Okay, okay, stop.
Great!
Really...
...really, that's good. Very good.
Maybe a little too good.
Too clean. Yes, too precise. Too...
...formal. It should be more... trashy.
See what I mean?
Remember that this sort of Jazz came out of the...
...the brothels... and the freedom inspired from...
Parapsychology Conference
...and this phenomenon, as the latest studies confirm...
...is not restricted to superior species...
...but it includes vertebrates and invertebrates as well...
Butterflies...
...termites, zebras...
...all these animals, and many more...
...use telepathy to transmit orders and relay information.
This is a proven fact that can be easily demonstrated.
For instance: If we put a butterfly in a cage, within a few hours...
...it will be able to gather around it many other butterflies...
...which will quickly swarm in, in answer to its call...
...even covering a distance of several miles.
This is telepathy.
A faculty which comes naturally to the newborn in the early stages of life...
...but which they generally lose as they acquire the means of...
...verbal communication.
On the other hand, certain rare individuals...
...for reasons as yet unknown to us, do not lose this faculty.
One such exception is Mrs. Helga Ulman...
...who's here in Italy for a round of conferences.
Helga has extraordinary telepathic powers...
...and her natural bent for the paranormal has just amazed us.
I will let her tell you herself. Helga Ulman.
I would like to point out immediately...
...that my faculties have nothing whatsoever to do with magic...
...the esoteric, or fortune-telling.
I pick up facts the very moment they occur or have occurred...
...but nothing of what is to come.
I can feel thoughts, the very instant they are formed.
Some I can even sense a long time afterwards...
...because they are so strong.
They linger about the room...
...like cobwebs.
You, sir...
Yes you, in the third row, with your right hand in your pocket.
You're clutching a bunch of keys.
Four keys... one of them very long.
It's true, look, they're right here!
Your name is Pietro... Pietro...
...forgive my pronunciation... Valgoi?
Yes, Valgoi, that's right.
Mr. Valgoi, excuse me, may I ask you something?
Do you know Ms. Ulman by any chance?
No.
Pardon my persistence...
...is it possible you could have met her before and told her your name?
No, how could I? I live in Bologna and I only arrived in Rome three hours ago!
It's absolutely impossible.
Good, thank you, sir.
No... no!
Out! Out! No! Via! Via! No!
I'm sorry.
Forgive me.
There is something...
...someone...
No, I don't know what it is... Forgive me. I'm sorry.
Helga?
It was... I can't explain.
Something strange and sharp, like a knife...
...entering my flesh.
Please forgive me, but it's alright now, thank you.
I feel it again.
It's here. I can feel death.
I feel... a presence.
I have entered into contact with a perverse mind!
Its thoughts are of death.
Go away!
You...
...have killed...
...and you will kill again!
That nursery rhyme...
...and that house down there...
...and the...
...death.
And that blood!
I'm scared, I'm scared!
Ms. Ulman! Helga, it's alright! Calm down, that's enough!
Yes, let's hide everything, everything in the house...
...as if nothing happened. Back the way it was.
No one must know, no one must find out, no one!
Just forget... forget everything...
...forever... forever.
Are you okay?
Anything I can do for you? Get some help?
It was all so clear, believe me, so frightfully clear.
Like a thorn piercing my brain.
I heard his twisted thoughts...
...cruel and yet childish at the same time...
How odd.
Before, in front of the audience...
...I couldn't express all the sensations that crowded my mind.
...but tonight at home I'll write them all down.
I'll let you have it tomorrow.
You may use it as you see fit.
I'm saying this because...
...you see... now...
...I also know who that person is.
- What is it? What's the matter? - No, it's nothing.
Those evil thoughts must be here stagnating in this room.
Just a moment ago it came back to me.
I must admit I'm frightened... I'm really frightened.
I don't feel like it... Non me la sento...
...and I really need some rest... ...ed ho bisogno di riposare...
...I feel very tired. ...mi sento molto stanca.
So... Allora...
Shouldn't we talk about that right away? Non pensi che dovremmo parlarne subito?
Yes, I'd like this article to be published... Sì, vorrei pubblicare questo articolo...
...while I'm still in Italy. ...mentre sono in Italia.
Yes... Sì...
I am alone. Sono sola.
Yes, I am a bit jumpy... Sì, sono un po' nervosa...
...but don't worry. ...ma non preoccuparti.
We'll talk again tomorrow? Ne parliamo ancora domani?
Hinno, Marc!
Hinno? What does that mean?
What are you talking about?
A client just said it to me, in the bar.
