All language subtitles for The_Law_According_to_Lidia_Poet_S01E02

There they are.

Stop!

Halt! Carabinieri!

Let me go!

Let me go!

Stop!

Let me go!

Stop, I said!

Let me go!

I said stop the carriage!

THE LAW ACCORDING TO LIDIA POËT

Mint. Ginger.

Fennel.

Add milk. Make sure it's hot.

A fresh egg yolk. There you go.

Give it to me when I'm drunk.
After 30 minutes, I'll be fine.

Wouldn't it be wiser not to get drunk?

There's too much pain, Teresa.

Just this year, we've lost Wagner, Marx...

De Sanctis died.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

- Morning.
- What's that?

Hangover remedy.

- Disgusting.
- But it's good for the soul.

Anyway, I didn't find your article.

You said it was an emergency.

No. It was a false alarm.

I'm sorry that I left you to dine alone.

Madam, there are people here
to see the lawyer. What do I say?

Send them away. He'll be back tomorrow.

No! Don't--

- Don't send them away.
- Pardon?

No, Enrico asked me to copy his letters.

So I think he'll appreciate it
if I write down their names

so we don't lose a client.

Take them to sit down in the office.
Lidia will be with them soon.

But none of your antics, please.

No. What antics? I...

Good morning.

No, remain seated.

So, how can I help you?

We were looking for Mr. Poët, Esquire,

the one who had
the Marquis of Clermont arrested.

Yes.

At the moment, the lawyer isn't here.
He's away.

In the meantime, I'm here, Lidia Poët.
Graduate of law.

- Nice to meet you.
- So?

How can I help you?

Well, my sister was arrested last night.

The body of a woman
was found in her carriage,

along with some pamphlets
which were, let's say, anarchistic.

Madam, Gaetano is scared to say it,
but we're all anarchistic at the factory.

Anita was the cleverest.

I think that's why they want to trick her.

Sorry, who wants to trick Anita?

The owner, madam.
They always want to trick us.

For years, Anita worked
in the De Santis chocolate factory.

The dead woman is the owner's wife.

We and her comrades decided
that Poët, Esquire, could help us.

The lawyer is away for weeks sometimes.

He asked me to step in for him
in his absence.

But I understand how difficult it is
to trust a woman, right?

We are so frivolous and unstable.

No, miss,
I don't believe in such barbaric nonsense.

- But if he's away--
- No! He is, but he'll be back.

He'll be back.

If I let you leave, I assure you
that he would never forgive me.

He will be very interested in your cause.

He's passionate
about just and difficult causes.

If you sign the power of attorney for me,

I assure you that the lawyer will visit
the prison today to talk to your sister.

Oh. But didn't you say he wasn't in Turin?

Did I say that?

No, I mean, as soon as
he finds out you need him,

he'll come straight back.

It's a power of attorney
signed personally by Mr. Poët.

He authorized me
to interview his client, Anita Tosetti.

Miss Poët, I like you.

But after everything that happened,
it would be best if he came himself.

Of course.

I told him that, you know.

But he insisted.

"If they contest the proxy,
I'll initiate a disciplinary procedure."

"I'll ruin them."

You know how he is.

All talk.

But I completely agree with you.

I'll go and let him know.

- Thank you.
- Wait. I didn't contest the proxy.

No? I misunderstood, then.

- I'll get someone to accompany you.
- Thank you.

Why was Elena De Santis's body
in your carriage?

You're like them.

You put on this big show.
Accuse, defend, judge.

But everything is already written.

If you prefer a public defender,
Anita, it's up to you.

You'll only be playing their game.

This isn't the Spanish Inquisition,
you know?

Of course we could lose,
but let's at least try to win.

The judge is bound by law
to listen to your version of events.

My brother is a public carriage driver.

He loaned me his carriage.

I had to go and collect these leaflets
from the place we used to print them

along the riverside.

I got there at around 8:00
and tied up the horse.

And I left the carriage unattended.

