All language subtitles for Basic.Instinct.1992.720p.BrRip.x264.YIFY

- Here we go, Nick.
- All right

- Good morning, Detective.
- I want a shot of the two detectives.

Keep it back, folks.

- Howdy.
- Morning.

Up there.

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

- Who was this fucking guy?
- Rock and roll, Gus. Johnny Boz.

- Never heard of him.
- Before your time, cowboy.

- Hey, Ronny, where they hiding?
- Upstairs, to the right.

Mid '60s, had five or six hits.
Got a club down on Fillmore now.

Not now, he don't.

Do we have a time
of death? Almost.

- Do you guys know Captain Tallcott?
- Sure.

- What's the Chief's office doing here?
- Observing.

- What's it say, Doc? - Ninety-two
degrees. About six hours.

Puts time of death
at around 2:00 a. m.

Can somebody close
the drapes over there?

Maid came in about an hour
ago and 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 was last seen leaving the club
with his girlfriend about midnight.

- What was it?
- Ice pick. Left it in the living room.

There's come stains
all over the sheets.

- Very impressive.
- He got off before he got off.

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 he was a
rock and roll star.

He was a retired
rock and roll star.

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

Then, what's that over there?

Looks like 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 girl
friend's name?

"Catherine Tramell,
162 Divisadero."

- Always a pleasure, Captain.
- He's up bright and early.

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

Johnny and the mayor
must have been very tight.

Nick, keep your 3:00.

You want me to
work the case...

- I said, keep it!
- All right.

I'll keep it.

Good morning. I'm Detective
Curran. This is Detective Moran.

San Francisco Police Department. I'd
like to speak to Catherine Tramell.

Come in.

Sit, please. Just a moment.

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

- I didn't know you knew a Picasso.
- Sure I do. It says right here.

Hers is bigger.

Sorry to bother you. We just
got a couple of questions.

- 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 Stenson. Seadrift 1402.

Thanks.

You're wasting your time.

Catherine didn't kill him.

Miss 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, Miss 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 Stenson.

- How are you, Nick?
- I'm fine.

Come on, Beth. You know I'm fine. How
long do we have to keep doing this?

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

- Have a seat.
- It's bullshit. 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.

I started developing calluses.

Sorry.

How's the booze?

Haven't had a drink
in three months.

- What about the coke?
- No.

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

I even stopped smoking.

How is not smoking?

It sucks.

Now, will you tell I.A.
I'm just your average...

healthy, totally
fucked up cop...

and let me out
of here, please?

Yes.

Thank you.

I still miss you, Nick.

- How are you doing?
- Fine.

Tallcott's in there. They're
waiting. How did 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 forceable
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.

Bottle was cocaine. High quality,
high content. He inhaled it.

There were minute quantities
on his lips and penis.

Mr. Boz leaves $5 million.

No direct survivors.
No criminal record.

He 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.

Magna cum laude
at Berkeley, 1983.

Double major: Literature
and psychology.

Daughter, sole survivor,
Marvin and Elaine Tramell...

killed in a boating
accident, 1979.

Catherine Tramell, sole heir.
Estimated assets: $ 110 million."

You're shitting me.

"Formerly engaged to
Manuel Vasquez, deceased."

Whoa, whoa! Manny Vasquez?

Former middleweight contender. Killed
in the ring, Atlantic City, 1984.

I love it. She's got
100 million bucks.

She fucks fighters and
rock and roll stars...

and she's got a degree in
screwing with people's heads.

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

She published a novel under a pen
name. Want to 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 ice pick, in bed...

his hands tied with
a white silk scarf.

Dr. Garner.

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

Dr. Lamont teaches the pathology of
psychopathic behavior at Stanford...

and also on the Justice Department
Psychological Profile Team.

Dr. Lamont.

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 the writer must have 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.

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 going to 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
I know I'd be the suspect.

So, what if it's not the writer? What
if it's 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-seated
obsessional hatred...

and an utter lack of
respect for human life.