He said it's a Tahitian word.
Or was it Madagascar?
I'm so damn drunk, I can't even remember!
Anyway, it means...
..."alla salute!", "cheers", "à votre santé", "skol!"
Listen, Carlo, when I was in America...
...I met a lot of people like you.
Heavy drinkers... they don't last long, you know?
Who says I want to last?
You're speaking like a true masochist. You obviously have the vocation.
Definitely not a masochist, on the contrary.
You know...
...as long as I'm drunk...
...I'm as happy as a lark!
And I play better too!
I mean, the piano is like the body of a beautiful woman...
...and I tickle her.
Cut it out!
Speaking of pianos, my half hour of fresh air is up.
I'll go back in to bang out a few more notes.
Otherwise, I won't get paid tonight.
On your feet then, up!
You know what, Marc?
The difference between you and me is purely political.
You see, we both play rather well.
But I am the proletarian of the pianoforte...
...while you are the bourgeois!
You play for the sake of art and you enjoy it.
I play for a living.
It's not the same thing.
My, my, my! One of your philosophies I wasn't aware of yet!
Actually, I just thought of it! You know, I'm really sharp when I'm drunk!
What was that?
A scream, I'd say.
Who knows, maybe rape.
I drink to you, deflowered virgin!
Bye, Marc.
- Bye. - Bye.
Five fatal blows, twelve wounds.
Probably from a hatchet or a butcher's cleaver.
The victim seems to be about 35-40 years old.
She has abrasions and cuts all over her body.
So, you are a foreigner, then?
Yes, I was born in London but I lived...
...several years in America, before coming here.
And what are you doing in Italy?
I am a pianist. Jazz. I teach here at the Conservatory.
- I teach Jazz. - And you play the piano, right?
So, in that case, you don't have any job, right?
- I told you that I am a pianist. - Hmm, sure, sure...
Yes, in short, that's your only job.
Why? You think playing an instrument isn't a job? What is it then, a joke?
No, what are you saying? No, I would never say that.
In fact, in my family I have a cousin who plays the...
What?
The violin!
Strange paintings, huh?
Yes.
Let me ask you something. Did you move anything...
...change something around or take anything from here?
Are you crazy?
We're very careful not to move a thing. Why? Is there something wrong?
No, no, I mean... It's just an impression, maybe.
Sorry, you were asking?
Ah yes, the victim! Please.
You knew her, didn't you?
Yes, I already told you, I live upstairs. Her name was Helga Ulman.
- Coffee? - Thank you.
A raincoat... Tell me about the raincoat the murderer was wearing.
Wait a minute. I didn't say the murderer was wearing it.
All I said was that I noticed a man with a dark raincoat...
...walking away from the building.
Good evening! Hi everybody!
Get lost! You can't come in here!
Why not? A crime like this, the first thing you do is call the press!
Get your hands off me! I told you, you can't come in here!
We're conducting a very complex investigation here!
Look who's here!
Gianna Brezzi!
Yes, Inspector!
- Who told you about the crime? - I have my sources.
As it happens, the victim was rather famous even in Italy.
In fact, she gave an important lecture this very afternoon.
What did this famous lady do?
She was... a sort of magician.
She could read people's minds.
Well! I'll be...
I thought she was...
You! Yes, I am sure!
You're the one who saw the whole thing. The eye witness extraordinaire!
Fabbroni, get Mingozzi for me. I have something to tell him.
- Then call the Station. - Yes, Inspector.
Why must I go to the Police Station?
I told you everything I know! I don't understand what else...
It's for your statement. It has to be officially typed, you know, bureaucracy!
And also all your information: Place and date of birth, passport, etc.
My head is splitting!
And you, what the hell are you doing here at this hour?
I'm on my way home... after four hours at the Police Station.
Oh yeah, right.
I forgot about the murder.
How did it go?
What kind of question is that? How do you suppose it went?
Come on, I'll walk you home.
No, thank you. I can make it by myself.
I can make it, I said!
Oh, my poor head, my head...
Tell me, how much did you drink?
Who knows? Who can remember anything about this night?
But I'm sure it must have been a lot.
Why not come to my place for coffee?
No thanks, thanks anyway. I'd rather sleep in my own bed.
Bye.
Carlo? Carlo?
Did you see that man leaving the building?
A man?
Yeah, a man in a dark raincoat? Right after the murder.
I think he's the killer.
Wait, wait...
Yes, I saw him for a second from the back.
Listen, Carlo. Something strange happened to me, very strange...
...and I don't know if it's true or not but...
