You never did eat your lunch, did you?
I better get back to the office.
These extended lunch hours give my boss excess acid.
Why don't you call your boss and tell him
you're taking the rest of the afternoon off?
Friday anyway, and hot.
What do I do with my free afternoon? Walk you to the airport?
Well, we could laze around here a while longer.
Checking-out time is 3:00 p.m.
Hotels of this sort aren't interested in you when you come in,
but when your time is up...
Oh, Sam, I hate having to be with you in a place like this.
I've heard of married couples who deliberately spend
an occasional night in a cheap hotel.
When you're married you can do a lot of things deliberately.
You sure talk like a girl who's been married.
Oh, Sam, this is the last time.
- Yeah? For what? - For this.
For meeting you in secret so we can be secretive.
You come down here on business trips, and we steal lunch hours.
I wish you wouldn't even come.
All right. What do we do instead? Write each other lurid love letters?
Oh, I have to go, Sam.
- I can come down next week. - No.
Not even just to see you? Have lunch, in public?
Oh, we can see each other. We can even have dinner.
But respectably.
In my house, with my mother's picture on the mantel
and my sister helping me broil a big steak for three.
And after the steak,
do we send sister to the movies, turn Mama's picture to the wall?
Sam!
All right.
Marion, whenever it's possible, I want to see you.
And under any circumstances, even respectability.
You make respectability sound disrespectful.
Oh, no, I'm all for it.
It requires patience, temperance, a lot of sweating out.
Otherwise, though, it's just hard work.
But if I can see you and touch you, even as simply as this, I won't mind.
I'm tired of sweating for people who aren't there.
I sweat to pay off my father's debts, and he's in his grave.
I sweat to pay my ex-wife alimony,
and she's living on the other side of the world somewhere.
I pay, too.
They also pay who meet in hotel rooms.
A couple of years and my debts will be paid off.
If she ever remarries, the alimony stops.
- I haven't even been married once yet. - Yeah. But when you do, you'll swing.
Oh, Sam, let's get married.
Yeah. And live with me in a storeroom behind a hardware store in Fairvale?
We'll have lots of laughs. I'll tell you what.
When I send my ex-wife her alimony, you can lick the stamps.
I'll lick the stamps.
Marion, you want to cut this off,
go out and find yourself somebody available?
I'm thinking of it.
How could you even think a thing like that?
- Don't miss your plane. - Hey, we can leave together, can't we?
I'm late and you have to put your shoes on.
Is Mr. Lowery back from lunch?
He's lunching with the man who's buying the Harris Street property.
You know, the oil lease man. That's why he's late. You got a headache?
It'll pass.
Headaches are like resolutions,
you forget them as soon as they stop hurting.
Have you got some aspirin? I've got something, not aspirin.
My mother's doctor gave them to me the day of my wedding.
Teddy was furious when he found out I'd taken tranquilisers.
Any calls?
Teddy called me. My mother called to see if Teddy called.
Oh, your sister called to say she's going to Tucson to do some buying
and she'll be gone the whole weekend and...
Wow.
It's as hot as fresh milk.
Hey, you girls ought to get your boss to air condition you up.
He can afford it today.
Marion, will you get the copies of that deed ready for Mr. Cassidy?
- Yes, sir. - Tomorrow's the day, my sweet little girl.
Oh, not you. My daughter.
A baby.
And tomorrow she stands her sweet self up there and gets married away from me.
I want you to take a look at my baby.
Eighteen years old
and she never had an unhappy day in any one of those years.
Come on, Tom. My office is air conditioned.
Do you know what I do about unhappiness?
I buy it off.
Are... Are you unhappy?
Not inordinately.
I'm buying this house for my baby's wedding present.
$40,000 cash.
Now that's not buying happiness. That's just buying off unhappiness.
I never carry more than I can afford to lose.
- Count them! - I declare!
I don't. That's how I get to keep it.
Tom, a cash transaction of this size is most irregular.
So what? It's my private money.
Now it's yours.
Suppose we put it in the safe,
and then Monday morning when you're feeling good...
Oh, speaking of feeling good,
where's that bottle you said was in your desk?
Uh-oh!
You know, sometimes I can keep my mouth shut.
Lowery, I am dying of thirst-aroonie.
I don't even want it in the office over the weekend.
Put it in the safe deposit box in the bank,
and we'll get him to give us a cheque on Monday instead.
Yes.
He was flirting with you.
I guess he must've noticed my wedding ring.
Come in.
The copies. Mr. Lowery, if you don't mind, I'd like to go right on home after the bank.
- I have a slight... - You go right on home.
Because me and your boss are going out
and get ourselves a little drinking done. Right?
- Of course. Do you feel ill? - Just a headache.
What you need is a weekend in Las Vegas, the playground of the world.
I'm going to spend this weekend in bed. Thank you.
Aren't you going to take the pills? They'll knock that headache out.
Can't buy off unhappiness with pills.
I guess I'll go put this money in the bank and then go home and sleep it off.
Marion, what in the world... What are you doing up here?
Of course I'm glad to see you. always am.
What is it, Marion?
