All language subtitles for The.Bloodstained.Butterfly.1971.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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(♪ Slow instrumental music playing ♪)

(Inaudible)

(Inaudible)

(♪ Playing piano ♪)

(♪ Continues playing ♪)

(Gunshot)

(Thunder crashing)

(Rain falling)

(Rain pouring)

Nanny, pretty soon it'll be over.

Come on.

No, it's going to pour any moment.

Now, stop, I say.

- Now, let's go home, children.
- (Boy) Oh, please.

One, two,

three, four, five,

six, seven, eight,

nine, ten, eleven...

Federica, come with me immediately. It's late.

I lost my place. Thirteen, fourteen...

(Woman screams)

- (Woman) Hey, watch out for the gearshift.
- (Man) Okay.

(Man) Okay, I'm watching.

- (Woman) Hey, you turned on the headlights.
- (Man) Uh, sorry.

(Woman) No, not that, you dope.
That's the windshield wiper.

(Man) Oh, this car is too small for this.
(Moaning)

(Woman) You said it.

Oh, I'm suffocating.

Let me get some air.

(Man) Come on.

(Car horn blares)

(Siren wailing)

(Tires screeching)

(Wind howling)

(Over PA) Will the Pan American
public relations representative

please report to the baggage counter?

Last call for Air France flight 312

for Paris, Los Angeles...
Now boarding at gate number seven.

Trans World Airlines
announces the arrival of its flight 123

from Boston at gate number five.

Final call for Iberia flight 72 for Barcelona.
Gate two.

(Man) Watch where you're going.

- (Woman) Leave him alone, he's drunk.
- He shouldn't drink if he can't hold it.

- He doesn't look drunk to me.
- (Woman) Ah, forget it, will you?

(Man) Looks to me like he's doped.

They ought to put kids like that in jail.

(Woman) Alright, alright. Let's go home.

We've already heard players
like Rivera and Riva,

and now we'll ask Chinaglia
to explain to us here, uh,

what his attitude was during
the threatened soccer strike.

And tell us what's behind
the recent measures that were taken.

How about that, Chinaglia?

Well, I think it was all for the good.

Yes, but will you tell the public, too?
They are all anxious to hear about it.

- Right now, it's a big issue with all fans.
- Average players

don't earn as much as they're worth.
That's what's important.

Stars are the only players who get paid a lot.

And most of us have to face the risk

of ending our playing careers
on the relief rolls.

(Host) Then the important players,
backed by their prestige and drawing power,

are really trying to protect the weaker ones.

That's what's going on,
if I understand correctly.

(Chinaglia) That's right. And I think
this attitude on the part of the stars is...

- Oh, popping spalookas! What a drag.
- Sara, don't speak with your mouth full.

(Reporter) This terrible crime
was discovered around 6:00

during the rainstorm by some children.

A maniac evidently had attacked

and stabbed a young girl to death,
here in the park.

She's been identified as a 17-year-old
French student named Françoise Pigaut.

Poor Fran.

Isn't that your friend?

...first to discover the victim's body.

Her nurse ran for the police,
and the park was quickly surrounded.

The authorities began a thorough search,

which was immediately carried out.

But it appears that the killer
eluded the dragnet

under cover of the heavy downpour
that is still falling here.

Agents from the police scientific laboratory,

summoned to the scene by Inspector Berardi,

head of the homicide squad,

have begun their investigation,
which should reveal the killer's identity.

A major obstacle is the steady rain,
since vital clues may have been washed away.

Better put a tarp over the area.

(Man) Stop going back, give him some cable.
Bring the light in closer to the camera.

Judging from the evidence
as to how the girl was murdered,

the French student, Françoise Pigaut,

was killed on a hilltop covered with trees.

Her body, with multiple stab wounds,

rolled halfway down the incline

as the children and their nurse saw.

That accounts for the scratches
on the girl's face and legs

- in addition to the stab wounds.
- (Camera clicks)

Okay, pan over there
and get a good shot of the body.

She was stabbed to death alright.
I found the knife. A switchblade.

Here, take this kit up to the Lieutenant.
I'll bring the other one.

Alright, you TV people,
get out of the way, give us room.

I'm going to take another shot.

Take a look up there near the trees.

Damn rain never stops.

Hey, Rossi, have a look at this.

(Camera clicking)

I need a lab man to pick up that knife.

Just a minute. Putting my glove on now.

Hey, Nick.
There's too much gain in the audio.

Keep back, please.

We need more light over here.

You get a cast of that footprint yet?

Wait a minute, I'm doing it now.

- Hold it.
- Let me get a shot of this.

Get me some more plaster.

Here it is.

- Hmm, looks like a rubber sole.
- Yeah.

Everyone wears
rubber-soled shoes when it rains.

Where the hell is the coroner?

Headquarters said he's on his way over.

Inspector, I found this record over there.

On it is written "Je t'aime - Françoise."
And it's dated today.

What is it, pop music?

No. Tchaikovsky's B minor concerto.

Not a bad recording, either.

