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Lost Command CD2

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Stay with Berman, I'll cover|the mouthpiece. You got dimes?
Sometimes it's best|to follow the piece that doesn't fit.
Chuck Newty wouldn't do anything|he couldn't charge $30 an hour for,
so he wouldn't shadow Berman|without a client.
You can follow the action,|which gets you good pictures.
You can follow your instincts,|which'll probably get you in trouble.
Or you can follow the money,
which nine times out of ten|will get you closer to the truth.
Earl Rawley's trademark|was on Newty's matchbook,
Lillian Bodine's lighter|and half the oil wells in LA.
Who else could afford to keep|a lawyer's meter running?
In 1792, a certain|Jose Longuinez Martinez,
while travelling through|the Pueblo de Los Angeles,
found a great lake of pitch,
with many pools in which blisters|were continually rising and falling.
In hot weather, animals looking for|water were seen sinking into the tar.
Their cries|would attract predators.
We pulled a million specimens|from two holes in the ground.
Animal after animal, literally dying|to eat another dying animal.
The greatest record|of life on earth is what it is,
all caught in little seeps from|the greatest lake of oil on earth.
22 miles long, 46 miles wide,|the entire LA basin,
where we work and live today.|Ladies, this way.
- How many jobs you got, Mr Otley?|- Call me Ty.
- Lovely speech you gave the ladies.|- Thank you.
LA, the greatest|lake of oil on earth there is.
Could we continue this discussion|some other time?
My secretary said|you called me repeatedly, Ty.
Said you made it sound like|something of an emergency.
After the explosion,|I was concerned.
That's very thoughtful of you,|Tyrone. Now...
- Who got to you?|- Who got to me?
- Was it Berman?|- Got to me about what?
Or was it somebody|from Rawley Petroleum?
Brother... Berman... Levine...
Some woman, blonde.
This the clearest you got?
- Well, yeah.|- Did you follow her?
What for?|You told me to follow Berman.
Berman had a two o'clock appointment|at his lawyer's.
You don't follow somebody|when you know where they're going.
But you said stay with Berman.
- Who the fuck is this woman?|- Who is that woman?
Laura Teel.|You remember her, don't you?
Rubber gloves, you bet.|There he goes. She's alone now.
Better hurry up and get in there.
Miss Teel, how nice to see you.
What are you doing here?
- Don't tell me I'm being watched.|- No, Mrs Berman.
Your husband has all the matrimonial|information he needs to go to court.
- Yes. If only he wanted a divorce.|- He doesn't?
- You've been talking to Lillian.|- I have?
You have.
Lillian loves angora.|You make a big enough mess...
and you can't be ignored.
What did she call me?|Aside from frigid and conniving?
- A killer.|- Killer?
I enticed her husband into bed
so my husband could shoot him|in a fit of jealous rage?
- That's right.|- And what's the rest of the plan?
That's it. You slept with the man|so he could be legally murdered,
the entire subdivision|belongs to you and your husband.
Jake doesn't want Mark's money.
I'm sure he'll see Lillian gets|whatever her husband's entitled to.
- All she wants is the recording.|- I find that difficult to believe.
Look, you may have a worldly wise|veneer but I got ties older than you.
Mrs Bodine thinks your husband|ought to be in jail,
that the recording proves|your husband's a murderer.
If she's right, I wanna tell|the police before they tell me.
I am sure my husband did what he did|because he loves me.
And suppose you're wrong, I'm wrong.
Suppose he didn't kill|for love or money? Now what?
That's not possible.|There's got to be a reason.
I think the reason|is on that wire recording.
I don't know|what that possibly could be.
Would it surprise you to know your|husband was seeing another woman?
- Is he?|- Would it surprise you?
No. Not necessarily. No.
In other words,|he loves you enough to kill somebody,
but you're not surprised|that he's fooling around?
- What will a jury think of that?|- Who is this woman?
Mrs Berman, wouldn't you like to know|one way or the other?
If there's a relationship,|I'd like to know about it, yes.
Then you'll tell me|what I want to know?
What's that?
Exactly what Bodine|was asking you on the wire.
I'll tell you what I remember.|It may not be what you need to know.
- Who is it?|- It's the colourist.
- Come back a little later, please.|- Fine.
Mr Gittes, I want to remind you|that you have yet to show me anything
that proves my husband|deliberately did anything to anyone.
- And if I can prove otherwise?|- Then we'll talk later.
