Original subtitles

Monterossi.

-You're always welcome. -Thanks.

Even though...

I don't know if what I have to tell you will make you happy.

Of course it won't, Carlo.

You and I talk too much.

Do we?

Actually,

we've already talked too much.

Oh my God, what's the matter?

What's the matter, Signor Carlo?

Did you have another nightmare?

You have to stop eating that junk!

I saw you called that take-out again.

That's weird stuff. God only knows what's in it.

Come on, don't act all jealous now.

I just know what to cook for you.

You're delicate, Signor Carlo.

You have trouble with your digestion, and I'm careful about that.

Excuse me, Catarina.

It's 6:30. What are you doing here?

I'm tidying up and making breakfast, like always.

But you're usually sleeping and you don't notice.

Come on, it's all right.

So, is there some coffee ready?

Two minutes and it's ready.

MONTEROSSI: THE SERIES

DEAD WRONG: EPISODE FIVE

-Hello? -Sannucci?

Where are Carella and Ghezzi? I've called a hundred times.

-I'm sorry, Chief, it's just... -Just what, Sannucci?

They got him. I mean, they figured out who he is and they're going to get him.

-Now? -Yeah, I think so.

-Don't tell me on Via Gigante. -Yeah, there in the projects.

-Jesus fucking Christ. -Why?

The idiots decided to make a statement by clearing out the squats.

-Which idiots? -The big shots, Sannucci. Come on.

Warn them all hell's about to break loose.

Meanwhile, I'll see if I can find someone to help.

All right, boss. Okay.

So, Ghezzi.

Shall we get some coffee?

No, better if we get this over quick.

Come with me.

-Who is it? -Police.

Hi.

Franco.

I'm sorry, Chiara.

Come, Francesco. Get dressed and let's go.

Am I under arrest?

-We gotta ask you a couple questions. -Maybe a few more.

-I'm coming too. -No, Chiara, wait.

You don't need to.

-Where's the car? -Four hundred meters from here.

-Hold on. -Okay.

Fast. Ready. Active. This has gotta be really quick, okay?

Perini, what's going on? Why are you here?

What are you doing here?

-Working. What's this circus? -They're evicting squatters.

It's for the papers. Against Islam, terrorism.

It's just a few poor saps in there.

Get off my ass, Ghezzi. You know how they think.

We got orders from the top to clear it out.

Everyone's on edge because of the stone thing.

Be a good boy. Go home and let me work.

Where are you going?

You gotta get out of our hair, got it?

Hey, what's going on?

It's full of cops. They want to raid or clear the place out. I don't get it.

-If they see us, Gregori'll be in trouble. -I know.

Let's go up to my place.

Good morning, Carlo.

Isn't it early to wake a lady up?

Sorry, Isabella, but I have to talk to you.

-At dawn? -Yes, at dawn.

At least let me get dressed, or is this an excuse to see me naked?

I'll wait for you here.

No, come up.

I'll open the door in five minutes.

Go on, walk.

Sit quiet over there.

We gotta wait.

Can you tell me why, Francesco? Huh?

I read your father's diary.

We know the whole story.

Pulling bullshit like that 36 years later.

What for?

Nadir has nothing to do with it.

-We know. -Neither does Chiara.

She didn't know anything.

Just don't go after them.

Where did you put the gun?

We couldn't find it.

The one that killed Gotti.

In a sewer on the corner of Via Tasso.

-Sannucci. -I've been calling you for a half hour.

-They're about to evict people. -We saw.

Listen, go to Via Tasso. There's a gun hidden in the sewer.

-They already looked. -I called to tell you to look better.

Call the City, the people who do evictions,

whatever the fuck you want. Just let me know.

Did you get the guns from Gotti's old slaughterhouse?

How many were there?

There were three.

Perfect, right? One for each of them.

Was the third Campana?

No, I didn't kill him.

I don't even know who Campana is.

Your dad made a big fucking mistake.

He wrote you a diary so you wouldn't do the same.

-You did something worse. -He was a fucking chump.

First, because he didn't talk.

Then, because he forgave them.

They let him die alone like a dog.

That's not how you change things.

-You only make things worse. -Yeah.

You'll just be another schmuck spending 30 years inside.

And for what?

For justice?

To settle what score?

If you're paid to restore justice but you don't, someone else has to.

Oh, right.

You two are their guard dogs.

This is all just an act.

I get paid 1,500 euros a month.

