Original subtitles

Nice room, considering the price.

No bugs anyhow, that's for sure.

There. Little bit of that good old California sunshine.

Sort of warms up the bones.

The bathroom's to your right down at the end of the hall,

and, um, well... that about does it.

Grazie.

Molto gentile. Very, very nice.

Uh, something else, uh, I can do for you?

Oh. Sì, sì, grazie.

Good-bye.

Seeing as how you're a foreigner,

I think I'd better give you a little friendly advice.

You see, we have an old American custom.

You give an additional fee for good service.

That way, you make friends.

You understand?

Yes.

Now, uh, one dollar, uh, uh...

Hey. Hey, take, uh, the, uh... take the 25 cents, uh, please.

Yes. Thank you very much.

Now, remember, any time you want anything,

you just ask for Joey.

I ask for Joey.

I remember Joey.

Bacio!

Ha! Bacio!

How much for the David?

It's marked $110. You can have it for $55.

Lovely price. I'll take it.

Aren't you terribly excited about going back to Italy?

These Roman pieces are very nice,

especially at the price.

They look like marble.

It's our own process.

We're really rather proud of...

Would you excuse me for a minute?

Are you looking for something special?

Bellezza.

Yes, we do have some beautiful things here.

Oh, la signorina parla Italiano?

No.

I understand a little.

Oh, but-but you Italian, no?

Italian descent.

Only Italian blood make, uh, make such beauty.

Look, I-I have a customer waiting.

Uh, maybe your father Siciliano?

Yes.

Uh, maybe from between Caltagirone and Pietraperzia,

up in the mountain a small village called, uh, Sciccata?

Oh, yes.

Up here the church.

Always on top, and then one little street that goes...

goes down and down and down,

like a... like the happy dog chasing the memories.

How did you know that my father came from there?

It's a famous family in the Campagna... Bacio.

Bacio. The kiss.

It's old family, very... very well known.

Very fine. Much respect, huh?

Oh, my family come from Sciccata, too.

Did you come here to see my father?

Oh, sì, uh, sì.

Um, uh, Uncle Giovanni tell me I...

- I bring greetings. - Which one?

The little Uncle Giovanni who is married

to the... to the daughter of il pescatore.

You know, the one who live, uh...

It doesn't matter.

Uh, my father should be back in about two hours.

Well, then, uh, I come back, huh?

Would you care to leave your name?

Sì. Uh, Paulo Porro. That's me.

In English, it mean, uh...

It mean a... a wart.

Uh, arrivederci, signorina.

Bellezza.

Ah.

Oh, brother.

With his dough,

Bacio will be the richest man in the mountains.

Do you know what this means?

He'll be like a little king.

The men will tip their hats at him,

and the women will practically crawl at his feet.

And for a man who came from Sicily

30 years ago, without even shoes,

it's like going to heaven without having to die for it.

I can understand why he's so anxious to get back.

But he's selling everything.

He's selling everything right from under me!

Just like half of the business wasn't rightfully mine!

It isn't.

You know as well as I do that it is.

Mr. Dodson, you remember when my father was still alive,

when he used to build all the moulds,

when he used to make all the plaster castings,

why, when he even sat at that paint bench

without a ventilator,

slowly killing himself with the paint fumes.

You saw it. You were there.

I saw it, but I never saw papers stating

there was a partnership between Mr. Bacio and your father.

But this was a family business!

Whoever thought of legal documents?

It was taken for granted.

Giangiacomo, try to understand.

The courts do not take anything for granted.

Well, I thought maybe you can help me.

No, I can't.

Look, I am Mr. Bacio's lawyer.

Now, even if you could produce evidence

supporting your claim, I cannot act against him.

Well, suppose you can find a letter

or something in the file? Something...?

Are you accusing me of hiding something from you?

Well, you keep all the files, you handle all the books.

Nobody knows what this business is worth

except you and the old man.

Big secret!

Man, I grew up in this business.

Half of it is legally mine.

I don't even know what it's worth.

I'm sorry, my boy. Mr. Bacio wants it that way.

Although I must admit, I never could understand why.

Well, I'll tell you why.

Because he's the boss, and we're the slaves, that's why!

That's the way he thinks.

All of us, slaves. Even his own kids.

Massimo and Elizabeth, and that poor old Serafina.

Why, the way he's kicked her around is...

Now, that is enough!