The lady was already there
when I got back,

covered in blood but breathing.

Why didn't you call for help?

I wanted to save her.
There was no time to waste.

I was taking her to the hospital
when I was stopped.

I didn't know she was already dead.

Did you know Mrs. De Santis personally?

She was the owner's wife.

She never came to the factory?
You never spoke?

A couple of times, maybe.

A few months ago, we went on strike.

She helped us get a pay raise.

Sure?

I'll remind you
that I am bound by professional secrecy.

But to help you, I need to know the truth.

Yes, I saw her. I saw her again.

The owner fired me under false pretenses.

She helped me find a job
at the tobacco factory.

I had no reason to kill her.

If only there was a way
to convince them you're telling the truth...

Stay strong, Anita.

I hope to return soon
with good news. Thank you.

Follow me.

Ten stab wounds.

A thin, sharp blade.

The killer was extremely violent.

Has the weapon been found?

Miss, I let you in here
because we agreed that you wouldn't speak.

Of course.

But can I make a suggestion?

It may also be of interest
to the prosecutor.

What suggestion?

Miss Tosetti is available

to undergo interrogation
with a volumetric glove.

You know what I'm referring to.

I know the prosecutor has used it
several times

to test the good faith of witnesses.

I don't think he will have any objections.

And would you be asking this

on your brother's behalf?

Don't shoot the messenger.

I hear your nails scratching the mirror.
Not a pleasant sound.

Would you prefer a request
personally signed by Mr. Poët?

Absolutely.

Excuse me.

- Come!
- Me?

Come!

Don't tell me you accepted a case
in my name.

I told you that you could copy my letters,
not my signature, Lidia!

You have to stop doing things on your own.

But I did it for you!

I asked myself, "What would Enrico do
if they offered him the De Santis case?"

- De Santis who? The chocolate factory?
- Exactly.

Someone killed his wife.
The prosecutor arrested a worker.

There was no time to wait for you.
I've already spoken to her.

- What?
- She's an anarchist. A bit of a bitch.

But I think she's innocent.

I don't care if she's innocent.
I cannot defend an anarchist.

But you should.

At least, unless you want to admit
I forged your signature twice.

That would be article 118.
Six months to three years imprisonment.

Well-deserved!

Anyway, they rejected
my request for that glove that's--

- Volumetric.
- That one.

You'll have to come up with a better idea.

- We could come up with one together.
- Forget it.

Did you want this case?
Solve it on your own.

Enrico.

Shit.

Come in!

Sweetheart.

Are you hiding something?

No, nothing.

You can tell me anything. I'm not a spy.

If there was anything to tell, I would.

Would you tell me if you had a boyfriend?

I don't have a boyfriend, Marianna.

Who's Andrea Caracciolo?

- A friend.
- He sent a telegram.

If you don't have any secrets,
we can open it.

All right.

"I've followed your affairs
with apprehension. Stop."

"My room, Maison d'Or,
is always yours. Stop."

"I love you. Stop."

That's not true.
It doesn't say "I love you."

No, but it sounded like he would.

Thank you.

If he isn't a boyfriend, what is he?

Does this really seem
so interesting to you?

You adults put interesting things aside

to do things you hate.

Do you think I am an adult
who does things I hate?

No.

You are...

You're different.

For example, you figured out
that I'm in love with Lorenzo.

But you didn't ask me anything.

And you'd like to talk about it?

See? You understand things
before anyone tells you.

Now, for example, I understand...

that you just want to spend
a couple of hours alone with Lorenzo.

Yes, but it isn't possible.

No.

We Poëts don't give in very easily.

Go to bed. I'll think of something.

Maybe!

- Good night.
- Night.

Don't be afraid of windmills.

They cannot stop you.

Write your appeal,

and when you become a lawyer,
grant me an interview. Jacopo.

What makes you think
I'm afraid of windmills?

Don't thank me, please.

No, I wanted to make amends
for missing our dinner.

Forgiveness granted.

And would you also grant me
your company this morning?

