(♪ Gentle upbeat music)
(Camera clicks)
(♪ Eerie music)
(Woman screams)
MYSTERIOUS MURDER OF YOUNG WOMAN
THIRD THIS MONTH
Il Giorno, please.
Thanks.
Aha.
Ah. Usual garbage.
Come on, Carlo. We'll be late.
Relax. They will wait.
I forgot to tell you that the thing you wrote
has been a great success with the experts.
I'm glad they're happy.
Sam Dalmas, great hope of American literature,
now writing manuals on the preservation of rare birds.
It'll be funny if I won a prize for it.
- How is Giulia? - Oh, fine.
She's out of town on a modeling job. I think she'll be back tonight.
- How are things going? - Oh, very well.
Taking her back to the States with me, day after tomorrow.
- Really serious, eh? - Looks like it.
Morning, Professor.
The first thing I'm going to do when I get home
is to look up a friend of mine to return a favor.
I was going through a kind of bad period.
A little short on inspiration. "Go to Italy," he said, waxing poetic.
"You need peace, tranquility. That's Italy.
"Inspiration will come to you. Nothing ever happens in Italy."
- May he roast in hell! - Ha, ha!
So, I came. I believed him.
Toured the country. Saw all the monuments.
Then spaghetti, wine...
Great.
Only I'm dead broke. I haven't written a line in two years.
Wouldn't even have the plane fare home
- if you hadn't come along with this job. - Which you carried out beautifully.
Here is your check, Mr. Dalmas.
Hm.
But... hey, Sam. Don't you want a copy?
Who needs it? I have this.
(Whistling)
(Panting)
(Car horn)
(Car screeches)
(Moaning)
(♪ Eerie music)
(Muffled) Hey, hey! Open the door.
Hey, hey!
How do I open the door?
I can't get in.
How do I open the door?
(Muffled) Hang on. Just hang on!
(Knocking)
(Muffled) Open the door.
Open the door!
(Muffled) Call the police!
(Muffled) I called the police.
(Cries)
(♪ Discordant music)
(Sirens)
(Inaudible speech)
Her pulse is weak but it wouldn't appear to be serious.
She hasn't lost too much blood.
OK, get on with it.
- Yes, sir. - Check for fingerprints.
OK.
(Siren)
Good evening.
I'm Inspector Morosini.
- Tell me about it. - What's that?
What happened?
I want to know everything you saw and heard. Everything.
- How is she? - Oh, she'll be all right.
Thanks to you. Oh, what's your name?
- Sam Dalmas. - Are you English?
No, I'm an American. I was on my way home.
I was walking in front of the gallery and I saw these lights.
I looked up here and I saw these two figures... struggling.
(Moaning)
Put her down carefully.
- (Woman) Poor thing, she was... - (Man) Where were the police?
Let me through. I'm the owner of the gallery.
Monica!
See...
Monica.
- What happened? - She's in no state for questions.
- Is it serious? - No. It's nothing serious.
- A flesh wound. - Come on now, come along.
Let go of me! I'm Alberto Ranieri. She's my wife.
Excuse me.
Monica, speak to me. What happened?
- Please, you're tiring her. - Monica, dear.
- Who did it? Who? - We don't know.
I hope your wife may be able to tell us.
Right, we'll go.
What was she doing here in the gallery at this time of night?
Oh, hm... she was going over the books.
I was supposed to pick her up.
Hm-mm.
Monica, Monica!
Go ahead.
Come on now, stand back. Let the stretcher through.
Poor girl!
Stand back there, please. Stand back now.
Right, that's it.
Now, where were we, eh?
There was something wrong with that scene.
Something odd.
I can't pin it down but I have a feeling that something didn't fit.
Well, think about it. Try to isolate it.
I've tried. I can't pin it down.
Let's see if I can help.
You saw someone run out of this door.
Yeah... but it was so dark under here.
- The door was almost... - Don't touch anything.
Try keeping your hands in your pockets.
It's the only way to avoid temptation.
It saves a lot of time and trouble.
And on the mezzanine was noted a statue of a warrior,
bronze, on the wall,
and a sculpture resembling a branch of a petrified tree.
On the ground floor,
an irregular trail of blood stains from the service door at the rear
to within ten feet of the front window.
Apart from the blood, there is no other sign of a struggle.
- You got that? - Right.
According to you, she came down these stairs.
Not according to me, she did.
In all 39 features.
Now, we'll measure from the window to the stairs.
(♪ Discordant music)
- Blood. - I've had it. I can't take anymore.
We've been through the whole damn thing six times.
