Give me your hand!
Give me your hand.
-I thought you said no more aches or pains. -It's this darned corset. It binds.
No three-way stretch? How very un-chic.
You know the police department doctors. No sense of style.
Anyway, tomorrow will be the day.
What's tomorrow?
The corset comes off tomorrow.
I'll be able to scratch myself tomorrow.
I'll throw this miserable thing out the window. I'll be a free man.
Midge, do you suppose many men wear corsets?
-More than you think. -Really?
Do you know that from personal experience or....
Please.
-What happens after tomorrow? -What do you mean?
What are you going to do once you've quit the police force?
-You sound so disapproving, Midge. -No. It's your life.
You were the bright, young lawyer who decided...
...he was going to be chief of police someday.
-I had to quit. -Why?
Because of this fear of heights I have, this acrophobia.
I wake up at night seeing that man fall from the roof...
...and I try to reach out to him and....
-It wasn't your fault. -That's what everybody tells me.
-Johnny, the doctors explained to you-- -I know, I know.
I have acrophobia, which gives me vertigo, and I get dizzy.
What a moment to find out I had it.
You've got it, and there's no losing it. And there's no one to blame. So why quit?
You mean, and sit behind a desk, chair-borne?
-Where you belong. -What about my acrophobia?
Suppose I'm sitting in this chair, behind a desk.
A pencil falls from the desk down to the floor...
...and I reach down to pick it up, bingo, my acrophobia's back.
What'll you do?
I'm not gonna do anything for a while.
Don't forget, I'm a man of independent means, as the saying goes.
Fairly independent.
Why don't you go away for a while?
You mean, to forget? Midge, don't be so motherly.
I'm not gonna crack up.
-Have you had any dizzy spells this week? -I'm having one right now.
Midge, the music. Don't you think it's sort of....
What's this doohickey?
It's a brassiere.
You know about those things. You're a big boy now.
I've never run across one like that.
It's brand-new. Revolutionary uplift.
No shoulder straps, no back straps, but does everything a brassiere should do.
Works on the principle of the cantilever bridge.
It does?
An aircraft engineer down the peninsula designed it.
He worked it out in his spare time.
Kind of a hobby.
A do-it-yourself type of thing.
How's your love life, Midge?
That's following a train of thought.
Well?
Normal.
Aren't you ever gonna get married?
You know there's only one man in the world for me, Johnny-O.
You mean me. We were engaged once, weren't we?
-Three whole weeks. -Good old college days.
But you were the one that called off the engagement, you remember?
I'm still available. Available Ferguson.
Midge, do you remember a fellow in college by the name of Gavin Elster?
-Gavin Elster? -Yes, funny name.
You'd think I would? No.
I got a call from Gavin today. He dropped out of sight during the war.
Somebody said he went East. I guess he's back.
-It's a Mission number. -That's Skid Row, isn't it?
Could be.
He's probably on the bum and wants to touch you for the price of a drink.
Well, I'm on the bum. I'll buy him a couple drinks and tell him my troubles.
Not tonight. How about you and me going out for a beer?
Sorry, old man. Work.
Then, I think I'll go home.
Midge, what'd you mean, there's no losing it?
What?
The acrophobia.
I asked my doctor.
He said that only another emotional shock could do it and probably wouldn't.
You're not gonna go diving off another rooftop to find out?
-I think I can lick it. -How?
I have a theory.
I think if I can get used to heights just a little bit at a time...
...just a little, like that, progressively, you see?
I'll show you what I mean. Here.
I'll show you what I mean.
-We'll start with this. -That?
What do you want me to start with, the Golden Gate Bridge?
Watch this. Here we go.
There.
Now, I look up, I look down.
-You're kidding. Wait a minute. -There's nothing to it.
-Here. -That's a girl.
I'll use that. Put it right there.
All right, here's the first step.
Okay, now step number two.
Step number two coming up.
There we are.
See? I look up, I look down, I look up....
I'm going right out to buy myself a nice tall stepladder.
-Take it easy now. -All right, now here we go.
No problem.