Commander De Santis has invited
some journalists to the factory.

And I was thinking that a woman
cannot be a lawyer in this country,

but she can certainly write
for a magazine.

- What a modern country.
- Indeed.

You'll see. At this rate,
you'll get the right to vote.

It would be nice though.

It would be nice.

Commander De Santis thanks you
for your attention.

He commissioned me
to pass on his message to you.

"Class hatred must not prevail."

"Even at a time like this,

we must rely solely
on our excellent judiciary."

I have been following the commander
since he founded this factory.

He welcomed me as though I were his son.

Mr. Fumigi, are you sure
the motive is political?

Listen, I don't know
if it makes sense to call it political.

However, we are certainly

victims of deep resentment.

May I ask you
why you say "we," Mr. Fumigi?

Who are you, sorry?

The Gazette is cutting-edge.

We also hire women.

Fine.

I've said what I had to say. Thank you.
Now I ask you to please leave. Thank you.

That's Leone De Santis,
the commander's son.

- Do you know him?
- Only by sight.

We'd better go now.

You go. I'll catch up with you.

Trust me.

Commander De Santis?

No. That's my father.

Sorry, I thought this was his office.

Actually, it is.

Even if there is very little of him left.

My condolences.

I imagine your mother's passing--

Don't be ridiculous.

We were the same age.
She's never been my mother.

What's going on here?

- Who let you in?
- Hello.

Nothing, Dad. This lady is a journalist.

- She wanted to ask you some questions.
- No.

- I don't want to talk to anyone.
- Of course.

- I'll show you to the door.
- No, don't worry. I'll find it.

Please accept my condolences, Commander.

Goodbye.

Enrico, listen to me.
I went into the commander's office.

It was full of Chinese flower vases,
laces, an embroidered room divider--

- You're a furniture expert too?
- No.

I mean that it isn't what you'd expect
from a man's office, you know?

If you add the fact
the workers used to ask Elena for raises,

this makes me believe
she was in charge of the factory, not him.

Fantastic. Like Catherine the Great.

If she made all the decisions,

I wouldn't be surprised
if Leone felt a bit threatened.

So you're saying

that the commander's son killed her,

and he hid her body
in an anarchist's carriage?

- It's--
- Please! We're eating.

- Sorry. She leads me astray.
- Yes, but you let her.

- I do?
- Yes.

Enough. Let's talk about something else.

I made an appointment with the tailor
for your dress.

The dress again, Mom?

Sorry for wanting to make you look good.

See? The only thing that matters
is looking good.

Marianna.

Your mother's right.

Entering society with the right dress

can give you great satisfaction.

See? Even your aunt understands me.

Teresa, if you agree,
I can try and make her see reason.

- No chance. She'll never agree.
- If you send me with Auntie, I'll go.

Teresa, it doesn't seem
like such a bad idea to me.

No, of course.

If Lidia's available.

Good.

Excuse me. I'm not hungry anymore.

Darling?

Light of my life?

Will you tell me what happened?

Did I make a bad suggestion?

Lidia, when it comes to this dress,

I don't give a damn.

But do you really think
Leone De Santis may have killed Elena?

What do you think?

No. I'm not the lawyer.
But I know where I can find him.

Look who it is. Long time no see.

I'm somewhat sorry.

I thought you'd freed yourself.

Freedom is overrated.

I spent months coming here.
Then even opium bored me.

Come on. Don't make excuses.
It's the downside of reading Baudelaire.

Do you know how to use this?

Slowly.

Exactly.

I'm going to lie down for a second.

What are you still doing like this?

You realize how absurd this is, right?

I grew up with Alberto.
He could be my brother.

He's a great prospect.
You know each other.

It isn't what I want.

Marriage is primarily
an economic issue, Lidia.

I want to decide my own fate.

I don't want to thank a man for it.

Everyone's fate is in God's hands.

Especially that of a young girl like you.

Look at me.

What makes you think you're different?

You think you're better than me?

You think you're better than all of us?