I've shit glass in my life.

But I'd never think of killing a man

just because he has a sea villa or a sailboat.

I feel like throwing up.

I'll take you to the bathroom.

No!

Ghezzi. Get away from there!

Come on!

-Get all your stuff. All of it! -Right.

-What the fuck is going on? -Hey, easy, we're colleagues.

Guys, quick, one of you come with me.

Francesco!

Honey!

No! Answer me.

Honey, please, answer me!

You killed him.

You killed him!

You killed him!

You killed him!

Carlo.

You just can't go very long without seeing me.

You're a perfect woman, Isabella.

How could you?

How could I what?

You made...

some mistakes, you know?

My marriage?

Yeah.

A big one.

But if you don't mind my saying, you're a pretty bad suitor.

It might be old-fashioned, but roses work much better with me.

Do you have something to tell me?

Or do you not want to, Carlo?

I'm a free woman with no commitments but don't take advantage of my patience.

A shot to the back of the head, Isabella.

An execution. Like...

Like those who think they're restoring justice

and that their idea of justice is the only one.

Almost...

divine.

I was about to say sublime.

Yes.

But you wouldn't understand.

-I wouldn't? Explain it to me then. -No, you explain it to me.

Your deductions are amusing, you know?

It's just the plot's a bit slow.

All right.

Let's try this then.

A classy, cultured woman marries a guy that's bad news.

But soon her aversion begins to grow.

First, it's just irritating.

Then when she finds out this scoundrel is also a guy

who buys off young girls then rapes them,

one of those absolute feelings she so adores begins to grow inside her.

A hate...

How'd you define it? Crystal clear.

This story's getting interesting. Please, continue.

I imagine...

she fantasized about it for months.

Then one fine day, she reads about the stone murders in the papers.

She likes the metaphor of the stone to let bygones be bygones.

So, one Thursday in March, she feels ready.

She attends a social gathering,

translates for a German pianist.

Then...

sure she'll go unnoticed because of the darkness,

taking the back exit through the bathroom,

she leaves early for her morning walk.

She leaves her phone in her room.

She knows cell towers can detect your exact location.

She walks to the car she left in town

and goes to Milan.

She enters the building, which she has the keys to,

then goes into the garage

and gets into her husband's car.

Again using the spare key, right?

I imagine so. Otherwise, what kind of perfect plan would it be?

And obviously, getting into...

the back seat.

She knows his schedule.

He always goes down to get the car at 7:30.

No hesitation.

When he bends to start the engine,

she puts the gun to his head and fires.

At that point,

she takes a stone out of her pocket,

white and smooth,

chosen with great care on the lake shore,

and lays it between his legs.

I imagine she had gloves on.

Apropos, with such a fine-tuned plan,

I doubt she found the gun in his car.

No, of course not.

It was a gift from him.

For their wedding anniversary.

His style to a tee.

Then she leaves

and goes back to the lake.

When she gets to the Villoresi Canal,

she throws the gun from the highway overpass.

But the gun lands on the river bank, not in the water.

This was a small mistake.

So...

She leaves the car in town...

and as if nothing had happened,

the lady goes back to her hotel after her morning walk.

Well? What do you think of the plot now?

Did I forget something?

Details.

Insignificant things.

Proof.

Right.

Proof.

How petty, right?

They say you need it.

One would think...

that if you take the toll pass off your windshield

and put it in the glove box, it doesn't work.

It becomes blind and mute.

Instead, it doesn't.

I tried it, you know? Yesterday.

If you don't trust me, I can send you your toll pass log,

which my friend Oscar...

POLICE

So...

We followed him to the third floor.

The door was open and he jumped out the window. Clear?

-I don't know if I can do it, Carella. -You can do it, Ghezzi.

You better thank the Virgin he wasn't cuffed.

He died like the anarchist Pino Pinelli.

Bullshit. He was innocent and got pushed out the window.

Our guy was guilty and jumped on his own.

That's a huge difference.

Nice fucking consolation.

See, I knew you wouldn't understand.

You rely on the facts. You don't see the bigger picture.

Giorgio deserved to die like that.

First, the victim, then, the judge...

and in the end, the executioner.

Doesn't that seem a little much?

"A little much"?

"A little much" of what?

Don't be a purist, Monterossi.

I could...

I could play the wounded woman.

I could talk to you about that girl I saw in the hospital.

Forever defeated.