(Reporter) So far,
Inspector Berardi and his men

have little concrete evidence to go on.

Only a switchblade knife,
presumed to be the murder weapon,

and the statement of a witness

who saw a man escape from the park
by climbing over a wall.

The man was almost apprehended.

After that, the park was surrounded

and the witness presented his information
when he saw the police come.

(Eyewitness) When I heard the rain coming
down again, I went to shut the window.

I saw it all.

Well, it was getting dark.

And from the third floor,
you couldn't recognize your own son.

So, I saw everything I could see.

Not much. Well, it looked like...

Looked like he was afraid
of somebody who was chasing after him.

Well, I mean, he was in a hurry.

- Go on.
- Oh.

Well...

He was young. The wall was so high,
I mean, the way he went over that.

He was young.

It's bitter!

It's the machine.

(Sighs) Go on.

He had an overcoat on.
I mean, a... a raincoat.

I mean, uh, a coat.

Light beige. (Clears throat)

You know.

(Machine whirring)

I must say, the fingerprints
on the flick knife are very clear.

And you think that'll help?

They're checking the prints
against the ones on file.

A wasted effort, I'm afraid.

Why?

(Berardi) Why?

Because, in the way I see it,
the killer could only be one of two types.

Either a person
who was seized by a sudden impulse

and in all probability has no police record,

or else, a sex maniac.

And in that case...

in that case, he would have worn
a pair of gloves.

Or have made an effort to erase

- his prints from the handle.
- Right.

(Man) We found these tickets in the girl's
pockets and in the book she was carrying.

Every subway and bus ride
she took in the last week.

Looks like she saved them all.

But none of them carries the date
of that fatal Friday afternoon.

(Coroner) Five wounds inflicted
with a sharp weapon.

First three were upward thrusts.

The last two were downward,
while the victim was already falling.

Any sign of sperm?

None. She wasn't abused sexually.

She struggled with her attacker, though,
and scratched him superficially.

Under her fingernails, I could only find

traces of human skin tissue
that can't help us precisely.

They only establish
that the killer was a Caucasian.

The back of the girl's jacket was covered
with mud from lying on the ground.

Now, we are trying to find out

what might have caused
the other spots on her rain jacket.

I'll be able to tell you that
when I see what the spectrographs show.

The stains were caused by a plastic
commonly used for automobile seat covers.

It's an imitation leather called Vilpelle.

The stains are recent.

In fact, here's the cleaner's confirmation
of returning the garment on Friday.

So, starting with the facts we have in hand
and using a bit of imagination,

let's try to reconstruct the day of the crime.

In the first place, the killer was someone
the girl knew and thought of as an old friend.

Girl of her class doesn't follow a passer-by.

And she isn't likely
to be picked up by one either.

- Does it make sense to you?
- I thoroughly agree.

It's sugary.

Hmm.

Probably, that Friday she had a date.

Because she had the record with her.

The B minor concerto.

The cover was inscribed that day.

It was a present she'd picked out for him.

(Man) Hmm.

(Berardi) That afternoon,
she was on her way to meet him.

Let's say she was about to take the subway

when someone she knew came by in a car
and offered her a lift.

How do you justify that supposition?

We know she meant to take the subway

from a schoolmate of hers
who left her near the entrance.

We know she didn't take it, however,
from the fact that there is no subway ticket

dated that day among the others
she made a habit of keeping.

At that point, she got in the car.

It had been raining all day,
and her coat was wet.

So, when she leaned back
against the plastic seat cover,

- the coat got stained.
- (Man) Hmm.

(Berardi) Well, let's say the driver of the car
gave her a lift as far as the park.

Or perhaps they stopped
and got out of the car nearby.

Maybe she said she wanted to take a walk,

or the murderer might have suggested
that they stop for a moment.

But if that's the case,
her books would have been left in the car.

And the record too.

Her place was 20 kilometers away from there,
which, of course, means that first of all,

the record hadn't been bought
for whoever took her to the park Friday.

And second, she wanted to be let out.

And third, she was early for an appointment
in the park to see her friend.

- Right.
- Exactly, she'd have left

the record in the car
if she wasn't meeting somebody.

How is it?

Warm.

Yes, and it could be Françoise was afraid
since her appointment was set for much later,

and the friend who brought her
kindly offered to wait there with her.

And to be sure

she was safely delivered to the person
with whom she'd made the appointment.

No, these are too strong.

Well, now, it would seem

either one killed her.

The one who stayed to protect her
or the one she met in the park.

It was certainly one or the other
who tried to take advantage of her.

The girl resisted.

- No!
- In the struggle,

she dropped her books and the record.

She must have threatened the man
who was attacking her.

- Told him she'd report him to the police.
- (Muffled grunt)

So the man panicked,

- (Gasping)
- took out the switchblade,

which for some reason
he carried in his raincoat pocket,

and he killed her.

(Groaning, panting)

- (Muffled whimpering)
- (Switchblade clicks)

(Muffled groaning)

(Gasping)

- (Exhales)
- (Man) Just a moment.