Look, I've told you everything. Every detail.
I don't know that woman. I've never seen her before.
Now look, let's start over again.
Maybe there's a detail you've forgotten.
Suppose we go back to the strange figure
you saw running away. Describe it.
I told you it was dark.
I was too far away. It was nothing but a dark figure.
Look, I'm tired.
I'm leaving for the United States the day after tomorrow
and I got a million things to do.
- Really, have you made a reservation? - Yes.
- Have you your passport on you? - Yeah.
- May I have a look at it a moment? - Yes.
Thank you.
- Hey. - Hey, What?
- My passport. - Oh, we'll take care of it for a while.
You're kidding. I can't move without it.
We don't want you to. You're too important to us as a witness.
You saw something which, though you can't recall it,
is, on your own admission, clearly vital.
And until this point is cleared up, I can't allow you to leave.
Now, look. I don't mind coming down here...
What you may not know, is that in this city during the past month
there have been three as yet unexplained murders.
The victim in each case was a woman.
Three crimes all committed without any apparent motive whatsoever.
It seems very clear to me that there is a dangerous maniac
at large in this city.
But what makes the investigations particularly difficult,
and it's for this reason that we require your cooperation,
is that I'm fairly certain this man is, as far as his appearance goes,
quite sane.
In his daily life, he is completely normal.
Like anybody else. Even like you.
- Me? - Why, yes. You... why not?
Let's suppose you are insane.
You entered the gallery and you attacked the woman.
Then when you tried to escape,
you were accidentally trapped between the glass doors.
You're out of your mind.
You can't just grab a foreign citizen and accuse him of murder.
- No one's accusing you. - You're giving me the third degree.
It's illegal. I want to call my consulate right now.
Go ahead.
Call anyone you want. Call the President of the United States.
A tough nut, eh?
- Ah, just... - Here's a copy of Monti's report.
Erm... TWA, I want to cancel a reservation.
Sam Dalmas.
Erm... Number 112. New York, day after tomorrow.
Yeah, thank you.
(♪ Eerie music)
Look out behind!
(Spraying water)
Are you hurt or anything? Can I help you?
No, no, no. Don't worry, I'm OK. Thank you.
Well, that's the most enthusiastic welcome I've ever had.
- Hey, it's been a month now. - Mm.
Had a hard day at the office, dear?
(Snickers)
No.
No, I just...
I just witnessed an attempted homicide.
Was given the third degree by the police.
Had my passport confiscated so now we can't leave.
And just now I my head nearly decapitated by a meat cleaver.
You know... the usual.
Sure, now you just tell me all about it.
Funny thing is, it's the truth.
(Laughs)
(♪ Eerie music)
(♪ Discordant music)
(Laughing)
(♪ Discordant music)
Right, bring in the perverts.
Look at them carefully and see if you recognize anyone.
The murderer could have gone back to the gallery that night
to see if Mrs. Ranieri was dead.
And we can't rule out the possibility that he is a pervert.
Aldo Sarti, age 42. Eight convictions.
Sandro Lorrani, age 35. Exhibitionist.
12 arrests.
Mario Zandri, age 66. Four convictions.
Giacomo Rossi, age 50.
Three convictions for corrupting the morals of minors.
Rupatelli Luigi, alias Ursula Andress...
- No, no. Petrini! - Yes, Inspector?
What's this character doing here? How many times do I have to tell you
Ursula Andress belongs with the transvestites, not the perverts?
- I should hope so. - Thank you.
Come with me, Dalmas. I have something interesting to show you.
We have subjected this glove to a thorough microscopic examination
and have managed to come up with a few interesting facts.
For example, the bloodstains are of the same group as Monica Ranieri's.
We can deduce that the murderer was wearing it at the time.
See these grains? They're tobacco ash,
from which we can tell he smokes expensive cigars.
In fact, we can go further.
The traces of tobacco his fingers left on the glove
are characteristic of Havana cigars.
Look at this here. It was our most exciting discovery.
Microscopic particles of a particular type of fiber made only in England.
We found it inside.
Well, that's a good a start anyway. Basically what it really means is this.
We now know with certainty that he is a man who smokes cigars,
who dresses with elegance and who is above all left-handed.
This we've been able to deduce from the wear on the glove.
Our next move is to feed these facts that our technicians discovered
and other relevant information straight into the computer and get the result.
- Have you done that yet? - Yes, sir. All ready.
Good, then we'll have a look.
This is an outline of the man we are after,
reconstructed with an accuracy of plus or minus 10%.
In a moment will follow the first personal data.