But I won't.

I find pathetic people so...

pathetic.

You complicate things that are actually very simple.

It's called murder.

Premeditated. From 30 years to life in prison.

You don't kill people, Isabella.

Why not?

OSCAR: TELEVISION, IMMEDIATELY

Can we...

turn on the TV?

What we know is that the murderer, known as the stone killer,

after trying to escape capture and knowing he'd lost,

he jumped out of a third-floor window

into a courtyard in the San Siro district.

His name is Francesco Girardi,

thirty-five years old, resident at the state housing projects.

where an eviction operation had been underway for hours.

The killer was identified this morning.

There's sufficient proof he was responsible for the deaths

of Fabrizio Gotti, Cesare Crisanti and Giorgio Campana.

So, this...

should get you out of trouble, right?

Injustice covering up more injustice

that's been mistaken for justice.

The law, the truth...

We like them because they delude us into thinking we're in control.

But we're not.

Things run their course, often against our interests.

You want me to spend my whole life in a cell.

Would that be justice?

Or an even more hypocritical vendetta than mine?

Do whatever you want, Monterossi.

You know where to find me.

Where's Ghezzi?

In the bathroom.

-I'll go call him. -No.

He needs a minute. He'll be back.

It was tough, wasn't it?

Let's just drop it, Sannucci.

A 30-year-old guy commit suicide before our very eyes.

If we were more alert, it wouldn't have happened.

Well, he knew he was going to get life.

It's not the same thing.

In that case, we would've handed him over to the law.

Instead, he escaped.

Why did he go up the stairs?

There was no way out.

Our guys were fucking clearing them out.

-What pricks. -Yeah, but...

If he jumped out the window of Ghezzi's apartment.

How did he get in?

-Was the door open? -Yeah, it was open.

-How's it possible? -Mind your damn business!

Drop the whole thing. Especially with Ghezzi.

Sorry.

We're all a little tired.

The real bummer is tomorrow the vacation's over.

If they don't suspend us.

No way.

We'd have heard Gregori yelling all the way over here.

-Everything's okay. -Good.

Yours was a parallel, covert investigation,

but everybody knew. The prosecutor, police chief, the guys in Rome,

and if they want, the Mossad and Jesus Christ too.

-So, we're absolved? -I am. You got promoted.

All we need is a little medal to end this farce.

You solved the stone murder case, it couldn't have gone better.

Actually, we still don't know who murdered Campana.

We'll think about that.

For now, our priority is to restore calm.

The operation was a huge success.

Then, maybe it was Girardi, even though he denied it.

-Sorry, it couldn't have... -Sannucci.

As law enforcement, we have to think about citizens,

so they can rest easy.

Sometimes it's more important than locking up criminals.

That sucks.

Sorry, I missed that.

I said, "That sucks."

What's the matter? You're not happy?

About what?

Laganà's execution?

A vendetta after 40 years?

A kid who killed himself?

Or us going and evicting those poor people from their homes? Come on!

Truth is, we're all wrong. Dead wrong.

What in the hell do you expect, Ghezzi?

-You can solve the world's problems? -Or not create more.

-What's that mean? -Nothing.

I didn't ask you. Well? Do you need to tell me something?

Yeah.

That I'm going home.

Will you tell me what the hell's got into him? Sannucci?

And you wonder why he never got promoted.

Just when everyone is applauding us, even in Rome.

Let's enjoy it. At least for five minutes! Five! But no.

-You'd think they'd pissed on his head. -That's just how he is.

Give him some time.

You get it?

In the end, it was Girardi's kid.

Crazy.

I didn't even know he became a father.

Yeah, and you sent us all the way to Calabria for jack shit.

Well...

Actually...

-You don't have to give back the advance. -What a gentleman.

If you think about it...

You didn't kill him, he killed himself.

Right?

You know, I like Bellini after all.

You know why? He's a smart cookie.

For example, he found this great trailer park.

Where nobody would ever find us.

If we accidentally fired a shot, and I mean accidentally...

Nobody would hear us.

No, listen...

-Come on, wait a second. -We're not fucking waiting.

And you ought to hurry up too.

The police might just start hassling you about that bullshit from 40 years ago.

But I didn't shoot. I stopped.

Girardi didn't shoot either.

But he did 30 years in the can.

And the worst thing is that my partner here

is really bothered about how the whole thing went.

-"Bothered" is a euphemism. -Imagine that.

