Transcripts - Forever Dreaming

(Whines)

(growls)

(man over PA) Last call
for the howling contest, folks.

It's now or never
for the singing basset hounds.

(Dogs howling)

Most Original Basset Hound Costumes
are now being paraded.

Ladies and gentlemen, the parade
of the Hero Basset Hound Owners.

Each and every owner in this event

rescued his or her dog from the
pound or took it in as a stray.

Come on.

Let's hear it for the
happy basset hounds.

Oh, yes!

Oh, thank you very much.

See? See, sweetheart, huh?

- Mine's named King Archibald.
- This one, his name is Dog.

- Excuse me?
- He's a dog, so we call him Dog.

King Archibald's won over awards.
How many has Dog won?

Including this one, if you count
'em all up, it comes out to one.

- One award.
- Oh, really?

Well, my dog, maybe he's not
the most beautiful dog in the world,

and plenty of other dogs are a lot smarter,

but if they ever gave an award
for the loving department,

he would win the grand prize.

When it comes to loving, this dog is
the champion. Aren't you, sweetheart?

(Snarls)

You OK?

(Opera music)

(man) Consider the nature
of a beautiful woman.

Nose of a certain average shape.

The dimension between her eyes
gloriously average.

Distance from nose tip to chin dimple
average perfection.

Now, if each feature in every respect
is exquisitely average,

then we call that woman beautiful.

Thus the trick that nature plays
upon mankind and the artist

is to reveal the average as breathtaking.

- You understand, Julie?
- My back hurts.

- It's supposed to hurt.
- I'm hungry.

- Always.
- I'm bored.

- Forever bored.
- I'm not bored in bed.

- So I've noticed.
- Tell me a story.

Very well. Once upon a time
there was a worthless sl*t.

She'd rather eat than sleep
and rather sleep than work,

so she was rather stupid.

Good. I like her.
Was she very beautiful?

Yes. Her face was very beautiful.
So was her body.

That's why this great artist chose her
to be his model. Sit still, Julie.

Will your model
lead a long and happy life?

- Long and miserable, I should think.
- Do you love her, Max?

- Of course.
- For her body?

- Or her soul?
- You have no detectable soul.

Enough of this.
Go to your room, Julie.

I have a wife to attend to.

Your first wife or your second wife, Max?

It's all the same.

Good, Vanessa. Perfect, Vanessa.
Everything is in its place.

I want your house to please you, Max.
Does it please you?

Who am I to be pleased?
Every man lives in his wife's house.

- You should be satisfied.
- Well, I'm not.

Ah! Mrs Max Barsini is dissatisfied.

A shocking state of affairs.

Tell me, what is it you need
to make your life complete?

- Everything.
- Ah, Louise.

- Good afternoon, my darling.
- Afternoon, Max.

- Afternoon, Vanessa.
- Good afternoon, Louise.

Well, what seems to be the trouble?

You are adored, cherished,

appreciated, admired,
pretty as a picture.

- My wife.
- Second wife.

That cannot be helped.
You're an investment broker.

We grow wealthier by the hour.

See how it all works out,
with you, Louise, little Julie?

You all give richness to my life.
I'm blessed.

- When will you be done with Julie?
- The paintings or the friendship?

The paintings. They're due in New York
next week. Leon calls every day.

In that case, only you can give me
the strength to continue.

- Tell me that you love me.
- You know that I do.

- You're a remarkable woman.
- I just adjust well.

Louise, I'm lonely.
Come and be a wife to me.

I'm only your first wife, Max.
Vanessa's your wife now.

I refuse to accept
this constant hair-splitting.

- Tell me what you're thinking about.
- Your dinner, Max.

Ah! Everything in its place.

- Thank you, Louise!
- You're welcome, Max.

Are we alone, Max?

Almost. Come, fill up my life.

- What are you thinking about, Max?
- Contentment.

- Tonight, Max, your favourite.
- Louise's bread.

- Louise's salad.
- Louise's surprise.

Cioppino.

Mm.

And now we share the pleasures
of the table, our happy little family.

Silence? Cioppino is never
to be taken in silence.

You should chatter
like delighted sparrows.

Instead you stifle yourselves
with thoughts?

I want you to love each other as sisters,
and what I get is thoughts.

I see I'll have to set you a subject,
like schoolgirls. Very well.

Each of you is to tell us how she feels
about the other two. I command it.

Julie, tell us about Louise and Vanessa.

I like Louise.
She's kind and wise.

I wish she had been my mother.
And she knows how to make you happy.

- Well, I was Max's wife for many years.
- You're still my wife.

And Vanessa?

She's cold to me. I want her to like me,
but I make her nervous.

- She wants me out of here.
- I thought we were past all that.

Max, you're the one
that'll want her out of here.

Louise told us about your models.
After a few months, you can't stand them.

- You were his model.
- I was different.

I made myself indispensable.

More than paint on a canvas
or a girl in his bed.

I think Julie pretends to be
a simple-minded little tart,

soaking up all your insults,
but she's just as ambitious as I was,

and that frightens me.

And Louise, she's a part of your life
you'll never give up.

And that frightens me, too.
I don't know where all this is going.

- And so you sulk.
- I don't sulk.

- You're sulking now.
- I am not!

- Louise, tell Vanessa she's sulking.
- She's suffering, Max.

We all suffer a little. Vanessa wanted
to wear your name like a diamond tiara.

Mrs Max Barsini.

Now she knows that if she asks for more,
she'll end up with nothing.

She didn't bargain for this.

Neither did I when you divorced me
and moved next door with Vanessa.

And our model?

The child's so young, she doesn't
understand what a monster you truly are.

So, it's all my doing, huh?
All this silent suffering?

Not at all. My darling Max.

We all want something from you.

In the end I suppose we'll get something.

Even if it's just a little attention
from the master.

Still, I love you all.

I sacrifice myself
on the altar of your selfishness.

Come, child!
We have paintings to paint.

Leon orders it in New York.

Vanessa commands it.

The vixen paintings must be completed.
To work, immediately.

- (Door closes)
- He'll spend the night with her.

Well, in that case,
he won't miss me.

And I have other plans.

- Good night, Vanessa.
- Good night, Louise.

