TRANSCRIPTION OF TAPE RECORDING POM-14JUN68-EVERLEIGH. Approximately 2:10 A.M.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Did the doorman see you come in?
ANDERSON: He wasn’t there.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: The bastard. We’re supposed to get twenty-four-hour doorman service, and this bastard is always down in the basement drinking wine with that drunken super. Brandy?
ANDERSON: Yes.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Yes, please.
ANDERSON: Go fuck yourself.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: My, we’re in a pleasant mood tonight. Tired?
ANDERSON: Just my eyes.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: I think it’s more than that. You look like a man who’s got a lot on his mind. Money problems?
ANDERSON: No.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: If you need some money, I can let you have some.
ANDERSON: No … thanks.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: That’s better. Drink up. I bought a case of Remy Martin. What are you smiling about?
ANDERSON: You figure this will last for a case?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: What’s that supposed to mean? You want to cut out? Then cut out.
ANDERSON: I didn’t want to cut out. I just figured you might get tired of me slamming you around. Are you tired of it?
[Lapse of seven seconds.]
MRS. EVERLEIGH: No. I’m not tired of it. I think about it all the time. When I was in Paris, I missed you. One night I could have screamed, I wanted you so bad. I got a million things on my mind. Business things. Details. Pressure. I’m only as good as my last season. I work for the worst bastards in the business—the worst. I only relax when I’m with you. I think about you during the day, when I’m at the office. I think about what we did and what we’ll do. I don’t suppose I should be telling you these things.
ANDERSON: Why not?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: A girl’s supposed to play hard to get.
ANDERSON: Christ, you’re a stupid bitch.
[Lapse of five seconds.]
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Yes. Yes, I am. When it comes to you. You’ve been in prison, haven’t you?
ANDERSON: Reform school. When I was a kid. I stole a car.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: And you haven’t been in since?
ANDERSON: No. What makes you think so?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: I don’t know. Your eyes, maybe. Those Chinese eyes. The way you talk. Or don’t talk. Sometimes you frighten me.
ANDERSON: Do I?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Here’s the bottle. Help yourself. Are you hungry? I can fix you a roast beef sandwich.
ANDERSON: I’m not hungry. You going on another trip?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Why do you ask?
ANDERSON: Just making conversation.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: I’ve been invited out to Southampton for the July Fourth weekend. Then, late in August and over the Labor Day weekend I’ll be going to Rome. May I sit on the couch next to you?
ANDERSON: No.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: That’s what I like—a romantic man.
ANDERSON: If I was a romantic man you wouldn’t bother with me.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: I suppose not. Still, it would be nice to know, occasionally, that you’re human.
ANDERSON: I’m human. Sit on the floor.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Here?
ANDERSON: Closer. In front of me.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Here, darling?
ANDERSON: Yes. Take off my shoes and socks.
[Lapse of fourteen seconds.]
MRS. EVERLEIGH: I’ve never seen your feet before. How white they are. Your toes look like white worms.
ANDERSON: Take off that thing.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: What are you going to do?
ANDERSON: I’m going to make you forget the bastards you work for, the business, the details, the pressure. That’s what you want … isn’t it?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Part of it.
ANDERSON: What’s the other part?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: I want to forget who I am and what I am. I want to forget you and what I’m doing with my life.
ANDERSON: You want to get out?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Get out? Yes. I want to get out.
ANDERSON: You’ve got a good sun tan. Take the robe off.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Like this?
ANDERSON: Yes. God, you’re big. Big tits and big ass.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Duke … be nice to me … please.
ANDERSON: Nice to you? Is that what you want?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Not … you know … not physically. You can do anything you want. Anything. But be nice to me as a person … as a human being.
ANDERSON: I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Spread out.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.
ANDERSON: Go ahead. Puke all over yourself.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: You’re not human. You’re not.
ANDERSON: All right. So I’m not. But I’m the only man in the world who can get you out. Spread wider.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Like this? Is this all right, Duke?
ANDERSON: Yes.
[Lapse of one minute eight seconds.]
MRS. EVERLEIGH: You’re hurting me, you’re hurting me.
ANDERSON: Sure.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: White worms.
ANDERSON: That’s right. Getting out?
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Yes … yes …
ANDERSON: You’ve got a body like mush.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Please, Duke. …
ANDERSON: You’re a puddle.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Please, Duke. …
ANDERSON: “Please, Duke. Please Duke.” Stupid bitch.
MRS. EVERLEIGH: Please, I. …
ANDERSON: There. Isn’t that nice? Now I’m being nice to you as a person. As a human being. Right?