Look who we have here.

- Don't move.
- No.

Are you following me, miss?

Honestly, yes.

But I have no ill intentions.

You think showing off your familiarity
with opium will impress me?

No, I'm not showing anything off.

Did you find a story for your readers?

I won't write anything
if you don't want me to.

But I think Mrs. De Santis was far more
than your father's second wife to you.

Please go away.

Elena was a friend.

I introduced her to my father.

I knew that he'd like her.

It wasn't hard to fall in love
with a woman like Elena.

But she chose your father

and started managing the factory for him.

That must have been hard to accept.

Look at me.

Do I look like a guy who's accepted it?

You should see
the look on your face, miss.

Do you think I killed her?

I didn't say that.

Yes.

You're right.

I should have done it.
I had every reason to.

But I couldn't even manage that.

You can go back to your colleague now.
You got what you wanted, right?

MILITANT ANARCHIST
NICOLE GREIMAS DISAPPEARS

Hey! What do you want?

For you to get up and get ready.

We have to be
at the prosecutor's office in an hour.

I thought you wanted
nothing to do with it?

The judge arranged the interrogation
with the volumetric glove.

He's summoned me,
but I don't know what the hell to say.

But hadn't they refused the request?

When a lawyer asks, the answer is no.

If the prosecutor asks, it becomes a yes.

Tell me, Miss Tosetti,

do you recognize these leaflets?

DEATH TO POWER

Yes, I printed them.

Did you know
Mrs. Elena De Santis personally?

We spoke in March.

There was a strike at the factory
to ask for a raise.

So, it could be said

that you gained Mrs. De Santis's trust
through these discussions?

I believe so.

Thanks to this trust,

on December 1st, you were able
to lure Elena to a secluded place?

I didn't lure anyone.

She didn't lure anyone,
she says, Your Honor.

Would you like to read the note, please?

Where did you find it?

"I need to see you
by the river tonight at 9:00."

The note was found
in a pocket in Elena's dress.

Did you write it?

Blood pressure is 172, Mr. Prosecutor.
She's lying.

I know she's lying. It's obvious.

These are the results
of the suspect's handwriting analysis.

As you can see, it's the same writing.

I don't know anything about that note.

Your Honor, the analysis can be contested.

Contest it, then.

It won't change the fact

that your client took advantage
of Mrs. De Santis's good faith,

lured her to a secluded place,

and killed her
with the brutality of an animal.

Anita, did you kill Elena De Santis?

Lawyer!

I didn't kill anyone.

Did you notice the needles
remained still on this question?

I humbly apologize for this shameful show.

- Okay. I think we're done.
- The needles stood still!

Our client is telling the truth!

- Lidia!
- She's telling the truth.

- Stop it!
- Enrico, do something.

Stop it.

Enrico.

Enrico!

Wait!

Do you want me to get disbarred?

Listen, if Anita lied,
there must be a reason.

Yes, I'd say so, Lidia.
In fact, I'd say she did it.

Stop, for fuck's sake!

Sometimes I don't know
how you can be my sister.

Sorry, I didn't mean to hit you.
I just wanted you to stop.

I stopped. Happy?

I know you're angry. I am too.

I know you think I got fooled by a liar.

But, please, consider
that a woman can have secrets

even if she hasn't killed someone.

- Driver.
- Okay.

Suppose she wrote the note
asking Mrs. De Santis to meet her.

The riverside is kilometers long.
How did Elena know exactly where to go?

Wait a second. You're saying--

I'm saying that the note had
an intimate, friendly tone.

But a kind of friendship
that cannot be admitted to.

What do you mean?

The owner's wife

with an anarchist worker.

- No!
- Oh yes.

- No!
- But it's obvious.

No!

I refuse to believe a married woman
would have a relationship that was--

- Loving?
- Illicit!

No. It's inconceivable.

"There are more things
in heaven and earth, Horatio,

than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

- Enrico.
- Good morning.

Sorry.

It's true.