Admitting the man in the car
and the man she was meeting

are two different people,

why hasn't the innocent one come forward
to give evidence so far?

What if neither one is the criminal?

Somebody else, a third person.

In that case, we pray for a miracle.

Quite like chasing rainbows,
as our efforts are called these days

in all our friendly newspapers.

Like a coffee?

- You audio people ready?
- Yeah.

- Evening.
- Evening, Mr Marchi.

- Alfredo.
- Evening, Mr Marchi.

- Hello.
- Hello. Hi.

Ciao.

All ready? Okay, now.

Bring it up.
Dolly in and out. Okay?

Sandro, your mic could be dead.

Lower the boom.

I'll check the level.

Live reading.

- Is your hand better?
- Thanks to you, Sandro.

(Chuckles) I should be a doctor.

(Director) Alright, boys, let's take.
Ready, Sandro?

- Whenever you are.
- Ready to roll now.

Ampex ready to record.

Raul, wipe his forehead, will you?

Ready three.

Ready two.

(On speakers) Thanks.

One.

At the end of the third tone,
we'll go for a take.

(Three beeps)

(On speakers) Track records, javelin.

A remarkable throw today broke records,
thanks to US track star Ted Bryan.

The record was set at try-out...

(Tires screeching)

(Tires screech)

But I tell you I know who the murderer is.
I recognized him.

- My name is Gabriella Giusti...
- Alright, madam. Miss, alright. Alright.

- Let me talk to the Inspector.
- Inspector's in a meeting.

You'll just have to wait.

Wait? But why?

What for?

If he will just listen to me,

I can solve the case for him.

I can do it now.

- Thanks.
- There.

Bad, huh?

Pretty good.

Hmm.

Now, as I understand it, at the exact moment
of the killing, you were in the park, too,

with the young fellow you had met,

and were face to face with him.

That is, the killer.

(Giusti) Yes, and for days I have been trying
to remember who that guy was.

Well, last night I went over to
my girlfriend's place to watch television.

And by accident,
I discovered who the murderer was.

You see, Inspector, I don't have a TV set.
It bores me.

Are you prepared to swear it was him?

May I telephone before I go?

(Telephone rings)

- Yes, speaking.
- (Cat meowing)

Yes, I can.

Oh.

That's bad business.

But don't lose your head.

I'll be right over.

- Coffee?
- Why, yes. Thank you.

Look at this.

I guess it's being in the police that makes me
prefer raincoats that are light gray.

Two, thanks.

Sandro feels that way too, Inspector.

But he doesn't have
any choice for the moment.

I had to send his gray top coat
to the cleaners.

It was all splattered with mud.

Alessandro Marchi.

Look at him!

Look at his face,
ladies and gentlemen of the court.

He is accused of murdering a 17-year-old girl,

Françoise Pigaut.

After attempting to rape her,
he killed her in the most brutal manner,

stabbing her five times
with a switchblade knife.

What feeling can you have for this man?

Only pity.

But that is not the reason we are here.

Our purpose is to see that justice is done.

That justice is done before mankind
and before God.

The result of our interrogation

and all the evidence you have heard
presented for you here in this court

against this man is irrefutable proof!
It's crushing!

I will summarize it briefly for you now.

Observing the print
of the defendant's right forefinger,

you can easily detect a white mark,
indicative of a scar.

The scar is even more evident

in this enlargement
of the defendant's fingerprint.

If we compare
Alessandro Marchi's fingerprints

with those found on the knife
with which the girl was killed,

the similarity is unmistakable,

as has been confirmed by police experts.

Therefore, the fingerprints
on the murder weapon

could only have been made
by Alessandro Marchi.

Furthermore, the defendant's
automobile seat covers

are of a black plastic material called Vilpelle.

And the stains on the victim's coat
were caused by the same material.

You've heard three eyewitnesses
testify under oath

that the murderer wore a light gray topcoat,

and the accused possesses
exactly that kind of topcoat,

which he was in a very great hurry
to have cleaned

because it was spattered with mud.

Unfortunately,
this precaution proved useless.

The material of the coat
had absorbed traces of soil

which, even after cleaning, were sufficient
for spectrographic analysis.

This proved that the soil found in the coat
is the same as the soil in the park

where the young French girl was killed.

Owing to its vicinity to an industrial zone,

it contains distinctive quantities
of potassium, zinc, calcium and cadmium,

that permit unquestionable identification.

What is more, Alessandro Marchi
knew the young victim very well.

In fact, Françoise Pigaut had often been
to the Marchis' home in Bergamo

to study with Sara Marchi, his daughter,

who was her classmate at school in Milan.

At the time, she even spent the night
at their house.

This is another reason
why Alessandro Marchi,

once rejected by the girl
and threatened by scandal,

had to kill her to silence her.

And if all this weren't enough,

we have the testimony
of Miss Gabriella Giusti,

who was in that park
and recognized the man running away.

That man was Alessandro Marchi.

And ladies and gentlemen,

the only accounting he can give us

of his whereabouts that afternoon

is that he was walking the streets
and he expects us to believe him.