(Max) Thank you, little one.
That will be all for tonight.

Max, why do you call them
your vixen paintings?

To sell them.
It makes a story to go with the paint.

Infatuation and betrayal,
The vixen who blighted my life.

- My paintings will make your fortune.
- But I'm really very nice.

Then together we'll trick the world.

(Man) Good night, Louise.

(Door closes)

Bloody hell!

Good evening, Doctor.

- Do we know each other?
- Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

I've made it my business to know you,
Dr Sidney Hammer.

- Psychiatrist, I believe.
- Psychologist.

Right. Psychologist.

I thought you'd finished running barefoot
through Louise's head.

- You're Barsini.
- Am I? Good for you, Sidney.

What's your business here?

If I were you,
I think I'd discuss that with Louise.

But you're not me.

Nobody on God's earth is me!

I'm not even me!

Hello, pet.

- Heard you bellowing out there.
- Was I crass and cruel?

About average.

- That psychiatrist of yours...
- Psychologist.

The suitcases. His?

- Mine.
- Signifying what?

- I love him, Max.
- That feeble mind-pumper?

I'm going to live with him.

- When?
- I leave in a couple of days.

Well... you might have told me
something about it.

- I planned to after the cioppino.
- So that was our last cioppino.

Oh, for heaven's sakes!

Well, you're a divorced woman.
You're free to do as you please.

Oh, no. No, I've never
been free to do that, Max.

First as your wife, then as your...
whatever the hell we are to each other.

All of us. Your women.

Lots of women.
I never lied to you about that.

No, never.

And I never had a will of my own.

Or whatever it took
to resist your invading force.

All your whims and wiles.
I was ashamed to be so weak.

Really? I thought submission suited you.

You know, you're put together differently
than other men, Max.

Your heart. Where most people have
a left ventricle, you have a jackhammer.

That's why I went to Sidney,
to find the strength to match yours,

to make a fond farewell,
put out the lights and walk away.

You'll do that?

Oh, yes.

The spell's broken, Max.

I'm all grown up.

Look.

Dead steady. Not a tremor.

Easy as pie.

- Rubbish! You belong to me.
- I belong to me.

But not to him.

Louise, Louise. Don't leave me.

Poor Max. I've been vanishing for months.
You never noticed.

That's because you never loved me
in the first place.

Oh, didn't I? How many other women
would have done what I did?

When you did what you...

What did I do, Louise?

We never talk about that.
I made myself believe it never happened.

We both believe it never happened.

And Sidney...
when he pokes around your head,

do you ever speak
about what has never happened?

- No!
- Louise.

When you swim in your secret place,
just by yourself...

do you wonder then if you'll ever tell?

- You're hurting me, Max.
- Remember the pain, Louise.

And then remember the word "never".
"Never"!

Don't go with him, Louise.
Stay with me.

Why? Or you'll do to me
what you did to...

Oh, I'm sorry, Max.

God, we're threatening one another.

We're saying things
that should never be said.

- It's emotional.
- Yes.

Partings.

Let's not say any more.

Sleep tight, Louise.

(Max) Ah, Louise.
Good afternoon, my darling.

(Louise) Afternoon, Max.

(Max)..."never". "Never"!

Never.

(opera music)

- Thank you, gentlemen.
- See you, Vito.

- Psst.
- Huh?

- Right there, at the end of the bar.
- Yeah?

Is that Barsini, the artist?

Uh, it seems.

- Max Barsini?
- I think so.

They say he used to live here,
a long time ago.

Lived, worked and drank.

I wonder if he'd mind
if I paid my respects.

- I wouldn't.
- Well, just to say hello.

What could he do?

Smash you in the nose, break your ribs,
kick you in the groin.

He's a very private man.

Who needs him!

- Thank you, Vito.
- Hey.

After all these years, Max,
I haven't forgotten your ways.

I haven't forgotten your kindness
to a poor artist and his wife.

- Our old home still up there?
- Mm.

See for yourself.
Louise, is she well?

- Very well. Business?
- Magnificent.

- Lousy.
- Lousy.

They don't come around any more.

They prefer their white wine with quiche
and their hi-damn-tech.

And if I offered a little gift of money, Vito?
Make the place hi tech.

To hell with them.
Keep your money.

A painting, then.
A genuine Barsini to say my thanks.

This place. Vito's place. Sell it,
hang it on the wall, whatever you like.

Let them come, drink
and marvel at the Barsini.

- You... You would do that for me?
- My pleasure, Vito.

When? Now?

Well, these things take time,
you know, many hours.

Perhaps I'll begin tomorrow?
No audience. No customers.

- No way.
- The whole place closed.

None. Everything as you prefer.

Max, I already got you on the wall.
Look here.

Here you are, with Louise,
when you were living here.

- (Max) Harry Chudnow.
- Harry with the monocle.

Your first art dealer.
He was the real deal, that guy.

Fancy English. "I say there, will you
drink it down the hatch, old boy?"

And then he'd drink himself senseless.
Do you remember that?

I remember, Vito.

- (Max) Whatever happened to him?
- Who knows? Good luck, Harry.

- I'll look upstairs.
- Go see, Max.

(Vanessa knocks) Max?

A moment.

Come in, Vanessa.

- What are you working on?
- The vixen paintings.

- Can I see?
- You know the rule.

- Julie's gone into town?
- Yes.

You look very nice.
A new negligee?

I haven't forgotten how to pose.
I can take it off.

I'd be lost forever, the work delayed,
Leon shrieking in New York.

- You'd never forgive me.
- Try me.

- Later.
- Promise?

With all my heart.

Perfume. It makes me drunk.
Let me have it.

- Soon.
- A twinkling.

- You are going to begin?
- Yes.

- What can I bring you? Food?
- Nothing.

A drink?

I am about to try and produce a painting
out of this terrifying nothingness.

Interrupt my labours once,
even to tell me the place is on fire,

and I'll grind your guts and bones
into a new set of paints.

This I promise as a loving friend. Go!

I'm gone! All right, all right!

Hello, Louise!

Can I join you?

No, Max!

Please. That was no way
to part the other night.

I knew I'd find you here -
your secret place.

Let's swim together.

