Below the Eckleberg sign a train thunders through the level crossing. The final carriage clears to reveal Gatsby's yellow car waiting on the other side of the crossing. Meanwhile Myrtle sees the yellow car; a desperate whisper.
"He's here...Myrtle says, thinking its Tom. Myrtle gives a sudden backhand to Wilson's face as she twists from his grasp! Standing outside his restaurant, the owner, Michaelis sees Myrtle rush out of the garage shouting hysterically.
"Stop, Tom, please, stop!" Myrtle appears in the headlights of Gatsby's car. The sleeve of the pink suit and the 'Daisy' signet ring, Gatsby's hand on the wheel tries to veer away...!
...
As the coupe's blinding headlights nears, Nick, Tom, Jesse and Jordan see the commotion.
"Wreck...! Good. Wilson will have a little business at last... Let's take a look.." Tom says, instructing Jesse to stop the car.
"Must we?" Jordan asked.
"Just a look." The dim garage is lit only by a swinging yellow globe. Wilson stands on the raised threshold of his office, swaying and wailing a high, horrible call.
"O, my Ga-od! O, my Ga-od!" A crush of gawking spectators speak in hushed tones. Tom pushes through the crowd. He stops, and makes a harsh sound... Tom bends over it, shocked, motionless. Nick also watching Tom's reaction. A policeman stands next to Tom taking down names, and as he sees Tom, he tells him, "Sir. Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to step away-"
"Get off me...! I'm fine. I'm fine." Tom finally regains his composure. The policeman asked Tom, "You knew her?" Tom gave a long pause, "No... Not really...
"Well then I have to ask you to step back." The policeman instructed.
"What happened...?" Tom wanted to know. The officer responded, "She ran out 'inna road. Son-of-a *** didn't even 'stopus' car." A well-dressed African American man steps near.
"I saw it! It was a yellow car; big yellow car." the well-dressed man says. For Tom, a slow realization slowly settles in, while Nick; a disbelieving horror. The Greek restaurant owner Michealis pipes up.
"Yeah, a big yellow duezy; custom job." Some of this conversation has reached Wilson; suddenly sighting Tom, he moves toward him with a cry...
"You don't have to tell me what kind of car it was! I know what kind of car it was!" Tom, realizing the danger, moves quickly and seizes Wilson.
"Pull yourself together..." Tom says, a soothing gruffness, while Wilson was distraught, almost collapses, but Tom holds him upright and pushes him into his office in the garage. Tom sets Wilson down and whispers intensely.
"Listen, I just got here from New York. I was bringing you the coupé. That yellow car wasn't mine, do you hear? I haven't seen it all afternoon." The policeman follows and turns suspiciously to Tom. The officer asked, "What color's your car?"
"Blue, a coupé; we've come straight from New York." Tom says. "My driver's in the car. He'll tell you its also my coupé as well."
"Yeah, they just stopped... Michaelis replied. The policeman accepts, suspicious still...
"Alright... Blue." The officer noted, while in the relative calm of the office, Wilson's clouded, desperate eyes look up at Tom.
"Who owns the yella' car...?" Tom tries to think it over, with a tiny pause. "Fella named Gatsby; he's a crook, George. Gives those parties the papers are always talking about..."
"Maybe he was the one foolin' with Myrtle; maybe that's why he killed her...?"
"Yeah. Maybe. Guy like that, who knows..." Wilson starts sobbing again.
"Oh, Ga-od! Oh, my Ga-od!" He rests his head on Tom's shoulder. Tom consoles Wilson and then whispers... "Gatsby. Something outta be done about a fella like that. He'll pay... Oh, he'll pay..." Jesse continues driving, while Tom sobs...
"The -damn coward didn't even stop his car..." Jordan and Nick sit silently beside Tom; he turns to them, triumphantly accusing...
"You gonna defend him now, huh?" The coupe drifts slowly up the drive. As they walk up the stone staircase, Tom disposes of the situation in a few brisk phrases.
"I'll telephone for a taxi, Nick, Jesse. Come in and have some supper while you wait..." Tom opens the door.
"No thanks. I'll wait outside." Tom stares at Nick, absorbing his disdain.
"What is the matter with you?" Tom snorts and goes in; Jordan puts her hand on Nick's arm.
"Won't you come in, Nick?"
"No... thanks."
"It's only half past nine..." Jordan says.
"No. I think I've had enough... Of everyone." Jordan gives Nick a long, hurt look... But Nick stares decisively back, then towards at Jesse; after a moment he turns sharply and walks off. Dejected, Jordan sweeps inside, while Jesse takes a deep breath, before going inside after Jordan... As Nick's feet crunch upon the white gravel of the drive, he is startled by a voice from the shadows...
"Hello old sport..." Cautiously, Nick approaches the hedge. The closer he gets the more certain he becomes: Gatsby is hiding, just below Daisy's window. His pace quickens.
"What are you doing!?" Nick asked.
"Just sitting here..."
"Yes, I can see that." Nick says.
"Where is Jesse?" Gatsby asked.
"I don't know. Jordan was talking to him earlier, but I think he went to bed..."
"Did you see any trouble out on the road?"
"Trouble!? That woman you ran down is dead Jay!"
"I thought so... I told Daisy I thoughts so-"
"Daisy? Do you hear yourself-"
"Its better that the shock should come all at once-"
"What's wrong with you!? How could you!?"