Why, this is a cinch. I look up, I look down.
How did you get in the shipbuilding business, Gavin?
I married into it.
Very interesting business.
To be honest, I find it dull.
You don't have to do it for a living.
No, but one assumes responsibilities.
My wife's family is all gone.
Someone has to look after her interests.
Her father's partner runs the company yard in the East. Baltimore.
So I decided, as long as I had to work at it, I'd come back here.
-I've always liked it here. -How long have you been back?
Almost a year.
You like it?
San Francisco's changed.
The things that spell San Francisco to me are disappearing fast.
Like all these.
I should have liked to have lived here then.
Color, excitement, power.
Freedom.
Shouldn't you be sitting down?
No, I'm all right.
I was sorry to read about that thing in the paper. And you've quit the force.
-Is it a permanent physical disability? -No, no.
It just means I can't climb stairs that are too steep or go to high places...
...like the bar at the Top of the Mark.
There are plenty of street-level bars in this town.
Would you like a drink now?
No, I don't think so.
It's a little early in the day for me.
I guess that 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.
What's on your mind, Gavin?
I asked you to come up here, Scottie, knowing that you'd quit detective work...
...but I wondered whether you'd go back on the job as a special favor to me.
I want you to follow my wife.
No, it's not that. We're very happily married.
-Well, then.... -I'm afraid some harm may come to her.
-From whom? -Someone dead.
Scottie, do you believe that someone out of the past...
...someone dead, can enter and take possession of a living being?
No.
If I told you I believe this has happened to my wife, what would you say?
I'd say take her to the nearest psychiatrist or psychologist...
...or neurologist or.... Or maybe just the plain family doctor.
I'd have him check on you, too.
Then you're of no use to me. I'm sorry I wasted your time.
Thanks for coming in, Scottie.
Okay.
I didn't mean to be that rough.
No, it sounds idiotic, I know.
And you're still the hardheaded Scot, aren't you?
Always were. Do you think I'm making it up?
No.
I'm not making it up. I wouldn't know how.
She'll be talking to me about something.
Suddenly the words fade into silence.
A cloud comes into her eyes and they go blank.
She's somewhere else, away from me, someone I don't know.
I call to her, she doesn't even hear me.
Then, with a long sigh, she's back.
Looks at me brightly. Doesn't even know she's been away.
Can't tell me where or when.
How often does this happen?
More and more in the past few weeks.
And she wanders. God knows where she wanders.
I followed her one day...
...watched her coming out of the apartment, someone I didn't know.
She even walked a different way.
Got into her car and...
...drove out to Golden Gate Park, five miles.
Sat by the lake...
...staring across the water at the pillars that stand on the far shore.
You know, Portals of the Past.
Sat there a long time without moving.
I had to leave, get back to the office.
When I got home that evening, I asked her what she'd done all day.
She said she'd driven to Golden Gate Park...
...and sat by the lake, that's all.
Well?
The speedometer on her car showed that she'd driven 94 miles.
Where did she go?
I've got to know where she goes and what she does...
...before I get involved with doctors.
-Have you discussed this with the doctors? -Yes, but carefully.
I want to know more before committing her to that kind of care.
I'll get you a firm of private eyes to follow her for you.
-They're dependable, good boys. -I want you.
Look, this isn't my line.
Scottie, I need a friend, someone I can trust.
I'm in a panic about this.
I'm supposed to be retired. I don't want to get mixed up in this darn thing.
Look, we're going to an opening at the opera tonight.
We're dining at Ernie's first. You can see her there.
Ernie's.
Say, will you tell me something? That lady sitting there.
Who's the woman in the painting?
That's Carlotta. You'll find it in the catalogue. Portrait of Carlotta.
-May I have this? -Yes.
Yes?
Is there something I can do for you?
-Yes. You run this hotel? -Yes.
Would you tell me who has the room on the second floor...
...in the corner, that corner?
I'm afraid we couldn't give out information of that sort.
Our clients are entitled to their privacy, you know.
And I do believe it's against the law.
Of course, I don't think any of them would mind really, but still I--
Has she done something wrong?