After all, first things first.
Mr Gittes, it was two and a half|years ago these people were here.
I have very little recollection|of the transaction,
and these photographs|are not going to refresh my memory.
I don't wish to talk about|these people.
Can you tell me this much?
Why wouldn't Miss Mulwray quitclaim|the deed to Mr Berman directly?
Mr Gittes, I am a notary public,|not a mind-reader.
If that's the way they want it,|that's the way I do it.
This deed doesn't even mention|mineral rights.
Any exception to title rights will be|found in some other agreement.
- And if there is no other agreement?|- Then the original owner retains
all rights not specifically granted.
Dolores, would you please|show Mr Gittes out?
He's awful touchy.
How did it happen? You don't know?
Come on. You can tell me.
- That's how it happened. He told.|- What?
About three weeks ago,|just after I came to work here,
somebody else was in,|asking about these people.
And one of those people came back|and broke his jaw.
Him, right?|All right. Forget about him.
What about the guy who was asking?|Can you remember what he looked like?
I'll bet he asked you out.
No. He's married.
Not any more. Thank you.
Good of Mr Rawley to see me|on such short notice.
He's looking forward to it.|He's just around the point.
- Do you like shrimp?|- Sure do.
We've got some good ones.
I prefer matches, thank you.|I love the smell of sulphur.
Chuck here said you want|to talk to me about Mattie.
Not exactly. I was hoping|you could help me with Lillian.
That's up to Chuck|and my wife Mattie.
- That's really none of my business.|- None of your business?
In a sense,|when you're in the oil business,
- you're in everybody's business.|- That's right.
Is that why you broke into my office
and why you got Jake Berman|under surveillance?
- Mr Gittes, I don't...|- Excuse us a little bit. Thank you.
Before Mark got killed, he became|aware of Berman's other associates.
He was concerned that he might have|a silent partner in this Mr Nice.
Mark was frightened. He came to me|for help, purely as a friend.
- Frightened of Berman and Mr Nice.|- Yes, indeed.
Not too frightened to sleep|with Berman's wife.
Tell you what we'll do, John.
You tell me what the hell|you think's going on,
I'll tell you|if I think you're right.
Mr Rawley, I think you think there's|oil under the B & B subdivision,
and you're trying to get to|whoever has the mineral rights.
All I'd find under that subdivision|is a lot of hot air and gas.
You want to know why?|Look up and down the coast.
Summerland, Huntington Beach, Bolsa|Chica - that's where the oil is.
That's where it's juicy, out there.|It ain't 6,000 feet inland,
down through 2,000 extra feet|of cretaceous granite.
Have I answered all your questions?
There's one thing about Los Angeles
that makes it different|than most places, John,
and that's two things.|You got a desert with oil under it,
and, second, you got a lot|of water around it.
Hollis Mulwray and Noah Cross|moved the water onto this desert,
and we have to move people|the same way they moved the water.
Without my oil, you got no cars.
Without cars,|you got no road construction,
no sidewalks, no city lights, no gas|stations, no automotive service,
and no Berman subdivision out in the|tules because nobody can get there.
Then Mr Berman's out of business|before he even gets in.
The name of the game is oil, John.
That don't go here, Oren.|Take it up to hill 36.
Back to 36!
What's that for?
- Did you ever breed any horses?|- Can't say that I have, no.
It's like helping a stallion|mount a mare.
Whipstocking is something you do
to coax the drilling bit|in the right direction.
After you've gone|to all that trouble,
you wouldn't want your big fella|to miss what he was aiming at.
I know what your time's worth, John,|and I'll take care of you.
Just don't let me down.
Old Cactus Earl probably hoodwinked|quite a few city boys
with his Will Rogers routine,
but I knew he wasn't talking about|two horses on their honeymoon.
Whatever Rawley was mounting,|it wasn't a mare.
I just wanted to make sure|it wasn't me, either, pardner.
- Do you want to meet or not?|- Anywhere you say.
Green Parrot Bar and Grill|on Cahuenga, any time after ten.
- Are you all right, honey?|- Honey? What did you say?
Good evening. May I help you?
- No. I'd like to sit at the bar.|- Fine.
- Can I help you, sir?|- Johnny Walker Black, straight up.
- Soda back?|- Yeah, thanks.
Mr Gittes.|I'm so glad you could make it.
Tyrone, what's on your mind?