Hold it there.
In quite a hurry.
Yes. I didn't intend to sleep so long.
I almost had an accident last night from sleepiness,
- so I decided to pull over. - You slept here all night?
Yes. As I said, I couldn't keep my eyes open.
There are plenty of motels in this area. You should've...
I mean, just to be safe.
I didn't intend to sleep all night. I just pulled over. Have I broken any laws?
- No, ma'am. - Then I'm free to go?
Is anything wrong?
Of course not. Am I acting as if there's something wrong?
- Frankly, yes. - Please, I'd like to go.
- Well, is there? - Is there what?
I've told you there's nothing wrong,
except that I'm in a hurry and you're taking up my time.
Now, just a moment. Turn your motor off, please.
May I see your licence?
- Why? - Please.
Be with you in a second!
- I'm in no mood for trouble. - What?
There's an old saying. "The first customer of the day is always the most trouble."
But like I say, I'm in no mood for it,
so I'm gonna treat you so fair and square that you won't have one human reason...
Can I trade my car in and take another?
Do anything you have a mind to. Being a woman, you will. That yours?
Yes, it's... There's nothing wrong with it.
- I just... - Sick of the sight of it.
Why don't you have a look around here
and see if there's something that strikes your eyes.
And meanwhile, I'll have my mechanic give yours the once-over.
- You want some coffee? I was just about... - No, thank you.
I'm in a hurry and I just wanna make a change.
One thing people never ought to be
when they're buying used cars and that's in a hurry.
But like I said, it's too nice a day to argue. I'll shoot your car in the garage here.
That's the one I'd have picked for you myself.
- How much? - Go ahead.
- Spin it around the block. - It looks fine.
How much would it be with my car?
You mean you don't want the usual day and a half to think it over?
You are in a hurry, aren't you? Somebody chasing you?
Of course not. Please.
Well, it's the first time the customer ever high-pressured the salesman.
I figure roughly
your car plus $700.
- $700. - You always got time to argue money, huh?
All right.
I take it you can prove that car is yours.
I mean, out-of-state licence and all. You got your pink slip...
I believe I have the necessary papers. Is there a ladies' room?
In the building.
Over there.
I think you better take it for a trial spin.
I don't want any bad word of mouth about California Charlie.
I'd really rather not. Can't we just settle this and...
I might as well be perfectly honest with you, ma'am.
- It's not that I don't trust you, but... - But what?
Is there anything so terribly wrong
about making a decision and wanting to hurry?
- Do you think I've stolen my car? - No, ma'am.
All right, let's go inside.
Hey!
Just put it in here, please.
Thank you.
Heck, Officer,
that was the first time I ever saw the customer
high-pressure the salesman.
Somebody chasing her?
I better have a look at those papers, Charlie.
She look like a wrong one to you?
Acted like one.
The only funny thing, she paid me $700 in cash.
- Yes, Mr. Lowery. - Caroline, Marion still isn't in?
No, Mr. Lowery, but then she's always a bit late on Monday mornings.
Buzz me the minute she comes in.
And call her sister. No one's answering at the house.
I called her sister, Mr. Lowery, where she works,
the Music Makers Music Store, you know,
and she doesn't know where Marion is any more than we do.
You better run out to the house.
She may be, well, unable to answer the phone.
Her sister's going to do that. She's as worried as we are.
No, I haven't the faintest idea.
As I said, I last saw your sister when she left this office on Friday.
She said she didn't feel well and wanted to leave early, and I said she could.
That was the last I saw... Oh, wait a minute.
I did see her some time later, driving...
I think you'd better come over here to my office, quick.
Caroline, get Mr. Cassidy for me.
After all, Cassidy, I told you, all that cash!
I'm not taking the responsibility.
Oh, for heaven's sake.
A girl works for you for 10 years, you trust her.
All right, yes, you better come over.
Well, I ain't about to kiss off $40,000!
I'll get it back, and if any of it's missing, I'll replace it with her fine, soft flesh!
- I'll track her, never you doubt it. - Hold on, Cassidy.
I still can't believe... It must be some kind of a mystery. I can't...
You checked with the bank, no? They never laid eyes on her, no?
You still trusting? Hot creepers! She sat there while I dumped it out!
Hardly even looked at it. Planning. And even flirting with me!
Gee, I'm sorry I didn't hear you in all this rain.
Go ahead in, please.
- Dirty night. - You have a vacancy?
Oh, we have 12 vacancies. Twelve cabins, 12 vacancies.
They... They moved away the highway.
Oh, I thought I'd gotten off the main road.
I knew you must have.
Nobody ever stops here any more unless they've done that.
But there's no sense dwelling on our losses.
We just keep on lighting the lights and following the formalities.
Your home address. Oh, just the town will do.
Los Angeles.
Cabin One. It's closer in case you want anything.
Right next to the office.
I want sleep more than anything else, except maybe food.
Well, there's a big diner about 10 miles up the road, just outside of Fairvale.
- Am I that close to Fairvale? - Fifteen miles. I'll get your bags.
Boy, it's stuffy in here.
