The busy streets of Tokyo.....A small child squatting beside a tiny water fountain.....A busy indoor swimming pool.....A karate class on a large dojo....
A driving range, somewhere in Tokyo...
A short, stout man in a loud Hawaiian shirt and red ballcap, carrying a tray of golf balls and a driver, walks to a spot not taken by other (mostly Japanese) golf enthusiasts. He sets the tray down, places the first ball on the tee, then makes a stance, takes a practice swing. A tall, thin, gray-haired man in brown shirt and slacks walks up and around behind him.
TALL MAN, touching the golfer's left arm; he speaks with a British accent: Left wrist, old boy. Too tight.
SHORT MAN: Thanks, thanks.
TALL MAN: Mind if I show you? I had the same problem myself for years.
SHORT MAN: Good.
TALL MAN: Well now, look. (He reaches around the golfer and presses his right elbow against his side.) You bring your right elbow in close to your side. Now keep this elbow right straight. A little more. Right. Now swing.
As the Short Man raises the driver, the Tall Man plunges a knife into his back.
SHORT MAN, with a grunt of pain: What are you doing?
As the Short Man falls, dead, the Tall Man walks nonchalantly away.
A hotel room, Tokyo...
Tatia Loring is in the bathroom, dipping a brush into a cup of shaving cream. Kelly Robinson walks up with a cup of coffee, shirtless. He sits on the edge of a counter and sips the coffee as Tatia applies the shaving cream to his face. Some of the shaving cream gets on his cup.
ROBINSON: Uh, actually, honey, I've never taken cream in my coffee. Is there any way I could do this for myself?
TATIA: I don't want it thick in some spots and thin in others.
ROBINSON: Oh. Oh, all right, then.
TATIA: Okay, now, just pick up the razor and shave.
Without enthusiasm, Kelly sets down his coffee, picks up a razor, and glances over at Alexander Scott, who is standing in the doorway with his own cup of coffee. Kelly begins shaving. Tatia raises a camera, then lowers it.
TATIA: No. Light's better on the other side. (She moves around to Kelly's left side.) Could you possibly, uh, shave on the other side, please?
ROBINSON: Honey, I never start on the other side and I don't think I could.
Tatia snaps a shot, moves behind Kelly.
TATIA: What are you doing?
ROBINSON: Taking out the blade, Tash. I shaved this morning. I shaved before the match. I don't want to be looking like a turkey.
TATIA, putting a hand on Kelly's shoulder: Okay, could you come down a little bit? That's it. No. No, wait. Just even up. That's it. (She takes a shot of Kelly's reflection in the mirror.) Down a little bit. No. Your shoulder's too high. There. That's it. (She snaps another shot.) Beautiful. Down. There. Straighten. Straight.
By now Robinson is bent over double.
ROBINSON, standing up: Honey. Hold it. Hold it! A day in the life of a tennis player, right? That's what your magazine wants, that's what they're paying you for, that's what we're definitely trying to achieve. The reality of me.
TATIA: That's correct.
ROBINSON: Okay. Watch this.
Robinson picks up an electric toothbrush, puts toothpaste on it, and begins brushing his teeth.
TATIA: No, I want you shaving.
ROBINSON: This is the way I always start my day, every day in the world. (He mumbles incoherently with the toothbrush in his mouth to Scott, then to Tatia.) Now doesn't that grab you?
TATIA: No. That's not the shot I want.
ROBINSON: Fine. You take a picture... (He takes the toothbrush out of his mouth; it's still on, and sprays toothpaste all over Tatia and her camera.)
TATIA, angrily: Forget it. (She walks out of the bathroom.)
SCOTT: It's just that his aim is bad with a toothbrush.
TATIA: He is not going to ruin this assignment for me.
She kneels at a table and places the camera in a case, then takes a second camera from around her neck. Robinson walks up, kneels beside her.
ROBINSON: Who, me? Hey, Tatia. Now how could you be thinking those evil thoughts about me? I wouldn't do a thing like that.
TATIA: Well then just be ready promptly at seven.So I can wrap up the biography part of this job.
ROBINSON: Okay, now, I will shave for you all day long and never pick up a toothbrush, so help me, for my life, I will.
TATIA: We'll discuss your life later at dinner.
ROBINSON: Well, listen, about dinner. I think it's a marvelous idea, but do we have to mix business with pleasure? Why couldn't we just have a little chateaubriand and, uh, no interview.
TATIA: Sorry, but I have a deadline. And you don't have to pick me up. I'll be here a seven. And after tonight you can be rid of me.
She gets up, grabs her case, and heads for the door.
ROBINSON: Well, just suppose that I don't wanna be....
The door slams. Scott walks over and sits in a chair near Kelly.
SCOTT: Chick has kinda gotten to you, huh?
ROBINSON, distracted: Hmm?