Statistically speaking, the description could fit
approximately 150,000 inhabitants of this city.
Of those, most of the ones we feel are most likely are already in jail.
MALE - APPROX. 40 YEARS - HEIGHT 1.80-1.85 METERS THIN - BROWN HAIR - 75 KG
CHARACTERISTICS REFERRING TO THE FOLLOWING FELONS
Well, what are you waiting for?
You think it's easy to check the alibis of 150,000 people.
Look, I... I've got nothing to go on.
It's only a hunch but I'm convinced
that you really did see the murderer's face that night.
But I told you if there is one thing I'm convinced of...
Concentrate, Mr. Dalmas, please. Try to remember what you saw.
No, it's no use.
I've run through it over and over again.
I can't get it out of my head but I can't manage to pin it down either.
Monica Ranieri has left the hospital and returned to her apartment.
The Via Bruxelles, number 35.
- Can I go now? - Mm-hm.
- What floor? - Third.
(♪ Discordant music)
I'm really sorry, Mr. Dalmas, but my wife can't see anybody.
She's in bed under sedation at the moment.
You understand... after what she's been through.
What did you want to speak to her about?
Oh... nothing much.
I... I just wanted to talk to her about that evening.
I'm convinced I saw something that might lead to the attacker's capture.
I wanted to check what I remember with what your wife remembers.
My wife has already told the police
everything she knows on various occasions.
I can see no reason for subjecting her to that ordeal again.
I see.
- May I ask you an irrelevant question? - Certainly.
How tall are you?
6 feet 1, I think. Why?
I... nothing. Just curious.
- Anything else? - No.
And... I apologize if I've disturbed you.
- Looking for your cigarettes? - Yes.
Here.
I'll... be seeing you, Mr. Ranieri.
(Cheering)
There, didn't I tell you not to bet on that horse?
One's no good. You've got to get two or three.
(Camera clicks)
- Our first victim. - Right.
A sales girl in an antique shop.
She left at the same time every evening
- and was found murdered in a park. - Park?
It was a mile and half from the shop in the opposite direction from her home.
- This is the first question. - What?
Why so far away and why in a park?
Well, she could have gone to meet a boyfriend there.
Second victim. She was a prostitute.
She was killed under a bridge where she took her clients.
They suspected her pimp. His name is Garullo
but his alibi turned out to be iron clad.
Where can I find this Garullo?
You can't. He's in jail.
- At least he was until a month ago. - Great.
- OK, number three. - Number three...
- That was the student. - Student?
She was killed on her way home from the movies.
- Movies? - OK?
Enough?
OK, we start with the first one. The antiques shop.
- Good morning. - Oh, good morning.
- Can I help you? - Er, yes. I'd like to see some...
Ah yes, you're interested in porcelain.
- Oh, I... - You have marvelous taste.
These pieces are beautiful.
- Er... - Simply divine.
- How much is this one? - 300.
Oh... But I won't be unreasonable about it.
- Not with you. - Erm...
My goodness.
Isn't this the shop where that girl worked?
(♪ Gentle upbeat music)
- Pardon? - The girl who was murdered.
Ah. The poor, poor girl.
- What a terrible way to end? - What was she like?
Oh, a lovely girl but... a little unusual, you know.
- Oh? - Well, yes.
It was said that she preferred women.
- I couldn't care less. - Of course not.
I'm no racist for heaven's sake.
I remember that night as if it were yesterday.
We hadn't made a sale all day.
Then just before we closed, we sold a painting.
- It was in the window. - Did you make the sale?
No, the poor girl did. I was checking the books.
Then she went out without even saying goodnight.
Soon after, they found her.
- Um, what was the painting? - Oh, it was strange.
It was naïve but macabre at the same time.
- Would you like to see it? - You still have it?
Oh, I've only a copy of it. A photo.
Oh, I would like to see it, yes.
I'll show you.
Let me see... Oh, here it is.
- Can I borrow this? - No, no, no.
- No, we don't normally allow it. - Please.
(♪ Music continues)
- Hey, what's wrong? - I don't know.
That painting... it bothers me.
What is it?
It's a photo of a painting that's somehow mixed up in these murders.
Looks a bit perverted to me.
- Uh-huh? - Hmm.
Darling.
It gives me the shivers.
(♪ Discordant music)
(♪ Eerie music)
- Something wrong, Miss? - No, nothing. Thanks.
- Goodnight. - Goodnight, Miss.
(♪ Music grows faster)
(Screams)
No! No!
(Panting)
No!
(Screams)
Tell me something. Is it really necessary?
