All language subtitles for Psycho.en

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?

It's 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 a 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.

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.

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 it.

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.
- But when you do, you'll swing.

Oh, Sam, let's get married.

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.

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.
- We can leave together, can't we?

Mm-mm. I'm late and, uh,
you have to put your shoes on.

Isn't Mr Lowery
back from lunch?

He's lunching with the man who's
buying the Harris Street property.

The old 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 tranquillizers.

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...

Wow. It's as hot
as fresh milk.

Hey, you girls oughta get your boss
to air condition ya 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... Oh, not you.
My daughter.

A baby.

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, uh...
Are you unhappy?

Uh, not inordinately.

I'm buying this house
for my baby's wedding present.

Forty thousand
dollars cash.

Now that's...
that's not buying happiness.

That's just buying off unhappiness.

I never carry more than
I can afford to lose.

- Count 'em!
- I declare!

I don't. That's how
I get to keep it.

Tom, a cash transaction
of this size is most irregular.

Ah, 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, uh, 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 a cheque on Monday.

Yes.

He was flirting with you. I guess
he must've noticed my wedding ring.

Come in.

The copies. If you don't mind,
I'd like to go home after the bank.

- I have a slight...
- You go right on home.

Because me and your boss are goin' out
and get ourselves...

a little drinkin' 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.
I always am.

What is it, Marion?

- Uh, hold it there.

In quite a hurry.

I didn't intend to sleep so long. I
almost had an accident 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 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: "First customer
of the day is always the most trouble. "

But I'm in no mood for it...

so I'm gonna treat you so fair
you won't have one reason...

- Can I trade my car and take another?
- Do anything you have a mind to.

Bein' a woman, you will.
That yours?

Yes, it's, it's... There's
nothing wrong with it. I just...

Sick of the sight of it.

Have a look around and see if there's
something that strikes your eyes...

and I'll have my mechanic
give yours the once-over.

- You want some coffee?
- No, thank you. I'm in a hurry...

and just wanna make a change.

One thing people never oughta be
when they're buyin' 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 chasin' ya?

Of course not.
Please.

Well, it's the first time the customer
ever high pressured the salesman.

Ah, I figure roughly...

your car plus $700.

- Seven hundred.
- You always got time to argue money.

All right.

I take it you can prove
that car is yours.

I mean, out-of-state licence.
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...

I might as well be perfectly honest with
you. It's not that I don't trust you...

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 saw the customer
high pressure the salesman.

Somebody chasin' 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 where she works...
The Music Makers Music Store...

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...

Uh, 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 ten 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
missin', 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, I can't...

You checked with the bank, no?
They never laid eyes on her, no?

You still trustin'? Hot creepers!
She sat there while I dumped it out!

Hardly even looked at it. Plannin'.
And, and even flirtin' with me!

Gee, I'm sorry I didn't hear you
in all this rain. Go ahead in, please.

- Dirty night.
- Do you have a vacancy?

Oh, we have 12 vacancies.
12 cabins, 12 vacancies.

They, uh... 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. It's right next to the office.

I want sleep more than anything else,
except maybe food.

There's a big diner about ten 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, uh, mattress
is soft and...

there's hangers in the closet
and stationary...

with "Bates Motel"
printed on it...

in case you wanna make your
friends back home feel envious.

And the, uh...

- Over there.
- The bathroom.

Yeah.

Well, uh, i-i-if you want anything,
just... 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.
- Then would you do me a favour?

Would you have dinner with me?

I was just about to myself. 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,
and take off your wet shoes.

- 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...

Oh! I refuse to speak of disgusting
things, because they disgust me!

Do 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, uh...

Mother...
My mother, uh...

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 apologize
for other people.

Don't worry about it.

But as long as you've fixed
the supper, we may as well eat it.

It, uh... It might be, uh, nicer
and warmer in the office.

Well, it stopped
raining.

Uh, eating in an office
is just... just too officious.

- I have the parlour back here.
- All right.

- Sit down.
- Oh, 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 fal...
false... falsity.

Because birds really
eat a tremendous lot.

But I really don't 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... 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, 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. Uh...

Well, I run the office...

and tend the cabins
and grounds...

and do little, uh,
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?
- No.

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...
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, 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,
it must've been quite a strain for her.

I mean, she didn't have to go to work or
anything. He left her a little money.

Anyway, a few years ago,
Mother met this man.

And he... 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.

The 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...
I don't hate her.

I hate what she's become.
I hate the illness.

Wouldn't it be better
if you put her... some place?

You mean an institution?
A madhouse?

People always call
a madhouse "some place," don't they?

Put her in "some place. "

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... It's not as if she were
a... a maniac, a raving thing.

She...

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... 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...

bef ore it's too late
for me too.

Are you sure you wouldn't like
to stay a little while longer?

- I mean, 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, uh...

- Crane.
- Crane. That's it.

Good night.

Ow! No!

No! Aaah!

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 it's painless.

And I say, insect or man,
death should always be painless.

This one seems to claim more and better
qualities than lots of the others.

Sam?

Sam!
Lady wants to see ya.

- Yes, miss?
- I'm Marion's sister.