SCOTT: I mean, um, how come you keep putting her on?
ROBINSON, getting up to cross the room; he pours himself another cup of coffee: I don't know.
SCOTT: She got your defenses up?
ROBINSON: I don't know.
Kelly and Scotty's hotel room, later...
Kelly is standing at the open door to the balcony, looking out at the Tokyo night, when Scott comes in with a letter.
SCOTT. sitting down and tearing open the letter: We got one letter downstairs. For you, from my mother.
ROBINSON: All right!
SCOTT: You don't mind if I read it, do you?
ROBINSON, drily: Uh, no. Why don't you open it and read it.
SCOTT: Says, uh, she wants to thank you for the embroidered tablecloth. Says she had a nice birthday. And be sure I eat my greens. And pop sends his regards.
Scott folds the letter and hands it over his shoulder to Robinson, who's sitting on the back of the sofa.
ROBINSON: All right. A lovely, lovely lady you got there, my Man. Glad she liked the tablecloth.
SCOTT: Listen. You gonna be out late tonight?
ROBINSON: You get one letter from mom and you're starting to sound like her. As a matter of fact, yes, I'm going to go for about nine a.m., how will that be?
SCOTT: I got a strange feeling about that chick.
ROBINSON: Yes, yes. That makes two of us, Jack.
Someone knocks loudly on the door. Scott gets up, opens the door. A slender, black-haired man in a light-blue western-cut suit stands outside in the hall.
SCOTT, delighted: John Irving!
ROBINSON, rushing forward to greet Irving: John Irving! You ol' buckeye! '64 Kiowa!
IRVING: I'm tellin' you, boy, I am beat. You gotta get me something to straighten me out.
ROBINSON: We'll flatten you out.
SCOTT: Coffee! Coffee!
IRVING: Coffee! Is that all you boys got?
Irving sits on the sofa, putting his black briefcase case on the floor next to the coffee table. Scott sits next to him, sheds his coat, revealing his shoulder-holstered gun.
ROBINSON, pouring Irving a cup of coffee: We're high livers, pard, but we're clean livers around here.
SCOTT, laughing: You better believe it.
ROBINSON, handing Irving the cup: That's right. Now don't bother about them grits floatin' around in there.
SCOTT: Better have some of that mud!
SCOTT: Neat. What brings you to Tokyo?
IRVING: Well I just thought I'd, uh, hide out here for a few hours. That's what I'm doing.
SCOTT: How come?
IRVING: Well, uh, see, I got tailed from the airport. Now, I shook that boy on the freeway, but just to make sure he stays shook I just thought I'd, uh, stay out of sight for a while until I go back to work.
ROBINSON: I wish you would. What's happening, John?
IRVING: Well, the last three agents we sent from Washington enroute to Saigon never arrived there. One was an importer. One was a professor. And the third one, well, uh, he was a dry foods salesman who, uh -- he got stabbed on the golf driving range here in Tokyo a few days ago.
SCOTT: Arthur Hanley? Was he an agent?
IRVING: Uh huh. See, I'm in the murder prevention business as of right now.
SCOTT: John, who were the other two agents?
IRVING: Lyman and Wallace. (Opens his attache case, takes out three black-and-white photos, hands them around.) Now, uh, here's Lyman, the importer. Here's Benjamin Wallace, economics professor. This here's Hanley. It's rough on those widows. Now, there's no corpse on these two. So, no insurance, all the benefits.
Someone knocks on the door.
ROBINSON, heading for the door: Oops. It's my woman, my woman. On time, too.
IRVING: This Tokyo's got it all over Texas.
SCOTT: You better believe it.
IRVING: You mean the girls come here and pick you up?
SCOTT: Oh, yeah.
At the door, Robinson looks back at Scott.
ROBINSON: Put your coat on, Woody.
He waits until Scott shrugs on his coat, concealing the gun.
ROBINSON: Tash, is that you?
TATIA (through the door): Yes, it's me.
Robinson opens the door -- and gapes at Tatia, beautiful in a blue dress.
TATIA: I just hate being prompt.
ROBINSON: Well, it's not very feminine of you, no.
TATIA: I'm sorry.
ROBINSON, taking her by the hand and leading her into the room: Well I'm...I'm...I'm glad you're prompt, because if you weren't on time you'd...uh, probably be late, and I, myself, I would, uh...I don't know...Uh, Miss Loring, allow me to present John Irving, one of the wealthiest of the swingers of Fort Worth. Matter of fact, he put a large wad on me in the forthcoming Kyoto tournament. Uh, Mr. Irving, I give you Tatia Loring -- for about one second.
IRVING: It's a rare pleasure, ma'am. Indeed.
TATIA: How do you do, Mr. Irving.
IRVING: Why don't you kids stick around here and have a few drinks?
