Original subtitles

Downloaded from YTS.MX

Sad but true: a business like mine shortens your life.

Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX

Each year counts as three.

Take today: it's going to be a real treat.

At least two hours at a factory meeting.

The workers will extort us, because it's almost vacation time.

How irresponsible.

They don't understand that they might not even make it to the autumn.

But what do they do? They go and ask for more!

Benito! A glass of water, please!

One thing's for sure, there's always more trouble.

If this keeps up, I'll close up shop for good.

Speaking of shops...

You're a smart man, dear Massimo...

More than my husband, who never shuts up about business

the financial crisis, his liver...

But you've gotten pretty unbearable too.

I can't stand how you're always correcting me.

Whether it's "Boston" or "Baw-stin"...

is a much more serious matter than you think.

And involving Architect Garrone really hit my limit.

- ... our bra factory. Ha! - Hi.

- Now we have the Americans, on top of it. - Going for a walk?

- Be good, Francesca. - I said we should have dinner together...

- Bonetto, the Americanist... - Hi!

... says that Americans eat very little.

- That's not true! - "Bo-ston!"

No, they're from Detroit.

Anyway, I'll call you if I'm with them for dinner.

Benito! This is unacceptable!

Would it kill you to use a platter?

Not to mention, your gloves are off and your collar's undone!

I've had it with them! Both him and her!

They managed to break my toughest glasses. I'm going to fire them!

Anna Carla, we've tried everything!

Filipinos, Portuguese, and now we're back to Sardinians...

Granted, they're not what they used to be.

Well, I'll call you if I'm dining with them, OK?

Who? The Sardinians?

The Americans, dear.

They want to buy our Bra factory, bless their souls.

What about you?

Guess I'll start packing.

Ah! Very well.

"Bo-ston"...

"Bo-ston"...

THE SUNDAY WOMAN

BASED ON THE NOVEL BY FRUTTERO & LUCENTINI

SCRIPT BY AGE & SCARPELLI

- Good morning, folks! - Morning, Architect!

Hi, gorgeous. One token, please.

Now that's cleavage!

You know the difference between us today?

I'm rakin' it in, and you're rackin' it out!

How funny is that?

Good morning!

It's Architect Garrone.

We had agreed on today.

Right, right. 10:30pm.

My study. Perfect!

My regards!

Bye, guys!

DIRECTED BY LUIGI COMENCINI

Architect, should I trim the back, or are we done?

Huh?

When does the Le Arti Theatre open?

3:30pm. La sferza is playing.

A third-world film. I've seen it.

Artsy, but powerful. And they fuck in four scenes!

I could see it twice, come out at 7pm...

and see the fucking scenes twice.

- So, about that trim? - Trim away!

Dear Massimo, it's not "Boston" that divides us.

It's Architect Garrone! I've had enough of him.

Such disgusting individuals should be put down.

Good evening!

One second... Merci!

- Good evening, ladies! - Architect, how are you?

- Good evening. - How are you?

... more than Correggio, the great Emilian's workshop!

I swear on my honour!

Five million is a paltry sum!

If dear Vollero doesn't mind, before you buy...

Isn't this a bit risqué?

Do you have children?

- They're fully grown. - But our grandkids, Giulio!

Right. They visit every Sunday.

I'd pass. It's five million, after all.

Then let's make it four! Four million.

Don't mind me.

I'm off in search of a drink.

Well?

Thank you.

We'll mingle a bit. Perhaps later.

Garrone is a nuisance, but I pity him. He's such a loner.

In America, there's plenty like him...

failures, dropouts, social rejects.

But there they find a "low-brow" audience.

Here, they're an endangered species.

No! His kind never dies.

Only if you kill them!

Why are you tidying up? We're fired!

Benito, look at all these cigarette butts.

With what they cost, would you just waste them?

"Waste"... as if.

Huh. There's still two in here!

Look at the state of them! She must've been nervous.

The lady was quite jumpy...

"Dear Massimo..."

Is that the guy from Ivrea?

No, that's Massimiliano. This is Massimo Campi.

As soon as the bastard said he was dining out

she ran to him. They'll be in bed by now.

Read this! She wants to kill Garrone.

- Who's that? - Must be another lover.

- What about "Boston"? - Same, I imagine.

The richer they are, the sluttier.

And a murderer, too!

Massimo!

- Yes, Mum? - You're not staying for dinner?

Not tonight. Bye.

CAPRICCIO RESTAURANT

Let's head back inside.

I don't want to see that sign.

The Monnets decided to sell too.

Great! Another condo with a tennis court and a pool next door.

At this point, why don't we just sell too?

- Massimo is never here anyway. - Oh, thank you.

I believe that the American ventures

currently buying Italian factories in the throes of liquidation

are acting upon more than mere financial interest...

Rice... scaloppine... wine...

Any fruit?

Banana!

And about our previous chat...

- Got a boyfriend? - I don't.

Come on. A pretty girl like you...

3,200.

Do you like movies?

Dancing? How about a trip to the Bahamas?

Starting tomorrow, I could make all your wishes come true.

Like a genie's lamp!

But hush, now.

It's a secret for just the two of us...

made of travels, love... and bananas!

3,200.

Keep it! Keep the change!

An 800-lira tip?

- Miss! - Yes?

If I was your boyfriend

and a guy like that talked to you that way

I'd shut him up... for good!

I'd gone out to the riverside.

It was hot, the air was dead still.

I must've been there fifteen minutes, I was walking my dog.

He's a smart boy, like all dogs.

"He who does not love beasts..." et cetera.

Let's see... When did I go home?

Must've been 11pm.

Give or take a few minutes...

I may not have noticed that Garrone's door was open

had the dog not dragged me to it.

I looked in, and...

Oh, my God!

What did you type?

"Oh, my God," exclamation mark.

Coviello, keep your flair for drama in check!

Mr Bauchiero, please tell us everything you can

about what you saw on your way home.

Let's make an effort!

So. Born in... Cagliari.

14/3/1931.

And hereby living in Turin.

- What do you mean, "hereby"? - Why, isn't that right?

Maybe in Cagliari. You're in Turin now!

- You don't say "hereby" in Turin? - No!

The Carabinieri in Cagliari never had anything to say about "hereby"!

- Well? - The blonde woman...

- Blonde woman? - Yes, she was leaving the building.

Not especially pretty or elegant.

A raincoat so transparent it may as well not have been there.

- Basically a condom. - I was trying to be polite.

She had an orange shoulder bag, and she was pretty tall.

- Coviello, did you type that? - No.

Get to it.

Upon returning home, the witness Bauchiero recalls...

One detail. May I?

We're hungry for details.

The bag had a picture on it. What colour? White.

It was a logo. What kind of logo?

Is this a self-interrogation?

I'm trying to be thorough! It was the five-point Star of Italy!

Coviello, type that.

- Wait! - Coviello, don't type that.

This just jogged my memory!

She was wiping her face with a handkerchief

as if to wipe off sweat, I don't know...

But that's why I can't describe her face, or her age.

She was also holding a tube, some sort of cylinder...

- If you won't type "hereby" we're done here. - What's going on in here?

Two housekeepers, sir. They were fired and want to file charges.

Sir, you'll want to see this.

As soon as we read about that poor man, we ran here.

- What man? - Just read it!

- Who wrote this letter? - Mrs Anna Carla Dosio!

"Dear Massimo, all else notwithstanding, 'Boston' or...

Baw... Baw-stin..."

Try with glasses.

... "'Boston' or 'Baw-stin', I've had it with Garrone.

Ritual murder or not, let's get rid of him once and for all...

It will be good for us both.

A. C. Dosio."

That Dosio?