...when I went into that woman's apartment, the first time...
...I thought I saw a painting.
But then a few minutes later it was gone.
What happened to me?
To you, nothing. But maybe the painting was made to disappear...
...because it represented something important.
- What did you say? - It represented something important!
No, no, I don't think so.
If I remember well, it was... it was... some sort of composition of faces...
...something very unusual.
Look, maybe you've seen something so important that you can't realize it.
But I... I'm just trying to understand, because...
You know, sometimes, what you actually see and what you imagine...
...get mixed up in your memory like a cocktail...
...from which you can no longer distinguish one flavor from another.
But I'm telling you the truth!
No, Marc. You think you're telling the truth, but in fact...
...you're only telling your version of the truth.
It happens to me all the time.
That one there with the raincoat. That's Giordani.
He's a professor in Psychiatry, and an enthusiast of parapsychology.
A great friend of Helga's, he practically kept her.
The man with the glasses is Mario Bardi.
He's also a clairvoyant...
...and was a great friend of poor Helga.
Let's go.
By the way... I wanted to thank you!
"I've seen the murderer."
It's nice to be brought to the attention of murderers!
Oh, come on!
Look, you may not believe me, but I don't have a steady boyfriend right now.
- Me neither. - Ah, I should hope not!
I meant a girlfriend!
Ah, that's why you're always so jumpy!
Me jumpy? Oh please! I am not jumpy at all!
Yeah right! And stop fidgeting! You're always scratching...
...your hands are shaking. Tell me, what's going on?
How many times must I tell you that I'm an artist?
In case you've forgotten, we artists are very sensitive people, is that clear?
We don't have elephant hide like you journalists!
Elephant hide? I'm told I have very delicate skin.
You can touch it, come on, try!
- Yes, not bad. - It's fantastic!
I know a way to stop your jumpiness...
What? Here at the cemetery? Are you crazy?
Anyway, I've other things on my mind, understand?
- Sure, you are scared witless! - I am not scared!
Right, you're almost pooping your pants!
And it's all my fault!
And I would like to see him, you know? I'm curious to see him face to face.
Forget it. You'd be better off returning to England.
To tell you the truth I decided to stay.
- You've just decided that? - Yes, maybe.
Anyway, I need to concentrate. I must try to remember.
I am sure I saw something very important that night...
...but I can't remember what exactly, damn it!
Are you driving?
No, Marc, wait! I have to get in this side.
The other door is jammed. Oh, sorry!
Long live Italy!
That seat broke the other day. Is it very uncomfortable?
Why don't you help with this murder story?
If you could give me hand on this scoop...
...maybe I can get away from reporting on the environment.
- What have you done? - Nothing.
- You've locked the door! - Why, shouldn't I have?
The lock jams, and now we'll need a mechanic to open it!
That's all we need!
Damn! The car's not exactly new, you know?
- Gianna, just drive fast, will you? - Why?
I suffer a little from claustrophobia.
Alright.
Tell me, Enrico, why do Australian boomerang sellers go bankrupt?
No, I don't know that one.
They go bankrupt because the goods are always returned!
Funny, don't you think?
- Carlo's not in yet? - No, he never shows up before ten.
Could you please tell him I was looking for him?
- I need to speak to him urgently? - Of course.
Everything in the house. Let's hide it all.
No, no one will ever find out.
We must forget.
We must forget everything.
Forever...
Forever... That's all.
She was pointing over there.
To the middle of the 6th or the 7th row.
And you can't remember anything? Not even a face?
No, absolutely impossible.
All the lights were on us and the stalls were in darkness.
I must say, in thinking it over, I seem to recall...
...while Helga was speaking, I noticed some kind of movement...
...in the 6th or 7th... or maybe the 8th row.
- I can't say exactly. - What kind of movement?
Sorry, what did you say? Could you repeat that please?
I said... what kind of movement?
It's hard to say.
As if someone had stood up and left the row...
...but of course it was just an impression, more than anything else.
With the lights on, we couldn't see anything...
You see, you're not jumpy anymore.
You can even button your shirt without shaking at all.
Look, will you cut it out about being jumpy?
It's a question of character, it's in my nature. It's my artistic temperament.
Why did you become a pianist?
Well, my psychiatrist would say it's because I hated my father.
So in pressing the keys, I was like smashing his teeth.
Actually it's because I love music.
What about you? Why are you a journalist?
Because I like working.
And I think a woman has to be independent to be equal to a man...
Oh, God, let's not start on sex equality!
It's all rubbish, not true at all.