Well, the mattress is soft
and there's hangers in the closet and stationery with Bates Motel printed on it
in case you wanna make your friends back home feel envious.
And the...
- Over there. - The bathroom.
Yeah.
Well, if you want anything, just tap on the wall.
- I'll be in the office. - Thank you, Mr. Bates.
Norman Bates.
You're not really gonna go out again and drive up to the diner, are you?
No.
Well, then would you do me a favour? Would you have dinner with me?
I was just about to myself.
You know, nothing special, just sandwiches and milk.
But I'd like it very much if you'd come up to the house.
I don't set a fancy table, but the kitchen's awful homey.
- I'd like to. - All right.
You get yourself settled and take off your wet shoes,
and I'll be back as soon as it's ready.
Okay.
With my... With my trusty umbrella.
No! I tell you no!
I won't have you bringing strange young girls in for supper!
By candlelight, I suppose, in the cheap, erotic fashion
of young men with cheap, erotic minds!
Mother, please.
And then what, after supper? Music? Whispers?
Mother, she's just a stranger. She's hungry and it's raining out.
"Mother, she's just a stranger." As if men don't desire strangers. As if...
I refuse to speak of disgusting things, because they disgust me!
You understand, boy? Go on.
Go tell her she'll not be appeasing her ugly appetite
with my food or my son!
Or do I have to tell her 'cause you don't have the guts?
- Huh, boy? You have the guts, boy? - Shut up! Shut up!
- I've caused you some trouble. - No.
Mother... My mother...
What is the phrase?
She isn't quite herself today.
You shouldn't have bothered. I really don't have that much of an appetite.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I wish you could apologise for other people.
Don't worry about it.
But as long as you've fixed a supper, we may as well eat it.
It might be nicer and warmer in the office.
Well, it stopped raining.
Eating in an office is just too officious.
- I have the parlour back here. - All right.
- Sit down. - Thank you.
You're very kind.
It's all for you. I'm not hungry. Go ahead.
You... You eat like a bird.
And you'd know, of course.
No, not really.
Anyway, I hear the expression "Eats like a bird"
is really a false... Falsity.
Because birds really eat a tremendous lot.
But I don't really know anything about birds.
My hobby is stuffing things.
You know, taxidermy.
And I guess I'd just rather stuff birds because
I hate the look of beasts when they're stuffed.
You know, foxes and chimps.
Some people even stuff dogs and cats, but, oh, I can't do that.
I think only birds look well stuffed because...
Well, because they're kind of passive to begin with.
It's a strange hobby. Curious.
- Uncommon, too. - Oh, I imagine so.
And it's not as expensive as you'd think. It's cheap, really.
You know, needles and thread, sawdust.
The chemicals are the only thing that cost anything.
A man should have a hobby.
Well, it's... It's more than a hobby.
A hobby's supposed to pass the time, not fill it.
Is your time so empty?
No.
Well, I run the office
and tend the cabins and grounds
and do little errands for my mother.
The ones she allows I might be capable of doing.
Do you go out with friends?
Well, a boy's best friend is his mother.
You've never had an empty moment in your entire life, have you?
- Only my share. - Where are you going?
I didn't mean to pry.
I'm looking for a private island.
What are you running away from?
- Why do you ask that? - I don't know.
People never run away from anything.
The rain didn't last long, did it? You know what I think?
I think that
we're all in our private traps,
clamped in them, and none of us can ever get out.
We scratch and claw,
but only at the air, only at each other.
And for all of it, we never budge an inch.
Sometimes we deliberately step into those traps.
I was born in mine. I don't mind it any more.
Oh, but you should. You should mind it.
Oh, I do, but I say I don't.
You know, if anyone ever talked to me the way I heard,
the way she spoke to you...
Sometimes when she talks to me like that,
I feel I'd like to go up there and curse her and leave her forever.
Or at least defy her.
But I know I can't.
She's ill.
She sounded strong.
No, I mean ill.
She had to raise me all by herself, after my father died.
I was only five and it must've been quite a strain for her.
I mean, she didn't have to go to work or anything like that.
He left her a little money.
Anyway, a few years ago, Mother met this man.
And he talked her into building this motel.
He could have talked her into anything.
And when he died, too, it was just too great a shock for her.
And the way he died...
I guess it's nothing to talk about while you're eating.
Anyway, it was just too great a loss for her. She had nothing left.
Except you.
Well, a son is a poor substitute for a lover.
Why don't you go away?
To a private island, like you?
No, not like me.
I couldn't do that. Who'd look after her?
She'd be alone up there.
Her fire would go out.
It'd be cold and damp like a grave.
If you love someone,
you don't do that to them, even if you hate them.
You understand, I don't hate her.
I hate what she's become.
I hate the illness.
Wouldn't it be better if you put her
someplace...
You mean an institution? A madhouse?
People always call a madhouse "someplace," don't they?
Put her in someplace.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to sound uncaring.
What do you know about caring?
Have you ever seen the inside of one of those places?
The laughing and the tears
and the cruel eyes studying you.
My mother there?
But she's harmless.
She's as harmless as one of those stuffed birds.