It was an ugly night, Max.

You know I'd never
do anything to hurt you.

Come, pet. Sit next to me.

Then we'll swim together
and separate as friends.

I'm glad.

Lean back, pet.

Close your eyes.

Now hear what I have to tell you.
Don't look at me or I'll lose my way.

(Louise) Hmm.

I acknowledge that you're no longer
my wife, not even my divorced wife.

Go to Sidney in happiness.
I set you free.

Now I will tell you a lie.

You are no longer precious to me.
You are no longer my chalice of memory.

My pet. My Louise.

My pet.

You will never hurt me, Louise.

Max.

Max, I don't care.
It's too much. It's too long.

I'm Italian. I have to bring food.

Vito.

You were warned.

Max, please. What can I do?

What can I do? I...

Lucky for you, it's finished.

Oh! This is beautiful!
Beautiful, Max! It's beautiful!

Not so bad.

I think it came out suitably, don't you?

- You the one who found the body?
- Yes, sir.

Wait over there.

Yes. Louise.

- Can you come with me, sir?
- What?

You're gonna have to come with me.

Lieutenant's down on the beach.
He'll wanna talk to you.

All right, it's nearly gone.

Oh! All gone.

Everybody can't have a free lunch.

- Mr Barsini?
- Yes.

Lieutenant Columbo. Homicide.

How do you do, sir?

I wish I could say this
under more pleasant circumstances,

but it's an honour to meet
a great painter such as yourself.

Painters do walls, Lieutenant.
Some people regard me as an artist.

Well, you certainly are that, sir.
The whole world knows that.

The lady on the beach, sir,
you've identified her as your wife?

She was my wife.
Her car's up there.

- And those are her things?
- Yes.

Louise.

This was her favourite place to swim.
She came here almost every afternoon.

Incredible.

Sometimes I would join her.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon, into the
evening, with a friend painting a picture.

A bar, of all places.
I never even saw her yesterday.

Well, blaming yourself, sir,
that's not gonna help anything.

Would you say that Mrs Barsini
was a strong swimmer?

Excellent. I don't see
how she could have drowned.

Well, it happens, sir. A cramp,
an undertow. There's no telling.

Those are the things we have to look into.

- Especially the contact lenses.
- Excuse me?

When I examined the body, sir -
that's something that we have to do...

she was wearing one contact lens.

- Yes, Louise wore contact lenses.
- Just one, sir?

Obviously the other one
was washed away.

Well, that's what I told myself
until I found this.

It was there, in her beach bag.
I got it right here.

Maybe I left it in the bag.

Oh, no. Here it is.

See this, sir? This is one of those
double boxes for contact lenses.

And here, right here,
there's the other lens, sir.

- I don't understand.
- Well, neither do I.

Mrs Barsini, she was gonna
go out to the ocean,

and she took one lens out
but she kept the other one in her eye.

Why would she do a thing like that?

- A whim? Forgetfulness?
- Maybe an interruption.

Anxiety to plunge into the sea.

The evidence boys are gonna look around,

but don't you worry, sir,
it'll all be explained.

Now, if you'll just drive your wife's car,
I'll follow along.

There'll be a few more questions, sir,
if you don't mind.

Not at all. In a manner of speaking,
Lieutenant, we both enjoy the same talent.

- I don't know how that could be, sir.
- We both know how to see the world.

Truly see.
The contact lenses, that's remarkable.

Oh, I'm just doing my job, sir.

I think you're going a little far
comparing me with you,

but it was very nice of you to say so,
and I'm gonna tell that to my wife.

- Mr Barsini...
- Max!

Max, I've just heard.
What a terrible, terrible thing.

- I know, my pet. I know.
- Oh, Max, I want you. I need you.

- Uh, Mr Barsini.
- (Julie) Max!

- Max, I feel so bad.
- Come here, my pet. We all loved her.

I love you.

Holy cow!

My darling. We'll walk.

(Footsteps)

Ma'am? Excuse me! Ma'am?

I'm Lieutenant Columbo.
I'm with the police. The drowning.

Yes, Lieutenant. I'm Mrs Barsini.

- You are?
- That's a fact.

- Then who was that that drowned, then?
- That was Max's first wife.

I'm his present wife, Vanessa Barsini.

- And she lived right next door?
- Yes, Lieutenant. We were rather close.

Right, right.

Well, that explains it, ma'am.
Thank you very much.

Ma'am, the young girl... who's she?

Julie is Max's model.
She lives with us.

In the same house?
And the first wife lived there?

When she wasn't over here.
Is there anything else, Lieutenant?

No. No, not for now.
That's enough for now, ma'am.

Goodbye, ma'am.

Lieutenant Columbo, sir.
The drowning.

Come in, Lieutenant. I'm Dr Hammer.
I just got here myself.

When they told me about Louise,
I didn't know what else to do.

- Were you her physician, Doctor?
- Psychologist.

We were lovers.
We were planning to live together.

Well, isn't that a little unusual, sir,
a psychologist and his patient?

We broke off our professional relationship
and met again a few months ago.

I assure you,
everything was completely ethical.

Is there any way I can help you,
Lieutenant?

Well, Doctor, in cases like this, for our
report we usually check for su1c1de notes.

No, no. I've already looked around.

Physically, emotionally,
Louise was a healthy woman.

But she did consult with a psychologist.

Well, I suppose the condition I treated her
for was her husband, her former husband.

That man insisted they were still married
and demanded his privileges.

He was married again, that model living
with them. God knows what went on.

Well, I guess we can call that
an unconventional lifestyle, sir.

Demented, if you ask me.

Who is demented, Sidney?

- I've got nothing to say to you.
- No condolences? No grief?

From one lover to another?

Nothing but disgust.
Good day, Lieutenant.

Finicky chap, our Sidney.

If he owned a shoe store,
he'd buy all the shoes to fit his own feet.

You mentioned something
about further questions.

Well, sir, Dr Hammer
has answered some of them.

Look up, Lieutenant.
Not at me. Your profile.

- Like this, sir?
- Hmm...

Now full face.

Here.

Light over my shoulder.

Your features... Character.

Homicide policeman who's experienced
everything that life can uncover.