(Sighs)

It's very rare,

so much convincing, massive evidence

accumulated against a person
accused of a crime.

So much so, there cannot be

even the possibility of a doubt
in any of your minds.

And it is your duty
to convict and condemn this man.

There, seated before you, is the murderer.

He and only he committed this horrible crime.

This senseless act. And the evidence...

The evidence, all of which points directly

to the accused. To Alessandro Marchi.

Court is adjourned.

It will convene at half past 10:00
tomorrow morning.

(Indistinct chatter)

(Sara) When you left to Paris to
study there for two whole years,

I didn't think that time would ever pass.

You see, Giorgio? Now I can tell you.

I've loved you since I was a little girl,
but you never even noticed me.

- (Giorgio) I noticed you.
- (Laughing)

I remembered you, too.

- You did?
- Yes.

You had short hair and you were
going to the Suardi School.

You didn't notice at all! It was long.

(Laughs)

Yes, of course, it was long.

And you wore it down to
your shoulders, so it was...

- It was like this.
- (Laughing)

I wore it in braids. Always in braids.
My mother made me.

(Chuckles)

(Sara) Anyhow, now we
really know each other.

(Giorgio) Right.

Hey, do you wanna hear the echo?

(Echoing) Sara.

(Echoing) Giorgio.

(Both chuckle)

Thank you for the favor.

Why thank me? I only told the truth.

(Sighs) Perhaps it wasn't.

Well, I swore to it.

Maybe fables become facts under oath.

Hey, look at this church.

Throw the ball to me.

No, it's my turn. (Laughs)

Thanks for being with us.

Your mother had set her heart
on having you home today.

Father, our family motto reads,

"Born a bastard to become a king."

Well, I never got a crack at the king.

On the other hand,
I wasn't lucky enough either

to be a bastard.

No offence, Dad.

I know, but can't you offer your dad a drink?

(Giorgio) Sure, come on in if you like.

(Child) Yes, that's this one.

(Giggling)

Nice digs.
Quite clever, the way you've arranged it.

Hmm, started working
on the difficult things, huh?

(♪ Playing piano ♪)

(♪ Music playing on speakers ♪)

I suppose you've come to preach again.

Sorry.

Of course, it's not your fault.

For you've always been at the top of the class.

How times have changed.

When I was your age,
places like this were the servants' quarters.

Today, they house youthful protesters
with bank accounts.

Hmm. The old are getting sharper every day.

Only, I don't ask for anything
of yours, that's all.

It's very simple.

As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't even exist.
And that bothers you, does it?

Thank you.

But then, your Uncle Giorgio
left you his money.

And that is a reality to you.

Just as mine is to me.

That's true, that conditions me.

But what does it change?

I'd be conditioned anyway,
one way or the other.

The concept's the same though.

Everything that surrounds me,

and everything that you
and people like you have taught me

and shown me

is all a lot of shit.

All a lot of shit.

Your language is somewhat proletarian,

but has a certain precision.

I would say for a person who
passes by you in the street,

you're one of the lucky ones.

But in reality, you're in desperate straits.

You're a derelict.

And you can't lift a finger
to rise above your despair.

Another whisky?

(Chuckles)

- Yes?
- (Cat meowing)

No, no, don't worry.

Yes, of course, I'll bring that up.

The judge had already agreed on that.

No.

You'll see. Everything'll be alright tomorrow.

Hmm, bye.

Now, if it please the court,
the prosecution has affirmed

that the fingerprints which were found
on the murder weapon

and those of Alessandro Marchi are the same.

Yes, it's true.

It's true. We do not deny it.

But the accused, under oath, however,

made a very precise declaration
which I want you to recall.

Yes, it was my knife.

But three weeks before, my car was robbed.

I lost my knife, some gloves

and a black leather bag.

And that was all before I was arrested.

And may I remind the court
that I've called to your attention

a detail of great interest and importance,

which our most worthy prosecutor
has chosen to ignore.

There are also a set of fine prints

which are clearly superimposed
over those of the accused.

Scientific experts have
established beyond doubt

they were made by pig-skin gloves.

So if the murderer took the simple precaution
of putting on a pair of pig-skin gloves,

the only prints found on the murder weapon
would be those of the accused.

As for the dark stains that were found,

as you recall, there were some
on the girl's white raincoat.

I have presented a report to this court

prepared from
the Ministry of Transport Statistics,

which states that 28% of all Italian cars
have black Vilpelle seat covers,

making it easier to deduce that
in Lombardy alone, there are...

Your indulgence, I have it here.

There are 326,507 cars with
that particular type of seat cover.

A number justified by the many
inconveniences in traffic

that, alas, we all suffer.

Now, let us proceed to the key points

which the prosecution has declared
crushing and definitive.

First,

the fact that a man at a hotel window

saw a man in a light gray coat
climb over the wall of the park

cannot even be taken into consideration.

Everyone knows that in public parks
we have voyeurs and thieves,

homos, perverts.

They roam free.