- Oh, sure. Lila.
- Is Marion here?

- Well, of course not. Something wrong?
- Thank you.

- 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.

If you two are in this together,
it's none of my business...

but I want Marion to tell me it's none
of my business and then I'll go...

Bob, run out and get yourself
some lunch, will ya?

- That's okay. 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.

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.

One of you'd better tell me what's going
on, and fast. I can take so much...

Now, take it easy,
friend.

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.

- No one has seen her since.
- Someone has seen her.

Someone always sees a girl
with $40,000.

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, did you come
up here on a hunch and nothing more?

Oh, 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
bef ore she gets in this too deeply.

Did you check Phoenix?
Maybe she had an accident, or a hold-up.

No, she was seen leaving town in her
own car... by her employer, I might add.

I can't believe it.
Can you?

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...

She's not back there with the nuts and
bolts, but she's 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 this is the first place that looks
like it's hiding from the world.

To tell the truth, I didn't
really forget to turn the sign on.

- Just doesn't seem like any use any more.
- Oh?

See, that used to be
the main highway right there.

- Wanna register?
- Sit down. I don't wanna trouble you.

- I just wanna ask a few questions.
- No trouble. Today's linen day.

I always change the beds once a week
whether they've been used or not.

Hate the smell of dampness. It's such
a, I don't know... creepy smell.

You out to buy
a motel?

No.

Reason I ask, you said you'd seen
so many the past couple of days...

I thought maybe...

What, uh... What was it
you wanted to ask?

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 she came
along this way. Did she stop here?

No one's stopped here
for a couple of weeks.

Mind looking at the picture
bef ore committing yourself?

Commit myself?

- You sure talk like a policeman.
- Look at the picture, please.

- Mm-mmm. Yeah.
- Sure?

Well, she may have
used an alias.

Marion Crane's
her real name...

but she could've registered
under a different one.

I tell ya, I don't even much bother
with guests registering any more.

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?
- The sign.

A couple last week said
if the thing hadn't been on...

they would've thought
this was an old, deserted...

You see,
that's exactly my point.

Nobody'd been here
for a couple weeks...

and there's a couple came by
and didn't know that you were open.

As you say,
old habits die hard.

This girl could've registered
under another name. Mind if I look?

- No.
- Thank you.

All right.

I'll get the date
somewhere. Mm-hmm.

See, there's nobody.

Let's see, I have a sample
of her handwriting here.

Oh, yes.

Here we are.

- Marie Samuels.
- Hmm.

That's an interesting
alias.

- Is that her?
- Yeah, I think so.

Marie, Marion.

- Samuels. Her boyfriend's name is Sam.
- Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm. Was she
in disguise, by any chance?

- Wanna check the picture again?
- I wasn't lying to you.

Oh, I know that.
I know you wouldn't lie.

It's tough keeping track
of the time around here.

I know.

Oh, yeah.

Well, i-i-it was raining
and, um, her hair was all wet.

I tell ya, it's not really
a very good picture of her.

No, I guess not.

Tell me all about her.

Well, um...

she arrived, um, rather late
one night, went straight to sleep...

and, uh, left early
the next morning.

- How early?
- Oh, ex... very early.

Mm-hmm.
Which morning was that?

Uh, the, um...

Th-Th-Th-The next morning.

- Sunday.
- I see. Mm-hmm.

- Did anyone meet her here?
- No.

- Did she arrive with anyone?
- No.

- Did she make any phone calls or...
- No.

- Locally?
- Uh-uh.

- Did you spend the night with her?
- No.

Then how would you know
she didn't make any calls?

Uh, w-w...

Well, she was very tired
a- and, uh...

See, I... N-Now I'm starting
to, um... remember.

I- I'm making a mental picture
of it in my mind.

- If you make a mental picturization...
- Right. Take your time.

Um, she was...
she was sitting back there...

N- No, she was standing back there
with a sandwich in her hand.

She said she had to
go to sleep early...

because she had a long d-d-dr-drive,
uh, ahead of her.

- Mm-hmm. Back where?
- Back where she came from.

No, you said bef ore she
was standing back there...

Yes, b-back in my parlour.

She was very hungry,
I made her a sandwich...

and then she said she was tired and
she, uh, um, had to go r-right to bed.

I see.
How did she pay you?

- Cash? Cheque?
- Cash.

Cash, huh?
Mm-hmm.

- After she left, she didn't come back?
- Uh-uh. Why should she?

Hmm.

Well, M-Mr. Arbogast, uh,
I guess that's about it.

I- I've got some work to do,
if you don't mind.

To tell you the truth,
I do mind.

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-I-I don't know
what you c-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
twelve, I'd need a warrant, wouldn't I?

If you don't believe me, come on
with me. You can help me change beds.

Oh.
No, thanks.

Uh, change your mind?

Oh.

You know, I... I think I have one of
those faces you can't help believing.

- Is anyone at home?
- No.

Oh? There's somebody
sitting in the window.

- N-N-No, there isn't.
- Sure. Take a look.

Oh, th-that must be
my mother.

She's an, uh, "inavlid... "
an invalid.

Uh, it's practically
like living alone.