It would be a privilege to paint you
someday, if you'd sit for me.

You paint me?!

My pleasure, Lieutenant.
We can begin when we both have time.

Well, I'll be darned.

You wanna paint me?!

Wait till I tell my Mrs Columbo.

And I'm gonna tell her right now
because all the questions that I had,

they just popped right out of my head.

- What a pity.
- I'll be darned.

- You won't forget, will you, sir?
- I'm working on the composition now.

I have time now, sir.

Alas, I have not.
The press of prior commitments.

Right.

Oh, I know what I wanted to ask you.
Those contact lenses.

Did Mrs Barsini usually take out the lenses
before she went swimming?

- I think not.
- Most people do.

Well, you ought to know, sir.
You swam with her. Thank you very much.

Oh, that place where you were painting
yesterday, where was that, sir?

That's a place in Old Los Angeles.
Vito's bar.

Vito's bar. Thank you very much, sir.

And I'm ready to pose for you
whenever you're ready.

- Things'll be different without Louise.
- You frightened me.

Max is gonna need me even more now.

- Will you be my friend now?
- He'll throw you out, you know.

- Once the paintings are finished.
- And what if he doesn't?

- I'll see that he does.
- Oh, my. Such a strong manager.

- You're the one who's going to go.
- You little tramp!

Tramp? You're a street walker
with an adding machine.

- I happen to be his wife.
- Without Louise, you'll make a mistake.

Louise could cook.
I can make him richer.

- What does he need you for?
- Well, come and watch us some night.

- Alley cat!
- Money grabber!

- Brat!
- Witch!

- Bimbo!
- Shrew!

- Doxy!
- You push him too far!

- He's already losing interest in you.
- In the end he'll choose me.

- Enough!
- (Both yell at once)

Quiet, the both of you!
You should be ashamed.

Louise not even in her grave
and you carry on like fishwives.

Is this the way to comfort me?
When I need love, all I get is squabbling?

Out! Make yourselves useful.
Cook! Pray for Louise!

Wash my clothes!

Ah, Louise.

I can take you now, Lieutenant.

Thank you very much, Doctor.

Couch, Lieutenant. Patients decide the first
time whether to lie there or sit here.

- Which do you prefer?
- Excuse me, sir?

To discuss your problem.
You said you wanted to see me.

That'll be about my report, Dr Hammer.
It's nothing personal.

My report on the drowning.

Accidental drownings,
they want a whole life history.

Falling down the stairs, you wouldn't
believe the reports they want.

I guess it's for statistics.

So... I think I'll take the chair.

I see. Well, in that case,
I've had a busy morning

and a sleepless night
thinking about Louise,

so, if you won't mind, I'm just gonna
stretch out here for a few minutes.

- Not at all, sir. Go right ahead.
- (Sighs)

- I'm gonna miss her.
- I think I know exactly what you mean.

Thank you for being understanding.

Doctor, you said that Mrs Barsini
first came here because of her husband.

Uh... Ex-husband.
Was there anything else, sir?

Well, I suppose with Louise gone,
these things can be discussed.

She complained of terrifying dreams.
Nightmares.

I... I'm afraid I forget the details.

Well, try to remember, sir.

Sometimes it helps if you just say
the first thing that pops into your head.

Well, I remember I was having difficulty
interpreting the dreams.

I always felt Louise
was repressing something.

- Holding back?
- Hiding behind a memory.

That made the analysis more difficult.
Dreams are tough enough to deal with.

It's like a riddle
inside a code inside a cipher.

It's real detective work.
Everything upside down and reversed.

The nightmares, sir. Can you tell me
more about the nightmares?

Well, if you're interested,
I suppose Louise could tell you herself.

I encouraged her to keep
a tape machine next to the bed

so that she could describe the dreams
as soon as possible on waking up.

I'll see if I can dig up
one or two of the tapes for you.

There were three different
recurring nightmares.

Oddly enough, each began with a knock
on the door in the middle of the night.

That place,
that bar where she lived with Barsini.

Something terrible must have happened
she couldn't talk about.

Did you say a bar, sir?

Yeah, but I don't remember
the name of the place.

Could that have been Vito's bar?

That's right. Vito's bar.

Doctor, you've done very well.

A genuine Barsini. A masterpiece,
Lieutenant. That's what a friend does.

In the old days when he was living here,
he was unknown, a suffering artist.

Ah, and that's when
he was living with Louise.

Now he comes back, and look
what he does. I'm gonna show you!

(Chuckles gleefully)

- For me.
- Well, that certainly is a Barsini, sir.

Sir, you see that red?
That's a special red.

That red, that's Barsini red.
He mixes that himself.

Himself?

He grinds it up
with some special ingredient.

- That's incredible.
- And he doesn't always use it.

And never with nudes.
It's an idiosyncrasy. I read about that.

- A Barsini nude, no Barsini red.
- That's interesting.

Idiosyncrasy. He's gonna do my portrait.
Did I tell you he's gonna paint me?

- In the nude?
- No.

- Oh, Lieutenant, I thought for a minute...
- No, no.

Maybe he'll use the red.
Is this still wet?

It is wet. Three days wet.

Hey, Max, look. Your painting
already brings in a customer.

What is there in the soul of man
that brings him to test for wet paint?

- Accept my word. Don't touch it.
- I think I already did, sir. My sleeve.

- My painting.
- Bring my bag, Vito.

- I'll repair it in my studio.
- I'm sorry, sir.

Don't say another word.

What are you doing here anyway?

- Are you investigating me, Lieutenant?
- No, sir. No, no, nothing like that.

A drowning accident, no witnesses.

We're supposed to check up and see
what people were doing at the time.

- You and the painting and all.
- I find that rather insulting.

To tell you the truth, sir, so do I,
but it all has to go in the report.

There's no question what you were doing
when Mrs Barsini passed away.

A work like that, that didn't just happen.

Exactly.

Oh, Mr Barsini.

Dr Hammer, he was telling me
about your wife's nightmares.

Did you know
that she was having nightmares?

- She never mentioned it.
- Well, it was a while back.

Maybe she got over 'em.

But Dr Hammer, he thinks that something
pretty frightening happened to her

while you were both living here,
and he thinks that she was repressing it.