Just the sort of people

who, at the smell of a policeman,
have to leave as quickly as possible.

On the other hand,

the defense has furnished witnesses

who also swear to having seen someone,

a man leaving the park,

a man totally different
from Alessandro Marchi.

I was passing the park on my way to meet...

to meet some friends.

Suddenly, I heard the sirens,

I saw the police cars go through
the main gate of the park,

and I saw the crowds rushing out.

I didn't know what happened,
so I went into the park.

Just out of curiosity.

It had begun to rain again, very heavily.

Near the gate, a blonde young man
in a dark blue raincoat

literally ran into me.

He seemed upset.

He was obviously running away
from something.

He got into a dark green car and drove off.

Thanks for everything.

Well, after all, I only told the truth.

And now we come
to the mud-spattered topcoat.

It's been established beyond doubt
by special examination,

which I now include for the record,

that land surrounding chemical industries
often contain varying amounts

of cadmium, potassium, zinc and calcium.

Therefore,

when you heard Mr Marchi
state in this court under oath

that his coat was muddied by a passing car

going fast at a mud hole,

it is quite feasible,

as this court may easily verify
by the chemical analysis

which I have submitted.

As for the testimony of the
prosecution's key witness, Mrs...

Excuse me.

Miss Giusti.

I believe I can sufficiently
prove her credibility.

Or perhaps,
incredibility would be more accurate.

With your permission, Your Honor.

Proceed.

Will you please remove the makeup
from the corner of your eyes,

near the bridge of your nose?

You wear glasses if I'm not mistaken,
don't you, Miss Giusti?

Well, yes, that is sometimes.

You know, I'm a little near-sighted
and contact lenses hurt my eyes.

One more question.

Had you ever met the accused personally
before this crime?

- No, but I...
- No?

Oh, then you didn't know.

You didn't know that Mr Marchi wore
a toupee for his television appearances?

I didn't know.

But that Friday in the park,
he was wearing a hat pulled down low.

And you can't see a toupee through a hat.

(Giulio) But that Friday evening in the park,
notwithstanding the twilight and the rain,

and the fact that Miss Giusti,
for obvious reasons,

was not wearing her glasses,

she was able to see the fleeing murderer
with a hat pulled down low

and recognized him as the accused.

Yes, yes! That's him!

(Giulio) I've informed the court
of the tests I've personally conducted

in the presence of Inspector Berardi
and members of the District Attorney's office

to prove the credibility
of Miss Giusti's testimony

which identifies Alessandro Marchi
beyond a shadow of a doubt

as the man she saw running
from the scene of the crime,

on the afternoon of Friday the 26th of April.

To summarize,

the results of the 10 tests conducted were

that the witness recognized
the accused three times,

was uncertain three times

and four times mistook someone else for him.

At this point, it must be evident to all of you

that the crushing evidence that
the prosecutor has presented

must come tumbling down in ruins.

Or at the very least,

create grave doubts in your minds.

Oh, yes, I know,

there is still one obscure point remaining.

One might well ask,

where was Alessandro Marchi
on that infamous Friday?

I can prove that my client
has an airtight alibi.

And for that reason,
I request the court's permission

to interrogate Anna Bellini.

I object, Your Honor,
this procedure is highly irregular.

(Laughs)

Also, doesn't it seem a bit strange
that Mr Marchi has waited all this time

to honor us with an explanation
of his whereabouts that Friday?

For an innocent person,

there's always a hope that he won't
have to reveal certain facts

that would compromise him.

And Alessandro Marchi is innocent.

Your Honor,

the accused has desperately
sought to avoid exactly that

to defend his position without sullying
the honor of his family.

And this is no crime.

The Court is retiring to chambers

to consult over this new motion
of the defense counsel.

(Audience murmuring)

(♪ Playing ♪)

Except for my father,
I can't remember one person loving me.

(Giorgio) Get me a cigarette, please.

- Where, Giorgio?
- Over there on the table.

I wonder how this trial will end.

I'm afraid for him.

You came here to avoid thinking about it,
didn't you?

Yes, I know.

Though it's strange to know
I'm the one who needs to love him.

Or someone.

Are you sure you're not
looking for justification?

I don't think so.

I'll put on a record for you.

Françoise's friendship was good for me.

Maybe because she had
all the affection and security I never had.

She was in love, too.

- (♪ Classical music playing on speakers ♪)
- He lives here,

but she never introduced him to me.

They met in secret all the time,

but she acted like she was afraid
to introduce him to anyone.

She didn't even like to talk about it.

The only thing she told me
was that they met for the first time...

(♪ Music volume increasing ♪)

Giorgio.

Giorgio!

When was the last time
you saw Alessandro Marchi?

Friday. It was on the afternoon
that they killed the French girl.

Our records show the date exactly.

Cover your legs
as completely as you can, Miss Bellini.

- Oh, I... I beg your pardon.
- Not at all.

(Clears throat)

- (Clears throat)
- And what did the accused buy

that afternoon in your store?

Isn't the place called
Intimate Garments for Madame?

