TRANSCRIPTION FROM TAPE SEC-3JUN68-IM-01:48-PM-142C. Premises of Ingrid Macht, 627 West Twenty-fourth Street, New York.
INGRID: Come in, Schatzie.
ANDERSON: Glasses? You’re wearing glasses now?
INGRID: For perhaps a year. Only for reading. You like them?
ANDERSON: Yes. You’re doing something?
INGRID: I am just finishing my breakfast. I slept late today. Coffee?
ANDERSON: All right. Black.
[Lapse of one minute thirteen seconds.]
INGRID: A little brandy perhaps?
ANDERSON: Fine. You join me?
INGRID: Thank you, no. I will take a sip of yours.
ANDERSON: Then you’ll tell me I drink too much, and meanwhile you’re sipping half my booze.
INGRID: Oh, Schatzie, when did I ever tell you that you drank too much? When did I ever criticize anything you do?
ANDERSON: Never … that I can remember. I was just kidding you. Don’t be so serious. You have no sense of humor.
INGRID: That is true. Is something bothering you?
ANDERSON: No. Why?
INGRID: You have a look I recognize. Something in your eyes—faraway. You are thinking very hard about something. Do I guess right?
ANDERSON: Maybe.
INGRID: Please do not tell me. I want to know absolutely nothing. I do not wish to go through all that again. You understand?
ANDERSON: Sure. Sit on my lap. No … leave your glasses on.
INGRID: You do like them?
ANDERSON: Yes. When I was down South I had an idea of what a big-city woman was like. I could see her. Very thin. Not too tall. Hard. Bony. Open eyes. Pale lips. And heavy, black-rimmed glasses.
INGRID: A strange dream for a man to have. Usually it is a sweet, plump little blonde with big tits.
ANDERSON: Well, that was my dream. And long, straight black hair that hung to her waist.
INGRID: I have a wig like that.
ANDERSON: I know. I gave it to you.
INGRID: So you did, Schatzie. I had forgotten. Shall I put it on?
ANDERSON: Yes.
[Lapse of four minutes fourteen seconds.]
INGRID: So. Am I now your dream?
ANDERSON: Close. Very close. Sit here again.
INGRID: And what have you brought me today, Duke … another cigarette lighter?
ANDERSON: No. I brought you a hundred dollars.
INGRID: That is nice. I like money.
ANDERSON: I know. More stocks?
INGRID: Of course. I have been doing very well. My broker tells me I have an instinct for trading.
ANDERSON: I could have told him that. Am I hurting you?
INGRID: No. Perhaps we should go into the bedroom.
[Lapse of two minutes thirty-four seconds.]
INGRID: You are thinner … and harder. This scar … you told me once but I have forgotten.
ANDERSON: Knife fight.
INGRID: Did you kill him?
ANDERSON: Yes.
INGRID: Why did you fight?
ANDERSON: I forget. At the time it seemed important. Do you want me to give you the money now?
INGRID: Do not be nasty, Duke. It is not like you.
ANDERSON: Then start. Jesus, I need it. I’ve got to get out.
INGRID: Getting out—that is so important to you?
ANDERSON: I need it. I’m hooked. Slowly. …
INGRID: Of course. No … I told you, don’t close your eyes. Look at me.
ANDERSON: Yes. All right.
INGRID: You know, I think I shall write a book. Relax your muscles, Schatzie; you are too tense.
ANDERSON: All right … yes. Is that better?
INGRID: Much. See … isn’t that better?
ANDERSON: Oh, God, yes. Yes. A book about what?
INGRID: About pain and about crime. You know, I think criminals—most criminals—do what they do so that they may cause pain to someone. Also, so that they may be caught and be punished. To cause pain and to feel pain. That is why they lie, cheat, steal, and kill.
ANDERSON: Yes
INGRID: Look … I will tie my long, black hair about you. I will pull it tight and knot it … like so. There. How funny you look … like a strange Christmas package, a gift. …
ANDERSON: It’s starting. I can feel it. …
INGRID: You are getting out?
ANDERSON: Slowly. You may be right. I don’t know about those things. But it makes sense. When I was inside I met a guy who drew a minimum of thirty. He would have gotten eight to ten, but he hurt the people he robbed. He didn’t have to. They gave him everything he wanted. They didn’t yell. But he hurt them bad. And then he left his prints all over the place
INGRID: Yes, that is understandable. You are tensing up again, Schatzie. Relax. Yes, that is better. And now. …
ANDERSON: Oh, God, Ingrid, please … please don’t. …
INGRID: First you beg me to start, and then you beg me to stop. But I must help you to get out. Is that not so, Duke?
ANDERSON: You are the only one who can do it … the only one. …
INGRID: So. … Now, bite down hard and try not to scream. There … and there …
ANDERSON: Your teeth … I can’t … please, I … oh God …
INGRID: Just a little more. You are getting out … I can see it in your eyes. Just a little more. And now … so … so. … Oh, you are getting out now, Duke … are you not? Yes, now you have escaped. But not me, Duke … not me. …