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

That's what you're
saying, right, Doc?

You're dealing with
someone very dangerous...

and very ill.

You know there's no case here.
You've got no physical evidence.

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.

- What do you want to do now? Nothing?
- We call her in for questioning.

She's got enough money to
burn the department down...

She was the last person
seen with the guy.

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 taxpayers' 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:

Takes one to know one.

Miss Tramell, we'd like you to come
downtown to answer a few questions.

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.

I 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 up believable stuff. 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 Carreli, Miss Tramell,
assistant district attorney.

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

- This is Captain Tallcott.
- My pleasure.

- And Lieutenant Walker.
- Hi.

- Can we get you a cup of coffee?
- No, thank you.

Are your attorneys
going to join us?

Miss Tramell has waived
her rights to an attorney.

Did I miss something?

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

Why have you waived your right
to an attorney, Miss 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's no smoking
in this building.

What are you gonna 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 engage in any
sadomasochistic activity?

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

- 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 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, Miss Tramell?

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

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

Writing the book
gives you an alibi.

Yes, it does.

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

- Do you use drugs, Miss Tramell?
- Sometimes.

- Did you ever use 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.

What about boxing? That's
a game. Is that fun too?

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

Boxing was fun
'til 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 had 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'd you know he was married?

Maybe I was just guessing.

What difference does it make?

Would you like a
cigarette, Nick?

- Do you two know each other?
- 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 and 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.

Do 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't fool the machine.

Trust me. It can be done.

And what makes
you such an expert?

Because I know people
that have done it.

Thank you.

Thanks for coming in, Miss
Tramell. Sorry to inconvenience you.

Could someone give
me a ride home?

Sure.

Thank you.

Want to get a drink?

- Rough day?
- Not really.

Beating that machine
can't be easy.

If I was guilty and wanted to beat
that machine, it wouldn't be hard.

It 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.

Would you like
another glass of wine?

- Hi, Nick.
- Evening.

What's all this "Nick" stuff?

"Nick, do you want a 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?

No, Chuckie. Get me a double
blackjack on the rocks, please.

What you doing, Hoss?

I haven't had a
drink in three months.

All right with you, cowboy?

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

I never seen her before
Gus and I talked with 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 took it.

How in the fuck do you know? What
is it with you and this broad?

Come on, Phil. Don't
let this one slide.

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

Maybe all her books come true.

Her parents died in an accident. I
don't care what else she published.

What are you, a book critic?

How'd they die? Was
there an investigation?

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. 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.
- Fuck you.

Fuck you too.

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

You guys are very funny. Hey,
Chuckie, get me another double.

Hey, shooter!

Are you back on the
blackjack, shooter?

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

Here you go, Nick.

A double, huh, shooter?

I'm off duty, Nilsen.

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

Now, I.A. Shouldn't
have a problem with that.

Maybe I should put
in for some overtime?

Don't work too hard, shooter.
It might drive you to drink.

Stop riding me, man! I'll
kick your fucking teeth in!

- What's the problem?
- No problem, Doctor.

Here comes the shrink, 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.

Do you want to go?

- Yes.
- Let's go.

Sometimes I think he started banging
her just to get Internal Affairs off him.

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

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!

- Have you started?
- Waitin' on you.

- You look like dog shit.
- No, he looks a little shrunk is all.

And 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 ice pick.

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, get me that file
on the parents' accident.

Copy Beth on everything.
I want psychological input.

- What about me?
- You're already getting input.

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

You see where she leads.

You have a good weekend.

You too.

Drive carefully.

- I will.
- Bye-bye.

I'll call you.

Ain't you got nothing better to do
than to 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.

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?

Do you know her?

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

Nice little housewife.
Three little kids.

Nice husband wasn't porking
around. No financial problems.

One day, out of the clear blue
sky, she does them, all of them.

Used a knife she got
for a wedding present.

Didn't even deny
it. Sweet as honey.

Said she didn't know
why she'd 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, right. You're off the
Jack Daniels too, aren't you?