(Bellini) Yes, he bought a negligee
in black silk voile.

I'd rather have sold him
a white chiffon nightgown.

It was very sweet,
but he preferred the black number.

Do you recall by any chance what size it was?

Uh, 14.

And does the accused know
Mrs Marchi's dress size?

Did you present your wife with that gown?

Well, then who was it for?

In view of the defendant's
reluctance to answer,

I see no point in granting a further extension

of this trial as the defense has requested.

Sandro...

This is the moment to tell us where
and how you spent that afternoon.

Nothing could be worse
than allowing everyone,

including your wife and daughter,

to think that you're a murderer.

Believe me, Sandro, you've got to tell us.

Yes, I know.

Well, I visited my mistress
that Friday afternoon,

as I did every Friday.

I went to see Marta... Uh, Mrs Marta Clerici.

I got there around 3:00, 3:30 at the latest.

I had a present for her.

That dressing gown I had bought.

I like giving her presents, but she'd
had one drink too many, as usual.

- Why don't you open it?
- Oh, later.

It's an excuse to pretend you're here
when you're not here.

- (Chuckles)
- God, I was lit last night.

- (Glass shattering)
- Oh!

The glass she always carried broke,

and a sliver got stuck in the palm of her hand.

It bled a lot.

She must have cut a vein.

Oh, so that's how your shirt got blood on it.

(Doorbell ringing)

Marta Clerici. Profession, good for nothing.

Alone, rich and free. (Chuckles)

Could be anywhere any of her rich friends
have invited her.

When the milk's on the doormat,

it says I'll be left holding what her bill is
for weeks at a time.

But I don't worry, she's a good credit risk.

Have you any idea when the last time was
that you delivered milk to Miss Clerici?

Yes, I keep a record.

I can tell you precisely what the day was.

Just let me take a look.
I got my route book right here.

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday.
Here we are, the 26th of April.

Mmm-hmm. That's the day she left.

Thank you.

Just a minute, Inspector.

That's the day I found the milk
from the day before on the doormat.

So I should think it means
she left this place on Thursday, maybe.

Not on Friday.

How did you find the shirt?

His wife hadn't thrown it away.

It was locked in a bureau drawer.

She'd probably forgotten about it.

Here we are, Inspector. It reacts to this.

(Berardi) Well?

Group B and Rh-negative.

As you recall, it's the blood type
of Françoise Pigaut.

You're aware of the responsibility
you assume under oath before God and man?

Do you swear to tell the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Do you so swear?

I swear.

- With your permission, Your Honor.
- Proceed.

Mrs Marchi, is it true that
on the evening of Friday the 26th of April,

your husband came home
with his shirt spotted with blood

and told you it came from his having helped
an injured employee at the television studio?

- But if I'm not sure, I...
- Then tell us.

Who possessed that bloodied shirt
the police found in your home?

I... I don't know. I mean...

(Shouting) Wasn't it you
who carefully hid that shirt

so the police wouldn't find it
when they made their first search?

Or do you want us to believe the shirt
doesn't belong to anyone in your family?

Mrs Marchi,

on that shirt are the initials A.M.
Alessandro Marchi.

And that blood belongs to the same group
as Françoise Pigaut.

Will you tell us what you know or not?

Your silence is more eloquent than any reply.

ALESSANDRO MARCHI
SENTENCED TO LIFE IMPRISONMENT

La Notte.

Here you go.
Thank you.

Finally we're free and alone together.

Yes, but I wish we could have done it a
different way.

You're crazy.

No way could be better for us.

We ought to send a letter
of thanks to the prosecutor.

Well, even if I did lose the case...

...it wasn't my fault, and
all of a sudden I'm a big lawyer.

The best thing is...

...we're here. Together.

If you hadn't saved that shirt, we'd have
had to go on meeting in secret,

and the murderer would still be
going about his business, unsuspected.

Don't say that.
I'm sure he didn't kill her.

Poor Sandro.

(Laughs)
Sandro, Sandro, Sandro...

No, there's too much light, darling.

Why? I like to see you when we make love.

(Moaning)

(Breathing heavily)

(Rain falling)

(Moaning)

(Gasps)

(Moaning)

(Grunting)

(Both panting)

You frightened me.

Frightened you? Why?

I don't hate anybody.

(Rain pouring)

It's late. I have to go.

It's best we don't see each other for a while.

You've another girl, haven't you?

Bye. I'll call.

It's Sara.

Where has she been half the night
is what I'd like to know.

Well, she's cute and I guess it's high time.

Why? Are you beginning
to like little girls now?

No, not at all.

But I wonder how she's going to take it.

Sooner or later,
she finds out about you and me.

Let's not worry about that now.

I'm too happy.

I adore your mouth.

Well, I better go.

I have to be up at the crack of dawn
and in court by 8:00.

(♪ Classical music playing on speakers ♪)

(Revolver cylinder spinning)

(Man) Evening, sir.

- Fill her up.
- Yes, sir.

Here's another one.