I am sorry.
I only felt... It seems she's hurting you.
- I meant well. - People always mean well.
They cluck their thick tongues and shake their heads
and suggest, oh, so very delicately.
Of course, I've suggested it myself.
But I hate to even think about it.
She needs me.
It's not as if she were
a maniac, a raving thing.
She just goes a little mad sometimes.
We all go a little mad sometimes.
Haven't you?
Yes.
Sometimes just one time can be enough.
Thank you.
Thank you, Norman.
Norman.
Oh, you're not going back to your room already?
I'm very tired.
And I have a long drive tomorrow, all the way back to Phoenix.
Really?
I stepped into a private trap back there
and I'd like to go back and try to pull myself out of it
before it's too late for me, too.
Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay just a little while longer?
Just for talk?
Oh, I'd like to, but...
All right.
Well, I'll see you in the morning. I'll bring you some breakfast, all right?
- What time? - Very early. Dawn.
All right, Miss...
- Crane. - Crane. That's it.
Good night.
No!
Mother! Oh, God, Mother!
Blood! Blood!
I've tried many brands.
So far, of those I've used, I haven't had much luck with any of them.
Let's see what they say about this one.
They tell you what its ingredients are
and how it's guaranteed to exterminate every insect in the world,
but they do not tell you whether or not it's painless.
And I say, insect or man, death should always be painless.
I suppose, this one seems to claim more and better qualities than lots of the others.
Sam?
Sam! Lady wants to see you.
- Yes, miss? - I'm Marion's sister.
- Oh, sure. Lila. - Is Marion here?
- Well, of course not. - Thank you.
Something wrong?
She left home on Friday.
I was in Tucson over the weekend and I haven't heard from her since.
Not even a phone call.
Look, if you two are in this thing together, I don't care, it's none of my business,
but I want to talk to Marion and I want her to tell me
it's none of my business and then I'll go...
Bob, run out and get yourself some lunch, will you?
- That's okay, Sam. I brought it with me. - Run out and eat it.
Now, what thing could we be in together?
Sorry about the tears.
Well, is Marion in trouble? What is it?
Let's all talk about Marion, shall we?
Who are you, friend?
My name is Arbogast, friend.
I'm a private investigator.
- Where is she, Miss Crane? - I don't know you.
Why, I know you don't, because if you did, I wouldn't be able to follow you.
What's your interest in this?
Well, $40,000.
- $40,000? - That's right.
Well, one of you'd better tell me what's going on, and tell me fast.
- I can take just so much of this... - Now, take it easy, friend.
Take it easy. It's just that your girlfriend stole $40,000.
What are you talking about? What is this?
She was supposed to bank it on Friday for her boss and she didn't.
- And no one has seen her since. - Someone has seen her.
Someone always sees a girl with $40,000.
Sam, they don't want to prosecute, they just want the money back.
- Sam, if she's here... - She isn't. She isn't.
Miss Crane, can I ask you a question?
Did you come up here on just a hunch and nothing more?
Not even a hunch. Just hope.
Well, with a little checking I could get to believe you.
I don't care if you believe me or not.
All I want to do is see Marion before she gets in this too deeply.
Did you check in Phoenix? Hospitals? Maybe she had an accident, or a holdup.
No, she was seen leaving town in her own car,
by her employer, I might add.
I can't believe it. Can you?
Well, you know, we're always quickest to doubt people
who have a reputation for being honest.
I think she's here, Miss Crane.
Where there's a boyfriend...
Well, she's not back there with the nuts and bolts,
but she's here, in this town somewhere.
I'll find her. I'll be seeing you.
- Evening. - Evening.
I almost drove right past.
I'm always forgetting to turn the sign on, but we do have a vacancy.
Twelve, in fact. Twelve cabins, twelve vacancies. Candy?
No, thanks.
Last two days, I've been to so many motels my eyes are bleary with neon,
but, you know, this is the first place that looks like it's hiding from the world.
Well, I'll tell you the truth. I didn't really forget to turn the sign on.
Just doesn't seem like any use any more, you know.
See, that used to be the main highway right there.
Well, wanna come in and register?
No, no, sit down. I don't wanna trouble you.
- I just wanna ask a few questions. - No, that's no trouble. Today's linen day.
I always change the beds here once a week whether they've been used or not.
Hate the smell of dampness, don't you? It's such a...
I don't know, creepy smell. Come on.
You out to buy a motel?
No.
Reason I ask, you said you'd seen so many
in the past couple of days, I thought maybe you...
What... What was it you wanted to ask?
Well, you see, I'm looking for a missing person.
My name's Arbogast. I'm a private investigator.
I've been trying to trace a girl
that's been missing for, oh, about a week now from Phoenix.
It's a private matter. The family wants to forgive her.
She's not in any trouble.
I didn't think the police went looking for people who aren't in trouble.
- I'm not the police. - Oh, yeah.
We have reason to believe that she came along this way.
May have stopped in the area. Did she stop here?
Well, no one's stopped here for a couple of weeks.
Would you mind looking at the picture before committing yourself?
Commit myself?