ROBINSON: No. No, John, no. We have a lot of ground to cover, Tash and I. (Still gazing at Tatia, he sticks a hand out in Irving's direction.) Lend me a hundred, John. I'll pay you back tomorrow.
IRVING: Why sure, boy. Uh, here, take two. They're small.
ROBINSON, to Tatia: Well, let's go.
TATIA, to Irving: Very nice meeting you. Goodbye, Scotty.
Kelly and Tatia leave.
IRVING: Man, I'm on a murder case and he's out there playin'!
SCOTT, shedding his jacket again: Listen, John, jealousy will get you no place. I'm going to take a shower and after that we'll go get some chow, all right?
IRVING: Fine, fine.
SCOTT: I know a place over in the Ginza that serves seaweed that tastes just like collard greens.
IRVING: Hey, they serve tamales there, too?
SCOTT: Yeah, but their tamales taste like raw fish.
IRVING: Raw fish!
SCOTT: Myum myum myum.
In the bathroom of the hotel room...
Scotty's in the shower, singing at the top of his lungs.
SCOTT: I'll be out in a minute, John!
IRVING, calling from the other room: That filly of Kelly's -- what did you say her name was?
IRVING, from the other room: What did you say the girl's name was?
SCOTT: Loring! L-O-R-I-N-G. (Cuts off the shower, opens the stall door, dries off with a towel.) Boy, she was all over him on the court today. I tell you, she almost ruined that match for him. Taking pictures of him while he's shooting a match. Almost got a line drive right in her ol' camera lens. (He slings the towel over his shoulder and puts on a bathrobe.) She sure did look great tonight, though, I'll tell you that. Listen, you serious about those ta-... (He goes to the door, looks into the room -- and stops short.)
Irving is lying face-down on the floor. Scott runs to him, kneels, closes his eyes and shakes his head, as though he can't believe he's really seeing this. Then he rises, runs back to the bathroom, retrieves his automatic, crosses the room quickly to the open balcony door, looks out. He closes the door, returns to Irving, removes the garrotte from around the dead man's neck. Picks up the photos Irving had been holding in his hand, looks at them -- Hanley, Wallace, Lyman -- then turns them face-down on the table, one at a time, and stares at what is printed on the back of each: PHOTO BY TATIA LORING.
A restaurant, overlooking Tokyo at night, ablaze with neon...
Kelly and Tatia sit at a table beside the windows, sharing a bottle of wine.
ROBINSON: Same rule holds, now. No interviewing and no questions until I give the word. All right?
TATIA: You're the boss.
ROBINSON: I am?
TATIA: I'm only obnoxious when I'm shooting. I can't let myself be a woman or I'd lose control of my subject.
ROBINSON: Well, you wouldn't have to worry about that with me.
TATIA: Well, maybe just this once I should change my tactics.
ROBINSON: I wish you would. And, since I'm the boss, I'll interview you. Now, what are you interested in?
TATIA: Hmm. My job. Men.
ROBINSON: That's a nice list. Rather small.
TATIA: And the human condition.
TATIA: I feel strongly about injustice. And I feel strongly about making an effort. And I feel strongly about kids.
TATIA: There's a song Billie Holliday used to sing. A song she wrote. Called God Bless A Child.
ROBINSON: How's it go? The part you like?
TATIA, singing softly: 'Mama may have. And Papa may have. But God bless the child that's got his own.'
ROBINSON: Well, what about me? In the midst of all the things you feel strongly about. Do I fit?
TATIA: Would you like to, Kelly?
ROBINSON: Ordinarily, no. Just be another game we'd play out to an inevitable conclusion. But, Tatia. Tatia. It's a very special name. I would like to fit...with you. Very much.
Tatia puts something to her lips, and Kelly produces a lighter, lights it. Startled, Tatia realizes it isn't a cigarette.
TATIA: It's my eyebrow pencil!
ROBINSON: Yes, it is.
They laugh, and when they stop, just gaze into each other's eyes.
Kelly and Scotty's hotel room, later that night...
Scotty is sitting on the floor, writing in a notebook, his back against the sofa, when Kelly comes in, cheerful, ripping off his tie.
ROBINSON: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! And welcome to the opening night performance of... (He does a little dance) ...Seventh Heaven.
SCOTT: Sit down. I want to talk to you.
ROBINSON: No chance, Man. I'm going to do twenty minutes on the wonderfulness of a fantastic woman who will dance her way into your minds and hearts.
SCOTT: The longer you carry on, the worse it's going to get.
ROBINSON, having shed his jacket, stretches out on the sofa with his feet up on the back and his hands behind his head: Yes, yes. Well, at the opening of our scene, you will find half-wit Robinson, under a spell, having been reduced to about age twelve.