The very same.

- What about this "Dear Massimo"? - Massimo Campi.

That Campi?

Dosio and Campi... Holy shit!

Who are these housekeepers? Do they have a record?

No, sir.

We'd like to know what we're supposed to do.

- The magistrate... - I'll handle Mulas.

One of you, contact the... persons of interest.

And be careful about it.

The other: find a different lead. Something more concrete!

But sir, that's a waste of manpower.

- Two commissioners for one murder? - Yes, Santamaria.

Two commissioners!

Because these two people are involved!

This is extremely sensitive!

Who will interview Mr Campi and...

- He'll do it. - He'll do it!

Well, figure it out.

But look out for journalists.

And remember: silken hand in a velvet glove.

Given that they're rich folks, it should be you.

You're always dolled up, you know some Latin...

- Nope. - Fine. The coin will decide.

- Here. Show me! - What? You don't trust me?

Commissioner, is my son being released?

- Yeah, yeah. - Really?

So, what did they kill him with?

- With this. - Ah!

A stone phallus, clearly Pompeii-inspired.

Was it the victim's, or did the killer bring it with them?

- Unknown! - Make about ten copies of that.

Here you go. Anything else?

I thought you smoked State brand.

Oh... I get it.

What will it be when it's Mrs Dosio's turn? Champagne?

That's the stuff!

I'm so going to regret this.

Where were we?

Anna Carla Dosio. Do you know her?

- I've seen her in the papers. - How is she?

How do you picture the wife of a big Northern industrialist?

I'd say tall, hot...

Hot, bingo.

And she and Massimo Campi, the son of another big industrialist...

Mr Massimo Campi!

I'll leave you alone.

Welcome! Nice to meet you. Santamaria.

- Charmed. - Please, have a seat.

Please excuse my tardiness.

I don't have a car, and cabs are increasingly rare.

Don't mention it. I would've come to you, but you said...

- I'm sorry, no car? - Not for three years.

I had an Aston Martin. I'm still ashamed.

It's more practical this way.

It sure is hot!

Indeed! Cool in the evening, though.

Yesterday, up in the hills

it got too cold for us to dine outside.

You were up in the hills yesterday?

You called me to ask for advice.

On what? I'm dying to know.

- Help yourself. - Do you have any State brand?

Purely by chance.

- Here! - Thank you.

It's a rather thorny situation...

I'm afraid I'll make a fool of myself

but I'm sure you'll understand.

"Non flere, non indignari, sed intelligere."

I'm afraid I don't speak Latin.

Right.

I'm sorry, how did you get this letter?

We don't normally give credence to servants who've been fired, but...

Ah, those two. The couple.

Fired? I had no idea.

Yes. They read the papers and brought us this...

putting us in an... unpleasant position.

The papers, you said? What about them?

Why, didn't you read them?

I never do. Why?

Architect Garrone was killed tonight

in his office on Mazzini street.

"With a curious stone object." What would that be?

Evidence #2.

Ah, yes. Quite his style. Funny!

Perhaps. But some things are funny until they aren't.

"Ritual murder or not, let's get rid of him once and for all!"

You must admit, it's one hell of a coincidence.

Yes, I understand now. I can explain, though.

Full confession!

May I have a coffee?

Yes. We have a vending machine.

Is this for suspects, too?

Of course... we just put truth serum in it.

Then I'm sure there's some in this.

Full disclosure, then.

You see, it all started with the word "Boston".

How do you pronounce that, Commissioner?

Well... "Bos-ton".

See? Mrs Dosio says it with an American accent, "Baw-stin".

I mocked her a bit, and it turned into a fight.

Total break-up!

And... Excuse me, sir. It's this way.

What about Garrone?

Ah, Garrone. He's barely an acquaintance.

No one invites him, but he always pops up everywhere.

So we use him. Or rather, used.

Do tell. "Used" how?

In our private little theatre.

Ah. Charity plays?

No, it's just a game: we pick characters

who embody negative examples.

Mrs Dosio and I will say, "That's a Bonetto-style necktie"

- or "Mr So-and-so socks". - Huh.

- It's a figure of... - What about "Boston"?

That's where Garrone comes in.

He was the type to say "Baw-stin"

to show off how well he spoke English.

- I find the ostentation quite silly. - I couldn't agree more.

But Mrs Dosio, she knew Garrone well?

No, not at all. She was repulsed by him.

That's why she got offended and said to "get rid" of him...

meaning, remove him from our "cast".

I'm sorry, I've wasted a lot of your time.

Don't mention it! I should say the same.

Still, who do you think could've wanted to kill Garrone...

for real, not metaphorically?

- For real, you say? - Yes.

It's a tough question. Let me think about it

and I'll phone you soon, are we agreed?

Goodbye.

Sir, is my son being released or what?

Yeah, yeah!

How was he?

Let's see. He laughs about murder...

but fights over pronunciation issues.

File under "A"!

"A" for "assassin"?

"A" for "asshole"!

An asshole assassin!

What are you doing?

- Hi, Francesca. - Hi!

- Hello, Jeannine. Is the lady in? - Oui.

Come in, come in!

Hi!

Look who's back crawling. So nice of you.

- Don't gloat yet. - Why?

Later, later.

I was in a state for two days.

I was about to write you. A scathing letter!

Then I threw it away.

- In the trash? - Yes.

I thought it would be better to talk it out.

Frankly and clearly.

Something to drink?

Perhaps a coffee later. Now let's talk.

The correct pronunciation is "Baw-stin".

Which is why I'm right to say "Baw-stin" and not "Bos-ton".

It's both right and logical.

And above all, "Baw-stin" is more natural to me.

It's not a silly affectation.

Otherwise, everyone in Ponza would be just as silly.

What's this about Ponza, now?

They're emigrants back from America, and they all say "Baw-stin".

So stop comparing me to that despicable Garrone

and his way of speaking!

Is that why you wrote it was time to get rid of him?

Indeed.

How do you know that?

That coffee I asked for...

You'll have to make it, since you fired Benito and Maria.

Right!

Massimo, don't toy with me.

What now?

Guess where I just was.

- No idea. - The police station.

There, an exceedingly polite commissioner

showed me a letter by a careless write-a-holic...

which could be seen as incitement to murder.

What? Those two!

I get it! Sardinian revenge!

Is that why we gave the police more funding?

So they can share gossip with the help?

If you wrote less and read more...

you'd know from the papers that Garrone was murdered last night.

- No! - Yes.

By whom?

For now, we're the only two suspects.

- Because of my letter? - Yup!

I can't... How wonderful!

What are you laughing at? This is incredibly serious!

Where were you last night?

An alibi? I don't have one.

I walked along the river, thinking about you.

About how boring you would've said it was.

Even the Seine would be too "CIT" for you.

- I would never say "cheap"! - I meant the Italian Touring Company.

- Then what? - I saw a movie, alone.

- No witnesses? - None. What's your alibi?

- Stop deflecting. Then what? - I came home.

Vittorio was out, the help was in bed. And you still haven't answered!

Do you think the commissioner will buy that? He didn't buy my "Boston" story.

So I'm a suspect? When's my questioning?

This is the first thrill I've felt since I got a flat tyre

four years ago, at night, driving to Biella!

- Hi! - Hi...

- Tired? - A little bit.

I'll leave the seasoning to you.

You know what I was thinking, Massimo?

We should really visit Greece this year.

I was talking about it with Fogliato at the office, yesterday.

She went last year.

The sea there... it's purple.

Look!

It looks like a jellyfish.

And the islands... they're incredible.

- Everyone's going to Greece this year. - That's the point!

We can't miss out!

Oh! One second!