- You sure talk like a policeman. - Look at the picture, please.
Mmm-mmm.
- Sure? - Yeah.
Well, she may have used an alias.
Marion Crane's her real name,
but she could've registered under a different one.
Well, I tell you, I don't even much bother with guests registering any more.
You know, one by one, you drop the formalities.
I shouldn't even bother changing the sheets,
but old habits die hard.
Which reminds me...
- What's that? - It's the light. The sign.
We had a couple last week, said if the thing hadn't been on,
they would've thought this was an old, deserted...
Well, you see, that's exactly my point.
You said that nobody'd been here for a couple weeks,
and there's a couple came by and didn't know that you were open.
Yeah.
Well, as you say, old habits die hard.
It's possible, this girl could've registered under another name.
Do you mind if I look at your book?
- No. - Thank you.
All right.
I'll get the date somewhere.
See, there's nobody.
Let's see now, I have a sample of her handwriting here.
Oh, yes.
Here we are.
Marie Samuels. That's an interesting alias.
- Is that her? - Yeah. Yeah, I think so.
Marie, Marion.
Samuels. Her boyfriend's name is Sam.
Mmm-hmm.
Was she in disguise, by any chance?
- Wanna check the picture again? - Look, I wasn't lying to you, Mr...
Oh, I know that. I know you wouldn't lie.
You know, it's tough keeping track of the time around here.
Oh, I know, I know.
Oh, yeah.
Well, it was raining
and her hair was all wet.
I tell you, it's not really a very good picture of her either.
No, I guess not.
Tell me all about her.
Well,
she arrived rather late one night, and she went straight to sleep
and left early the next morning.
- How early? - Oh, very early.
Mmm-hmm. Which morning was that?
The...
- The next morning. Sunday. - I see.
- Did anyone meet her here? - No.
- Did she arrive with anyone? - No.
- Did she make any phone calls or... - No.
Locally?
Did you spend the night with her?
No.
Well then, how would you know that she didn't make any phone calls?
Well, she was very tired and...
See, now I'm starting to remember.
I'm making a mental picture of it in my mind.
You know, if you make a mental picturisation of something...
That's right. That's right. Take your time.
She was... She was sitting back there...
No, no, she was standing back there with a sandwich in her hand
and she said she had to go to sleep early
because she had a long drive ahead of her.
- Back where? - Back where she came from.
No, you said before that she was sitting back there... Standing back there...
Yes, back in my parlour there.
She was very hungry and I made her a sandwich
and then she said that she was tired and she had to go right to bed.
I see. How did she pay you?
- Cash? Cheque? - Cash.
Cash, huh?
- And after she left, she didn't come back? - Well, why should she?
Yeah.
Well, Mr. Arbogast, I guess that's about it.
I've got some work to do, if you don't mind.
Well, to tell you the truth, I do mind.
You see, if it doesn't jell, it isn't aspic, and this ain't jelling.
It's not coming together. Something's missing.
Well, I don't know what you could expect me to know.
People just come and go, you know.
- That's right. She isn't still here, is she? - No.
If I wanted to check the cabins, all 12 of them,
I'd need a warrant, wouldn't I?
Listen, if you don't believe me, come on with me. You can help me change beds.
- Okay? - No, thanks.
Change your mind?
You know, I... I think I must have one of those faces you just can't help believing.
- Is anyone at home? - No.
Oh? There's somebody sitting up in the window.
- No, no, there isn't. - Sure, go ahead. Take a look.
Oh, that must be my mother.
She's an invalid.
It's practically like living alone.
Oh, I see.
Now, if this girl, Marion Crane, were here, you wouldn't be hiding her, would you?
- No. - Not even if she paid you well?
No.
Let's just say, just for the sake of argument, that she wanted you to gallantly protect her.
You'd know that you were being used.
You wouldn't be made a fool of, would you?
- But I'm not a fool. - Well, I...
And I'm not capable of being fooled, not even by a woman.
- Well, this is not a slur on your manhood. - Let's put it this way.
She might have fooled me, but she didn't fool my mother.
Well, then your mother met her. Could I talk to your mother?
No. As I told you, she's confined.
Yes, but just for a few minutes. That's all.
There might be some hint that you missed out on.
You know, sick old women are usually pretty sharp.
- Mr. Arbogast... I think I've... - Just for a moment. I wouldn't disturb her.
- I think I've talked to you all I want to. - Yes, but just for...
I think it'd be much better if you left now. Thanks.
Well, all right.
You sure would save me a lot of leg work if you'd let me talk to her.
- Would I need a warrant for that, too? - Sure.
Uh-huh.
All right. Thanks anyway.
Hello, Loomis. This is Arbogast. Is Lila there?
Okay. Let me talk to her, please.
Hello, Lila.
Lila, listen. Marion was up here.
Yes, she spent last Saturday night at the Bates Motel.
It's right out here on the old highway.
I even know what cabin she was in. It was number one.
Well, this young fella that runs the place said that she just spent the night,
left the next day and that was it.
No, not exactly.
Well, I did question him, believe me, but I think I got all there was to get.