SCOTT: John Irving is dead, Man. Strangled to death, over here, while I was taking a shower. Couldn't have been dead over thirty seconds. Smuggled his body up to his room so we wouldn't be involved with the police. (He gestures at the three black-and-white photos on the coffee table beside him.) Here's another little present for you.
ROBINSON, sitting up: Yeah. I saw 'em.
SCOTT: Turn it over.
Kelly turns over the first photo, sees the words PHOTO BY TATIA LORING.
SCOTT: Try for two. (Waits until Kelly turns over the second photo.) Now hit a home run.
Kelly turns over the last photo, squeezes his eyes shut, opens them again.
ROBINSON: You're out of your mind.
SCOTT: Flip over some chick you didn't even know day before yesterday, and when I tell you she's involved in the deaths of three men you tell me I'm out of my mind. Okay, you better straighten up, Jack.
ROBINSON: Just because she's got a photo credit on three pictures?
SCOTT: That's right.
ROBINSON: You're saying that she's connected with three murders.
SCOTT: Maybe. Maybe four. How do you know she didn't put the finger on Johnny Irving?
Better start thinking about that. As a matter of fact, start thinking about Tatia. Straight from the shoulder. Tatia. Girl agent. For them. Start thinking about that.
ROBINSON, standing now: No. No good.
SCOTT: Boy, the United States is really in trouble.
ROBINSON: Smack you right in the mouth.
SCOTT: Go ahead, help yourself, Charlie. Maybe it'll clear your mind.
ROBINSON, sighing: Well, come on. Let's get started to work on it.
SCOTT: If you think your mind is clear enough, come over here and listen to me for a few minutes.
ROBINSON, moves over to a table to pour himself a cup of coffee: Go ahead. What have you got?
SCOTT: All right, let's talk about that woman.
ROBINSON: She's a freelance photographer. That's how she makes a living. She did not photograph John Irving.
ROBINSON: All right.
SCOTT: She's photographing you.
ROBINSON: So she's going to kill me.
SCOTT: Or have you killed. Who picked the place where you had dinner?
ROBINSON: I picked it.
SCOTT: Did she make a phone call?
ROBINSON: She...went to the powder room.
SCOTT: And made a phone call.
ROBINSON, angrily: How do I know if she went to make a phone call? She went to the powder room.
SCOTT: It doesn't help the picture. How do you know she didn't go in the back and use the phone and report that Johnny was with us? Now listen. Do me a favor, will you please? Forget that woman. Treat her as if she were your own worst enemy.
Robinson throws the coffee cup down, gets up, goes into the adjoining bedroom. Scotty can see his shadow against the white rice-paper panels separating the rooms.
SCOTT: Well, I don't know. Maybe that's what they want. They want to separate us. But would you please think about the possibility? They want to kill you!
ROBINSON: All right. I will think about the possibility. (Comes to the door.) If she wants to kill me, I'll make it easy for her.
Kelly and Tatia walk out of a building to a small red convertible. She is wearing a sleeveless orange dress, he a tan pullover and white jeans. He holds the door for her, puts a picnic basket in the back, gets in behind the wheel, pulls out into traffic. They drive north, on a highway out of Tokyo.
Kelly and Tatia walk beneath the massive Shinto torii along a broad flagstone path, past a tall Buddhist pagoda, toward the main entrance.
TATIA: I give you Toshogu Shrine. To be in it is to be replenished, renewed. It's been exactly like this for 450 years. You know, I've photographed it a dozen times and it still seems different to me.
Toshogu Shrine, Sacred Stable...
Kelly and Tatia are looking at ornate carvings, one of which is of three monkeys.
TATIA: The carvings tell a story. It goes from there all the way around the corner. The monkey is looking at something far away. He's very young, very ambitious. Does that make you sad?
ROBINSON: No. Why should it?
TATIA: Well, I don't know. This island of serenity in a blood-splattered world.
ROBINSON: No, honey, there are a lot of brilliant men in this world who believe firmly that for all his achievement, Man will always be basically a murderous animal. I'm just grateful for the island of serenity.
TATIA: But it could be everywhere. I believe in a world where man can be a friend to man. Where all the little people of the world can come together.
She turns away but he takes her hand and swings her back into his arms.
ROBINSON: Hey. Come here.
They walk past the chambers leading to the Gokuden.
TATIA: So, if you get a bad fortune, you tie the paper to the branch of a tree, and when it falls off you lose your bad fortune.
ROBINSON: I think it's a great theory.
TATIA: How come you're not married?
ROBINSON: I beg your pardon?
ROBINSON: Very quick. Well, honey, I'm a tennis bum. Who'd want to marry a tennis bum?
TATIA: You're not really a tennis bum. I know what you are. A tennis champion.
ROBINSON: All right. I wish you'd tell that to the Tokyo National Bank, though. What about you?
TATIA: What about me?