I meant a lot of people I know are going!

- En masse. - Ah, your billionaire friends!

Well, it's not like it's our only option.

How about the Aeolian Islands?

- Here, taste it. - No, I trust you.

Just think. No electricity, no water, no gas. No anything!

Just you, me, and nature.

And each morning, instead of coffee

fishermen bring you lobsters this big!

Massimo!

What is it?

Frankly... A lobster right out of bed...

I'd rather have coffee.

You're not interested.

No, of course, I'm sure it's great there.

It's just...

I was thinking of something closer to home.

Like what?

My villa in Monferrato.

You never use that!

That's the point. It was so old, I had it renovated.

I was thinking we could go.

Lello...

Yes?

- The fact is, we... - The fact is quite clear!

You thought that I, with my 24 vacation days per year

would never accept this Monferrato farce!

Isn't that right?

We'll be "just friends," then!

I hope I'll see you again sometime.

Or are you moving to Monferrato for good?

- Come on, Lello... - Let go of me!

Don't be like that!

There's another reason I can't go abroad.

I didn't want you to know.

- A secret, is it? - Yeah!

Between me, a friend, and the police!

- You're joking. - I'm not.

What are you saying?

The truth.

A man died. Murder.

It can't be. Tell me, you must trust me. Who is it?

You don't know him. An architect named Garrone.

Some loser who designed funerary art.

Right, it was in the paper! What did you do?

That's the thing, I did nothing!

But due to some bizarre misunderstanding

a friend and I... You know her, Anna Carla.

We're both neck-deep in it. Is that enough for you?

Forgive me, Massimo!

I'm so, so, so, so sorry!

I looked everywhere, but I finally found where he's been going.

- What? - Where he's been going!

- What did you say? - It's Lello Riviera.

What?

- Riviera, like "riva"! - Riviera...

- Lello, with an "L". - Lello.

- There! - And? What did you learn?

I asked around and gathered intel on him.

Our man works at City Hall.

He's young... and a fruit!

A fairy!

A faggot, sir!

Why the fuck are you speaking Sicilian?

So the people in the tavern won't understand!

Buddy, we got every word.

What are you thinking?

Nothing.

No, you're thinking about the Garrone murder.

I'm not.

You were here last night.

You have an alibi.

Why didn't you tell the commissioner?

You're ashamed, aren't you?

Even if I had, it wouldn't matter.

I was here, but I left at 10:30pm.

Then I took the tram...

and when I got home, no one saw me.

They were all asleep.

I had all the time to kill Garrone.

Kill me too, and end my suffering.

You silly man!

We must prove your innocence.

Of course!

Of course. Don't worry about it.

Commissioner Santamaria, Anna Carla Dosio.

Charmed.

Please, have a seat!

I was thinking about De Quincey.

- Who? - Thomas De Quincey.

He wrote On Murder Considered as one of the Fine Arts.

Ah... Yes, of course.

- Something to drink, Commissioner? - Anything's fine.

What I mean is...

- Scotch? - Sure!

... that as to the possible motive in Garrone's killing

I'd say that in our modern, neurotic society

a lack of motive is a tempting hypothesis.

No, no! Let's resist temptation and think logically.

A motiveless murder must be truly motiveless.

Wouldn't you say?

Whereas Garrone was hated by a lot of people.

Am I right, Commissioner?

Anna Carla, I was talking about aesthetic murder.

Sheer conjecture! Let's be more practical.

- Right, Commissioner? - So?

Well...

Mr Campi's theories are quite interesting.

Thank you, Commissioner!

You men always side with each other! It's a mafia!

Oh. Maybe you're Sicilian...

I'm sorry, Commissioner.

I'm actually from Rome.

Not all commissioners are Sicilian

just as not all Sicilians are Mafiosi.

How kind of you.

I didn't mean to be testy. I just wish to help.

But if you'd rather continue your literary debate, be my guest.

No, ma'am. I'd love to have your help.

First of all...

you'll want to know if we have an alibi for that night.

Dear, maybe he does, but let him ask.

Then ask away!

Fine.

What's your alibi?

Lunch is served.

Ah, yes. Thank you, Teresa.

In the worst comedies, that's where the scene would end.

I guess it's to let them eat in peace.

Commissioner, as to our alibi...

Well, I don't have one.

But I do know some things about Garrone

which you may find of use.

Do tell.

I have a friend named Bona.

One day she dragged me to a cultural meeting

on the topic of childhood masturbation.

When we came out, there stood Garrone...

who, being childless, was surely there just as a pervert.

Bona and Garrone started chatting.

I was waiting for my husband. Then, Bona wanders off...

Garrone leers at me with those slimy eyes of his

and makes an obscene face at me.

- And what did you do? - What could I have done?

Since that day, every time we met

he'd always do that horrible face.

That's who he was, and all there ever was between us.

Still, it's a connection.

The odd complicity between victim and killer.

The spotless lady finds herself obscenely connected

to a filthy individual, so she kills him.

- How about that? - You idiot!

You and Vittorio. He also laughed at it!

Do you want to help the police, or what?

She means Vittorio Dosio, her husband.

He did laugh, but perhaps to mask his fury.

Yet another suspect.

Am I helping or what, Commissioner?

Your husband... did he know Garrone?

I doubt it. He just heard about him from us.

More importantly, Massimo, do you have an alibi or not?

I never have one.

But that only proves I'm innocent, right, Commissioner?

Murderers always have an alibi.

In that case, I'm also innocent.

Too easy!

Commissioner, Anna Carla has half an alibi.

She went to the movies, but no one saw her.

Murderers are always "at the movies," aren't they?

So are the victims. Excuse me.

Do you want the name of the theatre?

Sure.

The Le Arti. They were showing La sferza.

Garrone also went to Le Arti to see La sferza.

Could that be Massimo's lover?

Yeah? What about the woman?

That's Dosio!

Oh, Paolo! Come on! What did you...?

Ah, wake up, Bettina!

What surprises you these days?

Your Massimo is 40!

What is it?

I just thought...

The murder weapon that killed Garrone.

"Live by the sword..." I told you what they used!

"Live by the... die by the..."

Jokes aside, that stone phallus...

If it belonged to the killer, it's clearly a lead.

- Sir, a phone call for you. - Right. Pardon me.

Thank you.

Come on, you know!

No, I want you to say it!

Say "I love you!"

I'm with some colleagues. Triberti, Cerioni and Fogliatti.

I'm working for you.

I'll clear your name, you'll see!

No, I can't say anything more for now.

Say "I love you!"

I already told you...

I love you.

Won't you take off your jacket, Commissioner?

No, thank you.

What are you thinking?

What about you?

Oh! We're at "I ask the questions around here, toots" bit.

Is that so?

I was thinking...

today is not my usual day.

I could say the same.

You're not a suspect, though.

As far as I know, neither are you.

Don't say that! Or I'll go back to my dreary routine...

packing bags for vacations.

When I said "not my usual"...

I meant it was pleasant.

I could say the same.

Are we repeating lines now?

Come again?

You know, I just can't imagine

how a commissioner spends his spare time.

Well...

I listen to classical music...

I read...

I'll clear my next Sunday too.

- Sure, honey. Sure, - Oh, you!

Pardon the wait!

It was an old, nosy aunt.

Commissioner.

Did Anna Carla give ample evidence against me?

Massimo, this is for Vollero's exhibit.

I had an invite too, but I didn't go.

But Garrone always went, if only for the buffet.

I'm sure he did. It's a good lead. Should I come with?

Thank you, there's no need.

"Art and myth at the Vollero gallery."

I'll take a look.

You're obsessed with the Garrone murder!