What?
Running around, playing the detective.
Isn't it slightly... ridiculous?
And rather dangerous too?
- No. - Thank you.
Besides, I have a feeling that I'm closer to the truth
than either one of us realizes.
(♪ Gentle upbeat music)
(♪ Sudden burst of eerie music)
What's happening to me?
This damn thing is turning into an obsession.
(Door buzzer)
- Who is it? - Morosini.
Ah, hello.
- How are things? - Fine, come in.
For a minute, I thought I'd got the wrong address.
Doesn't anyone else live in this building now?
No, they're going to tear the building down soon.
My lease doesn't run out until next week.
So, I'm staying on.
Ah-ha.
- Care for a coffee? - Thanks, I would.
In fact, it's just what I need.
I've been up all night.
Ah, thanks.
- How come? - Eh?
Ah.
Here.
- When? - Last night.
A blonde. 28. Lived alone.
The usual blank wall.
No clues. No tie-in with the other three.
The press are beginning to put two and two together.
They think they see a link between the four murders.
Oh Giulia, this is Inspector Morosini.
Good morning.
Excuse me, I think we've met somewhere before?
- No, I'm sure we haven't. - Hey, look at this.
Not another!
As you may have suspected, Mr. Dalmas,
I'm afraid there is an ulterior motive for my visit.
I would like you to come down to headquarters with me.
Why don't you just leave him alone?
No, Giulia.
He isn't even Italian and you're making him risk his life.
Somebody has already tried to kill him once.
And what makes you so sure they won't try again?
You're blackmailing him. You're hanging onto his passport
and at the same time you're appealing to his humane instincts.
Shall we go?
Take care, won't you?
I'm sorry.
(♪ Discordant music)
- Alright, alright. Now then. - Now then nothing.
I've gone over and over it. Absolutely nothing.
I saw them struggling on the mezzanine.
That's as far as I get.
I can't think of anything else.
But I know there's something.
- Thanks. - What are your plans?
Think I'll stick around for a while.
Need any help for your investigations?
- I thought I was being followed. - Oh... for your own protection.
Yes, I would like some help.
I'd like to see that pimp, Garullo.
Oh, that's easily arranged.
Inspector, they've arrived for the television interview.
Very well. Now it's my turn to make a fool of myself
- in front of a few million viewers. - What'll you say?
I don't know. I'll make up some spectacular lies...
'That, briefly, is the situation.
'For the moment, I can only say we have certain information
'which I'm sure will soon lead us to the murderer.
'I urge all citizens to remain calm
'and report anything suspicious to the police immediately.
'Thank you.'
(Phone rings)
Get back to me as soon as you can and let me know if you need anything.
Inspector Morosini.
(Laughter)
Hello?
'I wanted you to know how much I enjoyed your talk
- 'on television just now.' - Who's this?
'Who but the person you are all so anxious to find?
'The unknown the whole city fears...'
Quick, record the call on Morosini's line.
'You haven't got a clue. Not a suspicion. Nothing.
'You know that and so do I.
'It isn't right to trick the public.
'And to prove your threats don't frighten me, I'm telling you now:
'You'll have a fifth murder to solve 'before the end of the week.'
Hello?
Careful, keep it upright. It's very heavy.
It's very interesting. Certainly one of the best examples of cosmic art.
But we never stand still.
In a couple of days we're opening a new show of sculptures.
- You'll be changing everything? - Oh, yes.
These sculptures will all be replaced by others. Yes.
- Mr. Ranieri. - Yes.
Would you mind having a look to check the position, please?
Yes, I'll be with you. Ah, will you excuse me?
- Yes, of course. - It's been nice seeing you here.
Nice to see you too.
I want to thank you for what you did for me that night.
You know they told me, if you hadn't been there
that mad man would have killed me. I'm better now...
It was so frightening. I'll never quite forget it.
Monica, please come here.
Thank you.
- Oh, not at all. - Goodbye, thanks.
Look, what do you think of placing it like this?
It's not perfectly vertical but from below you can see it better
and the points catch more light this way.
(Monica) Yes, of course. You're right.
Yeah, she was my girl, so long.
Where are you going?
You, you said 'so long'.
I always say that.
- If I don't, I stutter. - Oh... I see.
What do you want to know?
I'm trying to help the police find the killer.
That's good, so long, but I don't know what to tell you.
(Sobbing) They picked me up a week after Rosita was murdered.
Poor kid, and here I am in jail.
And those poor girls having to get along without me.
No protection, with that monster loose on the streets.
- What have they got you in for? - Nothing! I was framed.