ROBINSON: All what about you. From page one. Starting now.
TATIA: Okay. My parents didn't have me until they were old and comfortably settled in America. Then they spoiled me rotten. God bless the child who has his own.
ROBINSON: Was Loring your father's name?
TATIA: Lavisky. White Russian. They were from Petrograd first, and then Shanghai. They did everything I wanted. And then when I was eighteen I realized that and I started doing what they wanted me to.
ROBINSON: Like what?
TATIA: Well, they wanted me to study Asian history. So I did, in Tokyo. And I was a very good student. I had no boyfriends, no gentlemen callers.
ROBINSON: All right. The wonderfulness of your virtue.
TATIA: And then...my parents died. Within a month of each other. And, um, I went on a campaign to die, too. I kept falling in love. One man after another. Just like that, with any man who'd tell me he loved me. I desperately needed to hear that. And then I realized what a fool I was, and I...I shut it all off. Completely. And that's about it.
ROBINSON: Well, not quite. And then you started to earn your own living.
TATIA: Yeah, and I'm...very good at it. I mean it gives me a sense of, uh... (She notices that Kelly has been looking pensive, preoccupied.) You know what?
ROBINSON: What's that?
TATIA: I'm very hungry.
ROBINSON: Right. Okay. Let me offer you a picnic.
TATIA: That's a wonderful idea. I know a place.
Nikko National Park, on the banks of a river, tumbling into a picturesque waterfall...
Robinson goes to the very edge, picnic basket under his arm, while Tatia hangs back.
ROBINSON: You will give me temples and I will give you waterfalls. Hey. (He points to the woods across the river.) Is that a deer down there?
TATIA: I can't make it out.
ROBINSON: I've got a pair of glasses in the glove compartment.
Tatia returns to the convertible, leans over the door, opens the glove compartment. There is a pair of glasses -- and an automatic pistol. She picks up the pistol. Holding it down by her side, she walks back to the river.
Robinson looks up -- to see her pointing the pistol at him. Or is she holding it out to him?
TATIA: I found this in the car. Would you put it away, please? Before my whole day is spoiled?
ROBINSON: Sure. (Putting down the basket, he walks over to her and takes the gun.) I'm sorry, honey. I had no idea that guns made you that nervous. I wouldn't have left it there.
TATIA: I hate them. I've always hated them.
ROBINSON, looking back across the river: It wasn't what I thought. It was a young couple.
TATIA: I'm glad.
He kisses her, and she responds.
At the foot of the waterfall, later...
Kelly and Tatia are watching the water tumble down the slope; Tatia walks past him, seemingly troubled.
ROBINSON: Now, what's the matter this time?
TATIA: When were you going to tell me about it?
ROBINSON: About what?
TATIA: The gun.
ROBINSON: What gun?
TATIA: Why do you carry a gun?
ROBINSON, light-hearted: I don't carry a gun! It was in the glove compartment.
ROBINSON: In case of a samurai uprising. If those guys ever got together again...
TATIA: Don't play games with me. I think I love you. So don't play games with me.
ROBINSON: Why does it matter so much to you, hon?
TATIA: Because if you're in danger, I....If something's threatening you I want to know about it.
ROBINSON: Honey, it's very sweet of you but, uh, you're making a big thing out of nothing. I do a lot of night traveling on the tennis circuit and I like to have a little protection in the car. And I'm not in any danger. Mostly, my danger would come from girls who point guns at me.
TATIA: You weren't in any danger then.
ROBINSON: Oh, listen. Show me a beautiful woman with a gun in her hand who doesn't know anything about guns and I will show you extreme peril.
TATIA: Ah, but I know a lot about guns.
ROBINSON: You do, huh.
TATIA: I used to be engaged to an army officer. He taught me all about them. For one thing, I knew right away your gun wasn't loaded. The clip was empty, right? So, you see? You weren't in any danger.
On the grounds of a Shinto temple, among shrines and towering trees shrouded in mist...
Kelly is leaning against a tree, his arms around Tatia, who is resting her head on his chest, her eyes closed.
ROBINSON: Listen to me. You know a guy named Lyman? Or Wallace? Or Hanley?
TATIA: I don't understand.
ROBINSON: Lyman, Wallace or Hanley.
TATIA: Why do you ask me that, here and now?
ROBINSON: Do you know them?
ROBINSON: Uh hm. That's one of them.
TATIA: He's the one who was killed, wasn't he?
ROBINSON: Yeah. Stabbed.
TATIA: Yeah, I knew him. I knew all three of them. I photographed them.
ROBINSON: Did you know Wallace as well as you know me?
TATIA: No. No. Wait a minute. Lyman was a businessman. He was on his way to Saigon. I remember that. Wallace was a teacher. The college wanted me to photograph him. Lyman was very nice.
ROBINSON: What about Hanley? Was he very nice, too?