I told you, I wish I could help,

but you have made no attempt whatsoever

to understand the legalities involved...

Oh, I understand, I understand, all right,

that if I am to get any kind of a settlement, I must do it

before he leaves the country, and all alone,

because you are as afraid of Bacio as everybody else!

Acme, Giustino, dela Vega,

all the way from Main Street to Long Beach.

I go around all day... Sell, sell.

I sell everybody.

I get lots of nice orders.

They're very happy to buy Bacio products, the very best.

And they're happy to pay this price.

You have the orders in writing?

What writing?

It's cash, my son. All cash.

Papa, you don't seem to realize... Ah!

Bella. Al dente.

Grazie.

- Liza? - Mm?

I think it is good you go back to Italy before it is too late.

What's good about it?

Ah, you're getting pretty old for not have a husband yet.

You haven't given me much of a chance to...

I don't know.

In this country, the women is forget how to be a women.

All her time mixed up in a man's business.

You took me out of school when I was 15,

and put me to work in your office.

I do a man's job,

and save you a man's salary.

But I haven't had time to...

even say hello to a man, much less go out with one.

You have been a good daughter.

I make it up to you.

As soon as we get back to old country,

I give you a big dowry, and I find you a good husband.

I don't want you to find me a husband!

Liz, please, control yourself.

And don't you tell me what to do, Max!

You keep your mouth shut!

I am sick and tired of everybody telling me...

You show more respect to your father!

I'm not a child anymore!

And I'm no slave, and nobody is going to...

buy me a husband!

Not even my respected father.

Papa, can I please go to my room?

As soon as you finish your supper.

- Massimo? - Mm?

You talked with Fiastri?

He'll buy all the moulds.

For cash?

Half down on delivery, the rest in 90 days.

Uh, you told him no.

He's good for the money, Papa. He's the biggest dealer

in San Francisco. He'll pay the money.

You are not selling my moulds!

Your moulds?

You're not selling my father's originals, and not mine.

They belong to me.

They made money for you for all these years.

Now they're gonna make money for me in my own shop.

Your own shop?

Yes. Why not? You are quitting.

You said you're going back to Italy

to become a big man. Okay, go!

But you can't just leave me here

with nothing to show for all the years

my father and me put together to make you rich!

Jack, you're losing your head.

Oh, what am I supposed to do? Let him here rob me?

I pay to bring your father here to America.

He arrive with a dirty pair of pants, a torn shirt,

one wife and one baby. That's you.

I pay to eat, for clothes and house to live.

My father worked for you night and day.

Only to pay back what he owe me.

Sure. Imported slave labor!

This is a family business.

This is no family!

There's only you, and for you, there's nobody else but you.

Not even your own kids count.

You would leave them behind without a dime

if they don't go to Italy with you.

That's what you said, isn't it?

Didn't he say that to you?

And to you? Didn't he say that?

Serafina, the bell.

And you, Serafina... What is he doing for you

for all the years you've been everything but his legal wife?

What has he?

Serafina, the doorbell!

Uh, buona serra, signorina.

Sì?

Um, uh... Sono venuto...

Oh, no. I speak English.

Va bene. So you speak English. What do you want to say?

Uh, I am come to visit Mr. Enrico Bacio.

Oh, no, no, bet... better that you come back tomorrow.

Oh, perpiacere, please.

Tell him, uh, Paulo Porro from Sciccata come...

No, no, it's not possible...

Porro, you say?

Yeah, from Sciccata where he is born.

His Uncle Giovanni tell me I-I bring greetings.

Uh, also I am in San Francisco, but-but I...

Ma non.

Non e possibile.

Sit. Accomodi.

Sit. Accomodi.

Oh. Oh.

I tell him. I tell him.

I tell him right now. No waiting.

Uh, grazie, grazie.

Porro!

I am not surprised you all against me.

You want me to stay here because you think only of yourselves.

If this is the gratitude I get for...

- Padrone, a young man. - Ah, do not interrupt.

- From Sciccata. - I told you...

From Sciccata. A Porro.

Porro?

Paulo Porro.

A Porro?!

He was in this afternoon looking for you.

Why you didn't told me?

Well, I forgot.

Massimo... call the police.

- The police?! - Why, Papa?

Do not ask why! Call the police!

My life is in danger. I get my shotgun.

Well, now, what's all that about?

Il destino, Elizabetta.

The fate.

Some people can never escape the fate.