I've got a few more
questions to ask you.

I have some for you
too. For my book.

Do you have something
against ice cubes?

I like rough edges.

So, what did you
want to ask me?

How does it feel
to kill someone?

You tell me.

I don't know, but you do.

It was an accident.

They got in the line of fire.

Four shootings in five
years, all accidents?

They were drug buys. I
was working undercover.

You want to 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 my fresh man year.

That's probably where I got the
idea for the ice pick for my book.

Funny how the
subconscious works.

Hilarious.

- Hazel's my friend.
- Your friend took out her whole family.

Yes, she helped me
understand homicidal impulse.

I thought you would have
learned 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.

I think you got too
close to the flame.

I think you liked it.

That's why she killed herself.

Hi, 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.

- I'm gonna have to call you back.
- Detective, you can't go in...

- Who's got access to my file?
- What are you talking about?

Who has access to
my goddamn file?

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

Don't you fucking lie to me!

It was Internal
Affairs, wasn't it?

No, please.

- Who?
- It's Nilson.

What do you want, Curran?

You sold her my
file, didn't you?

Who are you talking about?

Catherine Tramell. How
much did she pay you?

Hey, Curran, come
on! Damn it, stop it!

How much?

Hey, back off!
Back off, Curran!

Nice and easy
now. Nice and easy.

You fucked yourself, shooter.
You hear me? You are out!

- Curran, take it easy.
- You are out!

Save it, save it.

- What's going down, Hoss?
- Nothing. I'll be okay.

- 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.
- Something, though.

Something.

Nick, are you there?

Go away, Beth. I
don't want to see you.

I still have my key.

Put them on the
table and leave.

Put them on the
goddamn table and leave!

Damn it! Don't shove me out!
You owe me more than that!

I don't owe you anything!

And you don't owe me anything.

We went to bed,
what, 10, 15 times?

It wasn't memorable enough
to carry an obligation.

Sometimes I really hate you.

Why don't you get yourself some
friendly little therapist...

to 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. Please, just go away.

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, Hoss. But I
got the minority opinion.

Okay, I went after
him! I lost my temper.

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

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

- I'd like to sit in.
- I'd really rather wait...

It's all right if Dr. Garner sits 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?
- A couple of days ago.

I saw Detective Curran at his
apartment about 10:00 last night.

He was sober and lucid.

I asked him, in my capacity as
his departmental therapist...

about his altercation
with Lieutenant 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's... All right, Nick,
I'm gonna ask you this just once.

For the record, did
you kill Marty Nilsen?

No.

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.

What are you talking about?

- A private joke, asshole.
- I don't think it's funny.

You're going on leave...

pending the outcome of
a psychiatric evaluation.

I'll get my stuff in a minute.

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 knows 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.

I don't know why.

Get some rest. Promise?

- I didn't mean what I said about...
- Yes, you did.

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

- You take care of yourself.
- What'd you find out about the parents?

No lead, man.

You're on psycho leave. I'm
talking to a possible wacko!

You know I'm wacko.
What'd you find out?

The boat blew. There was
a leak in the fuel line.

There were two previous repairs and
a five mil policy on both of them.

A real heavy investigation
but they got zilch.

Big goose egg. It
was an "accident."

I.A.'s gonna talk to you about Nilsen.
They're handling the investigation.

Stay in touch with Dr. Garner.
It'll help on the evaluation.

She killed him.

Beth? Now you've got
Beth killing people?

Catherine Tramell.
It's part of her game.

First you got her stealing your
file, now she's killing Nilsen?

Forget about her! Go
somewhere, sit in the sun.

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

She knew nobody'd buy it.

She knew I'd say she did
it and nobody'd buy it!

She is screwing with your
head! Stay away from her!

I heard 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.

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 want to go upstairs
and have a drink?

I didn't think you'd ask me.

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

Maybe, but I'm learning.

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

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

- I'm very unpredictable.
- Unpredictable?