TATIA: Mmmm, so so. He was very uncomfortable when I was trying to photograph him. Why?
ROBINSON: Well, you remember Johnny Irving -- he mentioned somebody had asked him if he'd ever been photographed by you. Thought maybe you were being investigated on account of the Hanley thing.
TATIA: I'm being investigated? The only thing I know about Hanley is he was on his way to Saigon to sell dry processed food or something.
ROBINSON: That's all you know about him?
TATIA: Well, maybe not. What, dear? Darling, I didn't even know you then.
Kelly walks away. Tatia follows him, catches up at the top of stone steps in front of the temple.
TATIA: Kelly. I've fallen in love with a tennis bum. That's what's happened to me.
He puts his arm around her waist, and they start down the steps.
TATIA: Have you...ever thought about giving up tennis? Settling down?
ROBINSON: Oh, I suppose everybody has. I don't know what I'd do with myself. What about you? Would you be able to give up your photography?
TATIA: If I had to. For something lasting.
ROBINSON: I never had anything lasting.
TATIA: I haven't either.
ROBINSON, sighs: Kinda feels like it's my move.
TATIA: You know, the man I was telling you about -- the one I was engaged to -- he...he was killed doing work that I never even knew about.
ROBINSON: Uh hm.
TATIA: And even before that, there was something strange coming up between us. He was...he was secretive. He'd never confide in me. I always felt left out. It's the closeness. That's what I need, Kelly.
ROBINSON: I love you. Tash. Tatia. I commit to you.
She kisses him passionately.
Kelly and Scotty's hotel room...
Kelly is standing in front of a mirror, putting on a tie. Scott stands nearby.
SCOTT: Boy, you are really simple. Dumb! You're being tagged and you don't even know it.
ROBINSON: I gave her the sweet, clear chance to dump me. She could've done it in a second, and she picked neither one of them. What do you think of that?
SCOTT: Maybe she's pitching you for a double agent.
ROBINSON: All right. Wonderful. I'll pitch her right back. We could be one big happy family if you'd just learn to shutup!
SCOTT: You're going down to that room and have dinner with her alone.
ROBINSON: Oh! Gracious me. I thought I would, yes. Unless you'd like to bring several witnesses.
SCOTT: I'll bet you a hundred dollars that that room is bugged.
ROBINSON: Lay off!
SCOTT: Boy, you are really dumb!
Scott goes to the phone, picks it up.
SCOTT: Hello. Yes, this is Mr. Scott. Mr. Robinson and I will be, um, playing some sound effects records....Well, like a fight. You know. Noise. Glasses breaking, and things like that....Yeah. Well, uh, please pay it no mind. Thank you.
Scott hangs up the phone, walks over to the door, locks it, and stands in front of it. Finished with his tie, Kelly puts on his coat, walks across the room to face Scott.
ROBINSON: You're kidding.
SCOTT: Don't be smiling now. You're not going anywhere.
ROBINSON: Come on.
SCOTT: I got two choices, Man. I can let you go, and take the rap for being irresponsible. Or I can make you stay here, and play it safe.
ROBINSON: Come on, now. Get out of the door, Jack.
ROBINSON, heaves a big sigh: Get out of the way.
SCOTT: I said no, Man.
ROBINSON: Hey, come on, now. Scotty! Come on, get out of the way...
He moves in to grab Scott, but Scott sweeps a leg out from under him and shoves him to the floor.
SCOTT: I said no. Didn't I?
He backs off. Robinson gets up slowly, takes out a comb and runs it through his hair.
ROBINSON: I don't care how much you mess me up, Man. I'm going through that door. I got a date with a beautiful girl.
He drops the comb, starts to pick it up, but Scott gestures for him to stop, and bends down, warily, to get it. Robinson lashes out, taking him by collar and belt and flipping him head over heels, then moves to the door. He opens it, backs out, and as he turns Scott lunges out of the room, driving Robinson into the wall across the hallway. Then Scott drops to the floor and Robinson falls backwards over him. Grabbing Robinson by the legs, Scott proceeds to drag him back into the room as a couple turn the corner into the hallway.
SCOTT: Hi. Oh, my friend's back is itching, and he's having a difficult time scratching it.
ROBINSON: Only way I seem to get any relief.
Once he has Robinson back in the room, Scott kicks the door shuts, rolls Robinson over on his stomach.
ROBINSON, groaning: Oh. My shoulder.
SCOTT, easing up: What?
Robinson manages to flip Scott over and ends up sitting on his chest, bending both his wrists to keep him pinned.
ROBINSON: Now. You going to behave yourself? Are you going to behave yourself?
He stands, letting Scott up but keeping the wrists bent at a painful angle. Scott knees him in the midsection, and Robinson lets go, doubles over. Scott jumps on him, brings him down, and pins him, then grabs his tie and chokes him.