I'll just have to pick up the pieces from here.
Well, I tell you, I don't feel entirely satisfied...
See, this boy had a sick old mother.
I think she saw Marion and talked to her.
No. No, unfortunately, he wouldn't let me see her.
Well, I was, but I think I'll go back to the motel first.
No, you stay there with Loomis. I'll be back in about an hour.
All right, fine. Listen, I...
You'll be happy to know what I think.
I think our friend Sam Loomis didn't know that Marion was here.
Yeah. All right. See you in about an hour or less.
All right, bye-bye.
Bates?
Sometimes Saturday night has a lonely sound.
Ever notice that, Lila?
Sam, he said an hour or less.
Yeah.
- It's been three. - Well, are we just going to sit here and wait?
He'll be back.
Let's sit still and hang on, okay?
- How far is the old highway? - You wanna go out there, don't you?
- Bust in on Arbogast and the old lady... - Yes.
- Maybe shake her up. - Yes!
- That wouldn't be a wise thing to do. - Patience doesn't run in my family, Sam.
- I'm going out there. - Look, Arbogast said...
An hour, or less.
- Well, I'm going. - You'll never find it.
- Stay here. - Why can't I go with you?
I don't know. One of us has to be here, in case he's on the way.
What am I supposed to do, just sit here and wait?
Yeah. Stay here.
Arbogast?
Arbogast!
- He didn't come back here? - Sam!
No Arbogast, no Bates. Only the old lady at home.
Sick old lady unable to answer the door, or unwilling.
Where could he have gone?
Maybe he got some definite lead. Maybe he went right on.
- Without calling me? - In a hurry.
Sam, he called when he had nothing. Nothing but a dissatisfied feeling.
Don't you think he'd have called if he had anything at all?
Yes, I think he would've.
- Let's go see Al Chambers. - Who's he?
- Our deputy sheriff around here. - All right. Let me get my coat.
Good evening.
Well, I don't know where to start, except at the beginning.
Yes.
- This is Lila Crane from Phoenix. - How do you do?
She's been here searching for her sister. There's this private detective helping and...
Well, we got a call from this detective
saying that he'd traced her to that motel out on the old highway.
That must be the Bates Motel.
He traced her there and called us to say he was going to question Mrs. Bates.
Norman took a wife?
No, I don't think so. An old woman. His mother.
Well, anyway, that was early this evening. We haven't seen or heard from him since.
Now, your sister's missing how long?
Well, she left Phoenix a week ago yesterday, without a trace.
How'd you and this detective come to trace her to Fairvale?
They thought she'd be coming to me.
- Left Phoenix under her own steam? - Yes.
She's not missing so much as she's run away.
- That's right. - From what?
A lot?
$40,000.
And the police haven't been able to...
Everyone concerned thought if they could get her to give the money back,
they could avoid involving her with the police.
That explains the private detective. He traced her to the Bates place.
What exactly did he say when he called you?
Well, he said that Marion was there for one night and then she left.
With the $40,000?
Well, he didn't say anything about the money.
It isn't important what he said on the phone, is it?
He was supposed to come back here and talk to us
after he talked to the mother, and he didn't.
That's what I want you to do something about.
Like what?
I'm sorry if I seem overanxious.
It's just that I'm sure there's something wrong out there and I have to know what.
Well, I think there's something wrong too, miss, but not the same thing.
I think what's wrong is your private detective.
I think he got himself a hot lead as to where your sister was going,
probably from Norman Bates,
and called you to keep you still while he took off after her and the money.
No, no, he said he was dissatisfied and he was going back there.
Why don't you call Norman and let him say just what happened?
At this hour?
Well, he was out when I was there just a while ago.
If he's back, he probably isn't even in bed yet.
He wasn't out when you were there,
he just wasn't answering the door in the dead of night, like some people do.
This fellow lives like a hermit.
You must remember that bad business out there about 10 years ago.
Please. Call.
Florrie, the Sheriff wants you to connect him with the Bates Motel.
Hello, Norman? Sheriff Chambers.
I've been just fine, thanks.
Listen, we got worries here.
Yeah, have you had a fella stop by there tonight...
Well, this one wouldn't be a customer, anyway.
- He's a private detective, name of... - Arbogast.
Arbogast.
And after he left?
No, that's okay, Norman.
This detective was there, Norman told him about the girl,
the detective thanked him and he went away.
And he didn't come back? He didn't see the mother?
Your detective told you he couldn't come right back
because he was going to question Norman Bates' mother, right?
Yes.
Norman Bates' mother has been dead and buried
in Green Lawn Cemetery for the past 10 years.
I helped Norman pick out the dress she was buried in. Periwinkle blue.
It ain't only local history, Sam.
It's the only case of murder and suicide on Fairvale ledgers.
Mrs. Bates poisoned this guy she was involved with
when she found out he was married.
Then took a helping of the same stuff herself.
Strychnine. Ugly way to die.
Norman found them dead together.
In bed.
You mean that old woman I saw sitting in the window out there wasn't Bates' mother?
Now, wait a minute, Sam. Are you sure you saw an old woman?