A Go-Devil underground camera tells|which direction you're drilling.
- Take it easy, Ty.|- This is the photo of the compass.
It'll prove Rawley's drilling east|toward the Berman subdivision,
not west, out toward the ocean.
Double Scotch, soda back.
- We're talking about oil here, Ty?|- Obviously.
Mr Rawley believes there's oil|under the subdivision.
He's endangering lives, drilling|with all the seismic activity.
He's whipstocking.|Someone has got to stop him!
I can't do that, Ty. Nobody can.
Guys like Rawley don't get arrested,|they get streets named after them.
In this situation,|it's best to leave it alone.
Rawley stealing from Berman is the|big thief stealing from the little.
Who are we to quarrel?
- Did you bring my treat?|- What the fuck for?
Then why did you come here?
- What are you doing here?|- I own it. What's your excuse?
- I got a date.|- Be a gentleman and excuse yourself.
Come on, nudnik.
Look around.|What do you see? Strictly class.
Polite. Big tippers.|And they're nice to the help.
If the cops didn't keep|bumping up the payoff,
this would be|the best business I got.
What business you got|with Jake Berman?
- He's 100 per cent legitimate.|- What do you call legitimate?
Take off his jacket.
I can tell you|what I don't consider legitimate.
- Must be a short list.|- Blackmail.
- What are you talking about?|- It's a form of mental torture.
It's the worst.|Physical torture? It's not so bad.
There's only so much you can take|and then eventually, you die.
It's over. But mental torture?|That's real aggravation.
It goes on and on and on.|You got the wire recording.
Why are you withholding evidence|from your own client
if you're not a blackmailer?|Answer that, you putz.
- Boss, I think we're in trouble.|- What are you talking about?
Smile at the birdies, ladies.
Now gather your hats and your purses.|The vans are in the back.
Nice and orderly. That's it.
I'm telling you, Sergeant,|I just stopped in for a quick drink.
You were consorting with a hoodlum|under grand jury investigation,
- known to be Jake Berman's friend?|- So what?
So either you were doing business|with Mickey, or...
Or what?
We got a vice officer|who swears you approached him
and fondled his privates|in the men's room.
How was it?
You'll get a chance to tell everybody|at the state board.
Either that, or prove you're not|withholding evidence.
- How will I do that?|- Let us hear the wire recording.
Then you'll decide if it's evidence|that I'm withholding?
Get your court order.|It's private property.
How much are you paid to suppress it?
Bribery. Conspiracy.|Conspiracy to commit murder.
Maybe not bribery any more.|Maybe he's back to blackmail.
- What are you talking about, Loach?|- I'm talking about incest.
Incest, like when a father bangs his|daughter, like with dogs and squid.
Extorting money from the Mulwrays|to keep his mouth shut.
Loach, I don't recall|anything like that.
All I recall is that your father|shot an innocent woman
- while their little girl watched.|- And what a fine shot it was.
It was a long time ago.
Besides, I wouldn't extort a nickel|from my worst enemy.
That's where I draw the line.
I'll tell you, Jake.
I knew a whore once. For the right|money, she'd piss in a guy's face.
But she wouldn't shit on his chest.|That's where she drew the line.
Junior, all I can say is,
I hope she wasn't too much|of a disappointment to you.
Get back! Get back! Get back or|this motherfucking son of a bitch...
...will suck on this until he dies!
Now, suck it! Suck it!
- OK.|- Suck it.
You pissed your pants, Junior.|Maybe you need a change.
You're off this case|and suspended for 30 days. And you!
When I get through with you, you'll|wish Loach was back on the case.
Book Mr Gittes. Let him make bail.|Get him out of here.
- Get him out of here!|- Get your hands off me!
Get over there and sit down.|Sit down.
Some linen supply guys,|they're making a delivery.
Right outside your door.|They're making... delivery.
- Yeah, Gladys?|- It's Mr Weinberger.
- He says it's urgent.|- I'll take it.
- Hello, Cotton.|- I'm here with Flynn.
- Give him my best.|- Jake says hello.
- Escobar got his court order.|- When?
Just now. If you don't produce that|wire recording, you're going to jail.
At least let me have it, Jake.|Let me worry about it.
Yeah. I'd better|get back to you, Cotton.
Jake, didn't you hear?|Escobar's got his court order.
- What did they deliver?|- Escobar's gonna be here any minute.
The guys from Bay City Linen.|What were they delivering?