Um...

Whoa.

Well, that's you and the victim,
isn't it, sir?

Yes.

Can you think of anything frightening?

No, unless poverty
can be regarded as frightening.

Well, maybe it's all buried
in the tapes, sir...

you know, I mean, these things
that she wouldn't talk about.

- Tapes?
- The dreams she put on tapes.

- The tapes Dr Hammer's getting for me.
- For your report?

Yes, sir, if it concerns
the victim's state of mind.

- Are you suggesting su1c1de?
- Can't rule anything out, sir.

Just dig into whatever you have,
even if it's just dreams.

I see.
I think it's time we got to work.

- I beg your pardon, sir?
- On your portrait. First sitting tomorrow?

Oh, well, you can count
on me for that, sir.

(Vito chuckles) The bag.

There you are.

Now you're complete.
He even looks like an artist.

I just wish I could paint you, sir.

Indeed.

The nightmares. I'd be interested
to hear about my wife's dreams.

- Former wife, sir.
- Of course. Former wife.

Would you mind if I looked around
up there, to see where it all began?

Sure. Maybe I should
charge money for this.

Harry Chudnow would make
a lot of money.

- Who is Harry Chudnow?
- Max's first art dealer. With the monocle.

"Ooh! I would have to charge you
a lot of money, old boy."

For the police, everything is on the house.
Be my guest.

- Thank you very much.
- OK.

Julie! Julie, my darling.

Julie!

Hi. Want some fried chicken?
I just bought it last night.

Julie, I wish to talk about
you and Vanessa.

Come, little one.
Tell me you'll try to get along with her.

- I won't.
- For my sake.

- No.
- Make an effort.

- I won't. She hates me.
- She adores you.

- Sure.
- Vanessa is upset because of Louise.

- I hate her.
- See? It's your fault.

- It's always my fault.
- Get along with her anyway!

I won't! I won't! I won't!

The two of you, you're k*lling me!
How am I expected to work?

(Dog barks)

I'm here for the sitting, Mr Barsini.
Is this a good time?

Excellent. You, not that.

I do not paint dogs.

I understand, sir.

OK, sweetheart,
we tried, but this is gonna be just me.

You see, the man is not a dog painter.

All right, darling. Come on.

You wanna stay out here?

- I'll just leave him out here, sir.
- That's fine.

- OK.
- I'll join you in a moment, Lieutenant.

Are you looking for something,
Lieutenant?

No, sir, no.
Just something to take the paint off.

I'll show you. I don't intend
to immortalise my paint on your sleeve.

Sit here, please.

Like this, sir?

Your face like this to catch the light.

Hand here. Cigar up.

This is your pose. Comfortable?

- Not really, sir, no.
- Then learn to make it comfortable.

Virgin canvas. We begin.

You won't see the result of this
until we're finished with our last sitting.

- Understand?
- I understand, sir. No peeking.

No peeking.

I warn you, I intend to paint
your policeman's soul.

Dark, tormented, pitiless.

Don't expect to find your portrait
completely flattering.

Well, I'm in your hands, sir.

You were telling me
about Louise's nightmares.

Yes, sir. You said you were interested,
so I brought a tape along.

Could we play that, sir, while you work?
Or would that disturb you?

As you please.

Position, Lieutenant.

Oh, sorry, sir. Um...

Let me get the tape, sir.
Take a second.

You know, my wife, she's been telling me
about her dreams for years.

She writes them down.
She's fascinated by 'em.

Sorry, sir.

Oh, here we are. There's meaning in 'em,
sir, no doubt about it.

It's just hard to put your finger on it.

(Louise) It's now
: in the morning.

My dream begins
with someone knocking on the door.

(knocking)

Vito has gone home.
Max is upstairs.

It alarms me that someone
should be pounding like that

in the middle of the night.

I go to the door.

There's a man there, an older man.

He's speaking in French. I can only
make out a word here and there.

I've never seen him before, but
I know immediately he's my uncle.

He's very agitated.

My uncle has lost something.
He's begging me to help him find it.

He becomes very angry.
I'm beginning to be frightened.

I call for Max to come and help me.

Max is coming down the stairs.

He's smiling.

I know that everything
will be all right now.

But when he comes to my side,
I see there's a hatchet in his hand,

like a... like a meat cleaver.

Now Max is attacking my uncle,
hacking at him over and over again.

I'm screaming for him to stop
and there's blood on my nightgown

and I'm still screaming
when I wake up.

That's what happened in my dream.

- What do you make of that, sir?
- Certainly a very disturbing dream.

- But what does it all mean?
- Perhaps nothing at all.

- Just an attack of indigestion.
- I doubt that, sir.

A recurring dream,
a puzzle inside a riddle.

- A crossword puzzle in a mirror.
- A French uncle. What is that?

- A Dutch uncle.
- Monkey's uncle.

- But Louise had no uncle.
- None at all, sir?

- None. No uncle.
- Then we have to consider this.

- Maybe everything's all reversed.
- A reversed uncle?

- The uncle stands for the aunt.
- No aunts either.


What was the uncle looking for.
What was missing?

- What indeed?
- Everything upside down, sir.

- Maybe your wife lost something.
- Her red nightgown.

Or maybe you lost something,
when you were living with Vito.

- Something you lost, something stolen.
- In those days, nothing to steal.

- Then there's the French part.
- And the uncle who isn't an uncle.

- This is really interesting.
- An impossible dream code.

Suppose we tried this, sir.
What's the French word for uncle?

- That would be "oncle".
- And my uncle would be "mon oncle".

Exactly. "Mon oncle."

Mon oncle. Mon oncle.

That sounds like the word for "monocle",
doesn't it, sir?

- Far-fetched, Lieutenant.
- Mrs Barsini's nightmare...

the thing that frightened her so much...

could that have something to do with
the man in the photograph in Vito's bar?

The man with the monocle.
That would be Harry Chudnow?

- Your position, please.
- Oh, sorry.

- Louise hardly knew Harry.
- I didn't know that.

Well, it's only the first dream, sir.
Maybe next time we'll have better luck.

- That is, if you're still interested.
- Well, like Mrs Columbo, I'm fascinated.