They got it in... for me, so long.
They say I'm aiding and abetting prostitution
but I'm innocent. Look at me.
Do I... look like a pimp?
No! Look me straight between the eyes and tell me,
do I look like a guy who exploits women?
Of course, I've got nothing against
accepting a little present, now and then.
- You know what I mean? - Sure. Can you give me any help?
I'll tell you one thing for sure. It was nobody... in my bank, so long.
We don't play those games.
It must have been some rich guy.
You know - a gentleman.
They're the ones that get those kinds of ideas.
So you see these guys have a particular code of honor,
which is very different from anything anybody else has.
- And this particular guy... - That man's been following us for hours.
He's Morosini's man. He's our bodyguard.
So anyway, it would be appear that this guy, 'So Long', has got a kind of...
Hey, taxi!
- Oh well, I feel like walking. - Excellent.
So Long's philosophy is that he expects everything from women
and nothing from men.
Stop! Stop!
No... no!
(Car screeches)
Run!
All right, you wait here.
Come on. Quick. It's me they are after.
You can get away. Call Morosini.
(♪ Fast-paced music)
(Gunshots)
(♪ Discordant music)
(Breaking glass)
(Gunshot)
Hey, there's a guy with a gun after me.
- I don't see anyone. - Look, there he is.
Where is he, huh?
Mrs. Johnson!
Excuse me. Have you seen a man with a yellow jacket
- and a blue cap? - Er... yes, sir.
- Where did he go? - In there.
(Chatter)
Come on now, you guys.
It's about time we began talking about some of the problems we face.
Oh, come on! Come on! Pipe down will you.
There's the problem of insurance coverage
and indemnity for permanent disability.
Oh, come on, you guys! Come on, listen to me.
He died without regaining consciousness.
Fractured spine and skull.
Do you think you could recognize him?
I didn't see his face clearly.
I want every man at that convention tracked down.
I don't give a damn where they are. I want photographs, criminal records,
all the particulars you can dig out for me. Get going.
One other thing.
I want two of our top men to cover the two behind me.
They are to be watched day and night.
I'm very sorry to have got you into this mess.
Take my advice. Go back to the United States.
I feel that I'm getting closer to the truth every minute.
The murderer is obviously of the same opinion.
That's why he's trying to... kill me.
The more he tries, the more he risks discovery.
Stop!
Let's see your driver's license.
Try and arrange things so we can spend the weekend together.
- I love you. - Me too.
- Bye. - Bye, Gina.
(♪ Eerie music)
Ah!
(Screams)
(Stuttering) Those... sons of bitches.
They really tried to get you, so long.
Yeah. And I want to find him.
Sure, I'll help you, so long. Let me think.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's it.
- I know the guy for you. - Who?
He ain't cheap but there's nothing he don't know.
OK.
Hey... this is strictly between you and me.
No... police, so long.
Don't worry.
Call the Caramba Pool Hall and ask...
...for Faiena. Tell him So Long sent you.
Elevator. Get an elevator, huh.
- Who are you? - I'm Faiena.
Faiena! Come on in!
We couldn't just meet in a park? Five flights I got to walk up!
- Who's that, huh? - She's a friend. You can trust her.
- Sit down. - No...
Now get this straight.
I don't know anything.
I don't know anybody.
And I ain't seen anything.
- What do you want to know? - The other night, around eleven o'clock,
someone tried to kill me with a pistol and silencer.
He got away and went to the... Lux Hotel.
What's the matter?
- This placed bugged? - No!
Now listen to me.
There was a convention of ex-prize fighters in the hotel.
- He was dressed like one... - You want to turn him in. Is that it?
- No. I just want to talk to him. - I can't help you.
Hundred.
Hundred. What?
- Hundred thousand. - Oh, yeah.
(Faiena coughs)
Oh, come on!
20... 50... 60... 70... 80... 100.
Here.
No, keep it.
10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, 100.
(Chuckles)
- Er... when will I hear from you? - Never!
Maybe tomorrow morning.
(Phone rings)
Hello.
(Laughing)
Yes?
'Think smart, Mr. Dalmas. Take my advice.
'Mind your own business. Stop playing detective.
'It's not healthy.
'That was a warning yesterday. Wasn't it enough?'
- Er, what do you suggest I do? - 'Go back to America.
'Forget about the murders.
'There is a limit to my patience.'
Er, who's speaking?
- 'Is the girl there with you?' - Yes.
'She's very young, very beautiful.
'Would you like her to die? Because if you don't drop everything,
'I will kill her.'