It was a chair, wasn't it?
I think so.|A chair and some towels.
Kitty Berman|had said she wouldn't believe
her husband did anything wrong|until I delivered proof.
She was gonna get|what she asked for.
The kind of proof she could sit on.
I don't expect you to remember|where this came from.
The police report said the weapon was|a.38 Smith & Wesson police special,
with a 2-inch barrel, like this.
The chair was delivered to your room|at the Bird of Paradise Motel
40 minutes before you arrived|by Bay City Linen,
right out of the back|of one of Mickey's trucks.
Well, Mrs Berman? Mrs Berman?
Watch it!
- Kitty?|- Get away from me.
- Kitty.|- Stay away.
I got a new deal for you.
When you want to talk, pick a spot|where nobody can sneak up on me
and nail me with|Escobar's court order.
- Anything else?|- Tell Mickey I stole his truck
before he tells the cops,|because if they stop me,
they'll have enough evidence|to arrest you both. Murder one.
How do you want to play this?|20 bucks a hole?
What's the matter? Too rich for you?
Let's cut out the cute bullshit.|We're here to discuss your life.
Let's wait till we get|out on the course.
- I'm a 14 handicap.|- Nine.
What the hell. It's my club.|I'll play you even. 20 bucks a hole?
- Hell, yes.|- Be my guest.
Hell of a shot.
Good bounce.
Nice putt.
What's it going to take?|100, 200, 300 grand?
If I don't give it to Escobar,|he'll put me in jail.
I'll pay your legal fees.|Contempt of court, big fucking deal.
More like conspiracy|to commit murder.
Escobar's gonna think I'm|trying to cover my ass, not yours.
I can make the|rest of your life awful easy.
You never know when|you're gonna need something extra.
I tell you,|nothing beats bad luck, does it?
What's your deal?
Tell me how you got Katherine Mulwray|to give you her land.
- She suggested it.|- Bodine know that?
Is that why you killed him? Cos he|was asking the same questions I am?
She's alive and well, Jake.
Put me in touch with her.|That's all I ask.
- I can't do that.|- That's the deal.
The deal is you give me the wire|at the end of this round,
or I'll have you killed.|My money or your life.
Ever seen my one-legged golfer?
You all right?
Just relax.
- What's wrong?|- Remember what I said, Jake.
- No sign of the wife?|- No, I haven't seen the wife.
The big guy came out, called Nice,|something about Elsa, radio...
- Watch your feet, buddy.|- Got dimes?
Take it easy. You'll be all right.|You're gonna be all right, Jake.
Please hurry.|They're waiting at the hospital.
Some blonde.
I'm used to seeing the intimate|details of people's lives,
but looking at a guy's x-rays|is as intimate as it gets.
It's the kind of thing most guys|don't even tell their wives about.
Sorry. It has to look like|nobody's home.
The DA's still trying to serve me.
Hand over the wire recording.
- Pardon me?|- Give the recording to the police.
Otherwise you're in contempt|of court, you'll go to jail.
- Would you mind if I had a drink?|- The preliminary hearing's tomorrow.
You've got to answer some questions.
- Scotch and soda?|- Fine.
There's nothing I can tell you|you don't already know.
We'll see.
- Thank you.|- How's your husband's health?
Fine, obviously. Anything else?
What did Mark Bodine ask you|about Katherine Mulwray?
Apparently, she retains the mineral|rights to the subdivision land.
Mark thought|they might be valuable.
I guess he was trying to get|in touch with her.
I don't remember all that much.|When you're...
with somebody like that...|Well, you can imagine.
Yes, I can.
I was honestly unfaithful.
- And with a very ambitious man.|- So?
- Maybe that's why he was killed.|- Over mineral rights?
Jake... Jake cared about land.
He wouldn't kill anybody over|mineral rights. Believe me.
God. Linda.
Honey, there's somebody|I'd like you to meet.
Please don't bother.|I can see you're hard at work.
I don't need any introductions.|Don't stop for a thing.
I simply wish to say that I never|want to see or hear from you again.
I'm sorry.
Not your fault.
- That was your fiancée?|- Used to be.
I'm sure once you explain everything,|she'll calm down and be OK.
What are you looking at?
This. Jake gave it to me.
- It's stuck.|- Let me.
- What kind of flower is it?|- A poppy.
Why is it two colours?
With wild flowers,|you can change the colour.
You don't say.