Oh, I see.

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 say, for the sake of argument,
she wanted you to gallantly protect her.

You'd know
you were being used.

- You wouldn't be made a fool of.
- I'm not a fool.

And I'm not capable of being fooled,
not even by a woman.

- 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.

Then your mother met her.
Could I talk to your mother?

No. As I told you,
she's confined.

Just for a few minutes. There might be
some hint that you missed out on.

Sick old women
are usually pretty sharp.

- I wouldn't disturb her.
- Mr Arbogast, I-I think I've...

- I think I've talked to you all I want.
- Yes, but just for...

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.

All right.
Thanks, anyway.

Hello, Loomis.
This is Arbogast. Is Lila there?

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 out
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 she just spent the night...

left the next day
and that was it.

Mmm.
Um, 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 ya,
I don't feel entirely satisfied, uh...

See, this boy
had a sick old mother.

I think she saw Marion
and talked to her.

No. No, unf ortunately,
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.

Uh, I think our friend Sam Loomis
didn't know that Marion was here.

All right. See ya
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.

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 wise.
- Patience doesn't run in my family.

- I'm going out there.
- Arbogast said...

An hour, or less.

- Well, I'm going.

You'll never find it.

- Stay here.
- Why can't I go?

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!

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
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.
- Let me get my coat.

Good evening.

Well, I... 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.

We got a call from this
detective... he'd traced her...

to that motel
on the old highway.

That must be
the Bates Motel.

He called to say he was going
to question Mrs Bates.

Norman took a wife?

No, I-I don't think so.
An old woman. His mother.

That was early this evening. We
haven't seen or heard from him since.

Now, your sister's
missing how long?

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?

She stole some money.

A lot?

Forty thousand dollars.

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?

He said Marion was there
for one night, then she left.

- With the $40,000?
- He didn't say anything...

about the money.

It isn't important
what he said, is it?

He was supposed to come 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.

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 goin'...

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.

Call Norman and let him
say what happened.

At this hour?

He was out when I was there a while ago.
If he's back, he probably isn't in bed.

He wasn't out; he just wasn't answerin' 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 ten years ago.

Please. Call.

Florrie, the sheriff wants you
to connect him with the Bates Motel.

Norman?
Sheriff Chambers.

Ye... I 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.

- A private detective, name of...
- Arbogast.

Arbogast.

And after he left?

No, that's...
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 Greenlawn Cemetery
for the past ten years.

I helped Norman pick out the dress
she was buried in. Periwinkle blue.

'Tain'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 helpin' of
the same stuff herself.

Strychnine.
Ugly way to die.

Norman found them
dead together.

In bed.

You mean that old woman I saw sittin'
in the window 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 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 Greenlawn Cemetery?

Now, Mother, um...
I- 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.

Ha! 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 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.

Wonderful sermon today.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

We thought we'd drive out
to that motel with you.

- He's already been.
- Went out bef ore service.

- Did you two have breakfast?
- Didn't find anything?

Nothing. Let's
clear the way here.

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. That boy's alone there.

- No mother?
- You must have seen an illusion, Sam.

I know you're not
the seein'- illusions type...

but no woman was there and I don't
believe in ghosts, so there it is.

I still feel
there's something...

Can see you do. I'm sorry I couldn't
make you feel better.

Come to my office this afternoon and
report a missing person and a theft.

The sooner you drop this
in the lap of the law...

that's the sooner you stand a chance
of your sister bein' picked up.

How 'bout that?

- I don't know.
- It's Sunday.

Come 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.

- You want me to drop you at the hotel...
- 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
to San Francisco...

but we don't like the look
of that sky.

Looks like a bad day coming,
doesn't it?

- I'll take you to cabin ten.
- Better sign in first, hadn't we?

That's not necessary.

My boss is paying for this trip
and, uh, well, it's 90%business.

He wants practically
notarized 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.
- Ten dollars.

That receipt.

I'll go on ahead.

All right, there's
your receipt. 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?
Forty thousand dollars?

How could we prove that...

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!
- Huh? 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.

Oh. Doesn't that prove
he found out about the money?

Do we simply ask him
where he's hidden it?

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 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?
- Mm-hmm.

Drive me crazy.

I think that would be a rather
extreme reaction, don't you?

Just an expression. What I meant was,
uh, I'd do 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.
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?

Where will you get the money to do that?
Or do you already have it socked away?

- Shut up!
- A lot of it. Forty thousand dollars.

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, it's...

Norman 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.

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.

- But my sister is...
- Yes.

Yes, I'm sorry.
The private investigator too.

If you drag that swamp somewhere in
the vicinity of the motel, you'll...

Uh, have you any unsolved
missing persons cases on your books?

- Yes, two.
- Young girls?

- Did he confess to...
- Like I said...

the "mother. "

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
ten years...

to the time when Norman murdered
his mother and her lover.

He was already dangerously disturbed,
had been 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.

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.

Theref ore, 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.

Uh, not exactly.

A man who dresses in women's clothing
in order to achieve a sexual change...

or satisf action,
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 to close...

when danger or desire
threatened that illusion...

he dressed 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, uh, 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 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. "