Never. Never.

Language is more than a system of communication between people.

In a way, it's a permanent record of experience,

and people of different cultures

often react differently to the same experience.

The great translator is often as creative

as the original author

because he's not translating words,

but the meaning of words.

Oh, for example, there were some enormous mistakes made...

Excuse me, Father. Telephone for you.

For me?

Well, who is it, do you know?

Yes, Father. It's the Valley police station.

Hmm. You, too?

Only when they need an Italian.

I'm sorry, Father, but, uh, this time, I guess it's urgent.

He said something to do about murder.

All right, then. Attempted murder!

But did he wave a gun at you, or a knife?!

Or make any kind of a move?

It makes no difference what he do or don't do!

He's gonna kill me.

You let him go now, he kill me for sure!

Signore Bacio...

Please, why you say these terrible things?

I do not talk to you.

I do not even look you in the face.

How you know I want to kill you?! Huh?

Do I make some, um, how you say?

Um... minacciare?

Talk English!

Threaten.

He is asking if he ever threatened this man.

Thank you for coming, Father. Thank you.

Non necessario, Padre.

His name is Porro.

Sì.

That is threat enough for me.

But I told you!

A threat is not enough reason to hold him in jail!

Who say so?! You?

What do you know?

The Bacios and the Porros always kill each other! Always!

Serafina, is it true? Answer yes or no.

In Sicily, yes.

- Ah. - But-but why? Why?

Mamma mia. Mamma, tell me why now.

You know why, you killer!

Sergeant, uh, may I suggest that we ask this gentleman

to tell us why the Porros and the Bacios

are always killing each other?

Uh, yeah. Yeah, Mr. Bacio, tell us why.

I don't know why!

The vendetta... it start 150 years ago.

So long everybody's forget why.

But it don't stop until everybody's dead, that I know.

Oh, you mean to say,

you don't even know how and why it started?

What difference does it make?

The hate's the same.

You, Porro... you hate me, no?

You come to this country to kill me, yes!

No, no! But...

Yeah, but maybe he try to kill me, yeah.

Yes. Yes. Maybe you better put him in the jail!

Now, stop it! That's enough!

We're not in Sicily now.

We don't recognize this old blood feud

or whatever you call it

as a reason for holding him in jail.

Where do you live, kid?

Uh, Hotel Bella Vista, near the stazione.

All right, Father, please explain to this boy

that I have no reason for holding him.

But I will have if he's found

prowling around Bacio's property!

Also, that he's here on a tourist visa,

and if he don't behave himself,

the least that can happen to him is

that he will be deported from this country.

Now all of you, get out of here!

Sì, sì.

Basta. We'll go. We'll go.

Thank you, Father. Thank you.

Sergeant, you making a big mistake.

This Porro come to this country to kill me.

He's a malandrino.

A killer. You understand? A killer!

But why did you go to see Mr. Bacio, young man?

Oh, I am in San Francisco,

visiting, uh, my cousin from Sciccata.

He say, "Go see Bacio in Los Angeles.

Bacio very nice man, um, uh, very, uh..."

How you say, ospitable?

Hospitable.

Mm. Very hospitable.

Uh... This man, he's, um...

from Sciccata, huh?

I think maybe... my cousin, uh, Fiastri

from San Francisco's not a very nice man.

Yeah.

I think maybe, uh, he play bad joke on me, huh?

I think maybe I go back San Francisco

and-and pull out the teeth, he don't smile so big.

I think you'd better stay out of trouble,

or you're liable to find yourself in jail.

Oh... I do not worry now.

Now I am friends with a famous avvocato!

Not vegetable, Perry. Lawyer.

Thank you.

But as far as friends go...

Ah, please. Um, that was my joke.

I listen to what the father say, don't you worry.

From now on, I stay away from trouble forever.

Hey!

Stop! Stop!

Signore Bacio?

Are you dead?

Oh, mamma mia.

You?! Porro?

- You! - No! No! No!

No, signore, I didn't hit...

Malandrino, you on my property. I kill you first.

Aah!

Operator, get me the police.

There's... there's been a murder.

Pazzia... pazzia.

Crazy. Everything's crazy.

This-this telegram...

It say 12:00, so I go 12:00.

Telegram was sent to you?

It's in Italian.

"Come to my... laboratories."

It's a funny word for him to use.

"Will give you $5,000 to go away and leave me alone forever.