'Go back to America. Forget about the murders.
'There is a limit to...'
(Tape rewinding)
(Clicking)
- Did you hear that clicking sound? - Hm.
I want to know what it is. What makes a sound like that?
- It's all we've got to go on. - I'll find out.
Well...
What are you going to do now?
I don't know.
It was simpler when I had only myself to think about.
Damn painting! There's got to be a lead there somewhere.
Maybe the woman looks like the first victim.
It's too roughly drawn. Could be anybody.
(♪ Gentle upbeat music)
(Phone ringing)
- Hello. - 'This is Faiena.
'Couldn't find out anything.
'But if you're interested, there's an ex-fighter named Needles.
'He might possibly know something. Lives not far from your place.
'Via Angiolieri 39.'
Via Angiolieri 39.
Hello?
(♪ Quiet mysterious music)
Anyone home?
(Door creaks)
(♪ Sudden burst of eerie music)
(Gasps)
Now look at it on the oscilloscope.
'I wanted you to know how much
'I enjoyed your talk on television just now.
'Who but the person you are all...'
Right? Now we listen to the other one.
'Think smart, Mr. Dalmas. 'Take my advice.
'Mind your own...'
Notice any difference between the two tapes?
The waves on the first machine are different from those on the second.
Exactly! You see, every human voice,
no matter how well it's disguised,
has a characteristic pattern
of harmonic intensities in the vowel sounds.
Now, when we analyzed the vowel groups of each of these two tapes,
we made an unexpected discovery.
We found that, whereas the first group
registered at five decibels on the lower range and twelve high,
when we came to the second reading,
we discovered it only barely registered to four and ten.
And the explanation?
The voices don't belong to the same person.
- Are you sure? - Absolutely.
That means there are two killers?
It would seem so.
Unless... there is only one killer confusing us
by dragging an accomplice in. In that case -
it's only a supposition, of course -
he was no doubt the one who tried to kill you.
The one you found murdered.
And now, we'll listen to the sound you gave us to analyze.
We isolated the sound and compared it with hundreds of similar ones.
We've exhausted the field of sounds produced by industrial machinery,
factory demolition sites through to electric doors, cranes,
coin operated machines, domestic appliances. The lot.
But so far, we've been unable to equate it.
What now?
All we can do is keep trying.
OK. Thank you.
Sorry I won't be around for the finish.
- You're leaving? - Day after tomorrow.
I've said that before, haven't I?
40 pages! All written in the last few days.
This little adventure has started me writing again.
- Glad to hear it. - It's broken me loose.
Here, pack these too.
I'm writing frantically again.
What happened to those leads you were following up?
Not a damn thing. Hey, listen to this.
This came over the telephone.
It would have been a great lead if we could've figured out what it was.
'Go back to America. Forget about the murders.
'There is a limit to my patience.
'Is the girl there with you? She's...'
Hey look, hold it. Let me hear it again, will you?
(Tape rewinding)
'...murders. There is a limit to my patience.
'Is the girl there with you? She's...'
- Well? - '...very young...'
I don't know. It reminds me of something.
- I guess I'm wrong. - Great.
Wait a minute.
Leave it. I'll do it.
Hey!
(Laughing)
(I Gentle upbeat music)
Oh, I don't believe it.
- I just can't believe it. - Believe what, huh?
That we're leaving.
Listen, why I don't I take the tape?
Hey, if I think of anything, I'll call you.
I'll call you, eh?
So long.
Do you know...
...these are the last few hours in this house.
Do you really love me?
- Mm? - Sure, sure.
- How much time have we got? - How much what?
- How long till the plane leaves? - Eight hours.
- Why? - That may be just enough.
Hey! What do you want to do now?
Sam!
- Er... hello? - 'Hello.'
- Is this the Trouvaille? - 'It is.'
This is Sam Dalmas speaking.
I'm the American who borrowed the photograph
- of the painting of that murder. - 'Yes, I remember.
- 'You were so charming.' - Er, yes. Yes.
Can you tell me the name of the artist who painted the picture?
'His name is Berto Consalvi.'
Berto Consalvi.
Erm, can you tell me where I can find him?
'Yes, he lives in a town not far from here,
'about an hour and a half by train.'
- What's the name of it? - 'Aviano.'
Aviano. Thank you.
- Thank you very much. - 'You're welcome. It's a pleasure.'
An hour and a half by train. I can just make it.
I've got to talk to that painter.
That first girl was murdered just after she sold a painting
of a girl being murdered. There's got to be a connection.
I'll be gone four or five hours. You finish packing.