I loved Elena.

At first, I just believed

that she was worried
about the situation in the factory.

But then...

We always used to meet there,
at the print house.

I waited for her that night.

I waited for over half an hour, but...

she never came.

So, was that why the commander fired you?

No.

It was Elena's idea.

She found me another job.
She pushed me away to avoid gossip.

But you too, miss!

If you keep telling us lies,
how can we defend you?

We must tell the prosecutor
how things are.

No, we can't tell anyone about this, sir.

Not my brother nor my friends.

Anita, I don't think
your brother would judge you for this.

Oh no?

Haven't you ever felt
the judgment of men upon you?

Always. Every day.

But they haven't managed to change me yet.

If you have any keepsakes from Elena,

letters, gifts, anything,

we can try to prove you didn't hate her.

I didn't keep anything.

How could I?

I know you want to help me.

But I have no hope.

It's 300.

Forging two transit documents
isn't a problem.

I just need a couple of weeks.

But entry visas to Uruguay
are difficult for me.

I'll handle those.

So, yes, my friend, we have a deal.

Anarchy and freedom.

Anarchy and freedom.

You're already going to sleep?

I can keep you company.

I really hoped that you would offer.

I just happen to have a bottle to open.

Actually, I'm going out.

I could use

your help with something
if you don't mind.

- After you.
- I thought so.

Shut up!

Come on.

Okay, let's be quick. You check that way.

We're looking for gifts, love letters,

anything that proves Anita
and De Santis had a relationship.

Be quiet!

If you had a lover, would you hide
their letters in your office?

I burn everything.

So we have to hope
Mrs. De Santis was more romantic than you.

No letters, but I'd say
the commander collects knives.

What are you doing?

When you copy a letter,

sometimes some ink remains on the plate.

I want to see if it's been cleaned.

"Guido De Santis..."

What is this?

It's a dismissal.

I find this more interesting.

- It was there.
- What is it?

All the others are covered in dust.
This one looks polished.

It's a thin, sharp blade.

- It's the murder weapon, right?
- I don't know.

- The commander was still--
- Who's there?

Who's in here?

- Sometimes--
- Shut up!

Who's there?

Who's there?

Hey!

What do we do?

I have an idea,
but I need your total cooperation.

As long as it works.

What? You like to watch?

- No, it was just a patrol. Sorry.
- Go patrol somewhere else.

A few more moments and we can go.

All right.

Sorry for making you uncomfortable.

The ends justify the means, no?

Okay. Let's go before he comes back.

- Home's this way.
- I'm not going home.

You feel free.

No, I'll come with you.
It's late. You can't walk alone.

I've arrived. Thank you for walking me.

Did I offend you somehow?

No. Why? No, absolutely not. You...

you were a big help.

It's better if I continue by myself
from here.

Lidia.

Look, if you came to find someone,
I'm not going to be shocked.

Jacopo, I don't want
to talk about it with you, that's all.

Lidia!

Hi.

What a surprise.
I thought you had disappeared.

Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you.

No, don't worry. He was just leaving.

Andrea, Jacopo Barberis,
my brother's brother-in-law.

Barberis the journalist?

Nice to meet you. I read
all your articles. Beautiful. Scathing.

A bit cynical at times,
but that's a style.

Everyone has their own.

Is your friend a literary critic?

No, sir. I come from a humble family.

I'm lucky I can read.

But you are a thoroughbred.

Carry on. Persevere.
I will always be your affectionate reader.

- Shall we go?
- We're going?

- Yes.
- I'm stealing her from you.

Good night.

- Good night.
- Good night.

No, wait, Lidia.

Wait.

A minute's break. I'm a bit tired.

How disappointing.

I think I've given you enough tonight.

And you're the first to complain.

You're the weird one.

It seems like you need
to let off some steam about something.

What?

Is it your journalist friend?
Does he give you strange thoughts?

- Stop it.
- Does he make your heart pound?

Stop it!

No, seriously.

What is it? The fact you were disbarred?

