All language subtitles for Psycho [1960] (UNCUT)Psycho [1960] (UNCUT)Psycho [1960] (UNCUT)

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.

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 tranquilizers.

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...

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?

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 check 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.
I 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 license?

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.

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 license 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 anymore
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 favor?
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 apologize
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 parlor 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 cry.

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 anymore.

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.

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 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 anymore, 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.

- 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 anymore.

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.

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.

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
picturization 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 parlor 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? Check?
- 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?
- Oh. 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.

- Just for a moment.
- Mr. Arbogast...

- I wouldn't disturb her.
- I think I've...

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.

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!

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?

She stole some money.

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.

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
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.

$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?

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 am 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.

- 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...

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."