- Lieutenant Columbo?
- Yes, sir.

They said you wanted to talk
to a lifeguard.

You knew Mrs Barsini,
the lady that used to swim here?

Sure. Used to see her here all the time.

Good swimmer?

- Good enough.
- Good enough for what?

Good enough to pass the lifeguard test
the same time I did.

What do you think of her drowning?

- Beats me, sir.
- Yeah.

Beats me, too. Thank you.

(Max) Louise, come and
be a wife to me.

(Louise) I'm only your first wife, Max.
Vanessa's your wife now.

She was a cheerful one, Louise.
Very sure of herself.

Confident?

How can anyone be confident?
Who knows what the next minute'll bring.

No, I only mean
that Louise was a calm person.

If you don't mind my saying so, ma'am,
I think I could say the same about you.

If Louise had a lover, Lieutenant,
it's news to me.

You mean she never mentioned it?

She was the kind of person that kept
everything bottled up inside, like me.

Excuse me, ma'am, but you don't
strike me as being that kind of person.

With me there's always a storm inside.

For Max, it's always the same weather
report - unsettled, maybe tornadoes.

And Mrs Barsini,
did she send out weather reports?

From Vanessa, earthquakes -
she looks for trouble.

I'm a terrible person -
there's a towel on the floor.

I'm not a complainer,
though I've plenty to complain about.

- No one hears a word out of me.
- About what, ma'am?

About my suffering.

Even poor Louise said I suffer,
living with Max, that floozy model.

I've got plenty of pain.
I keep it locked away.

- Bottled up.
- No one knows.

- You would never tell.
- Wild horses couldn't get it out of me.

Begging your pardon, ma'am, but a pretty
young thing in Mrs Barsini's house,

posing nude for her husband...

A bit of jealousy
is not that far out of line.

Louise wasn't jealous.

Well, ma'am,
Louise, she wasn't his wife any more.

(Julie) Poor Louise. I never dreamed
she had a secret lover.

Do you think her psychiatrist
would have made her happy?

(Columbo) Psychologist, ma'am.

Thanks for meeting me, Doc.

You wanna look at the ocean, hm?

Come on, look at the ocean.

Look at the ocean.
Don't you wanna see the ocean?

- He loves the ocean.
- How do you know he loves the ocean?

Well, Dog and me
kind of sense each other's feelings.

Might be nice
if he could sense my feelings.

Why do I feel so conspiratorial
about all this?

- About what, sir?
- Surreptitious meetings with the police.

Digging out the extra dream tapes.
Walking an ethical tightrope.

I don't know if this is the right thing
to do with Louise's nightmares.

Well, sir, under these circumstances,

the district attorney,
he assures me it's all perfectly ethical.

Opinions from the district attorney.
Sifting through Louise's nightmares.

All this for a drowning?!
What's this all about, Lieutenant?

We're not supposed to say,
as much as I'd like to tell you about it.

(Sighs)

All right, Lieutenant. Here.

Lord knows what you're gonna find,
except more blood and v*olence.

Let me know if there's anything else you
need, any problems I can be of help with,

for Louise's sake.

- Well, there is one problem, sir.
- Yes?

- It's a sort of personal problem.
- Yeah?

I was wondering why my dog bit me.

Your dog bit you?

First time in his life.

Well, what were the circumstances?

I took him to a basset hound picnic
and he bit me.

- At the picnic?
- At the picnic.

- Was this his first picnic?
- First picnic, sir.

- A lot of other basset hounds there?
- Yes, sir.

Jealousy.

He didn't wanna share me.
He didn't like all that competition around.

Jealousy. I should have known that.

Out at the Barsini house,
that place, that's full of jealousy.

- But I never thought of the dog.
- He just wanted to punish you.

He's a very good dog,
but he has to know he's number one.

Well, thank you very much for the advice,
Doctor, and thank you for the tapes.

And if anything ever comes of this, I
promise you, you will be the first to know.

Keep in touch.

(Max) Vanessa!

- Vanessa, my darling.
- Yes, Max?

- You have never looked lovelier.
- Thank you, Max.

- About Julie, my pet.
- Is Julie your pet?

- Please, be a good girl. Try to get along.
- Why should I?

For my sake. For Louise's sake.

Max, don't you get it? I want
that barefoot tootsy out of my house!

- So now it's your house.
- "Every man lives in his wife's house."

Every man is entitled
to a little consideration.

- I won't have this damn cat-fighting!
- Forget it, Max.

- (Doorbell)
- You're impossible! I won't have this!

Enough!

Here I am again, sir.

Consider, Lieutenant, how unfair it is
for a man to live with one woman.

Unfair to the man -
he wants her to be all things.

Comforting mother,
erotic companion, manager of his life.

Unfair to the woman,
for in the end she must fail him.

Three women,
at least one has the hope of happiness.

But what about two women,
Mr Barsini, if I may ask?

Two women, no good.
I wouldn't recommend it.

- Two is no good.
- Louise's nightmare, Lieutenant.

Well, I brought the second dream,
Mr Barsini.

It's a very puzzling dream.

(Louise) It was the
middle of the night.

- (knocking) - Again, I
heard the pounding at the door.

In this dream, it's Max.

He's very angry because he's lost his
key and he's ravenously hungry.

I follow him upstairs.

I see he's opening packages
from the refrigerator.

Like butcher meat packages.

Pieces of meat.

But he doesn't want them.
He throws them into the sink.

Then I see what he's looking for- strawberries...
and blueberries, I think.

He puts the berries in a large glass
like a glass bowl.

He sits at the table
and begins to eat the berries.

He wants me to join him,
to sit with him, eat with him.

But in the sink I see that one
of the meat packages is fluttering.

I pull the paper away.

It's a hand. It's... moving.

I scream to Max that it's still alive
, but now Max is angry with me.

He smashes the glass on the table.

I'm still screaming when I wake up
from the dream about the hand.

I wonder what we can make
out of that one, sir?

- A truly terrifying dream.
- Do you mind if I record our thoughts?

Not at all. You first.

- She dreamt that you forgot your keys.
- I still forget my keys.

Forgetting something
is the same as losing it.