Men and women are different. Women are delicate...
...fragile.
What? Delicate?
Fragile?
- Why are you clearing the table? - Come over here.
- What's that? - Arm wrestling.
Come on!
Then we'll see who's delicate!
Don't be ridiculous! I've better things to do.
Afraid?
That was total cheating, you can't start before I'm ready!
It doesn't count. You must play by the rules.
And you too!
We do it properly or not at all. Still want to go ahead?
Will you play by the rules without cheating? Properly?
Alright.
- Are you sure? - Yes!
Let's go.
Both elbows must stay on the table and no sudden movements.
- I know the rules! - We'll start when I say, okay?
Ready?
Steady... steady... wait...
One...
Two...
Three...
Go!
That doesn't count either! You lifted your elbow off the table!
It's an old trick, a dirty old trick!
- You're a cheat! It's so ridiculous! - You're right.
And you go around challenging people!
You're big... and macho... I surrender!
So, where are we going now?
Where are we going?
I'm not going anywhere with you.
If anyone is going anywhere, I am going by myself.
Oh sure, but where?
I'm going to see a friend, if you must know.
I have things to do. I can't sit here all day...
...arm wrestling just to keep you amused!
I'm on to something important, but I'm not saying what, is that clear?
Listen, don't be angry now. Why can't I go with you?
- But we started this job together, right? - No.
Statistics prove you can't work seriously with liberated women.
So, whether you like it or not, I'm going on my own.
Listen, have it your own way, stupid!
I'll carry out my own investigation, and we'll see who comes out on top!
What's that? Another test of arm wrestling?
Yeah, in a way.
So be it.
Wait! You didn't tell me when I'll see you again.
Never.
Oh, really?
How about later tonight?
- When will you be back? - I don't know.
I'll try to call you.
Okay. But I'll tell you again that I don't...
If you don't want to, just say so.
I was just trying to say that I don't know what time I'll be back.
Alright.
Bye.
Tell me the truth.
Do you find me so unattractive?
- No. - So, what's wrong, then?
- My smell? What? - Nothing at all, why?
Oh nothing. I was just wondering!
Yes?
Excuse me, I'm Marc Daly, I'm a friend of Carlo's.
Oh do come in, Marc dear.
I know you by name. Carlo mentions you very often.
You're an engineer, right?
No, I'm a pianist. I teach at the Conservatory.
A pianist? Please, come in.
What can I offer you? Coffee or a drink?
No, thank you, nothing. I actually came to see Carlo.
He wasn't at the Blue Bar, so I thought...
A drink, wasn't it? Is this alright?
It's Coca Cola! I'll just make some coffee and...
No, no, please. Don't go to any trouble. I just came to see Carlo.
I'll call him, then.
I'm so absent-minded.
I'm sorry, Carlo is not here, he's gone out.
Come here Marc, come and talk to me.
Come over here with me.
Tell me something about yourself. How long have you been an engineer?
- No. Madam, I am pianist. - And I'm an actress.
Or rather I was an actress. That's me in all those photos.
What do you think? Was I good or what?
Yes, I'm sure.
I just wish I'd had the opportunity to...
Never mind.
When I married Carlo's father... Carlo wasn't born then, of course...
...he made me give up my career.
Now, it's all gone.
It's not important now. I console myself by playing the piano.
- Do you play the piano? - The piano..? I'm a pianist.
Oh, what a magnificent combination! A piano playing engineer!
Could we play a duet?
No, unfortunately I just don't have the time.
I really need to see Carlo urgently. Do you know where he is?
He went to see a friend.
Someone called Massimo Ricci... 28 Via Crescenzio.
Sorry, my mistake.
I'm... I'm looking for a friend, Carlo.
His mother gave me this address. Is he here?
Yes, yes, do come in.
Thank you.
You don't know how ill he's been. I wish I knew what's come over him.
He's still very sick.
He's been like this for over an hour.
He started to drink as he usually does.
Maybe more than usual.
Then he started talking nonsense.
Look who's here.
You caught me red handed, huh?
Good old Carlo...
He's not only a drunk but a faggot as well.
Surprise!
I don't give a damn about your preferences!
But I already told you that you won't last for long if you drink that much!
And I told you... who wants to last?
The liver is gone, and so are the intestines.
Come on, try to get up.
Put your head under a cold tap, it'll do you good.
Then I'll take you out to get some fresh air.
I love that guy. But he's such a downer.
He drank a lot today.
Then he started talking a lot of nonsense. I think he's really cracking up.
He said he wanted to go away. And then he wanted to make love.