The way summer fires do,|you simply scorch the seeds.
Of course, it's not permanent.
Wild flowers are very unstable,|so you have to keep scorching them.
Sort of like dying your hair.
Exactly. Otherwise,|the colour will simply...
I don't get it.
I'm sorry.
All I ever wanted was...
All I ever wanted|all these years was just...
to see that you hadn't been hurt...
and that you wouldn't be hurt.
I didn't want you to be involved.
I am involved.|Your crazy husband saw to that.
I didn't want to give you any reason|not to testify.
You said you'd always protect me,|no matter what. I knew you would.
- What about Jake?|- I don't know.
I don't know about Jake.
He made me feel I could|live a normal life like anybody else.
He was romantic.
He's a murderer, right?
Hand over the wire recording.
It is the necessary nature|of any evidentiary hearing
to tolerate, and even to encourage,|some informality.
However, I must remind everyone|that we are seeking probable cause
that a capital crime|has been committed.
There can be no more serious|matter before this court.
Will opposing counsel|approach the bench?
We're all a little new|to this sort of evidence.
If something isn't clear, I want|the witnesses to testify as we go.
All right. Thank you.
Will investigators Tilton and Walsh|please take the stand?
Your Honour, may I respectfully|request that the courtroom
be cleared of all those|not directly involved with this case,
due to the delicate nature|of the material we're about to hear?
This is an open public hearing.
Since there are no minors present,|we shall continue as we are.
- Thank you, Your Honour.|- Bailiff?
I must ask for complete silence|in the courtroom.
Adam boy charlie.|Adam boy charlie.
Lawrence Walsh|at the Bird of Paradise Motel,
October 27, 1948, 1300 hours.
I'm based in bedroom one...
No, Kitty. How could you...
- What's going on here?|- You said you were going...
It's different.|He's done something to it.
- It's procedural.|- It's not the same.
It's just where|they said I'd find you...
Room 19-H... the Bird of|Paradise Motel... Redondo Beach...
Just take it easy.|Don't fuck with me, Jake.
How could you?|How could you? With him?!
It's not the same.
- Not with him!|- They have changed it.
Get her out of here!
- Just calm down, ma'am.|- Where'd that gun come from?
Somebody call an ambulance!
Come on.|Get pictures of everything, Larry.
This isn't it!|They've done something to it!
Bastards! Those... Son of a bitch!
- Was that it, Mr Gittes?|- Yes, Your Honour.
Was that Mr Bodine's voice at the end
saying, "No, you're not,|Jake, I'm going to..." something?
Yes, Your Honour.
In what context|was that statement made?
Having his photos taken|by my associate.
And the "I'm going to..." something?
I believe that's when Mr Bodine|drew the gun and tried to stop us.
- What? He wasn't even in the room.|- He's lying through his teeth.
Isn't it a fact that|you weren't even in the room?
To give Mr Gittes time|to invent something to say?
If you have something to say, address|the court. Objection overruled.
You may answer|the question, Mr Gittes.
I'm certain that I was in the room.
I'm not positive where I was|when the shots were fired.
- Were you, Larry?|- I was under the bed.
I thought Berman had the gun first,|but I didn't know where he got it.
Your Honour, I object to the|witnesses engaging in this colloquy.
They weren't even sworn in.
I find it distracting|to see the District Attorney
getting his objections from Escobar.
Gentlemen, please.
Can we at least agree|there was a gun?
- I agree.|- I hope so.
Very good.|Now, to whom was the gun registered?
To the deceased. Mr Mark Bodine.
- Green Parrot Bar and Grill.|- Isn't it a fact you're out on bail,
having been arrested|at the Green Parrot Bar and Grill?
Wait a minute. The witness|has been charged, not convicted.
- What's the charge?|- The charge?
- The charge.|- Well, that...
Mr Gittes was fondling|the private parts of a vice officer
in the men's room|of the Green Parrot.
- Objection, Your Honour.|- I'm with you, Mr Weinberger.
I have no idea|what you thought you could do
with this kind of evidence,|Mr Hannah.
It has no place in my courtroom.|Do yourself a favour.
The next time,|you be sure you've got a case.
That's about it for this hearing.
Bailiff, we'll have a short recess|before the next matter.
Maybe I didn't tell|the whole truth at the hearing.
There's one thing|I've learned about the truth,
a little bit goes a long way.
And splashing Katherine Mulwray's|past all over the LA Times
wouldn't do anybody any good.