You're so boring, Andrea.

So boring.

You always have to find
an explanation for what I do.

No, I was just asking.

I didn't mean to put you in a bad mood.

- No problem.
- No problem, but you're ignoring me?

You know, I met a woman in Washington

who practices law freely.

Her name's Belva. I know
you don't believe it, but it's true.

She's now running for the presidency
of the United States of America.

And you're still here. Why?

You could be there,

where a woman can do
exactly what a man does.

You'd be freer. Undoubtedly.

We're making a mistake, Lidia.

We're making another huge mistake

in this stupid case
you decided to take behind my back.

No! Wait. I know.

Come on. We're here. Let's try.

At least leave the talking to me.

- The machinery from Switzerland.
- Switzerland?

Good morning, gentlemen.

I'm Enrico Poët,
Anita Tosetti's defense lawyer.

This is my sister
and, most importantly, my assistant.

Weren't you a journalist?

I never actually said that.

- I'll call management.
- Wait, Rodolfo. Let me listen.

- Right. We--
- We have a document that belongs to you.

We think it is of public interest.

Before giving it to the press,
we wanted to talk to you about it.

What is it about?

A letter of dismissal written by your wife

to get Rodolfo Fumigi out of the factory.

- There is no letter--
- It's your signature, Commander.

I'm afraid your wife forged it.

Commander, this lady is ranting.

Judge for yourselves.
It looks authentic to us.

This is Elena's handwriting.

What does it mean?

Ask Mr. Fumigi.

Rodolfo, did Elena fire you?

Really?

You want to believe a murderer's lawyers?
This is a badly copied document.

We believe that he got the original
on the day of the murder

and that he burned it.

Apparently, your wife made a copy
for the archive,

and Mr. Fumigi didn't know that sometimes
traces of ink remain on the copy press.

- Commander, this story is absurd.
- Not so absurd, given how worried you are.

I am not like your anarchist friends.

I would never have killed
to avoid being fired.

So, you killed her
for a more noble cause, Mr. Fumigi?

Because you killed her.
You just admitted it.

Rodolfo, please.
Clear up this misunderstanding.

No. It isn't a misunderstanding.

But it is.

You think that I

killed the lady
to defend my interest as a citizen, but--

But?

Because she was cheating
on the commander with a woman?

Because she was managing the factory?

- You know nothing!
- Elena made you feel small.

Useless. Weak. A common employee.

She was destroying
everything you had built, Commander.

She made deals with the workers.
She was bleeding us dry!

So, when I found out she was having
a relationship with that worker,

I was sure that would help me
put a stop to her, but...

do you know what she said to me?

That you knew everything.

That you were fine with it!

And that I was fired
as of that moment. Me!

I killed her to stop her, miss!

For the sake of this family!

Not to keep my job.

I did what a real son would have done.

- What you should have done!
- You're disgusting!

How could you do something like this?

I will never forgive you.

- Call the police.
- Yes.

Sir.

Thank you, sir.

Come on, Marianna. It's pretty.

It's not so bad.

I don't like it.

You have half an hour.

Thank you, Auntie!

Go on!

There will be a time in which
these disputes for women's dignity

will sound grotesque.

Just like those who, a few centuries ago,
were disputing

whether Native Americans had
an immortal soul sound today.

Get ready. We've been summoned
to the prosecutor's office.

I haven't done anything this time.

Whatever happens, please stay silent.

I won't tell you what I think of a man

who lets himself be replaced by a woman

in the exercise of his profession.

While in your house, you are free
to be as humiliated as you like.

When it comes to preserving the integrity
of this institution, however,

your freedom meets
an insurmountable limit.

I've already written to the prefect
and raised the matter with the court.

You will never again be allowed
to delegate a woman

to argue a sentence
to the Court of Assizes,

allowing her to access
places reserved only for men.

And you, Miss Poët,

will never set foot in a court again.

In any capacity.

Do you have any objections?

Subtitle translation by: Jaclyn McLoughlin