- Or never having it.
- But never having what, sir?

Money. Cuts of meat we couldn't afford.
That's what Louise had on her mind.

Meat and blood, sir, that's violent.
That's a symbol.

Dr Hammer, he was quite sure
about that part.

These symbols can mean anything -
broken glass, strawberries.

- And blueberries, sir.
- Blueberries? No, I never liked them.

Well, the broken-glass part.
I think that's easy.

What I got here, they're glasses.

Now... just this part, half the glasses.

A glass. Are we getting back
to the man with the monocle, sir?

It's a dream world, Lieutenant.
Everything under the surface.

You're searching for meaning
but you'll never find it.

- Well, maybe that's the point, sir.
- I don't understand.

That explains the berries,
what you just said.

Everything underneath the surface.

Strawberries. Blueberries. Berries.

Maybe that's the dream language
for the word "bury".

Like when you bury something
underneath the surface.

But what got buried, sir?

My patience, Lieutenant.

- Your portrait bores me.
- (Paint palette clatters)

It's become grotesque,

like this totally pointless dream game
that leads everywhere and goes nowhere.

I'm not a painting machine.
Good day, Lieutenant.

(Door closes)

(tape rewinds)

(Max) A dream world, Lieutenant.
Everything under the surface.

You're searching for meaning
but you'll never find it.

A dream world, Lieutenant.
Everything under the surface.

You're searching for meaning
but you'll never find it.

A dream world, Lieutenant.
Everything under the surface.

You're searching for meaning
but you'll never find it.

- Vanessa?
- What?

Can we talk a little bit?

Max wants us to get along.

Why should we?

Clearly we don't like each other.

Cheers.

What do you want out of all this?

- Just to be happy.
- Oh.

I used to wanna be happy.

- What happened?
- Max.

I learned three big things
since I married Max.

- Only three?
- One: it's nice to live at the beach.

Two: I can't cook cioppino worth a damn.

And three: there are more important
things in life than happiness.

Much more important things.
Big things.

- Name one.
- Love.

Oh, same thing!

- Love is happiness.
- Right.

- Name another one.
- Another what?

A big thing that happiness
is more important than.

You mean a bigger thing
than what happiness is more important.

Whatever. Name one.

I can't.

Why not?

Life is too hard. I'm an orphan.
Life is very hard for orphans.

- You think that's tough?
- Yeah.

I'm a double orphan.

I was adopted...
and then my adopted folks, they died too.

- Double orphan.
- That's terrible.

I don't mind.
We have to think about Max.

- His happiness.
- His cioppino.

- His work.
- His needs.

What about us?

Now you're talking.

Got her right here ready for you,
Lieutenant. Barsini, L.

- Do you like doing homicide, Lieutenant?
- Sure. Why not? It's nice clean work.

Now, you take the robbery boys.
Safes and lofts? Oh, boy.

You wouldn't believe some of
the miserable places those boys gotta go.

- I gotta check this picture.
- You got paint on your sleeve.

I know. Thank you very much.

You know,
hanging over bodies all the time,

nothing but bodies all day, you might
as well have gone into medicine.

Not me. No, I prefer homicide.

Medical doctors.
I had an uncle, he was a medical doctor.

The only people ever came to see him
were sick people.

Sick people with complaints.

People got better, he never heard
from them. Not even a postcard.

As soon as they got sick,
then they knew his number.

What kind of life is that?
Always complaining.

- You know what that is?
- What is it?

I'm gonna try and find out.
Nice talking with you.

You, too.
Oh, Lieutenant, your file.

Oh, thank you.

Vanessa? Julie?

- What is this?
- Oh, hello, Max.

- Julie, dear.
- Yes, Vanessa.

If you'll ask Max to help with the bags,
I'll open the trunk.

- Of course.
- Thank you.

- It's nothing. Would you mind, Max?
- Mind what?

- The bags outside.
- What are you doing?

- Vanessa is leaving you, Max.
- Leaving?

Leaving how? What leaving?
I don't believe this.

He doesn't believe
you're leaving him, Vanessa.

- I forbid this.
- You know your trouble, Max?

All you want is all there is.

You're like a swollen house guest
who eats up all the food,

and while the rest of us go hungry,
you complain about heartburn.

Madness!
Where does she get such madness?

Poor, sensitive Max. Please try and accept
this in the spirit in which it is offered.

You can go to hell!

Good! Out!

Now you show yourself!

Go! Out!

Now, for the first time, you finally
give me what I've always wanted!

Julie, my pet. Finally we have peace.
Finally we have each other.

Darling, Max, let me tell you
everything that's in my heart.

(Whispers)

Out!

Ingrate! Tramp!

Models!

- (Car engine starts)
- Mr Barsini?

Sir?

I'm ready to try again if you are.

Seems to be a time
for the closing of painful relationships.

Even ours, Lieutenant.

A misbegotten pair...

the betrayed artist,
the uninvited policeman.

Well, Mr Barsini, all this, speaking just for
myself, has been a very great privilege.

Your portrait completed, I'll no longer be
available to discuss my wife's nightmares.

There's only one more, sir.
Who knows what this one will bring?

(Louise) This dream, I really
don't want to talk about it.

My hands are still shaking. It begins
again with the knocking at the door.

This time it's I who's knocking.
The door is locked. I can't get in.

But suddenly the door is open.

I also know that something
frightening is about to happen.

Still, I...
have to go up the stairs.

I find Max at the kitchen table, holding
a man's pocket watch over a cup of tea.

He laughs at me as he says, "There's
something wrong with the works."

Then he drops the
watch into the tea.

But when he turns the cup over,
there's nothing there.

Then I realise it will
all end very badly.

He seems to be trying to comfort me
as he tells me

he knows what happened to the watch.

But when he opens the door to the stairs,
they lead down into a dark basement.

Someone's been digging there,

and I see a body
laying face down in the dirt.

I remain on the stairs,
too frightened to go any further.

Max turns the body over. I know the face.
I know the watch is hidden in his eye.

I know I'm screaming
when Max takes a pick...

and swings at the body.

I'm still screaming
when I see the broken glass.

Perhaps if I ever have the courage
to leave Max, the dreams will stop.

