Vertigo Page #3

SCOTTIE:

How long have you been back?

ELSTER:

Almost a year.

SCOTTIE:

And you like it.

ELSTER:

San Francisco's changed. The things

a that spell San Francisco to me are

disappearing fast.

Scottie smiles at the old prints on the wall.

SCOTTIE:

Like all this.

ELSTER:

(Nodding)

I'd like to have lived here then.

The color and excitement... the

power... the freedom.

Though he does not stress the word, the way be lingers softly

on the word "Freedom" makes Scottie look over at him again.

Elster looks up and smiles companionably.

ELSTER:

Shouldn't you be sitting down?

SCOTTIE:

No, I'm all right.

ELSTER:

I was sorry to read about that thing

in the papers.

(No answer)

And you've quit the force.

(Scottie nods)

A permanent physical disability?

SCOTTIE:

No, Acrophobia isn't a crippling

thing. It just means I can't climb

steep stairs or go to high places,

like the bar at the Top-of-the-Mark.

But --

(Shrugs and smiles)

-- there are plenty of street-level

bars In this town.

Elster considers the top of his desk for a moment, then looks

up.

ELSTER:

Would you like a drink now?

SCOTTIE:

No... no, thanks. A bit early in the

day for spirits.

(Pause)

Well, I guess that about covers

everything, doesn't it? I never

married; I don't see much of the

"old college gang"; I'm a retired

detective -- and you're in the

shipbuilding business.

(Pause)

What's on your mind, Gavin?

A moment, then Elster rises from the desk casually, wanders

across the room, looks out the window, gets out a handkerchief

and blows his nose prosaically, finally turns and regards

Scottie coolly and directly for a long moment.

ELSTER:

I asked you to come up here, Scottie,

knowing that you had quit detective

works, but I wondered whether you

would go back on the job -- as a

special favor to me.

Scottie looks at him questioningly.

ELSTER:

I want you to follow my wife.

Scottie does not change expression, and yet one can sense

the feeling of anti-climax within him, and the almost

imperceptible small cynical smile deep behind his eyes.

ELSTER:

Not what you think. We're very happily

married.

SCOTTIE:

Then?

ELSTER:

I'm afraid some harm may come to

her.

SCOTTIE:

From whom?

ELSTER:

Someone dead.

Scottie waits.

ELSTER:

Scottie, do you believe that someone

out of the past, someone dead, can

enter and take possession of a living

being?

SCOTTIE:

No.

ELSTER:

If I told you I believe that his

happened to my wife, what would you

say?

SCOTTIE:

I'd say you'd better take her to the

nearest psychiatrist, psychologist,

neurologist, psychoanalyst, or plain

family doctor. And have him check

you both.

ELSTER:

(Defeated)

Then you're of no use to me. I'm

sorry I wasted your time. Thank you

for coming in, Scottie.

Scottie rises to go, awkwardly, puzzled, a bit apologetic.

SCOTTIE:

I didn't mean to be that rough.

ELSTER:

No, it sounds idiotic, I know. And

you're still the hard-headed Scot,

aren't you? Always were. Do you think

I'm making it up?

SCOTTIE:

No.

ELSTER:

I'm not making it up. I wouldn't

know how. She'll be talking to me

about something, nothing at all, and

suddenly the words fade into silence

and a cloud comes into her eyes and

they go blank... and she is somewhere

else, away from me... someone I don't

know. I call to her and she doesn't

hear. And then with a long sigh she

is back, and looks at me brightly,

and doesn't know she's been away...

can't tell me where... or why...

SCOTTIE:

How often does this happen?

ELSTER:

More and more in the past few weeks.

And she wanders. God knows where she

wanders. I followed her one day.

SCOTTIE:

Where'd she go?

Elster almost ignores the question as he looks back to the

day.

ELSTER:

Watched her come out of the apartment,

someone I didn't know... walking in

a different way... holding her head

in a way I didn't know; and get into

her car, and drive out to...

(He smiles grimly)

Golden Gate Park. Five miles. She

sat on a bench at the edge of the

lake and stared across the water to

the old pillars that stand an the

far shore, the Portals of the Past.

Sat there a long time, not moving...

and I had to leave, to got to the

office. That evening, when I came

home, I asked what she'd done all

day. She said she'd driven to Golden

Gate Park and sat by the lake. That's

all.

SCOTTIE:

Well?

ELSTER:

The speedometer of her car showed

she had driven 94 miles that day.

Where did she go?

(Pause)

I have to know, Scottie. Where she

goes and what she does, before I got

involved with doctors.

SCOTTIE:

Have you talked to the doctors at

all?

ELSTER:

Yes, but carefully. I'd want to know

more before committing her to that

kind of care.

(Anxiously)

Scottie --

SCOTTIE:

(Quickly)

I can get you a firm of private eyes

to follow her for you. They're

dependable, good boys --

ELSTER:

(Breaking in)

I want you.

SCOTTIE:

It's not my line.

ELSTER:

Scottie, I need a friend! Someone I

can trust! I'm in a panic about this!

Long pause.

SCOTTIE:

How can I see her, to know her?

ELSTER:

We're going to an opening at the

opera tonight. We'll dine at Ernie's

first. Which is easier?

SCOTTIE:

Ernie's.

ELSTER:

All right.

(Pause)

You won't know what to look for at

first, Scottie. Even I, who know her

so well, cannot tell, sometimes,

when the change has begun. She looks

so lovely and normal...

The last part of this speech carries through the dissolve.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. ERNIE'S RESTAURANT - (NIGHT)

We are in the upstairs room that, in mood and decor, takes

us back to Bonanza Days. This is the way San Francisco was.

Scottie is at the bar, turned a little so that he faces into

the dining room, and as he drinks his eyes search the room

slowly, carefully.

The CAMERA SEARCHES with him, passing over the many well-

dressed women, until it comes to rest on a table for two

dressed against the far wall. Gavin Elster is seated there,

dining with his wife. Scottie cannot get a clear look at

her. She is turned slightly away from him, and when she does

turn her head in his direction there always seems to be a

waiter passing to block the view. And during all of this we

hear Elster's voice, continuing from the previous scene.

ELSTER'S VOICE

But I realize now that the deep change

began on the first day I brought her

to San Francisco. You know what San

Francisco does to people who have

never seen it before. All of it

happened to Madeleine, but with such

an intensity as to be almost

frightening. She was like a child

came home. Everything about the city

excited her:
she had to walk all the

hills, explore the edge of the ocean,

see all the old houses and wander

the old streets:
and when she came

upon something unchanged, something

that was as it had been, her delight

was so strong so fiercely possessive!

These things were hers. And yet she

had never been here before. She had

been born and raised in the East. I

liked it at first, of course. I love

this place; I wanted my bride to

love it. But then it began to make

me uneasy. Her delight was too

strong; her excitement was too

intense, it never faded; her laugh

was too loud, her eyes sparkled too

brightly; there was something feverish

about the way she embraced the city.

She possessed it. And then one day

she changed again... and a great

sigh settled on her, and the cloud

came into her eyes...

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