Signed, Bacio."

So, of course, you hurried out there.

Did you see anyone else when you arrived?

Only Bacio, lying on the earth,

in-in the dark, like-like dead.

I... I run to him, I-I shake him.

I say, uh, "You all right, Signore Bacio?"

He open the eyes, he see me,

and he... he make sound like a...

like an angry lion.

He get up, and he... and point the, um...

How you say, uh, fucile?

- Gun. - He point the gun at me.

I say, "Mr. Bacio, I... I do not hit you."

He say, "You on my property, I-I kill you!"

I see he gonna do it for real.

I do not die for somebody else.

- I break his head. - You hit him?

No, no. I... I take away the gun,

and I... and I throw it away.

I-I throw it away. I...

He jump at me, and... and then I hit him.

The old man is a strong fighter, and...

But I'm younger, so-so-so, he fall...

he fall down again, and...

and then I think fast.

"Paulo, better you go away."

So I go away running on two feet.

Where did you get the knife?

What knife?

The knife, the file,

whatever it was that was used to stab him.

Why you-you ask such a thing?

Somebody hit the old man in the head, maybe.

I, uh... I punched him once, and I...

and I kick him another time.

Wh-What does stabbing got to do with it?

That's how he was killed, Paulo.

He was stabbed in the back of the neck.

Oh. Mamma mia.

It's pretty messy in here.

The police have asked us not to clean up yet.

Where did you find your father?

Over there.

And he was dead when you found him?

Yeah.

Pretty crowded room, isn't it?

Well, we've never had enough space

to keep up with the growth of the business.

Not enough storage, not enough...

What's the matter?

Something missing?

No, no. I-I'd just forgotten, we'd moved some moulds

to the other side of the shop, that's all.

Oh. By the way... did your father own a shotgun?

Yes.

Do you know where it is?

In his room, I suppose.

Wonder if I could see it.

All right.

Uh, maybe you wouldn't mind getting it for me

while I take a look around outside here.

Sure.

Mr. Drake?

The shotgun isn't here.

I don't understand it.

My father always kept that gun in his room.

Doesn't matter.

You say you were on your way home

when you saw Porro running down the street?

- That's right. - Were you driving a truck?

No, no, my own car.

Well, a small truck carrying a heavy load left here

in a hurry last night.

How do you know that?

Tire tracks... and it rained earlier, remember?

Yeah.

Does that have anything to do with the shotgun?

Possibly. I'll have to tell the police.

Maybe their lab can figure it out.

You mean, like, whose truck was here and why?

Or maybe you could find out the real story

of last night for me, Mr. Bacio.

Oh, course, Mr. Drake. I'll do what I can.

Did Mr. Bacio leave a will?

Not that I know of.

At least, he, uh...

he would never let me write him one.

Some kind of superstition.

Then his son and his daughter inherit everything?

Yes. Unless this, um...

Unless what, Mr. Dodson?

Their cousin, Giangiacomo, seems to think

he has a 50% claim against the business.

He has documentation to support his claim?

Absolutely none.

Nor does he have any witnesses

to substantiate a verbal agreement.

So you're suggesting

this Giangiacomo had a motive for killing his uncle?

I am suggesting nothing.

Now, Mr. Mason, you came here for information.

I'm only trying to...

Of course, Mr. Dodson. Of course.

And how much will the Bacio estate actually amount to?

I would estimate... half a million dollars.

Bacio had intended to liquidate,

but the problem was, he wanted all cash.

He had a mania about cash.

He didn't want to leave anything behind,

not even a guaranteed, short-term note.

Cash, all cash. No matter who.

Pay now, 100% cash.

I can almost hear him.

I can hear it now.

"Cash, all cash!"

And what is wrong with cash, huh?

Oh, no.

The death of our dearly beloved father will not be allowed

to destroy this business,

or the principles which he so successfully created.

Therefore, we will go on as before,

a closely-knit family.

La famiglia, huh?

Each doing his bit to make the business even more successful.

Grazie, Serafina.

I intend to make Bacio the biggest name

in plaster reproductions,

a truly lasting memorial to our father.

Hmm. Count me out.

Hmm?

I've been jailed in this factory

for as long as I can remember.

I intend to go... husband hunting.

I'm opening my own shop, Max.

I cannot stay in this house any more.

I go with Giangiacomo.

The police have cold and unsentimental minds.