You should put some
warmth into the place.

You don't want it to
reflect your personality.

I'm not trying
to fool anybody.

Jack Daniels all right?
It's going to have to be.

- Ice?
- 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?

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 ask 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 friend
call me Catherine.

What did Manny
Vasquez 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.

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

No, it's not.

So where's this going?

What do you want from me?

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

What the fuck do you
want from me, Catherine?

Brought you something.

Aren't you going
to say thank-you?

- What's it about?
- It's about a boy who kills his parents.

They have a play, and he
makes it look like an accident.

Why did he do that?

To see if he could
get away with it.

When did you write this?

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

No. I wrote it
years afterwards.

You wont stop following me around
now just because you're on leave?

Absolutely not.

Good, I'd miss you.

You could get in trouble.
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?
- Practically writing itself.

I'll be leaving about midnight,
in case you are going to follow me.

- I'll be at Johnny Boz's club.
- I'll meet you there.

Hi, Gus.

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

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

She wants to play.
Fine, I can play.

Everybody she plays with dies.

I know what that's like.

- Hi.
- Hi, baby.

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.

Oh, God.

The
beach C

Good morning.

I guess Roxy's not
taking this too well.

She's seen me fuck
plenty of guys.

Well, 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.

What do you think?

I thought it was a
pretty good beginning.

What about Roxy?

Is she more fun?

Would you like her
to join us sometime?

- Did she join you and Johnny?
- No, he felt intimidated.

Look what happened to him.

Tell me, 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 going to confess all my
secrets just because I have an orgasm.

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

Yes, I will. Then
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.

No

Not that bar again

Oh, I want to
know you're the one

And I don't mean
the one I regret

The heart's still going

- 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.

God damned, dumb
son of a bitch!

You fucked her!

God damn! 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 that!

- How about it, Harry.
How much? - Thirty-two.

I'm worried about him,
he's worried about rubbers.

You really gotta
protect yourself.

What in the hell for?

You think I'm getting any? Sure, I
can get laid by blue haired women!

- I don't like them!
- Don't knock it 'til you tried it!

Feeling better?

I feel fine.

How could you fuck her?

Come on.

You want to die, Hoss?

What is it? Those tourists?

You still so bad about that, you're
wiggling your way into an ice pick?

Got too many, god damn
tourists coming here anyway!

- Hold it down.
- Plenty more where they 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!

Come on.

I.A. Did a track on Lieutenant
Martin D-for-dickhead Nilsen.

They found a safety deposit
box with $50,000 in it...

taken out three months
ago and not used since.

That doesn't make any 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 out of his saddle.

- All right, cowboy?
- Yeah.

Come on. I'm going
to drive you home.

In that little
piss-ant car of yours?

Hell, no. I ain't getting no
back pain disability retirement.

I'm gonna get a full pension and
a real gold-plate Seiko watch.

I'm driving you...

You're not driving
my Cadillac car!

I won't let no head-up-his-ass
person drive my Cadillac car!

So long!

You wanna play? Come on!

Lieutenant! I got
the information.

Get it down here!

You signed your name
to this crock of shit?

Why not? It was an accident.

"Your driving around North Beach and
this car won't get out of the way."

I don't think she meant
to go off the edge.

- Could we have him for a minute?
- No, you can't!

Don't fuck with me on this. 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.

Car is registered
to Catherine Trammel.

- You knew her!
- I met her at Trammel's house.

All I did was
write her name down.

You wrote her name down
and then big surprise...

she rolls her car
down a hill and dies.

- Is that what you're telling me?
- That's all I know.

You know what then? Fuck you!

- I want you at Dr. Garner's office...
- I told you to stay away from Trammel!

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

- I want you at Dr. Garner's office!
- Who are you selling my file to now?

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

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

and Dr. McElwaine.

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

Sit down.

We understand you're having 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.

When you recollect
your childhood...

are your recollections
pleasing to you?

Number one: I don't remember how
often I jerked 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 did in the bedroom.