What do you suppose
she could have meant by that, sir?

Impenetrable. But not unlike Louise
to blame me, even for her nightmares.

And we always end up
back with that monocle.

- The man with the watch in his eye.
- Symbol of time. Louise's lost youth.

Could the watch mean
you were losing time, sir?

When you said there was
something wrong with the works,

maybe you were referring to your works,
your works as an artist.

- Very good, Lieutenant.
- And that digging in the basement.

Something buried, sir,
under the surface, like you said.

And the way that man in the monocle,
that Harry Chudnow,

keeps turning up
in all your wife's dreams.

Did I tell you I found an old newspaper
clipping about Harry Chudnow?

- No, you did not.
- May I move, sir?

Please.

Got a copy of it right here.

Somewhere. I know I brought it.

Maybe I didn't.

Oh, no. Here it is.

If you care to read that, sir, out loud.

"For the second time in six months,
international art dealer Harry Chudnow"

is being sued by a local artist

"for failure to report the full proceeds
from sale of the artist's works."

- Yes, Harry was something of a rascal.
- Did he do something like that to you, sir?

- Cheat you out of your work?
- Harry breathed. Harry cheated.

Harry was Harry.

I think you k*lled Harry Chudnow.

At least that's what your wife's dreams
seem to say.

Bravo. The policeman unmasked.

To transpose a fragment of my wife's
sleep into a m*rder mystery...

(tuts) I hardly think so. Poor Harry.
Off to Paris, off to Rome. Harry vanishes.

If we dug up Vito's basement, sir,
what do you think we'd find?

You think Vito could have k*lled Harry?
So long ago.

- I recall he was behind in his bar bill.
- It's not important, sir.

There's no way I can make that case,
not with dreams for evidence.

We seem to be
quite finished here, Lieutenant.

- Can I see?
- You may be shocked.

Well, I doubt that, Mr Barsini.

I'm not even shocked
that you m*rder*d your wife.

Lieutenant Columbo, my wife died
in an accidental drowning

while I was painting a picture
at Vito's bar.

Like this one, sir?

You seem to be making
some unfathomable point.

Well, we can get back to it later.

Those brushes... are they fluffy?

You see that, Mr Barsini?

That's a fluffy brush.

Yes, I'm glad you agree. Indeed, a clean,
fluffy sable brush. Is it significant?

Well, the day that you painted
the painting at Vito's,

what would you say, sir, if I asked you
how you cleaned these brushes?

I would confess to cleaning them
in brush cleaner, Lieutenant.

But when the cleaner evaporated,
the bristles, they would dry all stiff.

Cleaner to wash out the brushes,
water to wash out the cleaner,

thereby producing a fluffy brush.

Where did you get the water?

If you visit Vito's storeroom,
you will discover a sink.

You might also detect a faucet
to provide water.

I turned on the water. That hadn't been
on for months, maybe years.

I turned on that faucet.
The pipes were clogged.

Nothing came out but sludge. Is that
what you used to clean your brushes?

I remember now.
That day, on completing my labours,

I was primarily interested
in home and bed.

- I washed my brushes the next morning.
- Explains why you didn't use the sink.

Thank you for reminding me, Lieutenant.

- But what about your shoes?
- My shoes?

Your shoes, sir. It's the way you paint,
Mr Barsini - very strong strokes.

There's paint all over your shoes.

And here, on the floor by the easel.
You see all the paint?

But at Vito's,
up where you painted the picture,

no paint on the floor at all -
not a drop.

I see. The case of the missing paint.
It's all in the technique, Lieutenant.

Finer strokes. Control replaces passion.
No paint on Vito's floor.

Come over by the light, sir.
I want you to see something.

Oh, by the way, sir, did you see
your wife that day, on the beach?

No, I did not.
I told you, neither on nor off the beach.

You did say that, yes.
Excuse me for showing you this, sir.

It's a police photo of your wife,
Mrs Barsini.

- I'd rather not see this, Lieutenant.
- It's just a brief look, sir.

See how her make-up ran?
It's from the ocean.

The eye make-up, the lipstick smeared.

But the lipstick isn't lipstick,
not according to the lab boys.

They say it's paint.

And you said you didn't see your wife
all that day,

but that red paint at the corner
of her mouth, that's your special red.

That's Barsini red,
just like on this rag, sir.

The same rag
that you carried in your tote bag here.

Do you see the red? The lab boys
even found her lipstick on this rag,

and paint from this rag on her mouth.

So you must have been there before
she drowned, sir. You had to be there.

No doubt the lab boys received
encouragement from a certain policeman?

Well, the lab boys did find traces
of paint cleaner on this rag.

This is very dangerous stuff.

That's like ether.
That'd knock a person out.

- That what the lab boys say?
- No, sir. That's what the can says.

So I'd have to tell the jury
that you m*rder*d her.

Made her unconscious and drowned her.

Because she knew
how you k*lled Harry Chudnow,

and after all these years you were still
afraid of that, afraid she'd tell about it.

You were even afraid of her dreams.

You've been very enterprising, Lieutenant.

Still, the day Louise drowned,
Vito and I would have to tell the jury

that I was painting Vito's bar.

- You mean Vito saw everything?
- He saw everything there was to see.

Well, he couldn't have seen this.

You removing the blank canvas.

There's your bar painting, sir.
It's that dream language again.

Everything under the surface,
like you said.

Would that mean the painting
under the surface?

I say you painted it earlier someplace
else, already painted when you got there,

so you could go out the fire escape
and do what you had to do.

You could make the argument.
I'm sure you will.

Lieutenant, those last
painful moments with Louise...

what if I had chosen a clean rag?

Well, sir, that first day on the beach,
it was the contact lenses...

one in and one out.

That question had to be answered.

Even with a clean rag,
I would have kept digging.

It's like you, sir.
You have to finish your painting.

We both have to finish our work.

- May I see it now?
- Are you quite sure you want to?

Well, I'll take the chance.

As you please.

Lieutenant?

What do you think?

It's very nice, sir.
I think you've been teasing me.

In the end, the hand paints
what the eye sees.

Do you think I could show that
to Mrs Columbo?

With my compliments.

Do I really look like that?

(Opera music)