SCOTT: Maitta. Say maitta. [I'm beaten]. Come on!
Robinson flips over Scott onto his knees, then lifts Scott on his shoulders as he stands. Spinning around, he hurls Scott through the rice-paper panels dividing the rooms. Scott lays among the debris and doesn't get up as Robinson drops into a kenpo stance.
ROBINSON: Come on. Come on, you're breaking into my cocktail hour.
SCOTT: Go on. Get out of here. Go get yourself killed.
As Scott slowly gets to his feet, Robinson turns and heads for the door, picking up his comb on the way. He stops at the door, hesitates.
SCOTT: Well, you going or not?
ROBINSON: I'm going, I'm going.
SCOTT: Go ahead. Well?
ROBINSON: Will you lay off me if I can figure out a foolproof way to figure out...
SCOTT: What foolproof way? If she's an agent she's way ahead of you. What foolproof way are you talking about?
ROBINSON: It'll work. (He goes to the phone, picks it up.) Uh, what's the consul's number?
ROBINSON, into phone: Yeah. 4712, please. (To himself, without enthusiasm): It'll work.
Roderick is holding a knife to Tatia's throat.
RODERICK: You had two chances to kill him. You didn't. Why?
TATIA: There's a better way.
RODERICK: That's not good enough, Miss Loring. Really, not good enough at all.
TATIA: I'm trying to get the codebook.
RODERICK: By now you must realize the book is hopeless. So you see, I believe you're lying.
TATIA: No. I'm not lying. The codebook is more important than a dead agent.
RODERICK: You're in love with this man. A woman in love is unreliable. An unreliable woman is dangerous, pussycat.
TATIA, breaking free of him: Don't pussycat me! I'm in this because I want to be. Not for the money, like you.
RODERICK, putting away the knife: How touching. (He grabs her and sits her down, roughly, on the sofa.) Now let me tell you. You've got one night to make this love work for you. Or tomorrow you'll be enroute to Manchuria.
TATIA: No, no. I can't be hurried. I've got to find out the names, the names of everybody in his intelligence set-up, and I can't do it if you rush me.
RODERICK: This was a kill mission, pussycat, and you knew it.
TATIA: Just remember I was the one who made you suspect him in the first place. Now get out of here. Let me do my work.
RODERICK: Fu Yang and I will be right in there. (He gestures to an adjacent room.) This is our insurance. (He unclips his tie clasp, secrets it in the flower arrangement on the coffee table.) A transmitter that even picks up the sighs of women in love. So don't sigh too much, pussycat. It's very revealing.
Tatia's apartment, later that night...
Tatia emerges from another room carrying a tray that bears two glasses and champagne in an ice bucket. She is wearing a pink Japanese gown, sashed tightly at the waist. A knock at the door, and she opens it to find Kelly there, presenting her with a dozen roses in a box.
TATIA: For me?
ROBINSON: Yes, well, there's nobody else around.
TATIA: Is that what they always say in the movies?
ROBINSON: Uh, yes -- and this is what they always do in the movies.
He wraps his arms around her, kisses her. Then he sees the champagne, and leads her over to the coffee table.
ROBINSON: Ah! Oh, for me?
TATIA, laughing: Who else?
ROBINSON: Well, that's what they always say in the movies.
TATIA: And this is what they always do in the movies.
ROBINSON: I wish you would...
She throws her arms around his neck, kisses him.
ROBINSON: Mmm, boy, that smells good, whatever's for dinner.
TATIA, with a sigh: Kelly. Just hold me.
ROBINSON: Hey. What's the matter?
TATIA: How serious are we, Kel?
ROBINSON: Well, I don't know about you, but I will get seriouser by the second. (He kisses her again.)
TATIA: Enough...enough so that...
ROBINSON: So that what?
TATIA, sitting on the sofa: I got a cable this morning. I have to leave.
ROBINSON: You're kidding.
TATIA: No. I have to go to Saigon tomorrow.
ROBINSON, seeming stunned, sits down beside her: Oh. A job? (He reaches for the bottle of champagne, begins pouring two glasses.)
TATIA, nodding: Uh hm.
ROBINSON: I could try to get a tennis match in Saigon -- but they're not playing too much tennis over there these days.
TATIA: Why don't you work something out anyway? It would be so wonderful.
ROBINSON: Honey, I don't know how.
She looks very disappointed. He leans over and kisses her.
ROBINSON: How long you going to be gone?
TATIA: Maybe for...a long time. And my work is going to be awful.
ROBINSON: Why? What are you going to be doing?
TATIA: I'm going to be thinking about you.
ROBINSON: I'm going to be thinking about you. (He sips his champagne, she sips hers.)
TATIA: It just isn't fair. We've only just found each other. Couldn't you arrange something? You have connections, don't you?