Please answer my question.
-I can't imagine that sweet girl-- -What's her name?
-Miss Valdés. Spanish, you know. -Carlotta Valdés?
Yeah, that's it.
Sweet name, isn't it? Foreign, but sweet.
How long has she had the room?
It must be two weeks. Her rent's due tomorrow.
Does she sleep here ever?
No, she just comes to sit two or three times a week.
I don't ask questions, you know, as long as they're well-behaved.
When she comes down, don't say I've been here.
But she hasn't been here today.
I just saw her come in five minutes ago.
No, she hasn't been here at all. I would have seen her.
I've been right here all the time, putting olive oil on my rubber plant leaves.
And there.
You see? Her key is on the rack.
-Would you please go up and look? -To her room?
-That's right. -Yes, of course, if you ask.
-But it does seem silly. -Thank you.
Mr. Detective?
Would you like to come and look?
-Her car's gone. -What car?
Midge...
...who do you know that's an authority on San Francisco history?
That's the kind of greeting a girl likes.
None of this: "Hello, you look wonderful" stuff.
Just, "Do you know an authority on San Francisco--"
-Want a drink? -No, thanks.
Well, who do you? You know everybody.
Professor Saunders over in Berkeley.
No, I don't mean that kind of history.
I mean the small stuff, people you never heard of.
You mean the gay old bohemian days of gay old San Francisco.
Juicy stories, like who shot who in the Embarcadero...
-...in August, 1879. -Yeah, that's right.
-Pop Leibel. -Who?
Pop Leibel. He owns the Argosy Book Shop.
What do you want to know?
I want to know who shot who in the Embarcadero in August, 1879.
Wait a minute. You're not a detective anymore. What's going on?
-You know him well? -Who?
-Pop Leibel. -Sure.
Come on. I want you to introduce me.
-Get your hat. -I don't need a hat.
Johnny, what's it all about?
Wait a minute.
Yes, I remember.
Carlotta.
The beautiful Carlotta.
The sad Carlotta.
What does an old house on the corner of Eddy and Gough...
...have to do with Carlotta Valdés?
It was hers. It was built for her many years ago.
-By whom? -By....
No. The name I do not remember.
A rich man. A powerful man.
-Cigarette? -No, thank you.
-Cigarette, miss? -No, thanks.
It is not an unusual story.
She came from somewhere small, to the south of the city.
Some say from a mission settlement.
Young, yes. Very young.
And she was found dancing and singing in a cabaret by that man...
...and he took her...
...and built for her the great house in the Western Addition.
And...
...there was a child.
Yes, that's it. The child. The child.
I cannot tell you exactly how much time passed...
...or how much happiness there was...
...but then he threw her away.
He had no other children. His wife had no children.
So, he kept the child and threw her away.
You know, a man could do that in those days.
They had the power and the freedom.
And she became the sad Carlotta.
Alone in the great house...
...walking the streets alone...
...her clothes becoming old and patched and dirty.
And, the mad Carlotta...
...stopping people in the streets to ask:
"Where is my child?
"Have you seen my child?"
-Poor thing. -And she died.
-She died. -How?
By her own hand.
There are many such stories.
-Thank you very much. -You are welcome.
-I appreciate it. Good-bye. -Good-bye.
Wait a minute! Good-bye, Pop. Thanks a lot.
-Now then, Johnny-O, pay me. -For what?
-For bringing you here. Come on, tell. -There's nothing to tell.
-You'll tell or be back in that corset. -Come on. I'll take you home.
There we are.
-You haven't told me everything. -I've told you enough.
-Who's the guy and who's the wife? -Out. I've got things to do.
I know. The one that phoned. Your old college chum, Elster.
Midge, out, please.
The idea is the beautiful, mad Carlotta has returned from the dead...
...and taken possession of Elster's wife.
Johnny, really. Come on.
I'm not telling you what I think, I'm telling you what he thinks.
-What do you think? -Well, I....
-Is she pretty? -Carlotta?
Not Carlotta. Elster's wife.