Number three: I don't look
in the toilet before I flush.

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 out of here.

What's your problem?
I'm trying to help.

- Why won't you let me?
- I don't want your help!

- I don't need it.
- Yes, you do!

Something's going on.

You're sleeping
with her, aren't you?

- Why are you interested in her?
- My interest is in you, not her.

She seduces and
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!

You're a practicing
psychologist.

You're better at
it than she is!

I feel sorry for you!

I should have known.

I came in to the house.

When we were down
on the beach...

she looked at me so strangely.

She left right after you.

I...

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?
- You think I told her to kill you?

No.

Everybody that I care about...

dies.

Make love to me.

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'd never get
jealous before.

She got excited.

I don't have luck with women.

There was this girl...

I met when 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.
Just sort of did it on impulse.

The razor just happened to be
there. That's what she said.

- Help yourself to some coffee.
- Thanks.

I don't understand what
the hell is going on here.

It ain't hard, Hoss.
This young farm girl...

got tired of all that attention
going to her little brothers...

so she fixed them.

Just like old Hazel Dobkins
fixed her whole family.

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

She used daddy's razor.

Sure makes you wonder
what they talk about...

when they sit in front
of the campfire at night.

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

Must of beat your ordinary,
every day girl talk.

I'm not sure,
anymore, she did it.

Which one we
talking about now?

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

And the other one...

She's got that magna cum laude
pussy that fried up your brain.

"Oberman, Mark W., Donald M."

Sorry, no "Lisa."

You sure about the year?

Catherine Tramell
graduated in '83.

She said Lisa Oberman
was here at the same time.

Yeah, we have Tramell.

But no Lisa Oberman.

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

Only if you're
making it, Detective.

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

Nick, this is Hazel Dobkins.

You're the
shooter, aren't you?

How are you?

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

Would you wait for me in
the car? I'll be right there.

Good-bye, shooter.

You like to hang out
with murderers, or what?

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

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 gotta go.

I promised I'd get
her home by 6:00.

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 here.
- Come on, Sam.

- This is only gonna take a minute.
- Yeah.

Bring it up.

That'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?

Tell me about Catherine.

She told you, didn't she?

What did she tell me?

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, wore
the same kind of clothes as 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 blonde...

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.

Phil copied you. You
never said anything!

What am I supposed to say?

"I'm not gay, but I
did fuck your suspect"?

I was embarrassed. It was the
only time I'd 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 know who you are.

You told me about
a Lisa Hoberman.

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

She tell you casually?

Make it seem irrelevant?

Did she tell you in bed?

That's what I'd do.

Why'd you change your name?

I got married. He
called me "Beth."

He was on staff at
the clinic in Salinas.

Didn't last long.

Do you really think that
I could kill someone?

I never even met Johnny Boz!

And what about Nilsen? What
motive would I have to kill him?

- You should get that lock fixed.
- God...

She's evil! She's brilliant!

Did I scare you?

I wanted to surprise you.

- What's wrong?
- I found Lisa Hoberman.

Oh, you did? What's she doing?

You're not going to
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 styled
your hair like she did.

And you believed her.

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

- I suppose you still think I kill people too?
- No.

Liar.

- Who'd you say you're with?
- Homicide, San Francisco.

Here we go.

Kind of.

There was a report about
Lisa Hoberman, January, 1980.

- But it's out of here.
- Who's got it?

One of your guys. Nilsen.

- You know him?
- Yeah.

Thanks a lot.

Tell him to bring it back.
He's had it a whole year.

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

- Catherine told me what was in it.
- If she's telling you the truth.

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. That
gives her the motive to kill him.

How did she know Nilsen
found out, if it happened?

He probably asked her!

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

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

- You're girlfriend is!
- She's a writer! That's her job!

I don't buy it. There must be somebody
at Berkeley who knows what happened!

I know what happened!
Catherine told me!

- Everything she says has checked out!
- You got tweety birds...

fluttering around
in your head!