There's no need to worry so long as you don't leave the house.
There are two detectives watching the front door.
Bolt the door and don't open it for anyone.
I love you.
I never should have believed you. I'm a fool.
Cut it out!
Oh, if you need anything, and you won't, call Morosini .
You know the phone number. No!
Thanks for the lift. Would have been some walk.
You're welcome.
If you take my advice, get out of here. The man's crazy.
You never know what'll happen next.
- Thanks for the advice. - Then follow it, huh?
But in case you are minded to carry on,
you needn't go looking for the door. It ain't no use.
He's walled up the whole darn building. Doors, the windows, the lot.
There's got to be some way of getting in.
There is, but it doesn't mean he'll let you in.
If your face ain't right, he'll soon tell you what you can do with it.
Consalvi.
Berto Consalvi!
(Gruff voice) 'Go to blazes.'
I want to buy a painting.
'What do you want it for?'
For my house?
Hey!
- Why did you wall up your house? - To keep out the busy-bodies.
Nobody gets in here unless I want them to.
Besides those cats.
- Who told you about me? - Er... nobody.
I saw one of your paintings. I liked it.
What was it?
Oh... It was one about a murderer killing a girl.
Bah...
I don't do that crap anymore.
I'm going through a mystical period.
I only paint mystical scenes.
Why?
Why? Because I feel mystical. If it's any of your damned business.
No, no. It's not.
What was your inspiration for that painting?
You want to eat?
Er, yeah.
Oh... that was a real story. A long time ago.
Fine.
How long?
Oh, ten years, more or less.
A maniac got hold of a girl I knew.
Tried to cut her up.
Just stopped him in time.
Put him in an asylum for life.
Ah.
Ah. Genius!
Hey...
...you want to buy a painting or not?
- Hm. - Well, do you?
Yeah. Sure, sure.
Come with me.
I got just the thing.
Early Consalvi, very rare.
Hey, hey. Quick, quick! Shut the window.
Quick, shut the window!
Hey!
Ah, there you are. Got you!
(Cat meows)
Naughty Theodore.
Blasted cats.
Crafty creatures.
They always manage to find a hole to slip through.
Why do you keep them in a cage?
The less they move, the fatter they get.
Why do you want them to get fat?
Why do I want them to get fat?
I eat them.
- Oh, no! - What's the matter? Don't you like cat?
I don't know.
I never ate any.
Never, huh?
Here, take this one.
- 200,000. - Oh, no!
No? All right. 150.
Oh, no!
- 100. - Oh, no.
50,000!
Capitalist!
- (Giulia) 'Hello?' - You still mad at me?
'Sam. Where are you?'
I'm at the station in Aviano on my way home.
'How did it go?'
Well, I talked to him but I didn't get anywhere.
There's been a railway strike. I'll be about an hour and a half late.
'Oh, no. What about the plane, Sam?'
Oh, don't worry. I'll be there on time.
- Everything OK? - 'Yes.
'Carlo telephoned. He wanted to talk to you urgently.
'He said he'd discovered something that would interest you.'
- What? - 'He didn't say.
'I told him you'd left me here alone
'and that I'd have him call you as soon as you get back.'
(♪ Eerie music)
Ah, Sam.
Sam.
Sam?
(Screams)
(Clatter)
(Banging)
(Whispering) 'You will not leave this house alive.'
Help! Help!
Help!
(♪ Discordant music)
(Muffled cries)
(Banging)
(Sobbing)
(Screams)
(Sobbing)
'Giulia!
'Giulia!'
Sam.
Sam!
How do you feel?
All right. Did they get him?
No. He must have slipped out through the cellar or something.
What time is it?
- Just after 4:30. - No!
You slept around the clock.
Ha. Hey, hey. Peeping Tom, eh?
So sorry.
You were supposed to call me, you know.
I've got news for you.
The phone's been out of order.
Ah, I think I've finally figured out what that creaking sound is.
Sam, it's very peculiar.
What is it? It's the call of Hornitus Nevalis.
A magnificent bird with long, white feathers that look like glass.
What's so strange about it?
Well, the only place in the world that bird can live is Northern Siberia.
- Are you sure? - Positive.
How about a drink, eh? I deserve one.
In any case, it's almost impossible
to keep one of those birds alive in captivity.
In fact, there's only one specimen in the whole of Italy.
And that has to be kept... Hey, hey! What are you doing?
- What's the matter? - Wait a minute.
- You mean there is one here? - Yes, that's what I'm trying to tell you.
It's practically a miracle but they're managing to keep one alive.