Show them a motive, and they suspect a murderer.

Each of us in this room had a motive for killing my father.

You're not accusing me of...

Did you want to go back to Italy?

Oh, Massimo, how can you ask your sister?

Most of the moulds are missing, Jack.

The ones you claim as yours.

They were taken the night my father was killed.

Taken away in a truck.

Yeah? What about it?

Did my father catch you stealing those moulds?

I only took what belongs to me.

Ah.

My father claimed they were his.

Giangiacomo is right, I know! That's why I...

And what did you do, Serafina?

Did you help Giangiacomo, perhaps?

What if I did?

The moulds are his.

And perhaps you hit my father on the head, huh?

According to the police doctor...

Elizabeth, please.

I-I had to hit him.

I-I had to strike your father!

He was going to shoot Giangiacomo!

And maybe the blow killed him, Serafina!

You've said many times you intended to kill.

Max!

Now, what are you driving at?!

I am thinking for my family, Elizabeth.

It is my responsibility now that my father is dead.

There isn't any more family, Max.

I accept this responsibility,

even if it means that I must lie for you.

Depend on me, and no harm will come to any of you.

Everything goes on exactly as it was

when my father was alive.

And look what happened to him.

Nothing happened to him...

until he tried to sell out.

It's good to know

none of us would do such a thing.

Il Bacione.

He has... come back.

Well, please have him call the office the minute he comes in.

Yes, it's very urgent. Thank you.

Try, uh, Father Reggiani.

Oh, I don't think that...

I've been calling all over town for you.

What's the problem?

Friends at headquarters tell me things, especially bad things.

Like they found a telegram on Bacio's body, signed "Porro."

What's in the telegram?

My friend couldn't tell me exactly 'cause it's in Italian.

But he says it's definitely a threatening message.

Paulo never mentioned sending a telegram.

If he had, he wouldn't.

Paul, see if you can get a copy of that telegram.

Then check it out with the telegraph company.

- Okay. - Oh, wait a minute.

How are we doing with Paulo's cousin in San Francisco?

He's a hard man to contact. They say he's out fishing.

Fishing? Did you get the name of the boat?

Even tried ship-to-shore telephone.

They couldn't raise him.

Think he's trying to avoid us?

Could be, but I wouldn't know why.

Rather coincidental time to go fishing, isn't it?

And it's just occurred to me that Paulo visiting Bacio

at this precise time is a little coincidental, too.

Paul, suppose you check

with the other members of the Bacio family on...?

Can't be done, Perry.

They're all tied up as prosecution witnesses,

and they'll all sing the same song.

Namely, your boy did it.

- Is that so? - Maybe he did.

Every member of the family agrees on it.

Oh, Paul, stop that!

When I think of that poor boy

with those beautiful brown eyes and that lovely smile

even being accused of murder, it makes me want to...

Perry, can't you think of something?

Do something!

Why are you so concerned?

Well, uh... I'm not! It's, uh...

It's just that he's, uh... so Italian!

Let's go, Paul.

Buon giorno, Counselor.

And top of the morning to you.

How's your arm?

It hurts.

What is it, Paulo?

Uh, these people, uh, why are they here?

Who are they?

Oh, I-I don't know.

They make sounds like Italiano.

All rise.

And you say, Doctor, the death was caused

by this or a similar weapon?

By that weapon.

The same file which has been identified

as belonging there in the shop.

Thank you, Doctor.

But your autopsy report also mentions a slight concussion.

Are you able to tell us when this happened, Doctor?

Yes. Before death occurred.

How long before death occurred?

Perhaps a few moments.

Four or five minutes, no more than that.

What did you see when you were driving home

a few minutes before midnight?

I saw the defendant, hurrying from the direction of our place,

running off down the street.

Did you say "running," Mr. Bacio?

He ran as if the devil himself were after him.

And what did you yourself do then?

Well, naturally, I was disturbed

over the things my father had said

earlier in the day in the police station.

So, when I drove into the yard, I went back of the house

to see if anything was wrong.

Were you able to see anything at all?

And if so, what did you find there?

My father...

with that file stuck in the back of his neck.

Dead.

You admit that you found tire tracks, Lieutenant.

Did you locate the vehicle,

the truck, which made those tracks?

We did.

It belonged to the young man, nephew of the deceased,

Mr. Giangiacomo Bacio.