-You even made us fight, something that... -Never.

Relax, it's a friend of ours. A notary we trust.

Come in.

-May I? -'Morning, sir, come in.

Good morning, everyone.

Nice place.

-May I. -Yes. Sorry to drag you all the way here.

Favors should always be paid back.

Giulia, pass me those papers. I think they're correct and filled in.

So, this regards the sale of a property,

located in Via Mazzini 32 in Biella,

by Mr. Vincenzo Bellini

to Snap Ltd., the buyer.

Should we read the whole thing?

No, look, Mr. Bellini here is also in a slight hurry.

-Proceed. -Then, if you wouldn't mind signing here.

Thank you.

-I haven't got a pen. -I've got one.

Annexed to the contract

are the copies of a check for 100,000 euros, which I'll give to you.

Checks that our friend here will tear up

after receiving them for the purchase, as agreed. Right?

That's your business.

It's just that...

it was my mom's house.

Tear it up, Bellini. Tear it up.

The killer was identified in the morning,

in a building in the San Siro district of Milan,

due to the close collaboration

between the investigators from the ministry,

international experts and the team from the Milan police,

coordinated by Deputy Chief Gregori, who will now speak.

Thanks.

The perpetrator was Francesco Girardi, 35 years old,

with a prior record of resisting arrest and squatting.

At the time of arrest, unfortunately, Girardi attempted to escape,

but there was no way out,

so he jumped out the third-floor window.

How can you be sure he's the stone killer?

We found documents that prove he was responsible beyond all doubt.

Was it perhaps politically motivated?

Girardi was known for his leftist activism.

I'd say it was a personal vendetta.

Naturally, we'll look into it thoroughly.

Will an internal investigation be done on the failure to capture him?

Maybe there was a flaw in the procedure?

Absolutely not. On the contrary.

The heads of the investigation will meet with the minister,

who's flying to Milan,

and proposed for promotion.

The nightmare is over.

We should thank all the law enforcement officers involved.

Can you tell us more about the motive? Why stones?

You know, you have to wait till the matter is closed for details.

Or for the next episode of Crazy Love.

The divine Flora will tell us.

What fucking nerve this guy has.

In fact, we can go now.

-Did Gregori say we have to stay? -Gregori did her job and we did ours.

Let's go get a beer.

...collaborate together as a team, something that rarely happens.

Shall we go see Ghezzi?

I'd leave him alone for a while.

You're his pet, and you still don't know what he's like?

A toast to our record.

I admit, I was a little worried before last night.

Nadia can tell you.

I always get a little anxious. For no reason.

But I never would've expected 38 percent.

Our writer foresaw that.

Now the diabolical machine is running.

It doesn't matter if we have guests, right?

You were right this time too.

Unfortunately, yes.

Okay, come on, don't sit there hiding all alone. Come and say a few words.

Flora, pretend I agreed.

Come on, Jesus Christ.

Carlo, Carlo...

-No, don't do that. -Carlo, Carlo...

-Come on, guys, enough. -Carlo, Carlo...

-What should I say? -That you're very happy.

Of course, I'm very happy. I admit.

Not just because we made it to the last episode of this season,

but because next year will be my last, so...

So, we're very happy too,

because every time you say that, you end up staying with Crazy Love

for another three years.

Okay, but let's not let down our guard.

We still have the season's grand finale.

So, they caught the killer,

and then he even became the victim, which is even better.

We could try to find that girlfriend of his.

-What's her name? -Chiara.

Right, Chiara.

What do you say, Carlo? Shall we invite her?

Maybe, just maybe, Flora,

some people still think you wouldn't sell your kids for a percent point.

Only a few, but they exist.

Let's not disappoint them.

Let's allow them to continue to enjoy this blissful illusion.

You're wonderful, Carlo.

Cheers.

Cheers.

-Great job, everyone. -No, you were great.

NO TRESPASSING, ARMED SURVEILLANCE

How you doing?

I'm really sorry. I swear.

How long are you on house arrest?

I still don't know, but it definitely won't be a couple of weeks.

We'll see about that.

Then, with my dad at home...

I was about to tell the judge, have mercy, leave me in prison.

Francesco did all this because he never had a father.

If I were you, I'd hang on tight to him.

You're fucking right.

I gotta hang on to him.

But I don't know how tight. Let's not go overboard.

Shall we go?

Let's go.