With everything that's going on nowadays...

Well, it's a mystery!

Not the usual robbery, car chase

or shootout between pimps.

I'm sure it was someone rich who did it.

Sex and blackmail!

No, no! It was Bauchiero...

- the guy who went to the police. - Why?

I've read that half the time, whoever found the body is the killer.

Maybe they were rivals.

Garrone designed tombs. Maybe he does too.

- Triberti! - What?

Can I see your archive of tombs and burial cells?

Touching wood!

- Cerioni! - Pardon me!

When are you closing?

Ma'am, what do I know? No one's leaving town these days!

Too scared of robbers!

Well, if you can't even take a trip

to guard your house with a loaded gun

so they won't steal a couple of paintings...

might as well move to Switzerland.

Mrs Tabusso, your house is pretty far uptown.

There must be all kinds of criminals around!

Who would've thought that my Casina Le Buone Pere

would turn into a round-the-clock whorehouse?

- Oh, it's a lovers' spot? - Lovers, sure...

We have all the whores in South Turin in our gardens.

Careful, you're hurting me!

Armies of whores and pimps!

You know what my sister and I have to do each morning?

A condom harvest!

I've reported it again and again. Nothing! No one cares!

Mrs Tabusso, I know a police commissioner.

Talk to him, I'll build you a monument.

Is he upstanding?

He's following the Garrone murder.

I'll say. Morals are so lax today.

Everyone grumbles, but no one does their duty!

No one but that Bauchiero.

- Who's that? - The man who found the body.

Instead of looking the other way, he went straight to the police.

And what memory! He even remembered the blonde!

They still haven't caught the culprit, though.

But he put them on the right track!

With that detail about the tube...

And that other one, the bag with the Star of Italy on it.

Fish!

What are you talking about, Virginia? What fish?

It was a starfish.

How do you know?

I saw it!

Pardon me! Pardon me! Touch wood, everyone!

- Found anything? - No.

- Hi. - Hi.

If your Bauchiero is anywhere, it's here

among the projects of those deluded enough

to think people still want a whole family crypt.

They don't get it. There's no room! Even a burial cell is a waste!

No way around it! Cremation is the future!

We live in the packaging age. Well, is he there, or what?

Not Bauchiero. Here's Garrone, though.

"Garrone, Zavattaro Marbleworks, Royal Park Avenue."

What about it?

What does it mean when a firm's name is on it?

Usually that the client is the marbleworkers'

and the architect was paid separately.

I was deeply saddened, Commissioner.

I can still see him, here in front of this painting.

Our poor, dear, irreplaceable Garrone.

Such a void he leaves, with his charming humour.

But who? Who could've wanted him dead?

You took the words right out of my mouth, Mr Vollero.

No one, sir! No one!

Am I right? He was also there that night.

You said you saw Garrone then.

Did he say anything we may find useful?

Nothing particularly interesting.

One moment. Enlightenment! Details emerge!

- The Piovano sisters were there. - They were!

At a certain point, one of them said...

What did she say?

"Let's all go to the Bottega dei Fiori." But Garrone said...

"No flowers tonight. Tonight is all about stones."

That's right.

He said, "Tonight is all about stones."

We didn't catch his meaning at the time.

But maybe there could be... a "connection"

with the murder weapon. Just saying!

Just saying.

He said something else.

He made a wide, sweeping gesture and said:

"Soon I'll be rich enough to buy all this crap

and flush it down a toilet." Sorry, Vollero.

It's fine. He didn't do it.

He no longer did anything.

Oh, Mrs Dosio. Such a pleasure seeing you here.

Do you know Mr Santamaria?

I do since breakfast.

I've found you someone who saw the killer half an hour after the fact.

Interested?

Is anyone home?

Is anyone home?

Who are you?

Commissioner Santamaria.

And his colleague, De Palma.

Did Dosio send you?

Duty sent us. Countess Tabusso?

Countess, my ass!

- She's not a countess. - Beg your pardon.

You should've come at night!

They leave their cars there. See?

Clearly you don't.

They do all their nasty business right outside my house.

Coming and going like Sodom and Gomorrah.

Right there. We can hear everything, even prices!

The city stretches out, and so does sin!

A paradise, ruined by whores!

Fucking all over the place. They come in through a hole in the fence.

- Why don't you close it? - They always open it up again.

Do you like my jungle? I haven't touched a branch since my Cicci died.

Halt! Strawberries. Don't step on them.

Do you want any? Did he fall?

Look at this washbasin. 17th century.

I had to turn off the water. They used it as a bidet!

Ma'am, we'd like to ask your sister some questions.

- Is this about the tube woman? - Yes.

Come, come.

You, with the weak legs. Climb onto that!

There's room for both of you!

- Are you afraid? - No, I'll... Alright.

How do you like that?

I had it made for my poor Cicci. He was paralysed...

It was a hassle, hauling him up and down the stairs.

So heavy! Over 220 pounds!

My sister is scared stiff of the tube woman coming back for revenge.

That's why she stayed quiet until now.

She never leaves the house, not even by day.

There she is.

Hello.

Can you tell us about the woman with the star bag, Mrs...?

- Miss! - Oh, pardon me.

- She had indigestion and couldn't sleep... - Let her speak!

No, allow me. She gets too emotional.

It's better this way. I know the tale by heart!

That night we had Brussels sprouts for dinner.

You know what those will do to you.

My sister got up and left her room...

- What time was it? - Around... 11pm.

So then, Virginia crosses the garden

and goes to where all those whores gather.

She got to the laurel tree...

She was always the poetic type.

Maybe she stopped to listen for crickets.

Then, one of the parked cars down there turns on its headlights.

My sister hears a rustling...

And out from the bushes springs this beast!

Rearing up and running after my sister with a bludgeon

or rather, the tube itself, howling like a monkey!

Did she see her face?

A nightmarish monster, she says. Ran back white as a sheet!

Then, reading the papers, she realised

it was the same woman that did Garrone in.

She got so scared she didn't say a thing until today.

She only opened up with Mrs Dosio at my hairdresser's.

Here! She's got it all in here.

A beach bag with a starfish embroidery!

A starfish?

Now will you clean up my property?

I asked the Carabinieri, the morals police, no one gives a damn!

Am I to live among whores?

Bauchiero, does that look like the Star of Italy to you?

You're right! It's a starfish!

So, right after the murder

the blonde was uphill by Le Buone Pere.

But what about Dosio and Campi?

The rich never have an alibi. It's not their style.

Maybe they both don't have one because they were...

- Having sex? Can't be. - Why not?

- Tell him. - Massimo Campi is gay.

- I'm in a rush, bye! - Bye, see you!

- Hi! - Hi!

No, they'll see us!

Why do you always lock your car?

- There are thieves around! - It's just a Cinquecento...

You despise me, don't you? You think I'm dumb.

Not at all. I think you're a bright young man.

- Really? - Of course!

- Swear! - I swear.

That makes me happy.

My worst flaw is my lack of self-esteem.

- Dinner at my place? - I don't know!

My folks are gone, we'll be alone.

That's great!

I'll see Zavattaro tomorrow, then.

- Just look at how they parked! - Zavattaro?

You know I'm investigating the Garrone murder.

I'm doing it for you! I have a lead.

Investigating? This doesn't concern you!

It concerns you, and therefore me!

Seriously, stop it.

Such kindness!

Do forgive me if I dared to worry about you.

Oh, shut up!

But... Massimo!

Massimo!

Pardon me! Pardon me! Massimo!

Massimo, let me explain!

You misunderstood!

Massimo, forgive me! Please!

- Stop it! - Please!

You're ridiculous!

Massimo! Ma... Massimo!