And yet despite the fact

that you knew this young man's truck had been there,

near the scene of the crime, and close to the time of the murder,

you simply dropped this line of investigation?

You made no further...?

Mr. Mason, I've already testified.

Weather reports showed that the rain

which caused those tracks to exist occurred

nearly three hours prior to the murder.

Now, this coincided

with the truck owner's statement to police

that he had only come to pick up a few tools at about 10:00.

Since his statement has been verified

by every member of the Bacio family...

The repetition of those statements

is hardly best evidence, Lieutenant.

I know, sir, but I'm simply trying

to save the court's time by explaining that...

The court knows how to read its own watch, Lieutenant.

On the other hand, Mr. Mason, this is only a hearing.

Now, perhaps this line of questioning...

I only wanted to ask a question about the shotgun, Your Honor.

Now, did the police find any connection

between the aforementioned tire tracks

and the shotgun of the deceased which was discovered nearby?

No. That shotgun bore fingerprints of the deceased,

and of the defendant, no one else.

And since the defendant has already admitted

that he tore the gun away from Mr. Bacio...

That will do, Lieutenant.

We've had enough improper evidence for the moment.

Now, let's return to the telegram

which you state you found on the body.

Exhibit three,

the supposed threatening telegram,

allegedly sent by the defendant to Mr. Bacio.

But I did not send it, Mr. Mason!

Be quiet, Paulo.

I will not be quiet!

He sent me a telegram, yes, but I send him nothing!

I tell you the truth.

I... I am honest Italian boy.

Sì, sì.

This is a court of law.

You must behave with dignity and respect.

You're not in the market place in Sciccata now.

But it is not true...

I've been told the Italians in court are people

who've been brought here from other towns by the prosecution.

Who are they? Why are they mad at you?

Tell the truth.

I have six months,

maybe one year, to-to make turismo all over America.

And, uh, to work is, uh, to lose the time.

And also, the law say

that I cannot work without work permit.

If you didn't work,

where did you get money for the turismo?

What's money for? To eat and sleep.

If I find a-a way to, uh,

eat and sleep for nothing, I-I don't need the money, no?

I go to New York.

I, uh, open the telephone book.

I look for name of Porro... Why Porro?

Well, you forget, it's my name.

And I find, uh, which has the best, uh, house,

uh, which is, uh, the most richest.

I go.

Buona sera, Signore.

Uh, you are Pasquale Porro?

I am Paulo Porro, your cousin from Sciccata.

I bring you the greetings from Uncle Giovanni.

How do you know he has an Uncle Giovanni?

Hey, all Sicilians got Uncle Giovanni.

And all Sicilians are good people with big hearts,

happy to see cousin from Italy.

So, they make an invitation I visit their house.

Free room and board.

Now, Paulo is no pig.

Pass three day, and I say I go.

And they say, uh, "Please remain one more week."

So, New York, Chicago, Boston,

uh, San Francisco.

Hey, uh, bellezza.

Sleep good, eat good.

And turismo cost nothing, all free.

But why all those people out there...

Why they mad at me?

What... what wrong I do them?

Now, they accepted you without question.

They trusted you, perhaps even loved you.

But you made fools of them. You hurt them.

But they... they have no right to... to call me murderer.

Paulo, if they ever get on the stand,

they'll give Burger a chance to call you ungrateful,

a swindler, a petty racketeer and a thief.

Now, let's have the truth about this telegram.

This the... the telegram they say I-I write to Bacio?

A copy, yes.

It's a threat that says unless he pays you $5,000...

Mr. Mason, please. I...

I go to school. I-I do not write...

Now I don't believe you, Paulo.

Please, Mr. Mason, I... I swear to you, I...

I do not send...

- I believe him, Perry. - Oh?

In fact, I'm not even sure

that this telegram was sent by an Italian.

Yes, Paul?

I found the fisherman, Perry. Uncle Fiastri, remember?

It's in the use of the verb here... to earn or to profit.

Tell me tomorrow, Father,

before court, first thing in the morning.

But Perry...

We're on our way to San Francisco.

Della will call you.

I'm back in the shop, Mario.

Mario?

Who you? What do you want?

I'm Perry Mason. This is Mr. Paul Drake.

We've been trying to get in touch with you for two days.

- Get out. - Now look, Mr. Fiastri.

I say, get out!

Do I have to get a court order?

Oh, no, no, no, no, please, please.

I don't want to get mixed up in no court business.