Yes. I guess you'd consider that she would be--
I think I'll go take a look at that portrait. Good-bye.
-Midge.... -Good-bye!
You've done well, Scottie. You're good at your job.
-That's Carlotta Valdés. -Yes.
There are things you didn't tell me.
-I didn't know where she'd lead you. -But you knew about this.
You notice the way she does her hair? There's something else.
My wife, Madeleine, has several pieces of jewelry that belonged to Carlotta.
She inherited them.
Never wore them. They were too old-fashioned.
Until now.
Now when she's alone, she takes them out and looks at them...
...handles them gently, curiously...
...puts them on and stares at herself in the mirror...
...and then goes into that other world, is someone else again.
Carlotta Valdés was what, your wife's grandmother?
Great-grandmother.
The child who was taken from her...
...whose loss drove Carlotta mad and to her death, was Madeleine's grandmother.
And the McKittrick Hotel is the old Valdés home.
I think that explains it.
Anyone could become obsessed with the past with a background like that.
She never heard of Carlotta Valdés.
She knows nothing of a grave out at the Mission Dolores?
Or that old house on Eddy Street?
The portrait at the Palace of the Legion of....
-Nothing. -When she goes to these places--
She's no longer my wife.
How do you know all these things she doesn't?
Her mother told me most of them before she died.
I dug out the rest for myself here.
-Why wouldn't she tell her daughter? -Natural fear.
Her grandmother went insane, took her own life.
Her blood is in Madeleine.
Boy, I need this.
Madeleine.
Madeleine!
Yes?
No, it's all right.
Yeah, I'll call you back.
Yes.
You all right?
You'll want this.
You'd better come over here by the fire where it's warm.
What am I doing here?
What happened?
Well, you fell into San Francisco Bay.
And I tried to dry your hair as best I could.
Your things are in the kitchen. They'll be dry in a few minutes.
Come on over by the fire.
I'll get you some cushions.
There you are.
Would you like to have some coffee?
Here, you'd better have some. Or perhaps you'd like a drink?
I fell into the Bay and you fished me out?
That's right.
-Thank you. -You don't remember?
No, I....
Do you remember where you were?
Yes. Of course I remember that.
But then I must have had a dizzy spell and fainted.
Where were you?
At Old Fort Point. Out at the Presidio.
Of course I remember. I often go there.
Why? Why do you go there?
Because I love it so. It's beautiful there.
Especially at sunset.
Thank you for the fire.
Where were you before?
-When? -This afternoon, I mean.
Wandering about.
I know, but where? Where were you just before?
Downtown, shopping.
Here, you'd better have some coffee.
I think it's still warm.
You're terribly direct in your questions.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude.
You're not. You're merely direct.
And what were you doing there, at Old Fort Point?
Just wandering about.
-You like it, too? -Yes.
And where had you been just before?
I'd been to the Palace of the Legion of Honor, the art gallery.
Yes, that's a lovely spot, isn't it?
I've never been inside, but it looks so lovely driving past.
It's lucky for me, you were wandering about.
Thank you.
I've been a terrible bother to you.
No, you haven't.
When you....
There were some pins in my hair.
The pins, yes. Right in here. I'll get 'em for you.
And my purse, please.
-Here you are. -Thank you.
You shouldn't have brought me here.
I didn't know where you lived.
You could have looked in my car. But you didn't know my car, did you?
I knew which one it was. It's right outside here now.
But I didn't think you wanted to be taken home that way.
No, you're right.
I'm glad you didn't take me home. I wouldn't have known you.
Thank you. But I don't know you and you don't know me.
-My name is Madeleine Elster. -My name's John Ferguson.
Good, strong name. Do your friends call you John or Jack?
John, mostly.
Old friends call me John. Acquaintances call me Scottie.
I shall call you Mr. Ferguson.
Gee whiz, I wouldn't like that.
After what happened this afternoon, I should think you'd call me Scottie.
Maybe even John.
I prefer John.
There, that's done. And what do you do, John?
I wander about.
That's a good occupation. And you live here, alone?
-One shouldn't live alone. -Some people prefer it.