"Please... Keep your voice down, old sport."
"Tom was right! You're nothing but a -damned coward! I wonder what your twin cousin will think of you now!"
"Keep your voice down... There. Was. No. Point. In. Stopping." Gatsby threatened.
"NO POINT!?"
"It, it killed her instantly. I-"
"Yes, I was there. I saw!" Panicked, Gatsby grabs Nick, trying to explain... "I understand- It was... my fault. This woman just rushed out, as if she wanted to speak to us... It all happened so quickly. She- I... tried- to turn the wheel."
"She?" Suddenly! The creak of a door opening. A shaft of light... Henri emerges. An interminable moment. Gatsby and Nick hold their breaths. Finally, Henri goes back in. Nick, a realization. "It was Daisy?" Finally, and very slowly, Gatsby admits. "You see, after we left New York, she was very nervous. She thought driving would steady her. But this woman, she just rushed out at us. It all happened so quickly. It wasn't her fault...It was my fault. I should have taken the wheel... No one must know. Promise me. No one. Promise me. Not even to Jack. Or Jesse."
"Jay- You shouldn't be here. You should get out of here." Gatsby gazes back to the house... "No. No. No. I'm going to wait. I'll wait all night if necessary. You see, Daisy's locked herself in her room, and she's going to turn her light off and on again if he tries to bother her about that unpleasantness this afternoon. If he tries ANY brutality whatsoever-"
"Tom won't touch her. He's not even thinking about her..." Nick says reassuredly.
"Oh, I don't trust him, old sport. I don't trust him." Nick considers the light at the end of the terrace.
"Alright. Alright... You wait here. I'll see if there's any commotion."
"Would you do that for me? Thank you. Thank you, old sport." Nick slowly looks around, then skirts the terrace... Rounding the corner, Nick, unseen in the shadows, can see Tom and Daisy sitting at one end of the vast dining table, a plate of cold chicken and two bottles of ale between them. As Tom speaks intently and earnestly at Daisy, his hand falls gently upon hers and she nods tiredly in agreement...
"Its going to be all right... " Then, very slowly, Daisy lays her head on Tom's shoulder. Nick was shocked... angry even.
...
Nick sitting, drinking from a bottle of whiskey... Still, he hasn't heard or seen where Jesse had gone to... or what has happened... The sound of a car coming up Gatsby's drive... Gatsby cleaning the Duesenberg's fender just as Nick appears, coming across the yard.
"Jay? Everything alright...?" Exhausted, Gatsby turns...
"Oh, hello, old sport. Yes, yes, everything's just fine... Still nothing about Jesse?" Gatsby asked.
"Nothing. He's probably still at Tom's, or better, in your mansion"
"About four o'clock she came to the window; she stood there... Then, well, she turned out the light... So..." Gatsby beckons to the car, "Give me a hand will you old sport?"
"Jay... You oughtta go away." He helps Gatsby cover the car. "Tonight. They'll trace your car." Gatsby looks as if Nick has gone crazy. "Go away? I can't leave now. Not tonight."
"Do you understand that a woman has been killed-?" Nick follows him from the garage toward the house.
"Daisy's going to call in the morning. Then we'll make plans, to go away together."
"But Jay she-" Sensing Nick's tone, Gatsby cuts him off and banishes all doubt with intense certainty.
"She just needs time to think... She'll call. In the morning. She just needs time to think." Gatsby says, calmly.
"Jay-"
"She just needs to think. She's going to call in the morning." Gatsby smiles that smile of endless possibility... He turns to go in but stops. " Wait up with me? The suns almost up..." It was the night he finally told Nick the truth. Gatsby's voice echoes through the empty halls of his vast, lonely mansion as he confesses...
"You know, I thought for awhile I had a lot of things... But the truth is... I'm empty. I suppose that's why I make things up about myself... But I've wanted to tell you the whole story for a long time... You see. I grew up, terribly, terribly poor, old sport. My folks were, well-" As Gatsby continues, he revealed his humble beginnings, his transformative voyage with Dan Cody, the war, Oxford, and how he'd joined Wolfsheim in the business... In the silvery pre-dawn, Nick and Gatsby trail slowly toward the end of the dock. This was also that night that Nick became aware of Gatsby's... extraordinary gift for hope.
"...I can't describe to you how surprised I was to find out that I loved her, old sport. And that she loved me too." A gift that Nick has never found in any other person...
"I never realized just how extraordinary a nice girl could be." And which it is not likely Nick will ever find again. Gatsby continued, "I thought out my life with Daisy in it, trying to figure out how we could marry and struggle along on so many dollars a month..." Finally, Nick is able to ask: "What was in the letter?" Gatsby reaches the end of the wharf and looks to the green light across the bay...
"The truth, the reason why after the war, I hadn't been able to return-" In the clouds overhead, where it is now revealed, Gatsby wrote in that fateful, last letter:
Daisy, the truth is... I'm penniless. "I asked her to wait until I'd made something of myself. But- She was young, there was so much pressure. You see, I felt married to her... That was all." It had all been for her. The house, the parties, everything.
...
At Wilson's Garage, A hand takes a revolver from a desk drawer... It is Wilson. Toward the window behind him... The staring eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleberg sees what is happening below...