Then tell me why you sent Paulo Porro to visit Enrico Bacio?

Oh, that... Un scherzo. Just a joke.

I am a fool, I know. Idiot.

But how do I know nice boy like this

has got a black secret in his heart?

Then there actually is a feud

between the Porros and the Bacios?

Oh, once there was.

When I'm a little boy back in Italy, I hear the story.

Porro and Bacio always killing each other like crazy.

But one day, when this Porro boy come to me,

I don't think it's even the same family.

Just coincidence, that's all.

Paulo brought you, uh, greetings

from your Uncle Giovanni, I presume?

How do you know this?

Just tell us something else.

Did you know that old Mr. Bacio was selling out

and returning to Italy?

Oh, sure. I'm dealing with Bacio to buy the moulds.

Uh, sculpture, like this, you know?

But, uh... Bacio's a bad man.

Cash. Always cash.

Half now, half in 90 days.

I say, I give security to make up the note.

No, he says.

He says with him back in Italy, I try to crook him!

So, what did you do then?

Hey, wait a minute. Maybe I better not answer so much

until I talk with my lawyer.

Mr. Fiastri, I'm not concerned with who owns those moulds now.

I'm only trying to prevent the state

from sending an innocent countryman of yours

to the gas chamber for murder.

Ah, sì, sì, sì, sì.

Poor boy.

That Paulo does not fool me.

You know, I am maybe the one Italian in all the world

who does not have an Uncle Giovanni.

But me. Me... I got a big mouth.

I say to the son,

"You tell the old man if he don't stop calling me crook,

I will fix him so he never go back to Italy alive."

You spoke to who?

The son. Son of Bacio.

You know, Massimo, he's called.

I speak with him to help me make the deal with old Bacione.

That's when I tell him the old story

about the Porro-Bacio feud.

But I'm only laughing about it.

And what did Massimo say to you?

Well, he laugh, too.

But then he say, "Send the boy to my father.

Tell the boy nothing."

He say, uh, "Maybe the boy's name will scare Papa good,

he'll make the deal, do what we both want."

So, I send Paulo.

I help make the joke.

I am a funny man.

A real Pagliaccio. Oh.

But why you don't ask Massimo, not me?

I didn't know anything about this Porro kid.

I didn't know who he was.

But you did know about selling the moulds.

You were upset

because you considered them your private property.

Of course. My father was a sculptor, was a true artist.

He made them.

The moulds of his statuary

are the most valuable things we have.

Then tell me.

Tell me where those moulds are now.

Now, let me warn you.

I've just returned from San Francisco

where I talked with Mr. Fiastri.

All right, most of them are still in my truck.

I was going to sell some to Mr. Fiastri,

and I was going to keep some for my own shop.

They're mine.

Yes, why haven't you completed the sale to Mr. Fiastri?

Why haven't you admitted that you went to the shop that night,

not only to get a few tools,

but to load your truck with those moulds?

Because I promised Massimo I would wait.

I promised him I wouldn't.

And for what reason

were you suddenly being nice to Massimo?

Because he knew I wasn't there just at 10:00.

I mean, it took us nearly an hour to load the truck,

and-and by the time I drove the truck away,

it was nearly 11:00.

I waited. I didn't want to take it away

until everybody was asleep.

Uh, but I never saw the old man.

Honestly, I never saw him.

You say it took us an hour to load the truck?

Us?

Well, her. She helped me. Serafina.

Of course I help him.

I would help anybody who wanted to hurt that old man.

20 years of my life he take.

20 years.

And he throw it away like it's... nothing.

Serafina, when Paulo Porro first came to the house,

did you know who he was?

Did you know the stories of the old feud?

Sì.

Bacio... he's terrified

of things like that.

Witches and darkness.

I know that, too.

At that time, you didn't believe the boy was a killer?

Oh, no, no. No.

Not at first, but... now, of course...

Then why did you act so strangely

when he first came to the house?

Maybe I was upset.

Bacio... he was going to Italy.

He was going to leave me for...

Was it because you knew in advance that Paulo was coming?

Oh, no. No, please!

You've sworn to tell the truth here, Serafina.

But I not know.

I not know all of it.

Not until he explain... Him. Massimo.

He even knew where the young boy was staying.

He was called by a man from the hotel,

so, I... I help him to scare the old man, too. That's all.

I did not know it was real.

Why haven't you told us this before?