ROBINSON, sighing: Some.
TATIA: I know a lot of people in Saigon. Maybe I could be...valuable to some of your connections.
ROBINSON: What do you mean. In what way valuable?
TATIA: Well...it's sort of far-fetched.
ROBINSON: What is far-fetched?
TATIA: Well, my father had friends all over Southeast Asia. And, uh, maybe I could...find out things. Information that might be valuable.
ROBINSON: What kind of...? What do you mean information? For what?
TATIA: Not...not for you, necessarily, but, uh, but for your connections.
ROBINSON: Honey, I really don't know what you're talking about.
TATIA: Don't you really?
ROBINSON: All right, now. Say what's on your mind.
TATIA: Well, things. Information. Stuff like that.
ROBINSON: What, you....what, you mean like...uh, espionage and that kind of information?
TATIA: I'd be willing. If you were with me.
ROBINSON: Oh, no, listen, that's no good, that kind of business. You don't mean that.
TATIA: Yes, I do. And I thought it all out. (She gets up, walks around the coffee table to kneel on the floor in front of him.)
ROBINSON: Tash, will you behave yourself? What are you doing?
TATIA: You can arrange it. I know you can. Then we'd be working together. It would be dangerous, but I wouldn't mind.
ROBINSON: You like danger, do you?
TATIA: I'd like anything with you. I'd do anything you want me to.
ROBINSON: Uh, excuse me for asking, but what gives you the idea I know anything about that kind of stuff?
ROBINSON: I see. Intuition. I hate to put down your intuition, but I....
TATIA: Darling, listen to me. I just want us to be together. If you don't want to get married, it's okay. I don't want to lose you, that's what I'm trying to say. And I want us to be close, always. No secrets between us.
ROBINSON: What do you mean? What secrets?
TATIA: If there was a part of you you couldn't share, with anyone. But I can accept anything. Anything. If you'll just be honest with me. I want to be your woman. I don't want anything to come between us.
ROBINSON: It won't. (They kiss again.)
TATIA, her lips against his: Oh, Kel. I love you so much.
ROBINSON: I love you, Tash. Remember that. I, uh, do have some contacts. (He lets go of her hands, gets up, walks across the room.) Okay, once in a while I will, uh, run an errand for one of 'em. As a matter of fact I am on an errand right now, if you want to know, nosy.
TATIA: An errand?
ROBINSON: Ellworth, at the American embassy. He knew I was coming by. He asked me to drop this off. (He walks toward her, taking a packet from his coat pocket, kneels beside her.) There's your airplane ticket. (He puts a ticket on the coffee table.) And I guess you won't be needing that anymore. And there's the ten thousand. (He puts a wad of cash on the table.) He said thank you very much. You did a wonderful job for us.
TATIA: I don't...
ROBINSON: So, no more jokes, okay?
TATIA: What do you mean? I...I don't know anything about any tickets...
ROBINSON: Oh, come on, honey. He said you'd know all about it, and he said thank you very much for your services, but they just weren't needed anymore.
TATIA, horrified: Oh, Kelly. Oh, Kelly...
ROBINSON: What's the matter?
TATIA: What are you doing to me?
ROBINSON: What are you talking about? I'm just delivering the thing.
TATIA, starting to cry: Oh my God, Kelly.
ROBINSON: Honey, what's wrong?
TATIA: Oh, Kelly! Oh, no!
ROBINSON: What is it?
TATIA, shouting into the flower arrangement: I swear I never had any contact with them! I swear! I'm on our side! I've always been loyal to our cause!
ROBINSON: Tash! Tash, what are you saying?
TATIA: I never had anything to do with them!
ROBINSON: Tatia! (He stands, slowly backs away.)
TATIA, sobbing: I never had anything to do with them! I swear! Tell them it's a trick, Kelly! Oh, no! I swear I never had any contact! Come back, Kelly! I never...
Kelly turns his back on her, opens the door, and slowly walks out.
In the hallway outside...
In a daze, Kelly stands outside Tatia's door for a moment. Scotty comes around a corner, stops, and Kelly walks towards him. Two uniformed policemen pass between them on the way to Tatia's apartment.
SCOTT: I'm sorry, Kel, but I had to have police. There were murders and she's involved in them.
Kelly walks on by him without a word. Scotty catches up with him.
SCOTT: Listen, how'd you like to punch me in the mouth?
ROBINSON: Do me a favor. Don't talk.
SCOTT: Come on, Man, take a shot. Do something! Come on! (He dances around in front of Robinson like a boxer) Hey, come on. Take one. There it is. You got it....
Kelly takes a swing. Scott ducks under it, catches his friend, straightens him up, brushes off his jacket, fixes his tie. They turn a corner out of sight, side by side.
(transcribed by Jason M., August 2002)