Something else besides the death of your husband was bothering you. You were upset, but not that upset.
Mr. Gittes. Don't tell me how I feel.
Sorry. Look. You sue me. Your husband dies. You drop the lawsuit like a hot potato all of it quicker than the wind from a duck's ass. Excuse me, uh. Then you ask me to lie to the police.
It wasn't much of a lie.
If your husband was killed, it was. This could look like you paid me off to withhold evidence.
But he wasn't killed.
Mrs. Mulwray. I think you're hiding something.
Well, I suppose I am. Actually, I knew about the affair.
How did you find out?
My husband.
He told you? [She nods yes] And you weren't the least bit upset?
I was grateful.
Mrs. Mulwray, you'll have to explain that.
Why?
Look. I do matrimonial work. It's my m?tier. When a wife tells me that she's happy that her husband is cheating on her, it runs contrary to my experience.
Unless what?
She was cheating on him. Were you?
I dislike the word cheat.
Did you have affairs?
Mr. Gittes.
Did he know about it?
Well, I wouldn't run home and tell him every time I went to bed with someone, if that's what you mean. Is there anything else you want to know about me?
Where were you when your husband died?
I can't tell you.
You mean you don't know where you were?
I mean I can't tell you.
You were seeing someone too. For very long?
I don't see anyone for very long, Mr. Gittes. It's difficult for me. Now, I think you know all you need know about me. I didn't want publicity. I didn't want to go into any of this then or now. Is that all?
[After nodding yes, he remembers to ask one final question, holding up the envelope with initials "E C" for a return address]
Oh, by the way, uh, what does this C stand for?
Cr...Cross.
That's your maiden name?
Yes. Why?
No reason.
You must have had a reason to ask me that.
No. I'm just a snoop.
...
OK, go home, but in case you're interested, your husband was murdered. Somebody's been dumping thousands of tons of water from the city's reservoirs and we're supposed to be in the middle of a drought. He found out about it and he was killed. There's a waterlogged drunk in the morgue, involuntary manslaughter if anybody wants to take the trouble - which they don't. It seems like half the city is trying to cover it all up, which is fine by me. But Mrs. Mulwray, I goddamned near lost my nose. And I like it. I like breathing through it. And I still think that you're hiding something.