Max! Max!

Take-out dining: lifeline for wifeless husbands

and helpless wives, too.

The figures are up to date.

Engineer Fontana, you'll forgive me for the food, won't you?

Don't mention it! It's not much better in restaurants nowadays.

The other night, too, with the Americans...

Right, Vittorio?

He excused himself after the appetisers.

Not that I blame him.

Dear Fontana, I care very little about what Vittorio did the other night.

Rather, how long was he away?

But... honey, Fontana is mistaken.

No, he's not. So you don't have an alibi, either.

Alibi? For what?

Vittorio, either you were out whoring

- or you killed Garrone. - What are you talking about?

The lady's joking.

Not at all.

- But tell me something. - At your service...

Well, a couple months ago

I heard you tell Vittorio a rather sordid anecdote...

Something about an obscene item.

When I came closer, you changed the subject.

But I think you mentioned a name. Do you recall?

It was just a silly story!

Tell me, then.

Well, some Dutch managers from the Eindhoven Company

came over for a contract, and they told me they had bought...

How can I... You see, they were...

stone phalluses.

An Emilian marbleworker made them.

- And this man's name? - Zavattaro.

Good! That's what I wanted to know.

- Is that all? - Yes. Eat away!

- It may be a coincidence, but... - Here's the sisters' villa.

And here's Campi's. Small world!

Mr Santamaria, phone!

The lady!

Hello?

- Anna Carla Dosio. - Ah, good evening!

- Did you speak with Mrs Tabusso? - I have, thank you.

- Was it useful? - We'll find out tonight.

- Why tonight? - We're doing a sting at her property.

Really? Glad to hear that.

I have another lead for you. It may be important.

Do you? What is it?

No, the phone may be wiretapped.

- Yours? - No, yours!

- Can you visit tomorrow morning? - Of course!

Then I'll be waiting for you. 10am. Good luck!

Thank you. Goodnight!

I told her about the sting because I have a plan.

- I can see what you're planning! - What?

Never mind. I'm ready to go. Are you?

More than ready!

Oh, no more, no more! I'm already drunk!

What is it?

I'm thinking...

Maybe we wouldn't fight if we could have children.

I'm kidding!

Listen...

How about we go to the Balon market this Saturday?

See if there's something for your villa.

Why? It's fine as it is.

Even your room.

My room?

Yeah, why?

Separate bedrooms, to each his own?

I guess it's a miracle mine isn't in the basement

- where plebs belong! - Oh, come on!

Come to the castle, Cinderella

but come midnight, you'll still be a servant!

Enough! I've had it with you!

I gave up on women because they're annoying

but you're worse!

Then go back to your women!

Hello?

Ah, Anna Carla.

Yes. How are you?

No, I was in the garden. Jogging.

A sting? At the Tabussos' place?

How do you know?

One second, be right back!

Lello!

Lello!

Freeze! Police! Nobody move!

- Stop right there, ladies! - At least let me get my clothes!

- It's just a sting! - Be merciless, Commissioner!

Sure. Merciless, ma'am.

- Gotcha! - Hands off, you pervert! Go away!

Pretend I'm with you!

- Sure. Nicosia! - Yes, sir!

- Pretend she's with you. - Come here. Move!

No! I don't wanna!

Let me go! Let me go, you bastard!

I'm telling your wife!

Public indecency!

- It's actually pretty private. - That's right. Come with us!

I'm just a client! Is that a crime?

It is here! This is my house!

More like a whorehouse!

Come on, come on. Come on through!

Help the lady, she's having trouble.

Come on, come on!

Don't be afraid! Why are you pulling me?

Nicosia!

Cut her off upstairs!

Nicosia, Coviello! Block the villa's entrance.

I had five! You left me alone! Where are you?

Stay still!

No!

They're coming up here!

Virginia!

That way, that way!

Come here!

Are you insane? Can't you see I'm a lady?

- Pardon me! You, come here! - No! No!

Whew! So?

A few women, a young man, and a... gentleman.

Mr De Palma, where are you?

Please answer him. If I yell, my back hurts.

Nicosia, what is it? We're here!

I have recovered the following...

body of evidence!

Easy, easy! I'll come peacefully, don't worry!

The forecast said low pressure and cool air coming in from the North.

Must've been stopped at customs.

What do you know? I get funny at 4am.

So, what's your name?

Fascetti Ermelinda!

- Should I approach the mirror? - You're fine where you are, sugar.

You work at Le Buone Pere every night.

That's not a question.

It is if you answer. Come on!

It's a fake mirror, Virginia! They can't see you!

Look! Is it that one?

Look carefully. Do you recognise her?

No, it's not her.

She was, how can I describe her...

taller, more...

I'd like to point out that I don't fit the profile.

I'm not blonde, nor tall.

Who told you that's what we're looking for?

The town is small, people talk. May I go?

- You may. - Go, go!

- Go fuck... - ... yourself!

Don't provoke them!

This one is tall, but not a blonde.

Why, a black-haired whore can't wear a wig?

- Do I need to tell you? - No, ma'am.

- Next! - Give it here.

Who here knows a tall blonde who wears this kind of stuff?

Correct answer!

Can we go fuck ourselves too, sir?

- Of course, ladies. - Thanks!

- And the same to you! - Thank you, ma'am!

We know who we should thank for this fine night out.

Those two old harpies from Le Buone Pere.

Can you tell them to fuck themselves too?

- I'll pass it along. - Thank you, sir!

See you soon!

Did you hear that? It was a threat! You must protect us!

Yeah, we'll deal with it. Hello?

Oh! Your Excellency!

The chief called. He wanted to hear about the sting.

Did you tell him we found the items near Campi's villa?

I did. He hung up, mad as a bull.

Sometimes I think I shouldn't have been a cop.

Sirs! Sirs! Plot twist!

Yup. I wanted to be a tenor.

Man, that's dawn for ya... you get philosophical!

I just get annoyed.

Sirs! We can sing "eureka"! Look here!

It's the aforementioned faggot.

As per my coded phone call yesterday

concerning the results of my tailing.

Like this!

He was arrested without documents at the place of the sting.

The raincoat fits perfectly... mostly.

I have no documents because I forgot my wallet at a friend's place.

But I don't understand why you're making me wear this!

Take that off.

Ah, thank you.

Where does this friend of yours live?

Answer him!

- Well? - In the hills.

And what's their name?

You won't tell?

I don't want to involve them.

They're a well-known figure.

Get his personal information and let him go.

Let him go?

Ah, these wallets!

I'm always losing mine!

Bye.

- Ah, Commissioner! - Good morning.

Already at work?

I was up early. I didn't sleep last night.

- Too many thoughts? - Too hot.

I should leave the city. My gardener's already gone.

Don't tell me you were just in the area?

I won't.

Did the sting go well?

How did you know?

Anna Carla phoned me yesterday evening.

One of her loyal informants told her.

And who would that be?

A new cast member in your play?

Oh, dear me. Perhaps I've said too much.

You'll also know the results of our sting, then.

Why should I, Commissioner?

Seven prostitutes, three pimps...

and a young man named Lello Riviera.

And why are you telling me, Mr Santamaria?

Why don't you guess?

You cops sure have a soft touch.

He was here with you, last night.

And there goes the soft touch.

Didn't Mr Riviera already tell you he was here for dinner?

We have nothing of the sort on record.

He's a very reserved person. A true gentleman.

What do you mean?

If Lello said nothing, how do you know we're friends?

- Why so mad? - Who told you?

Was it Mrs Dosio?

- She did no such thing! - Now who's mad?

- A man was killed! - Your suspicions are absurd!

It's my duty to investigate!