- Where? - Where else would you keep a rare bird?
The zoo!
The cage is over that way, near the back of the zoo. Over there.
Hey, come on. It's quite a walk.
Oh, it's not far now. They have to keep it isolated.
It doesn't get along with the other animals. Over there.
They'll have to move it, though. It can't even stand the smell of them.
There it is.
Ranieri.
He called from his apartment. I remember now.
The telephone is right next to that window.
(Woman screaming)
Monica!
Come on, Giulia.
Open the door!
Right, leave it to us.
Give me the knife.
Don't shoot. Let her go.
There's no way out.
Give yourself up, Ranieri.
You can't get away.
- Drop the knife. - No!
Don't move. There's no way out.
No!
Drop the knife.
Keep away from me.
Keep away.
That's enough.
What just happened?
- Where did he get you? - Giulia, come on.
Save me.
Please.
I don't want to die.
Help me. I don't want to die.
I can't hold him. I can't hold him!
(Screams)
(Thud)
Yes, it's true. I'm the murderer.
I killed all of them.
Please take care of my wife.
She tried... to stop me.
I love her.
Poor devil. I feel sorry for him.
Morosini here. Put me through to Homicide.
You haven't seen the girl I was with, have you?
No, she was behind us when we got to the apartment.
- Isn't she here? - No.
- Have you seen her since then? - No, I haven't.
Thanks.
Have you seen a girl come by with long hair, blonde?
- She came down a while ago. - Sure?
- Which way did she go? - She ran off in that direction,
- with two others. - Thanks.
Splat! His head burst open like a watermelon.
Excuse me.
Have you seen a girl go by in that direction,
with long, blonde hair
and a gray raincoat down to about here?
I think so, yes. Sure.
(♪ Eerie music)
Excuse me. Have you seen a girl with long, blonde hair
and a gray raincoat down to here?
Yes, I saw her go in there.
- In that door? - That's what I said.
Thanks.
- This one here? - Yes.
(Knocking)
(Door creaking)
(Clatter)
(Phone dial tone)
(♪ Quiet eerie music)
(♪ Discordant music)
Carlo. My God!
What have you done with Giulia?
Answer me.
(Laughter)
(Evil laughter)
It was you.
That's where I went wrong.
'You had the knife in your hand. You were trying to kill your husband.
'Not the other way round.'
That's what I knew I'd seen.
That's what I knew I'd seen!
(Banging)
(Groaning)
(♪ Discordant music)
(♪ Sudden burst of dramatic music)
Ah!
Help me.
Help.
Help me!
(Evil laughter)
Now, you're going to die.
You're going to die.
Like all the others.
(Cries)
Right, come on. Quick.
One at each end. That's it. Now lift.
That's enough. Hold it.
No, no. I'll pull you.
Ah, that's it.
You all right, Dalmas, eh?
- How did you find out? - Giulia.
Giulia?
Uh-huh.
Yes, she'll be all right.
And you. You'll be all right too, eh?
Come on. I'll help you up.
As Inspector Morosini,
who's been in charge of the investigation, has told you,
the final curtain has fallen at last on this tragic affair
which has kept the whole city in a state of shock.
Monica Ranieri, hopelessly insane, is in custody at the psychiatric hospital.
Her husband, who loved her not wisely but too well,
lost his life in a last attempt to turn suspicion away from his wife.
Inspector Morosini,
can you explain to us what led this poor, unbalanced creature
to commit these horrible murders?
Ah, mm. Good evening.
(Coughing)
Sorry.
Well, I...
I think the person best qualified to answer this question
is Professor Renoldi,
the well-known psychiatrist, who acted as our consultant
during the investigation.
Please, Professor, you would explain, huh?
Certainly.
For the moment, we can only make conjectures.
Ten years ago Monica Ranieri,
who had already evident paranoid tendencies,
was brutally attacked and suffered severe trauma.
'Nevertheless, she recovered sufficiently to return to a normal life.
'Her mental disturbance remained dormant for ten years
'until the day she came across the painting
'which depicted the horrible scene of which she had been the protagonist.
'Her latent madness came to life, violent and irresistible.
'Strangely, she did not identify herself with the victim but with her attacker.
'In order to explain the behavior of her husband,
'who attempted murder on various occasions to protect his wife,
'we must assume that he suffered from an induced psychosis.
'He was influenced by his paranoid wife
'to the point of becoming homicidally psychotic himself.'
(♪ Gentle music)
(Sam) 'I can hear him saying it now.
'Go to Italy. It's a peaceful country. Nothing ever happens there.'