Yes! In the house behind the motel!
I called and pounded but she just ignored me!
You want to tell me you saw Norman Bates' mother?
But it had to be because Arbogast said so, too!
And the young man wouldn't let him see her because she was too ill.
Well, if the woman up there is Mrs. Bates,
who's that woman buried out in Green Lawn Cemetery?
Now, Mother, I'm gonna bring something up...
I am sorry, boy,
but you do manage to look ludicrous when you give me orders.
Please, Mother.
No! I will not hide in the fruit cellar.
You think I'm fruity, huh?
I'm staying right here.
This is my room and no one will drag me out of it,
least of all my big, bold son.
They'll come now, Mother.
He came after the girl, and now someone will come after him.
Mother, please, it's just for a few days.
Just for a few days so they won't find you.
Just for a few days?
In that dark, dank fruit cellar? No!
You hid me there once, boy, and you won't do it again, not ever again!
Now get out!
- I told you to get out, boy. - I'll carry you, Mother.
Norman, what do you think you're doing?
Don't you touch me! Don't! Norman!
Put me down! Put me down! I can walk on my own.
- Good morning. - Good morning.
Good morning.
We thought if you didn't mind, we'd drive out to that motel with you.
- He's already been. - Went out before service.
- Did you two have breakfast? - You didn't find anything?
Nothing. Let's clear the way here.
Well, what did he say about my sister?
Just what he told your detective, she used a fake name.
Saw the register myself.
Saw the whole place, as a matter of fact. That boy's alone there.
- No mother? - You must have seen an illusion, Sam.
I know you're not the seeing-illusions type,
but no woman was there and I don't believe in ghosts,
- so there it is. - I still feel that there's something...
Can see you do. I'm sorry I couldn't make you feel better.
You want to come around to my office this afternoon
and report a missing person and a theft, that's what you want to do.
The sooner you drop this in the lap of the law,
that's the sooner you stand a chance of your sister being picked up.
How about that?
- I don't know. - It's Sunday.
Come on over to the house and do your reporting around dinnertime.
It'll make it nicer.
- You too, Sam. - Thank you.
- Maybe I am the seeing-illusions type. - No, you're not.
Well, you want me to drop you at the hotel or...
Sam.
I still won't feel satisfied until I go out there.
Neither will I. Come on.
We better decide what we're gonna say or do when we walk in there.
We're going to register as man and wife.
We're going to get shown to a cabin,
and then we're going to search every inch of the place, inside and out.
I wonder where Norman Bates does his hermiting.
Someone's at that window. I just saw the curtain move.
Come on.
- Well? - Just coming up to ring for you.
Uh-huh.
Suppose you want a room.
We were gonna try to make it straight to San Francisco,
but we don't like the look of that sky.
- Looks like a bad day coming, doesn't it? - Okay.
- I'll take you to Cabin 10. - Better sign in first, hadn't we?
No. That's not necessary.
My boss is paying for this trip and, well, it's 90% business.
He wants practically notarised receipts.
I'd better sign in and get a receipt.
Thank you.
- I'll get your bags. - Haven't any.
- I'll show you the room, then. - First time I've ever seen it happen.
You check in any other place in this country without bags
and you have to pay in advance.
$10.
That receipt.
I'll go on ahead.
All right, there's your receipt. Now, I'll show you the cabin.
Don't bother yourself. We'll find it.
Sam, we have to go into that cabin and search it,
no matter what we're afraid of finding or how much it may hurt.
I know.
Do you think if something happened, it happened there?
I don't know.
But if you had a useless business like this motel,
what would you need to get out?
To get a new business somewhere else?
$40,000?
How could we prove that...
Well, if he opens a motel on the new highway in, say, a year...
There must be some proof that exists now,
something that proves he got that money away from Marion somehow.
- What makes you sound so certain? - Arbogast. He liked me, Sam.
Or he felt sorry for me and he was beginning to feel the same way about you.
I could tell the last time I talked to him on the phone.
He wouldn't have gone anywhere
or done anything without telling us, unless he was stopped.
And he was stopped. So he must have found out something.
We'll start with Cabin One.
If he sees us, we're just taking the air.
Bates.
- No shower curtain. - Sam!
- Look! - What is it?
It's figuring. It didn't get washed down. Look.
Some figure has been added to or subtracted from 40,000.
That proves Marion was here.
- It'd be too wild a coincidence... - Bates never denied she was here.
Well, doesn't that prove that he found out about the money?
Do we simply ask him where he's hidden it?
No.
But that old woman, whoever she is, she told Arbogast something.
I want her to tell us the same thing.
- You can't go up there. - Why not?
- Bates. - Well, let's find him.
One of us can keep him occupied while the other gets to the old woman.
You'll never be able to hold him still if he doesn't want to be held.
- I don't like you going into that house alone. - I can handle a sick old woman.
All right, I'll find Bates and keep him occupied.
Wait a minute.
If you get anything out of the mother,
can you find your way back to town?
Yes, of course.
If you do get anything, don't stop to tell me.
- You looking for me? - Why, yes, as a matter of fact.