Because... Massimo...

Massimo know my sin.

It was... I who struck...

Bacio on the head.

He was going to shoot at the truck, at Giangiacomo,

so I-I had to hit him!

Only then... Bacio fell...

and he did not speak.

And I... I run.

I run to get the doctor.

But when... when I got back,

there was police.

Bacio was... dead.

Stabbed.

May it please the court,

in the light of this admission,

I would like to recall a witness.

Go right ahead, Mr. Mason.

I'd like to hear

what Massimo Bacio has to say for himself, too.

Oh, Your Honor,

the witness I would like to recall is... Mr. Dodson.

Yes, I was Mr. Bacio's lawyer for many years.

How many years, Mr. Dodson?

24.

And in those 24 years,

you've given him legal counsel on many different problems?

Naturally.

You helped handle his money?

Of course.

Do you speak Italian, Mr. Dodson?

No.

You neither read nor write Italian?

I have no ear for languages.

Besides, Mr. Bacio's English was fluent.

Was his English as fluent 24 years ago

as it was the day he was killed?

Well, it improved over the years.

Were there times, especially in the beginning,

when you found it convenient to use a dictionary

to make certain there were no misunderstandings?

Frequently, especially in the beginning.

Now I have here two telegrams.

Please read them to me and tell me

whether or not they are written in fluent Italian.

Well, I've already stated I don't read or write Italian.

For your information,

they are literal translations of English sentences.

That's what's wrong with them.

Mr. Dodson,

why did Mr. Bacio always insist on dealing in cash?

What? Oh, I don't know.

Was it to evade taxes, possibly?

Well, as a lawyer, I really couldn't...

Yes, Mr. Dodson.

As a lawyer who helped with those taxes,

if Mr. Bacio had tried to run off to Italy with his money,

wouldn't you also have been in trouble with the government?

Well, of course. Yes, but...

Or couldn't you produce all of Mr. Bacio's money for him?

No, that's not true!

Now, I did not touch one penny!

But, well, when I tried to explain,

it takes time to liquidate, he wouldn't listen.

The blind, stubborn ox just wanted his cash. His cash!

His cash! He...

So, because of the trouble this would cause,

you then proceeded to kill Mr. Bacio?

No!

Now, I wasn't out there! I wasn't!

I did send those telegrams.

Now, I know it was foolish,

but I was desperate.

There were certain funds...

I just wanted to egg the trouble on,

make Bacio afraid to go back to Sicily for a while.

I-I had no idea anyone would be hurt.

And I suppose Mr. Bacio's son, Massimo,

knew all about this, too, Mr. Dodson?

Did you kill your own father, Massimo?

Is that why you wanted everyone to remain silent?

No! No, it is not true!

Did you come back to the shop and see him lying there?

It is not true, I tell you!

Of course it's not, Mr. Dodson.

Why would he jeopardize himself

by asking others to remain silent?

If he were the killer,

why would he place himself at their mercy

by suborning their perjury?

I only wanted to protect my family, my shop.

To protect my business!

But who else could have done it, Mr. Dodson?

What other individual could have seen Paulo arriving,

and then after the boy fought with Bacio and ran away,

have picked up the murder weapon...?

Serafina?

He was a beast!

He was cruel!

Did you really go for a doctor, Serafina?

He steal, he punish, he take, take, take.

All for him, all for Bacio!

Bestia.

Ho sacrifato tutta la mia vita!

Non ma'h datto niente.

Niente.

La strada.

Sì.

Sono io.

Dio. Dio me perdone.

I kill him! I kill him! I kill him! I kill him!

You know, Paulo,

you are happy, but you have no right to be happy.

What I do now?

When you received that telegram, you did something

even Mr. Dodson didn't expect you to do.

You actually would have tried to collect $5,000

to which you knew you weren't entitled.

Collect? Father, why you say such a thing?

Mr. Mason, do I ask anyone for money? Never.

Do I take money from anyone?

Never! Uh...

Paulo, why did you go out there that night?

If-if someone wants to give me...

Maybe I... I wanted to see the...

the pretty Elizabeth, maybe, huh?

Oh, now, leave him alone.

I'm sure you've learned your lesson, haven't you, Paulo?

Oh, sure, sure.

First of all, I...

I learn, never to go to little village of Sciccata.

Oh, you bet!

You mean, never go back home again?

No, never go the first time.

My home in Naples.

I knew it.