(Camera clicking)

Loredana Minucci, prostitute, 26 years old,
stabbed five times with a switchblade knife.

No fingerprints were found
on the knife, either.

Papers are blasting us.

I was expecting it, though.

"Suspicious resemblance
to the case of Françoise Pigaut."

And here. "Is accused killer in jail innocent?"

Well, that guy murders a poor hooker.

You murder a schoolgirl.

You know what they ought to do?

Give a free hand to the fruits.
They mean well and don't murder anyone.

(Grunting)

Ah, now, wait a minute.

- (Grunting)
- (Groans loudly)

(Groans)

Clobber me because I said
what you bastards did?

But what the hell's the matter with you?
Can't you take a joke?

(Guard) Hey, what's going on in there?

Who's picking fights with who?

Well, at least this time nobody can say
it's Papa who killed that bitch in the park.

(Maria) Sara!

Why "Sara"?

Because I called her a bitch?

Or because Papa may get out of jail?

Don't be ridiculous, Sara.

You almost sound glad he's in prison.

Well, it's not easy discovering you're
betrayed and cast aside for all that time.

- And by someone you trusted, too.
- You play that role quite well.

(Phone ringing)

Hello?

But who is it, please?

(Dialing)

(Phone ringing)

Rotten stories.
Since a killer went for a prostitute,

does it follow he's the one
that killed the French girl?

But considering the switchblade knife

was like the one that was used
to kill Françoise Pigaut...

And the scene of this murder
is identical to the other one.

Yes. Why couldn't it be? Yes, indeed.

In theory, they might be the same.

Only, the facts show the killers
are fundamentally different men.

- It's getting cold.
- Oh, excuse me.

It's freezing.

Fundamentally,

in the first place try to analyze properly

the killer of the French girl
and the killer of the prostitute.

In the former case,
the motive was clearly sexual.

She was violently attacked.

Not in the second crime.

You will agree, a little money would have
left him satisfied with a girl like that.

So, the murderer is someone else.

(Reporter) How far have you come
with the investigation, Inspector?

(Berardi) How far?

Well, it seems the last to see her alive
were two of her co-workers.

The Minucci girl left her usual beat
with the excuse that she had a date.

She wouldn't tell them any more.

The two girls have also declared
that another car pulled out

and followed the Minucci girl's car.

But they can't say whether
it was a coincidence or not.

(Alessandro) Please, Giulio,
get me out of here.

I'm doing all I can to speed up your appeal,

but it takes time, you know.

(Sighing) I don't know if I can face it for long.

Torture's killing me.

You can stick it out. Everything will be okay.

You'll see.

Here, you have to sign this.

(Butler) Good evening, Master Giorgio.

(Giorgio's mother) It took no less an occasion
than your birthday to bring you back to us.

(Ringing servant bell)

How are you getting along at school?

Mother,

I haven't been to school for two years.

Oh, really?

Well, perhaps dear, it would do you good
to get away from here for a while.

This tiresome provincial life
saddens so many.

Especially you young people.

You could go back to... to France. To Paris.

You lived there a long time.

You've plenty of friends there.

(Ringing servant bell)

Well, dear,

here's your birthday cake.

Happy birthday.

Giorgio!

(Snickering)

BRERA SQUARE

TODAY CULTURE BELONGS
TO A GIVEN STATUS.

THERE'S NO ART FOR ART'S SAKE,
ART BEYOND STATUS.

(♪ Slow instrumental music ♪)

Inspector.

There's a guy on the line who insists
on talking to you personally.

The voice is disguised, but he says he killed
the French girl and the prostitute.

- Trace the call on the switchboard while I talk.
- That's what I was going to do.

Inspector Berardi, who's speaking?

(Man) I'm a smart killer, Inspector.

A little smarter than all of you.

I've already killed twice and got away with it.

And I'm going to get away with it again.

Do you hear, Inspector?

I'm going to kill again, and soon.

Go on. I'm listening.

(Line disconnects)

(Sighs)

The call was too short.

We didn't have any chance of tracing it.

- It's incredible.
- What?

Merest possibility that another murder...

But what the hell can we do?

We can't patrol that big park day and night.

A one-track criminal, the same weapon.

Now, where are our likely suppliers?
Who are they?

Any news?

We sent a message to all the shops.

Let's hope someone turns up.

Giulio?

Giulio?

Giulio?

(Woman) No, stop it, please!

(Woman struggling)

(Woman moaning)

(Woman) Giulio! (Moans)

Let me go!

(Woman moans)

(Exclaims) No!

- (Moaning)
- (Giulio panting)

- Oh, leave me!
- (Giulio) Oh, come on, Sara.

No! No!

- (Sara moaning)
- (Door opens)

I know I look a fool, Maria.

I... I was just showing her some, uh, judo,
wasn't I, Sara?

(Breathing heavily)

Maria...

Maria, let's not have a scene. I...

- Come on, it was nothing.
- (Sobbing)

(Maria) You think you can always have
whatever you please, don't you?

Whatever you like, you grab,
and you don't give a damn who you hurt.