You think you can fuck like
minks, raise rug rats...

and live happily ever after?

Oh, man!

How'd you get in here?

What's this?

I decided to give
you a second chance.

- I missed you.
- I wasn't gone long enough.

Did you miss me?

No.

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

- I've seen them before.
- Yeah?

Well, you might
not see them again.

My book's nearly finished.

My detective's almost dead.

So I've 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.

But he doesn't die.

So what happens to him?

They fuck like minks,
raise rug rats...

and live happily ever after.

It won't sell.

Why not?

Somebody has to die.

Why?

Somebody always does.

Morning. I'm looking
for a Dr. Garner.

She doesn't work here anymore. She's
in San Francisco with the police.

Actually, I'm looking
for her husband.

- He works here too, doesn't he?
- Dr. Joseph Garner?

- 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.

He only lived a couple
of blocks 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?

One of your guys was down
here from Frisco a year ago.

He was asking the
same, exact thing.

You mind telling
me what's going on?

Routine.

That's exactly what he said.

Now I got two of you guys
telling me it's "routine."

You remember what the
other guy's name was?

No. I can't really
say that I do.

Nilsen?

Yeah. That was it.

- So was she ever a suspect?
- No.

There was some talk.

But it never panned out.

- What kind of talk?
- Girlfriend.

He had a girlfriend?

No.

She did.

But like I said,
it never panned out.

- Thank you.
- Hope that helped you out.

Yes, you did. You sure did.

I missed you.

I finished my research.

- I finished my book.
- So how does it end?

I told you.

She kills him.

Good-bye, Nick.

Good-bye?

Yeah. I finished my book.

Didn't you hear me?

Your character's dead.

Good-bye.

What do you want, flowers?

I'll send you an
autographed copy.

What is this,
some kind of joke?

You playing a game here?

The games are over.

You were right.

It was the fuck of
the century, shooter.

I'll be right there.

Catherine Tramell's
roommate, freshman year?

I just got a call from her.
She's in Oakland. Come on!

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

She must've heard I
was trying to reach her.

Says she knows all about
Catherine and Lisa Hoberman.

You feeling okay?

Here's something else.

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

Guess who he
shares space with?

Dr. Elizabeth Garner.

What in the hell's
the matter with you?

I'll be in suite 405.

- Where the hell you going?
- I'm going with you.

You're on leave, Hoss.

It ain't gonna take long.

Freeze!

What are you doing here?

Put your fucking hands up!

I got a message
to meet Gus here.

- Where is he?
- Don't you move!

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

- What?
- Take you hands out of your pocket!

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

Take them out!

I loved you.

Oh, God!

What made you
think she had a gun?

What was she doing here?
What was Gus doing here?

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
better come in here.

I guess that's it.

Definitely not. We feel all the
evidence points to Dr. Elizabeth Garner.

We checked. It's her size.

She probably heard you on the
stairway and dumped this stuff.

There's no suite 405.

Catherine Tramell's
freshman roommate is dead.

She died of leukemia
two years ago.

- Here's a fax of her death certificate.
- What about Salinas?

Yeah, hold on. Jack!

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

No police report from Berkeley.
Nothing at all about Salinas.

I'm back.

Great.

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

No registration. They're
checking with Salinas.

The ice pick was the same brand
and model as the Boz weapon.

Checked the tape machines at Dr.
Garner's apartment and office...

both here and the
one on Van Ness.

There's no message
from Gus on any of them.

The tape in her
apartment was unused.

Johnny Boz's psychiatrist
says he thinks he remembers...

Dr. Garner and Boz meeting at
a Christmas party at his house.

Ayear ago.

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

Even the ones you think
you know inside and out.

Congratulations, Curran.

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 want to do this.

Please. I don't
want to do this.

I lose everybody.

I don't want to lose you.

What do we do now?

Fuck like minks...

raise rug rats and
live happily ever after.

I hate rug rats.

Fuck like minks,
forget the rug rats...

and live happily ever after.