As soon as you suspect someone, you cruelly search their past....

You yell too much, even if this is your property!

- ... and their present! - Mr Campi!

- Then you yell too! - Thanks, I don't need to.

Go to Mrs Dosio...

She doesn't like to wait.

Tell me why Riviera left this place last night

right as our sting was happening.

It's simple, Commissioner.

There are whores down there.

He must've gone to one of them...

unless that's against the Constitution.

It's against his.

No. At the meeting with our regional branches

I'll tell them plain: we must go from nine to five!

Of course. Of course!

Yes, we knew! We already told them, but...

- Come to your room, Francesca. - No!

Don't disturb Daddy.

Right, right! We're already exporting to Germany...

Voilà!

I'm all yours. You're very punctual!

Yes, we're only late when it comes to catching perps.

May I know where we're going?

Look inside my bag. There's a yellow card.

I said there's an address.

Why did you tell Massimo Campi about the sting?

Ah! Is that why you're so mad?

What a snitch, that Massimo!

I just wanted to show him that I also know stuff!

But you're right. Will you forgive me?

Yeah, yeah.

Zavattaro Brothers. Marble, stone, granite...

artistic stonework, funerary monuments.

Stones. More stones.

As per our witness, the day Garrone died he said:

"Tonight is all about stones."

Ma'am, why are we here?

I found out where some Dutch businessmen bought those...

I got it! I got it.

Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of a killer man.

- Do you have a gun? - Ma'am, let's be serious.

Is anyone home?

I won't introduce myself. Don't act surprised at what I say.

Right back at you.

Good morning!

Are you the owner, Mr Zavattaro?

Yes!

We come from Holland.

You are maker of peculiar objects?

What are you interested in?

Special object...

Is it possible to see these special objects?

One moment! I'll call my brother Osvaldo.

He worked in Germany, sprecht Deutsch...

Look, there's no need. I'm Italian.

Then why do you let her talk, if she's no good?

She needs the practice!

This is our fantasy pavilion.

My brother Osvaldo, the artist.

Do you have a distribution network?

Nope! From the maker to the buyer!

This is our classic model.

- Bitte, haben sie eine Zigarette? - No.

Osvaldo also made pocket-sized ones, out of marble...

- but it wasn't gut. - Right.

Didn't work. They didn't sell much.

These look great anywhere!

And here we have our larger model.

In Sweden, they put them on lawns.

Garden sculpture.

If you're buying retail, the pricing is piece by piece.

If you're buying in bulk, and distribute our product...

we'll give you a cut of the earnings and a discount.

Who are you, exactly? Her interpreter?

No, I'm a lawyer.

I represent the estate of Architect Garrone.

Garrone's family?

Then who is she? Architect Garrone's girlfriend?

- The lady is a relative. - Yeah?

Do you know that Garrone was killed last Tuesday night?

And what do we care?

We want info on Garrone's credit towards your business.

What credit? I'm the owner and maker!

He only got a cut when he sold an item.

Twenty percent.

But in a year, he only sold about 20.

He wasn't our creditor. Credit, nichts! Got it?

No credit for anyone! Out, you and this whore!

I didn't quite catch your last word.

You're no lawyer!

- He's a bodyguard! - Come.

No, he's a cop!

I say bodyguard!

- Are they the murderers? - No, no.

They wouldn't have left the...

thing at Garrone's, since they're known for making them.

We now know that the weapon belonged to the victim.

Killed by his own merch sample.

Look, you can leave me at a cab stop.

You have a family, I assume you...

My family is scattered.

The little one eats lunch at school

while my husband eats lunch at the office.

Well... then, if I may...

I'd like to invite you out.

I know a place up in the hills.

Discreet, like a country house. Would you like that?

Yes, of course I would!

- And it's cooler than here. - Oh, even better.

Out!

Are you crazy? I'm going to sue you!

- I'll break your spine! - Help!

- I don't know any Bauchiero! - Help!

- I don't know any Garrone! - Don't touch me!

I don't know anyone!

How dare you?

Damn snoops! You and that whore!

Who the hell are you? Another relative?

You broke 18 of my cocks!

I'll kill you, every bodyguard, every cop...

and every Dutch!

Bullseye! Right on their day off.

I've never been here before.

Well, maybe...

Maybe?

I meant to say... It may be nicer, deserted like this...

"The poetry of deserted beaches and empty classrooms."

And clientless hostels for illicit couples.

Oh, pardon me!

Who knows how many shaky alibis could be explained here.

There's a hole in my husband's alibi. Did you know?

Yes, I know.

And you know that I know. From 8:15pm onwards.

Yes. That's why I'm telling you.

There's a hole in every alibi he makes up to spend the night out

which, surprisingly, happens almost every night.

Massimo Campi's alibi also has a hole.

If he was the murderer, I'm sure he would've said so.

You don't really understand him.

You should try a bit harder.

Why are you laughing?

I'm never asked to be more understanding

when the suspect is a poor man.

Massimo is a bit neurotic, yes.

But he's also humble, generous, honest

and above all intelligent.

Don't the two of you ever get tired of being so clever?

Such an effort!

I can see you avoid it, if you can.

Intelligence as pastime is...

"assholery."

"Assholery?"

If you don't mind me being blunt...

How nice.

You insulted me first.

Will you forgive me?

What are you doing tomorrow?

My husband is taking the kid to Geneva.

With all these kidnappings nowadays...

She'll be safer in Switzerland.

It's like we're putting her in a bank, too.

Why do you ask?

To avoid finding another closed restaurant.

My house is always open. I'm an awful cook.

- Am I that inviting? - No, I'm inviting you.

Do you like tenderloin?

With pepper!

I'll buy some!

Well?

Then, hypothetically... you handle the tenderloin.

I'll get the cream, pepper, and the rest.

- Is that...? - Who?

Do you know him too?

Yes, he's a good friend of my husband's.

It's closed!

And that's certainly not his wife.

Why are you hiding?

Well, to spare him the embarrassment. I'm on duty, anyway.

So, where were we?

I thought you were on duty?

Huh?

Well...

Let's admit Zavattaro was a false lead.

No big deal! Let's follow this one.

You're too stubborn for your own good!

Hail to the illustrious slackers of the restrictions office!

Hello.

This is our valiant colleague Riviera, from the fourth division.

He needs your help.

Is there any project here waiting for approval

that was submitted by an Architect Garrone?

- No idea, but we can look it up. - Thanks!

- When was it submitted? - I don't know.

I'm not even sure it exists.

Our valiant colleague is a detective!

Of course, Your Excellency, I agree!

I mean, with all the kidnappings and shootouts

why shouldn't we also take care of this?

That's what I said! At your service, Your Excellency!

- So? - The chief keeps getting angrier.

- This time it's not our fault. - Why?

He went to a restaurant, but it was closed.

So?

He couldn't have lunch... nor dessert.

What about you? What did you find?

I questioned the Zavattaros, they all have an alibi.

The one that looks like a boxer says a slim young man

a bit on the frail side, came enquiring about Garrone.

Lello Riviera!

Here's what we'll do.

I'll handle Riviera, and you'll get another coffee.

There he is! That one!

- Must be a policeman. - He sure doesn't look like one!

He's so shifty! I don't like it!

This is an old washbasin.

For centuries, the Po river washed the laundry of Turinese farmers

who had no shortage of good "pere".

You, there: sit down, or get out. You're distracting.

Ah, Commissioner!

I'm glad you're interested in our debate.

Please, have a seat!

The Po, father of all rivers in Italy. Maybe the whole world!

Its name's primeval roots lie beyond the Mediterranean.