You know, you're prettier when you're angry.

Yes, but Sara's much prettier than me!

And also much younger.

Because now you've switched to teenagers,
haven't you?

The fact is you feel old
so you pick out Lolitas.

Men like young girls because they're so

- irresistible.
- (Gasps)

(Sobbing)

Justify it.

Convince me as you'd convince a jury.

You're such a master
at convincing against evidence.

I'm a very good lawyer.

Giulio,

what makes you so cruel?

(Yelling, laughing)

(Giggling)

- Up!
- (Children crying)

(Slapping)

- Morning.
- Morning.

(Footsteps approaching)

- (Woman) No!
- (Man) Oh, come on.

(Woman) I said no.

Anyway, this isn't the place.

(Kissing)

THE PARK MURDERER
STRIKES AGAIN

(Woman over PA)
Alitalia announces the arrival of flight 412

from Singapore, Bangkok, Tehran and Rome.

Passengers will please claim their luggage
at the baggage counter number four.

(Man) I petition the court to reopen the trial
under article 560

to hear the testimony of Marta Clerici,

who was unable to appear
at the previous session

due to her absence from Italy.

He did call, then?

I refer to Alessandro Marchi.

Now, search your memory.

Friday the 26th of April.

Yes, Sandro Marchi was my visitor
on most Fridays, Your Honor.

I remember I'd cut my hand
and he helped me bandage it.

Then we made love.

(Gasps)

- Why, does it hurt?
- No, you were pinching me. (Laughs)

Ah.

- Oh, there's blood on your shirt.
- Hmm?

Mmm. (Chuckles)

(Whispering indistinctly)

I've prepared you a little surprise.

Ah.

(Chuckles)

(Whispering indistinctly)

(Chuckling)

Hello.

He stayed all day?
The whole afternoon, that is?

Yes. Yes, he did, Your Honor.

But, uh, are you quite sure?

(Marta) Even if I drink, I have a good memory.

Now, one more question.

What is your blood group, Mrs Clerici?

Blood? The limited percentage
that can run in all of my whisky.

The last time was group B and Rh negative.

That's it.

(♪ Organ playing in distance ♪)

Will you pass me some wine, please?

Thanks.

(Maria) Why aren't you eating, Sara?

(Sara) I'm not hungry.

Eat something now.

(Sighs) Yes, Papa.

Sorry to run.

I shall be late to an appointment.

Thanks for lunch.

(Glass shattering)

(Groaning, panting)

- (Grunting)
- (Clattering)

(Grunting)

(Panting)

(Sobbing)

(Bell tolling)

Here you are, Inspector, sweet and strong.

(Berardi) Hmm. That'll be the day.

What's the matter? Are you still not
convinced that Marchi is innocent?

Yes, I am.

(Slurping)

It's strong for sure.

- And boiling hot!
- Let it cool.

- (Intercom alarming)
- Yes?

(Man) The lady from the shop
is here, Inspector.

I'll be right with her.

- Come on.
- Yeah.

Yes, I've sold two of that kind of switchblade
to the same person here.

7- Do you know who he is?
- Sure, I know who.

He lives near me.

This way, Inspector.

You there, you come with me.

(Man) Whoa!

(Buzzing)

Ring.

(Bell ringing)

- (Panting)
- (Berardi) Excuse me, lady.

Did anyone come into the courtyard just now?

(Lady) If the gate's shut, no one came in.

(Berardi) May we just have a look?

(Lady) Well, just wait a minute
and I'll call my husband.

(Man) Madam, we're the police.

(Lady) I don't care,
I'll call my husband all the same.

Isn't Giulio having dinner with us tonight?

(Maria) No, he's busy.

(Sara) Well,

it's natural for him to be tired of us.

He was here every night.

(Phone ringing)

No, never mind. I'll go.

Yes?

That's right.

Blackmail?

But...

(Sighs)

Yes.

If I must.

You needn't repeat it.

Yes, without fail.

I'll be there in half an hour.

I knew you would come.

Now, say I'm a murderer.

- Look, I...
- Say, "I was the killer."

I was the killer.

Louder.

I was the killer!

I killed twice

to get you free,

and here,

where I can kill you.

You killed her.

I saw you. I was there when you escaped.

Françoise was mine.

And you killed her!

Why did you do it?

How could you?

How?

(Struggling) Let me go. I'll tell everyone!

Vous étes une sale béte!

I'll tell everyone!
I'll tell your wife and Sara.

(Muffled sobbing)

(Alessandro) I couldn't stand it.

I had to make her stop.
I couldn't stand her screaming that way.

- (Gunshot)
- (Loud groaning)

(Gasps)

(Sighs)

(Sobbing)

- (Grunting)
- (Groaning)

(Panting)

(Gasping)

- (Gunshot)
- (Shouting)

- (Gunshot)
- (Screaming)

(Groaning)

(Gunshot)

- (Gunshot)
- (Groaning, gasping)

(Gun clicks, fires)

(Groans)

(Grunts)

(♪ Classical music playing ♪)