Wife's taking a nap
and I never can keep quiet enough for her, so I just thought I'd look you up and talk.
- Good. You satisfied with your cabin? - Oh, it's fine.
I've been doing all the talking so far, haven't I?
I thought it was the people who were alone most of the time
who did all the talking when they got the chance.
Here you are doing all the listening.
- You are alone here, aren't you? - Mmm-hmm.
Drive me crazy.
I think that would be a rather extreme reaction, don't you?
Just an expression.
What I meant was I'd do just about anything to get away.
- Wouldn't you? - No.
Mrs. Bates?
I'm not saying you shouldn't be contented here,
I'm just doubting that you are.
I think if you saw a chance to get out from under, you'd unload this place.
This place? This place happens to be my only world.
I grew up in that house up there. I had a very happy childhood.
My mother and I were more than happy.
You look frightened. Have I been saying something frightening?
I don't know what you've been saying.
I've been talking about your mother, about your motel.
- How you gonna do it? - Do what?
Buy a new one in a new town where you won't have to hide your mother.
Why don't you just get in your car and drive away from here, okay?
Where will you get the money to do that, Bates?
Or do you already have it socked away?
- Shut up! - A lot of it. $40,000.
I bet your mother knows where the money is and what you did to get it.
I think she'll tell us.
Where's that girl you came here with? Where is she?
Mrs. Bates...
I'm Norma Bates!
If anyone gets any answers it'll be the psychiatrist.
Even I couldn't get to Norman and he knows me.
- You warm enough, miss? - Yes.
Did he talk to you?
No.
I got the whole story, but not from Norman. I got it from his mother.
Norman Bates no longer exists.
He only half-existed to begin with.
And now the other half has taken over,
probably for all time.
Did he kill my sister?
Yes. And no.
Well, now look, if you're trying to lay some psychiatric groundwork
for some sort of plea, this fellow would like to cop...
A psychiatrist doesn't lay the groundwork.
He merely tries to explain it.
Yes.
Yes, I'm sorry.
The private investigator, too.
If you drag that swamp somewhere in the vicinity of the motel, you'll...
Have you any unsolved missing persons cases on your books?
- Yes, two. - Young girls?
- Did he confess to... - Like I said, the mother.
Now, to understand it the way I understood it, hearing it from the mother,
that is, from the mother half of Norman's mind,
you have to go back 10 years
to the time when Norman murdered his mother and her lover.
Now, he was already dangerously disturbed, had been ever since his father died.
His mother was a clinging, demanding woman,
and for years the two of them lived as if there was no one else in the world.
Then she met a man,
and it seemed to Norman that she threw him over for this man.
Now, that pushed him over the line and he killed them both.
Matricide is probably the most unbearable crime of all,
most unbearable to the son who commits it.
So he had to erase the crime, at least in his own mind.
He stole her corpse.
A weighted coffin was buried.
He hid the body in the fruit cellar,
even treated it to keep it as well as it would keep.
And that still wasn't enough.
She was there, but she was a corpse.
So he began to think and speak for her,
give her half his life, so to speak.
At times he could be both personalities, carry on conversations.
At other times, the mother half took over completely.
He was never all Norman, but he was often only Mother,
and because he was so pathologically jealous of her,
he assumed that she was as jealous of him.
Therefore, if he felt a strong attraction to any other woman,
the mother side of him would go wild.
When he met your sister,
he was touched by her, aroused by her.
He wanted her.
That set off the jealous mother, and Mother killed the girl.
After the murder, Norman returned as if from a deep sleep,
and, like a dutiful son, covered up all traces of the crime
he was convinced his mother had committed!
Why was he dressed like that?
He's a transvestite.
Not exactly.
A man who dresses in women's clothing in order to achieve a sexual change
or satisfaction is a transvestite.
But in Norman's case, he was simply doing everything possible
to keep alive the illusion of his mother being alive.
And when reality came too close,
when danger or desire threatened that illusion,
he'd dress up, even to a cheap wig he bought.
He'd walk about the house, sit in her chair, speak in her voice.
He tried to be his mother.
And now he is.
That's what I meant when I said I got the story from the mother.
You see, when the mind houses two personalities,
there's always a conflict, a battle.
In Norman's case, the battle is over,
and the dominant personality has won.
And the $40,000? Who got that?
The swamp. These were crimes of passion, not profit.
He feels a little chill. Can I bring him this blanket?
- Oh, sure. - All right.
Thank you.
It's sad when a mother has to speak the words
that condemn her own son,
but I couldn't allow them to believe that I would commit murder.
They'll put him away now, as I should have years ago.
He was always bad,
and in the end he intended to tell them I killed those girls and that man,
as if I could do anything except just sit and stare,
like one of his stuffed birds.
They know I can't even move a finger, and I won't.
I'll just sit here and be quiet, just in case they do suspect me.
They're probably watching me. Well, let them.
Let them see what kind of a person I am.
I'm not even gonna swat that fly.
I hope they are watching. They'll see.
They'll see and they'll know,
and they'll say, "Why, she wouldn't even harm a fly."