And then he wanted to sleep.
He kept getting worse.
And then he started to scream. I was about to call a doctor.
Would you like some coffee?
No, it's very late already.
I need to go, or I'll be thrown out of the Blue Bar for good.
You're coming with me?
Yes.
Bye.
Sorry...
...for what happened before. - Don't be silly. Call me.
Good bye.
Why did you come looking for me?
I wanted to ask you something.
Remember the other night, the night of the murder?
Well, I said... I thought I saw a painting in that house.
But a few moments later it was gone, remember?
Vaguely.
Do you have a light?
You said that maybe the painting represented something important.
You said a lot of things about memory and truth...
A lot of things I didn't really understand at the time.
Yeah.
I remember something but...
I can't remember what I wanted to say. I was probably talking nonsense.
I was dead drunk.
Look... listen Marc...
...why don't you just pack up and clear out?
What are you doing messing around with this business anyway?
Why are you annoying a madman? A maniac?
Anyone who would commit such a monstrous crime, is certainly a maniac.
If you must know, I'm attracted to madmen.
I can't help it. I have a morbid fascination for them.
But wait, wait... listen.
That painting was definitely there, I didn't imagine that.
And I feel it's something important.
So now...
...it's become kind of a challenge... with my memory.
- A challenge... - Right, a challenge.
I challenge myself too, all the time.
And I always lose... But this is different for you.
If you lose, apart from the challenge...
...you'll end up getting murdered yourself!
No further news on the murder of German mind-reader, Helga Ulman.
Police are concentrating their investigation...
...on a person seen leaving the scene of the crime that very night.
According to an unofficial newspaper report...
...the eye witness can identify the mysterious night visitor.
Carlo should be very careful.
If they find out he's a good pianist, they'll get rid of him for sure!
Whoever you are, please help me!
Marc? It's me, Gianna! What are you talking about?
You won't get away...
I'll kill you sooner or later...
Hello?
- What is it? Hello? Hello? - Listen, Gianna, Gianna!
There's somebody in the house. He talked to me, he wants to kill me!
- Want me to call the police? - Wait, wait a second.
Hello?
Little songs for children
Well, that's it, alright. That's the same song I heard last night.
And if I remember correctly...
...you said that Helga talked about a nursery rhyme in the theater.
That's right!
And this song may very well be the reoccurring theme of the crimes.
You see, we are starting to form what I presume to be the correct profile.
The murderer is a schizophrenic paranoid.
Anyone who kills with such a frenzy...
...surely does it in a state of temporary insanity!
And well, in every day life this person could appear quite normal.
Like you or me.
And when he kills he must recreate these specific conditions...
...which will trigger the release of all his madness.
A particular time of day, a particular day of the week, even clothing...
Something that recreates the same images that, in the past...
...were the occasional frame of his provoking trauma.
I'd like to add something much less scientific to this business...
...about the children's song.
If you recall, as well as a child singing, Helga also mentioned a house.
And well...
I remember having read a book, quite some time ago, a strange book.
I think the title was "Ghosts of Today and Legends of the Modern Age".
The author spoke about a haunted house, from which the neighbors...
...could sometimes hear singing like this little song.
The book suggested an act of bloodshed was once committed in that house.
Do you have that book?
Oh no, but you could easily find it in the library of folklore and popular traditions.
"Ghosts of Today and Legends of the Modern Age"
The House of the Screaming Child
In a house near Rome, a strange thing happened.
One night, a hunter woke up before dawn...
...and heard a child singing in a high shrill voice; soon after...
...the voice stopped, and he heard shrieking screams and weeping.
No, nothing.
No news other than what Bardi gave me. No names, no addresses.
So, what are you going to do, now?
I'd like to contact the author.
Would you write down her name? Her name is Amanda Righetti.
Got it.
What the hell! What are you doing?
Why did you put the phone right here?!
- What's the matter? - Nothing, listen...
Will you try to find out her address for me? It's important.
She should know where this house is.
She probably knows other things that can be useful to us.
Listen, I'll call you back. I can't hear a thing in this bar.
What did you say?
The address! Oh, this is impossible!
Can't you wait until I'm done? It's a sauna in here!
- When you come, remember the birds. - Oh, don't worry, Ms. Amanda.
I don't understand why you keep these strange Indian blackbirds.
I feel less lonely. They whistle, they imitate things, the television, our voices...
Oh, it's like having a madman around the house!
I'd be scared.
- See you tomorrow. - See you, Elvira.
Elvira!
The child.
The house.
The ghost of the house.