The Ancient Greeks called rivers "Potamos"...

while "Potomac" was the Indian name

for the river that runs through Carolina.

- Virginia! - Right, Virginia.

Let's see... Oh, dear me. This is a friend of ours...

an archaeological consultant who helped with our documentary.

Architect Garrone, who sadly met a tragic end.

Thus ends our projection

on the historical washbasins of the Turinese countryside.

Goodnight!

Why did you ask the Zavattaros about Garrone?

Zavattaro beat me! Can I press charges?

Sure. But why did you go?

I'd rather not answer!

We have enough to get a warrant. You'll answer to a judge.

If you think you can scare me, you're wrong!

Why didn't you say you were with Campi the night of the sting?

How did you find out?

- He told me himself. - Did he?

And he admitted it freely? He wasn't ashamed?

Answer!

Be honest...

Is Mr Campi a main suspect?

You know...

if you told me that he's not, I'd almost be disappointed.

Oh, not that I resent him...

Well, maybe a bit, but mostly because...

he's always looking down his nose at me.

So what?

I always tried not to suffocate him

because love can't be a chain, right?

And yet...

we broke up anyway.

It's awful. I can't live like this!

So, my last hope to have him back...

Or rather, I should say...

to rehabilitate myself in his eyes...

is to show him that this poor wretch

can get him out of trouble and help you!

Sir!

I just want to hear him say, "Good job, Lello. Thank you!"

That's all I want.

You're from the South, aren't you, sir?

I am... but let's not dwell on it. Chin up.

Last night, when you dressed me up as a woman...

you were very nice to me, and I know why.

Southerners are kind.

- What else? - You know...

At first I thought Bauchiero was a suspect.

I thought he and Garrone were rivals.

It was a false lead.

Like opening a door, and finding out it's a cupboard.

I just looked around my home turf, in the offices at City Hall.

And I found... Oh, that's enough!

- Just know I'm on the right track. - Meaning?

Tut-tut! You must also have some faith in me!

I'm expecting a call tonight for a meeting tomorrow morning

which i think will clear everything up.

- With whom? - I can't tell you!

It's a bit of a secret.

But tomorrow, as soon as I've spoken to a certain someone

I'll run to you, and you'll thank me!

Riviera. Be careful.

Oh, don't worry!

A Sicilian colleague of mine always says:

"If you look for stuff you shouldn't, you'll find stuff you don't like."

We have a fitting proverb too.

"The bad laundress never finds the right pera."

But I've already found mine. See you soon!

Starting tomorrow, tail him. Find out who he's meeting.

People will think I'm a fag!

That makes two of us.

You call this parking?

I'm lucky I've been watching my figure!

Wait... What's his deal?

Who? Ah, Riviera.

No, Mr Santamaria is out.

You can talk to me.

A car was following you?

No, we're not tailing you.

We have no white cars with a dented left fender.

Why didn't you answer the door?

Because I feared for my life!

First Zavattaro beats me, now I'm being hunted!

It could be that brute! I'm working for you, you know!

- Very kind of you, thanks. - You're welcome!

You must find out whose car that is!

Right, I'll write that down. We'll let you know.

Who drives a white 1500 with a bent left fender

and who knows what licence plate?

Ah, you don't know? You're all useless around here!

What's in there?

Shops, boutiques, more than 100 retail spots

even supermarkets:

there's no other bag like this in Turin.

The police asks for help, the police's hands are tied...

the police can't shoot, the police never finds shit!

Look it out, look it out!

Look at this signed seascape, Mr Vollero!

No names! How many times must I tell you, you idiot?

I don't buy here! I buy in London!

- Signed by whom? - Whomever you like!

Do you have "My Love Over a Verity?"

By the Old Brefequets.

The Old Brebreque... Brebrequets. "My Love..."?

Brebreque... cats. Tromp.

Aw, go learn some English.

You hillbilly!

- Does this grind pepper, too? - It grinds anything!

It's quite in vogue these days. It's kitsch!

- How much is it? - Five thousand. It's a steal!

- How about this one? - Six thousand!

- I'll take it, then. - You won't regret it!

Thank you.

- What is it? - A present for a friend.

- Nice! - What about this?

A present for a friend.

Authentic Ferniani from Faenza, 18th century. One of its kind.

- I actually needed two. - Well, we have two of its kind!

Fixed price: 40,000. But we can haggle.

Excuse me, sir!

I accidentally left with both.

I don't know where my head's at.

If your head is missing, maybe you took our pestle too.

What pestle?

Like you don't know. A bronze pestle, this long!

Eleven pounds, at least.

And worth at least 10,000 lira.

- Hello! - Hello, ma'am.

You're here too? How come?

I'm supposed to meet someone

at the second-hand furniture graveyard, but...

Ah, everyone's at the Balon today.

Bonetto, my husband, you and I... Massimo...

Massimo? You saw Massimo?

- I thought... - My meeting's not with him!

I'd rather not meet him at all. It's too soon!

I can tell you, though.

I think I know who killed Garrone.

I will know for sure soon. I'll tell you then.

- Goodbye! - Goodbye, Rivera.

Riviera!

Commissioner Santamaria?

It seems the young lad knows something important!

Yes! At the Balon. You know, the big flea market!

Yes! I should also report that Mrs Dosio and her husband are both here

as well as Mr Campi and others!

Don't lose her, I'll be right there!

- See? I knew you were here too. - Pardon me?

I just met Lello.

Lello? I didn't see him.

I was looking for something for my villa in Monferrato

but this place has become more expensive than the antiquarians downtown.

He had a meeting at the furniture graveyard.

He seemed quite worked up.

He said he's about to find out who killed Garrone

and that he will know for sure soon.

What's all this about?

What did Santamaria find out?

Why are you asking me?

- Was that out of line? - I can't see how...

It just isn't my day...

I must run. I'll phone you tomorrow.

It's not local! Don't stop at every stall!

Forget it, come on! Let's go! Let's go!

Tired?

Can't find Bonetto!

Such a tragedy!

At the furniture graveyard! They found a body!

- Peek-a-boo! - Ah! Where were you?

I was browsing around!

- Did something happen? - I don't know. Let's go and see!

Where were you?

Asshole! Both you...

and him.

Move! Move! Let us through!

- Calm! Remain calm! - Massimo!

Back! Stay back!

Lello... Riviera.

They caved his skull in.

With a bronze pestle!

How do you know?

Let's move! Nicosia, phone De Palma!

Mr Vollero, where are you going? Don't hide. Come!

Come with me!

Move! Move! Please, folks!

I owe no explanation to anyone.

I won't answer any questions until I'm told why I'm here!

And until my lawyer is present.

None of you is a suspect, for now.

This is not an interrogation.

I'm just gathering facts for my report to the DA's office.

That's why we're being guarded in a basement?

We're all out of drawing rooms.

Will each of you kindly tell me

why they went to the Balon this morning

and exactly where they were at 12:35

when Mr Lello Riviera was killed?

Bonetto, don't answer!

What do you mean, "Don't answer?"

As if I have something to hide!

Also, why should I go first?

You're first in line!

Well, you are if we start from your end.

Let's start with the ladies!

Ma'am, will you go first?

I went to the Balon for a purchase.

What kind?

No... not a bronze pestle.

A pepper grinder.

Is that illegal?

So, you went all the way to the Balon for a pepper grinder...

But the lady knew Riviera well...

And Garrone too!

Watch your mouth!

Don't you dare slander her!

I say the only one here

who could have gone to the Balon to meet Riviera

is Mr Campi.

And everyone knows why.

Shut up, you idiot!

I wasn't meeting Riviera! I didn't even know he was there!

Anna Carla, say something!

