Whirlpool Page #3

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And he'll get it. He'll keep

after you till he has what he wants.

He's lived off women all his life.

That's contemptible! Don't ever talk

to me like this about David Korvo!

Cirls! Battling over David

in my bedroom!

It's the most dramatic thing

that ever happened in it!

Three days and three nights

without you.

That's a great sacrifice to

make for psychiatry.

Would you like me to go along?

I love San Francisco!

It would bore you to death,

afternoon and evening sessions.

I wouldn't go myself if I weren't

slated for the main discussion.

Of course you must go. I'll be

lonely, but very proud of you.

Oh, darling, I'm all greasy!

A minor handicap.

Did you have a good time

at the party?

- Yes, very nice.

- I'm glad.

- Who was there?

- Oh, the usual people.

The greatest kick I get

when we go to a party together

is when people stare at you and say

"Who is that lovely girl?"

"That's Dr Sutton's wife.

She's very devoted to him."

My head swells up like a balloon.

Thanks, darling.

Oh, I'm terribly sleepy.

What time is it?

Just eleven.

I'm sorry, but I've got to sleep.

I'll put out the light in a minute.

Well...

my sleeping beauty.

Take off your robe and slippers.

Hey!

Hello, Daisy.

I'm expecting a Mrs Sutton.

Tell the desk to send her right up.

And don't put through any calls

until I let you know. Thank you.

(Phone rings)

Now, Daisy, I told you

I didn't want to be disturbed.

Palm Springs?

All right, put her through.

Oh, Teri! I was wondering who could

be in Palm Springs on a Wednesday.

I told you I'd have

the money for you by the first.

You're not going to exercise your new

martyr complex and ruin both of us.

You're going to pay every dollar

you owe to your loving daughter

and live on as an honest woman.

My dear old ex-adored,

it's none of your stupid business

just where I get the money, or how.

Yes, granted, I'm an oily rascal.

Yes, I agree, a liar, a swindler

and... What was that last one?

Oh, yes, without any conscience.

You're in top form today, Teri.

Almost makes me lonesome

for your faded charms.

No, I won't have it for you tomorrow.

I told you it would take a week.

Oh, and watch yourself, my dear.

Mars and the minor planets

are in your 7th house until the 21st.

That may mean serious trouble

for you unless you're very careful.

Have fun.

- Is Mr Korvo in?

- Mrs Sutton?

- Yes.

- Please go right up. Apartment 9B.

- Where's the house telephone?

- Over there, but he's expecting you.

Thank you.

Apartment 9B, please.

(Phone rings)

Hello? Oh, my dear Ann,

where are you?

You're very prompt, that's a virtue

in a patient. Please come up, 9B.

What?

My dear Ann, you're being absurd.

I always see my patients

in my apartment.

But it's my office.

Very well, I...

I bow to your abysmal scruples.

Hello, my dear. Your conduct is a bit

disturbing to a man of integrity.

I'm sorry to disturb you.

I do not surround my work

with the impressive gadgets

favoured by your husband,

but my ethics do not include

practising medicine in a lobby.

Isn't there a bar or grill open?

Forgive me. It's not me

you're afraid of, but yourself.

Relax. Let's go in here,

and you'll be safe...

from any unwifely impulses.

You're a bit smug.

And rather stupid, Mr Korvo.

Indignation in a patient

is always a sign of progress.

(? Light jazz)

However, as your doctor, may I point

out the illogic of your behaviour?

How much better to sit, unnoticed,

in my apartment

than to squat here

and be seen by everybody

holding an alcoholic rendezvous

with a man.

You make me feel young.

I haven't heard that seductive line

...since my college days.

- Were they happy days?

- Yes.

- Happier than now?

I know you, Ann,

better than you know yourself.

You're unhappy. You're miserable.

You're locked in a characterisation,

"the serene and devoted wife".

That play-acting is destroying you.

You make me ashamed to be here.

Why?

Because I should have gone

to my husband, not to you.

Your husband can't cure you, Ann.

He's the one who made you sick.

That's nonsense.

Don't be afraid of what you want.

It's better than stealing.

Better than exploding with neuroses.

You misunderstand me.

I'm not looking for a love affair.

Vincent.

- Afraid of being plied with liquor?

- I'll have a martini.

- Two martinis, Vincent.

- Yes, Mr Korvo.

- Did you sleep last night?

- Yes.

Nine hours. I woke up this morning

absolutely a new woman.

As if nothing was wrong with me.

I should think that would inspire

a little trust toward your doctor.

- May I be frank?

- Please.

I heard things about you yesterday

which may or may not be true...

From Mrs Randolph,

who's transferred her hallucinations

to your husband's office.

Hardly a sound source of information.

Possibly not. But I'm grown-up enough

to know your technique.

You know how to make a woman

feel close and dependent on you.

I can release you from a torture

chamber called Mrs William Sutton.

I'm afraid you're wasting your time.

Sit down, please.

I understand you completely.

You adore your husband and want me

only as a man who can make you sleep,

rather than... wake you up.

Yes. And I'll pay you.

50 dollars for each treatment.

And I'll come every day.

Where do you want your treatments?

Here in a bar-room?

Why not?

Teri Randolph can be...

quite a nuisance.

Will you give me her address?

I feel awful about the way I talked

to her. I should write her a note.

Call her up. Right now.

Tell her you intend to use me

only as a doctor,

at a distance of four paces.

- What's her telephone number?

- The switchboard girl will get her.

Daisy!

Please, will you get me

Mrs Theresa Randolph on the phone?

Vincent!

Vincent, there was a small accident.

Bring us two more martinis, will you?

Yes, sure, Mr Korvo, right away.

- Hurry it up, will you, Vincent?

- Yes, sir.

Mrs Randolph doesn't answer.

Shall I try later?

Yes, please.

I'll be in the bar with Mr Korvo.

- Well?

- She wasn't home.

Oh, too bad.

Now, finish your drink.

Relax, and we'll begin our treatment.

(Clock chimes)

(Buzzer)

(Lock clicks)

(Thud)

Cive me that.

Dead?

Yeah.

Turn off the burglar alarm.

I'll call the police.

Operator? Police department, please.

This is your statement, Mrs Sutton.

If there's anything you don't

agree with, please mention it.

"Formal statement given by

Ann Sutton, resident of Westwood,

witnessed by Lieutenant James Colton,

Sergeant Robert Jeffreys

and Dr Peter Duval, psychiatrist,

the Los Angeles Police Station,

City Hall, 11.20pm, June 3rd, 1949."

"Question:

What is your name, please?"

"Answer:
Mrs William Sutton."

"Question:
Where do you live?

Answer:
725 Willow Drive."

"Question:
What time did you

leave your house this evening?"

"Answer:
I don't remember."

"Question:
Why did you go

to Mrs Theresa Randolph's house?"

"Answer:
I don't know."

"Mrs Sutton, will you tell us how you

got into the home of Mrs Randolph?"

"Answer:
I don't remember."

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