No, it's wrong.
I'm married, you know.
Will you tell me something? Has this ever happened to you before?
What?
Falling into San Francisco Bay.
No, it's never happened before.
I've fallen into lakes, out of rowboats, when I was a little girl.
I even fell into the river once trying to leap from one stone to another.
But I've never fallen into San Francisco Bay.
Have you ever before?
No, it's the first time for me, too.
I'll get you some more coffee.
-Hello? -What happened? She's not home yet.
She's all right. She's still here. I'll bring her home soon.
-What happened? -She went into the Bay.
-Hello? Hello? -Did she hurt herself?
No, she'll be fine. There's nothing to worry about.
But she doesn't know. Do you understand?
She doesn't know what happened.
Scottie, Madeleine is 26.
Carlotta Valdés committed suicide when she was 26.
Just hold on a minute, Gavin.
Well now, Johnny-O. Was it a ghost?
Was it fun?
That letter for me?
-Yes. Hello. -Hello.
I worried about you last night. You shouldn't have run off that way.
Well, I suddenly felt such a fool.
I wanted to drive you home. Are you all right?
Yes, I'm fine. No aftereffects.
As I remember now, the water was cold, wasn't it?
-lt sure was. -What a terrible thing for me to do.
You were so kind.
It's a formal thank-you note and a great big apology.
-You've nothing to apologize for. -Yes, I do.
The whole thing must have been so embarrassing for you.
Not at all. I enjoyed...
...talking to you.
I enjoyed talking to you.
I'll get my mail.
-Would you like to have a cup of coffee? -No, thank you.
I couldn't mail it. I didn't know your address, but I had a landmark.
I remembered Coit Tower. It led me straight to you.
That's the first time I've been grateful for Coit Tower.
-I hope we will too. -What?
-Meet again sometime. -We have.
Good-bye.
Where are you going?
I don't know.
-Shopping? -No.
Anywhere in particular?
I just thought that I'd wander.
That's what I was going to do.
That's right. I forgot. It's your occupation, isn't it?
Don't you think it's a waste for the two of us....
To wander separately?
But only one is a wanderer.
Two together are always going somewhere.
I don't think that's necessarily true.
-You left your door open. -Be right back.
How old?
Some 2,000 years or more.
-The oldest living things. -Yes.
-You've never been here before? -No.
What are you thinking?
Of all the people who've been born and have died...
...while the trees went on living.
Their true name is Sequoia sempervirens. "Always green, ever living."
-I don't like them. -Why?
Knowing I have to die.
Here's a cross section of one of the old trees that's been cut down.
Somewhere in here I was born...
...and there I died.
It was only a moment for you.
You took no notice.
Madeleine.
Madeleine, where are you now?
-Here with you. -Where?
-The tall trees.... -Have you been here before?
-Yes. -When?
When were you born?
-Long ago. -Where?
When? Tell me.
-Madeleine, tell me. -No!
-Where do you go? What takes you away? -I can't tell you.
When you jumped into the Bay, you didn't know where you were.
-I didn't jump. You told me I fell. -Why did you jump?
-I can't tell you. -What was inside that told you to jump?
-Please. -What?
Please, don't ask me.
Take me away from here.
Shall I take you home?
Somewhere in the light.
Promise you won't ask me again. Please promise me that.
Why did you run?
I'm responsible for you now.
The Chinese say that once you've saved a person's life...
...you're responsible for it forever, so I'm committed.
I have to know.
There's so little that I know.
It's as though I were walking down a long corridor...
...that once was mirrored, and fragments of that mirror still hang there...
...and when I come to the end of the corridor...
...there's nothing but darkness.
And I know that when I walk into the darkness...
...that I'll die.
I've never come to the end. I've always come back before then.
-Except once. -Yesterday?
And you didn't know what happened till you found yourself with me.
You didn't know where you were.
But the small scenes, the fragments of the mirror, you remember those.
-Vaguely. -What do you remember?
There's a room...
...and I sit there alone.
-Always alone. -What else?
-A grave. -Where?
I don't know. It's an open grave and...