You wrote that letter about getting rid of Garrone!

- You spoke to Lello last! - Massimo!

You knew where he was going, and about the pestle!

- You know too much! - Whatever do you mean?

The Commissioner won't question you, though.

Shame on you!

What's all this? I demand an explanation!

Mr Santamaria, can you come over here?

So, Santamaria. Are we done?

Take their info and send them home, quick!

Chief, these are all suspects, more or less.

And sometimes less is more!

We're playing riddles now?

If everyone's a suspect, no one's guilty! Ancient wisdom!

I can already see the headlines!

"VIPs suspected in Balon murder, Turin jet set in shock!"

I'll be marked as a stooge of Northern industrialists.

While you'll become a vile, corrupt officer

doing the bidding of the Demo-Christian Right!

You're even named "Santa Maria"!

Home! Home! Send 'em all home!

I'm your superior. It's an order!

Of course, it's your investigation. I won't interfere!

Remember what I told you. Or better yet, don't!

You didn't even see me! Bye!

Commissioner, they're all suspects! All three of them! Murderers!

Please sit down.

- How dare you? - Murderers, all of you!

For that matter, Commissioner, he's also a suspect.

I heard him say, in front of witnesses

that Garrone should be killed, butchered...

- I can't recall the exact term, but... - Will you sit down?

Garrone was one of your worst enemies!

You're out of your mind!

We worked together on the stone washbasin survey!

Right, and you know what? I say you're the killer!

Silence, all of you! God damn it!

Enough of this ruckus! Sit down!

Let go of me, you imbecile!

Mr Bonetto, a moment ago you mentioned stone washbasins.

- Yes, why? - Good!

As you're all from Piedmont, you might clear something up for me.

Why does the bad laundress never find the right pera?

What does a laundress have to do with pears?

In our dialect, "pera" means stone.

There we go!

The bad laundress never finds the right stone

because, being bad, she never wants to work.

- In English it would be... - We don't care, Piedmontese is enough.

- Mr Bonetto... - Yes!

That night, Garrone said: "Tonight is all about stones."

- Right, I... - And yesterday, Lello Riviera

came to your debate because he was interested in stones.

Yes, that's what I...

Then, with your leave, we'll go turn over some stones.

Be right back.

- De Palma, let's go! - Where?

- You don't get it? - Get what?

Scaglia, these folks are our guests!

I told you the car was too full!

- Morning. - Let me do the talking!

- Are you Cerioni, from City Hall? - Yes, why?

We got word from the precinct. You must turn around!

I knew it. Your mother got sick!

- But I'm right here! - Oh, right!

You're needed back at City Hall. It's urgent!

Move, move! Back in the car!

- What happened? - Later! Big stuff!

- Let's go, let's go! - Move, or we'll get there after dark!

Move, move, quick! Quickly! Let's go!

Found it!

See what the tube that blonde was carrying was?

A land sale project! Let's go talk to this Regis.

What are you doing? Get away from there! You can't...

What a view, Mr Regis!

Let that telescope go! I won't allow...

Come, come. Have a look!

Where are you going, you piece of trash? Come here.

So that's why you and Garrone were friends.

He was my one and only friend.

It's not easy being like us... purveyors of beauty.

Voyeurs are very frowned upon.

- Mm? - Peeping toms.

It's dangerous to peep on couples at night.

Out, out! To the precinct!

No! No! I'm begging you! Don't take me!

My neighbours!

Sure, if he talks here we'll spare him the shame

and maybe worse. Right, colleague?

Right. We're not so heartless.

So, about Garrone!

I swear...

I helped Garrone, but I had no ulterior motives.

I work at City Hall. I oversee building restrictions.

He wanted a big comeback from all his humiliations.

Working on a documentary, he had discovered...

that a piece of land the owners want to sell

features the ruins of an ancient washbasin.

So we stalled the sale.

Who's there?

Friends! Commissioner Santamaria!

And his colleague, De Palma!

Get in front of the eyehole so I can see you!

From the side, too!

Alright.

- Good day. - Good day to you.

It's quite nice here at Le Buone Pere, huh?

Which is local for "The Good Stones", isn't it?

That's right! The stones in our old washbasin.

- So, your sister isn't here. - No!

- She went... - ... to the Balon!

No, she went to the cemetery! For the 22nd.

Can I get you anything?

The 22nd what?

It's 22 years since her poor husband Cicci died.

She goes every year.

It's been quieter here since our sting, I hope?

Yes.

Oh! Actually, I had quite a fright yesterday!

I was there... out in the garden, and I saw...

I saw a young man who looked very suspicious...

but my sister went and talked to him

and it turned out he was one of your agents.

- A blonde, thin man? - Yes!

He didn't look like police.

And indeed he wasn't.

- Oh, good day to you, ma'am! - Good day!

What the hell do you want?

We'd like to ask you a few questions.

Go help Palmira... peel the peas. Go, go!

I offered them a little drink. Was I wrong?

- No, you did great. - Go, go!

Go peel the peas, miss! Don't mind us.

Mrs Tabusso... shall we have a little chat?

Did you know Mr Riviera was murdered at the Balon

with a pestle to the head?

Yeah, you do. Don't you?

You do, and we have proof.

What proof? What are you talking about?

Proof that you were at the Balon today

before you went to the cemetery, if you even did.

I did go to the cemetery. At least ten people saw me.

Unfortunately, you were also seen at the Balon.

By a traffic warden, to be precise. De Palma?

Your ticket, time, and plate number. We have copies of each.

Is going to the Balon illegal?

It depends on what one does there.

Ma'am... will you show me your driver's licence?

- Have you lost it? - Not it. Her bag.

Did you leave it in your car, ma'am?

Must be the white 1500 with the busted fender.

- I'll go take a look. - No! I'll go!

No, no! Stay here, ma'am.

My dear lady...

I see you brought the money.

Good, good!

Unfortunately, there is a problem.

It's no longer enough, I fear!

My friends at City Hall doubled their request.

It was hard work, lifting the restrictions for that washbasin

on the land you wish to sell.

But your earnings will be huge!

Colossal!

So if you want that building licence, you'll have to pay double.

Take it or leave it!

Do you wish to see the approved project?

Here it is! Money up front, though! Look, but don't touch!

- Is it in there? - It is.

Yeah, she still had the pestle in her handbag.

I caught her thanks to Lello, the poor lad.

He'd figured it all out.

City Hall, the projects...

And the proverb about stones... I never would've gotten that.

Tabusso came clean at the precinct. You know what she said?

Riviera and that guy... Garrone...

"A pervert and a child molester. They deserved nothing better."

What a mindset!

Hey, are you sleeping?

Oh, dear me!

I'm late for my chores!

No, hey! Wait one second!

What chores?

It's Sunday!

I have to finish packing for the holidays.

I didn't have the time, thanks to your investigation!

Well, excuse me!

We leave tomorrow!

Bye-bye!

Wait, when will you be back?

Who knows, we'll spend September in Switzerland! Bye!

But... Anna Carla!

Ah, well.

Massimo!

- Looking for a taxi? - I am, but with no luck!

Hop in, I'll give you a ride!

The city is deserted. Everyone has left.

There's not even one taxi.

Massimo, do you say "tax-y" or "tax-ee"?

- Me? It's pronounced "tax-y". - There, I knew it.

I've always said "tax-ee", but this time you can't argue.

They say "tax-y" in London, and affecting foreign accents is silly.

- They say "tax-ee" in Paris! - Then we're even!

- No, because in Italian... - "Tax-y" is too bourgeois!

- And "tax-ee" is too snobbish! - Better a snob than an accountant!

- Wrong, accountants are better! - Bullshit!