Casablanca Page #3

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At this moment UGARTE, a small, thin man with a nervous air,

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tries to squeeze through the doorway blocked by the German.

If he were an American, Ugarte would look like a tout.

He gets through and passes Rick.

UGARTE:

Uh, excuse me, please. Hello,

Rick.

RICK:

(softly)

Hello Ugarte.

Rick looks at the German calmly, takes the card out of his

hand, and tears it up.

RICK:

Your cash is good at the bar.

GERMAN:

What ! Do you know who I am?

RICK:

I do . You ' re lucky the bar ' s open

to you.

GERMAN:

This is outrageous. I shall report

it to the Angriff !

The German storms off, tossing the pieces of his card into

the air behind him.

Rick meets Ugarte on his way back to his table.

UGARTE:

(fawning)

Huh. You know, Rick, watching you

just now with the Deutsches Bank,

one would think you'd been doing

this all your life.

RICK:

(stiffening)

Well, what makes you think I

haven't?

UGARTE:

(vaguely)

Oh, nothing. But when you first

came to Casablanca, I thought --

RICK:

(coldly)

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-- You thought what?

Fearing to offend Rick, Ugarte laughs.

UGARTE:

What right do I have to think?

Ugarte pulls out a chair at Rick's table.

UGARTE:

May I? Too bad about those two

German couriers, wasn't it?

RICK:

(indifferently)

They got a lucky break. Yesterday

they were just two German clerks.

Today they're the 'Honored Dead'.

UGARTE:

You are a very cynical person, Rick,

if you'll forgive me for saying so.

Ugarte sits down.

RICK:

(shortly)

I forgive you.

A waiter comes up to the table with a tray of drinks. He

places one before Ugarte.

UGARTE:

Thank you.

(to Rick)

Will you have a drink with me please?

RICK:

No.

UGARTE:

I forgot. You never drink with...

(to waiter)

I'll have another, please.

(to Rick, sadly)

You despise me, don't you?

RICK:

(indifferently)

If I gave you any thought, I probably

would.

UGARTE:

But why? Oh, you object to the kind

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of business I do, huh? But think of

all those poor refugees who must rot

in this place if I didn't help them.

That's not so bad. Through ways of

my own I provide them with exit

visas .

RICK:

For a price, Ugarte, for a price.

UGARTE:

But think of all the poor devils who

cannot meet Renault's price. I get

it for them for half. Is that so

parasitic?

RICK:

I don't mind a parasite. I object

to a cut-rate one.

UGARTE:

Well, Rick, after tonight I'll be

through with the whole business, and

I am leaving finally this Casablanca.

RICK:

Who did you bribe for your visa?

Renault or yourself?

UGARTE:

(ironically)

Myself. I found myself much more

reasonable .

He takes an envelope from his pocket and lays it on the table.

UGARTE:

Look, Rick, do you know what this

is? Something that even you have

never seen. Letters of transit

signed by General de Gaulle. Cannot

be rescinded, not even questioned.

Rick appears ready to take them form Ugarte.

UGARTE:

One moment. Tonight I'll be selling

those for more money than even I have

ever dreamed of, and then, addio

Casablanca! You know, Rick, I have

many friends in Casablanca, but

somehow, just because you despise me

you're the only one I trust. Will

you keep these for me? Please.

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RICK:

For how long?

UGARTE:

Perhaps an hour, perhaps a little

longer .

RICK:

I don't want them here overnight.

UGARTE:

Don't be afraid of that. Please

keep them for me. Thank you. I

knew I could trust you.

Rick takes them. Ugarte leaves the table just as the waiter

comes up.

UGARTE:

Oh, waiter. I'll be expecting some

people. If anybody asks for me,

I'll be right here.

WAITER:

Yes, Monsieur.

The waiter leaves. Ugarte turns to Rick.

UGARTE:

Rick, I hope you are more impressed

with me now, huh? If you'll forgive

me, I'll share my good luck with

your roulette wheel.

He starts across the floor.

RICK:

Just a moment .

Ugarte stops as Rick comes up to him.

RICK:

Yeah, I heard a rumor that those

German couriers were carrying

letters of transit.

Ugarte hesitates for a moment.

UGARTE:

Huh? I heard that rumor, too. Poor

devils .

Rick looks at Ugarte steadily.

16.

RICK:

(slowly)

Yes, you're right, Ugarte. I am a

little more impressed with you.

Rick leaves the gambling room and goes into the main room.

CUT TO:

INT. RICK'S CAFE - MAIN ROOM - NIGHT

Rick makes his way over to Sam, who plays and sings the

"Knock Wood" number, accompanied by the orchestra. The

cafe is in semi-darkness. The spotlight is on Sam, and

every time the orchestra comes in on the "Knock Wood"

business, the spotlight swings over to the orchestra.

During one of the periods when the spotlight is on the

orchestra, Rick slips the letters of transit into the piano.

FERRARI, owner of the Blue Parrot, a competing night

spot, comes into the cafe, sits down, and watches Sam.

Then he sees Rick and they smile at each other. At the

end of the number Ferrari goes to the bar to speak to Rick.

FERRARI:

Hello, Rick.

RICK:

Hello, Ferrari. How's business at

the Blue Parrot?

FERRARI:

Fine, but I would like to buy your

cafe .

RICK:

It's not for sale.

FERRARI:

You haven't heard my offer.

RICK:

It's not for sale at any price.

FERRARI:

What do you want for Sam?

RICK:

I don't buy or sell human beings.

FERRARI:

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That's too bad. That's Casablanca's

leading commodity. In refugees

alone we could make a fortune if you

would work with me through the black

market .

RICK:

Suppose you run your business and

let me run mine.

FERRARI:

Suppose we ask Sam. Maybe he'd like

to make a change.

RICK:

Suppose we do.

FERRARI:

My dear Rick, when will you realize

that in this world today isolationism

is no longer a practical policy?

Rick and Ferrari walk over to the piano.

RICK:

Sam, Ferrari wants you to work for

him at the Blue Parrot.

SAM:

I like it fine here.

RICK:

He'll double what I pay you.

SAM:

Yeah, but I ain't got time to spend

the money I make here.

RICK:

Sorry .

Apparently satisfied, Ferrari walks away.

Back at the bar, YVONNE, an attractive young French woman,

sits on a stool drinking brandy.

Sacha, who looks at her with lovesick eyes, fills her

tumbler .

SACHA:

The boss's private stock. Because,

Yvonne, I loff you.

YVONNE:

(morosely)

Oh, shut up.

SACHA:

(fondly)

All right, all right. For you,

Yvonne, I shot opp, because, Yvonne,

I loff you. Uh oh.

Rick saunters over and leans on the bar, next to Yvonne.

He pays no attention to her. She looks at him bitterly,

without saying a word.

SACHA:

Oh, Monsieur Rick, Monsieur Rick.

Some Germans, boom, boom, boom,

boom, gave this check. Is it all

right?

Rick looks the check over and tears it up. Yvonne has

never taken her eyes off Rick.

YVONNE:

Where were you last night?

RICK:

That's so long ago, I don't remember.

YVONNE:

Will I see you tonight?

RICK:

(matt er-of-f act ly)

I never make plans that far ahead.

Yvonne turns, looks at Sacha, and extends her glass to him.

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