So, the Lo Surdos came to live in my apartment and left me theirs.

-Really? Now you live across the hall? -Yeah.

So, you can escape to my place when you want.

Damn, Chiara, you're awesome.

I did it for me too.

I couldn't stay in that house anymore.

You're such a such cook, you can come bum couscous off my mom.

What a little shit you are.

..and we can turn the closet into a second bathroom.

Even with a second bathroom, tell me what we're going to do with this place?

What do you mean, honey bunny?

We'll put it on the internet and rent it out.

-To who? -What do you mean, "To who"?

To tourists. For short stays.

We're in Biella. This place sucks. The kitchen is on the terrace.

Right.

Marta, we'll close off the kitchen on the terrace,

then we'll renovate it, update it,

add some of your special touches, some taste, and it's done.

That too? So we spend even more money.

No, we need to sell this immediately. How much did you say it's worth?

Two hundred, even two hundred twenty.

-Not bad. -Yeah, but...

it's not like we can just sell it.

What do you mean?

No, I mean, not immediately.

In a little while.

In five...

-even ten years. -"Ten years"?

Natalino, what in the hell were you thinking?

But most of all, why?

"Why"?

Because it was kind of a complex operation, Marta.

But, honey bunny,

in the end, this thing here...

It stays with you.

Yeah, like a monkey on your back.

Fuck you and your house in Biella!

Marta!

Come on!

I tried to tell you bringing her here wasn't a brilliant idea.

You can go fuck yourself too.

I'm amazed you still haven't run to your buddies in the police.

-Don't tell me you're in love again. -Don't tell me you fucked her.

What are you two thinking?

Hey, you don't have to go to bed with someone to leave an impression.

-Oh, so the lady left an impression? -Yeah.

A deep one too.

But that's not the point.

Then what is it?

It's that...

I can't figure out where in the hell the line is

between justice and vengeance.

Good and evil. There's a line, right?

A thin one, but it's there.

Forget it.

I just can't see it.

I'm sure ole' Bob could.

If you want, I'll get his number so you can call and ask.

If you can get me ole' Bob's number...

Careful, don't promise things you might regret.

Yeah, you two are actually capable of getting it for me.

Exactly. So?

-Forget it. -Come on, don't be a tightwad.

"A tightwad"?

Come on...

You can accuse me of anything but not of being a tightwad.

-You're right. -Yeah.

All right, I'll think about it.

For now, let's drink to it.

We were in that garage. Remember, Chiara?

What happened to Ghezzi?

He's still on vacation. Let's hope.

Good for him.

I said let's hope, Sannucci.

Monterossi.

Am I disturbing you?

Come in.

I tried to call a few times, but it went straight to voicemail.

-Who is it? -Carlo Monterossi.

-Good evening. -'Evening, ma'am. These are for you.

Oh, they're beautiful. Thanks.

I'll go put them in a vase.

And this is for your promotion.

Maybe champagne would've been more appropriate.

But I wanted to play it safe.

-Was I wrong? -No, you were right.

Also because there's nothing to celebrate.

-Shall we have a nip? What do you say? -Sure, even two.

There you go.

So...

What are you now?

Detective? Chief?

Head Sergeant.

-Weren't you that already? -Before I was just a sergeant.

So now...

Who are you head of?

Practically nobody.

But I never gave a shit about that.

It's just a credit to you.

But that isn't a good reason not to celebrate.

To you, Ghezzi.

What did you do this time, Monterossi?

-Why do you say that? -You could've called to congratulate me.

Well?

No, it's just...

I feel like I'm up against a sort of...

ethical dilemma.

-Don't say that. -You don't want to hear about it?

My own ethical dilemmas are enough.

I don't want other people's. Yours especially are just trouble.

I wouldn't disturb you, but I don't even have a priest-friend.

If that's why...

from tomorrow you won't even have a cop-friend.

LETTER OF RESIGNATION

-What is this, a joke? -That's what I said.

After a 30-year career and five years from retirement.

-Can you imagine him home doing nothing? -Please, Rosa. Come on.

Sorry, Ghezzi, but...

Why do you want to resign?

Because...

the more you try to get rid of the shit,

the more shit you find.

I'm tired, Monterossi.

Don't you ever feel that way?

Excuse me, what are you doing?

I think I'll go look for that priest.

See you later, Sergeant.

Head Sergeant.

Right. Pardon me.

Head Sergeant.

Ma'am.