I don't wanna lose you.

I don't wanna lose you.

What do we do now, Nick?

Fuck like minks...

raise rugrats and live happily ever after.

I hate rugrats.

Fuck like minks, forget the rugrats,
and live happily ever after.