That's one truth|Jake and I had in common.
Berman's x-rays said more than some|missing words on a wire recording.
What's the difference who passes|the sentence, a doctor or a judge?
This way, Katherine can deal|with her ghosts in private.
And I can try to tell myself|I kept my promise.
But that's the problem|with the past.
There's always plenty more|where that came from.
You want to see it again?
What's new?
We'll be in the model,|keep customers out.
Believe it or not,|I thought I was doing something here,
giving Gls and couples|their first home.
They're the only tract|homes in the Valley, GI or not,
with lath and plaster|and hardwood floors.
Is that right?
They're built to last.
For a while, anyway.
There was a time a few years ago,|when Kitty and I had a cash problem.
For us to own our own home|was a dream.
I figured you got hold of those.
Mark Bodine have any idea|how sick you are?
I didn't know myself|till a few days ago.
Elsa told me the radium|- she's the doctor -
...the radium implants|weren't working.
Vay iz mir. Months of aggravation|with my skin breaking out
and itching,|and trying to keep it from Kitty...
And I'm still riddled with this drek.
So Bodine was only blackmailing you|about Katherine Mulwray?
How did he find out|who your wife was?
He was checking out|the mineral rights on the land,
found the quitclaim to Mickey|and got hold of the notary public.
He threatened to expose her if she|didn't sign over the mineral rights,
dump the subdivision in his lap.
Knowing that vantz, I figured|he'd do it after I was dead anyway.
He was in it|for a lot more than that.
Everything OK?
How much do you want for those?
How much do you think|I want for those?
- Kitty tell you who she was?|- No.
- Then how did you find out?|- I just did my job.
She couldn't tell you, Jake.|And she didn't know what I was doing.
I was too afraid|to tell her I was sick.
If she had known,|none of this would have happened.
It's my fault.
I didn't want to undress|in front of her, I slept in the den.
She thought I'd lost interest in her.
We wanted to have a baby.
She was devastated, Jake.|You know our Kitty.
She was looking for assurance|from somebody
and as it happened,|Mark was there looking for her.
You took a hell of a chance|hiring me.
Nothing like the chance Bodine|would talk about Kitty.
- Besides, there was something else.|- What's that?
He was fucking my wife.
Come on, Jake!
Come on, Jake!
Are you all right, Jake?
Come on, Jake. Let's get out of here.
Wait a second. Better check...
Look at the crapper. There's|stuff coming out of the toilet,
the sink, the shower.|I don't know. Just take a look.
Jesus, he's right.|There's shit everywhere.
That's expensive shit.
Yeah, I'll have more lawsuits|than Carter has liver pills.
That's oil. It's oil. That's what|Rawley and Bodine have been after.
They're drilling under|your subdivision to get it, Jake.
My oil?
Not for long if we don't|get out of here. Come on, Jake.
- Then it's Kitty's?|- Come on, Jake.
- I'm gonna stay and have a smoke.|- What?
Would you want an autopsy|if you were me?
That wouldn't be so good for Kitty.|Got a light?
Go ahead. Give him the light.
Get out of here. Go on.
Get out of here. Get out.
Dear Kitty,|I can't face you with this.
I guess from the day we met,
all I ever really wanted|was to know I could take care of you
and that you would love me|and think well of me.
So naturally,|I haven't liked being reminded
I can't take care of you|or protect you much longer.
You remind me about that|more than anybody.
All you have to do|is walk into a room
or look like you need help|opening up a can of soup
or buttoning the back of your dress.
If I hurt you, honey...
try and forgive me,|it's been rough...
knowing I wouldn't be able|to keep anybody from hurting you.
I love you, Kitty.
That son of a bitch.
What does he mean, he doesn't feel|he could face me with this?
- I think he means...|- Why didn't you tell me?
I thought he should tell you himself.
Could you...
- Could you...|- What? Anything. the window?
Yeah. I can do that.
Thank you.
Mrs Berman,|if you want to talk to him,
sometimes I think that's the best|thing. I don't have to listen.
Does it ever go away?
- What's that?|- The past.
I think you have to work|real hard on that one.
- I can't do it alone.|- I don't suppose you'll have to.
- That's wrong.|- Don't be too sure.
That's your problem, kid.|You don't know who you're kidding.
You take too good|a care of me, Mr Gittes.
It's a tough habit to break.
Think of me from time to time.
It never goes away.
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