Deep Red (1975) Movie Script
DEEP RED
Great!
Really, that's good. Very good.
Maybe a bit 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 brothels...
...and this phenomenon,
as the latest studies confirm,
is not restricted to superior species
but 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 easily be demonstrated.
For instance, if we put a butterfly
in a cage, within a few hours,
it will be able to gather
many other butterflies around it
which will quickly swarm in,
in answer to its call,
even covering a distance
of several miles. This is telepathy.
The faculty comes naturally to
the newborn in the early stages of life
but they lose it as they acquire
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 Ulmann
who is here in Italy
for a series of conferences.
Helga has extraordinary
telepathic powers.
We've been amazed by her
natural inclination for the paranormal.
I will let her tell you herself.
Helga Ulmann.
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,
being so strong,
that 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...
Forgive my pronunciation... Valgoi?
Yes, Valgoi, that's right.
Mr Valgoi, excuse me.
May I ask you something?
Do you know Mrs Ulmann
by any chance?
- No.
- Forgive my persistence.
Could you have met her before
and told her your name?
How could I? I live in Bologna.
I only arrived in Rome three hours ago!
It's absolutely impossible.
Good, thank you, sir.
No, no!
Out! Out! No!
Excuse me.
I'm sorry.
There is something...
...someone.
No, I don't know what it is.
Forgive me. I'm sorry.
Helga?
I can't explain what it was.
Something strange and sharp,
like a knife
entering my flesh.
Please forgive me,
but it's all right 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 children's song
and that house down there
and...
...death.
And that blood!
I'm scared, I'm scared!
Helga, it's all right!
Calm down, that's enough!
Yes, let's hide everything,
as if nothing happened in the house.
Everything back the way it was.
No one must know,
no one must find out!
Just forget, forget everything...
...forever... forever.
Are you OK?
Anything I can do for you?
Get some help?
It was all so clear, believe me.
It was 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 gathered in my mind,
but I'll write them all down tonight
at home.
I'll let you have it tomorrow.
You may use it as you see fit.
I'm saying this because now,
you see,
I also know who that person is.
- 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 really need some rest.
I'm feeling very tired.
Shouldn't we talk about that
right away?
I'd like this article to be published
while I'm still in Italy.
Yes, I am alone.
Yes, I am a bit jumpy,
but don't worry.
We'll talk again tomorrow?
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,
votre sant, skI!
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! One of your philosophies
I wasn't aware of yet!
Actually, I just thought of it.
I'm really sharp when I'm drunk.
What was that?
A scream, I'd say.
Who knows, maybe a 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 to 40 years old.
She has abrasions and cuts
all over her body.
So, you're a foreigner, then?
Yes, I was born in London
but I lived in America
for several years before coming here.
And what are you doing in Italy?
I'm 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 a job, right?
- I told you, I'm a pianist.
- Yeah, sure.
So, then, that's your only job.
Playing an instrument isn't a job?
What is it, a joke?
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.
Did you move, change
or take anything from here?
Are you crazy? We're very careful
not to move anything.
Why? Is there something wrong?
No, no. I mean...
It's just an impression.
Sorry, you were asking?
Ah yes, the victim. After you.
You knew her, didn't you?
I already told you, I live upstairs.
Her name was Helga Ulmann.
- Coffee?
- Thank you.
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? With 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!
This is a complex investigation.
Look who's here.
Gianna Brezzi.
Yes, Captain.
- Who told you about the crime?
- I have my sources.
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 never!
I thought she was...
You! Yes, I'm sure of it. You're
the one who saw the whole thing.
The eyewitness extraordinaire!
Fabbroni, get me Mingozzi.
I have something to tell him.
- Then call the station.
- Yes, Captain.
Why must I go to the police station?
I told you everything I know!
Your statement
has to be typed up officially.
You know how it is with bureaucracy.
All your details are needed:
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 very strange
happened to me,
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, I don't think so.
If I remember well, it was some sort
of composition of faces.
It was very unusual.
Maybe you've seen something
so important that you don't realise.
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...
...where you can no longer distinguish
one flavour 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 man there with the raincoat,
that's Giordani.
He's a professor in psychiatry
and a parapsychology enthusiast.
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 good friend of poor Helga.
Let's go.
By the way, I wanted to thank you.
Good to be brought
to the attention of murderers!
Come on!
You may not believe me, but I don't
have a steady boyfriend right now.
- Me neither.
- I should hope not!
- I meant a girlfriend!
- That's why you're always so jumpy.
Me jumpy? Oh, please!
I'm not jumpy at all.
Yeah, right. Stop fidgeting!
And your hands are shaking.
Tell me, what's going on?
How many times must I tell you,
I'm an artist?
In case you've forgotten,
we artists are very sensitive people.
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 how to stop your jumpiness.
What? Here at the cemetery?
Are you crazy?
I have other things on my mind.
Do you understand?
- Sure, you're scared senseless.
- I'm not scared!
Right.
You're almost shitting yourself.
And it's all my fault.
I'd like to see him.
I'm curious to see him face to face.
You'd be better off
returning to England.
I actually decided to stay.
- You just decided?
- Yes, maybe.
Anyway, I need to concentrate.
I must try to remember.
I'm sure I saw something
important that night
but I can't remember what exactly!
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 uncomfortable?
Why don't you help
with this murder story?
If you could give me
a 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?
It jams.
We'll need a mechanic to open it.
That's all we need. Damn!
The car's not exactly new,
you know?
- Just drive fast, will you?
- Why?
I'm a bit claustrophobic.
All right.
Tell me, Enrico, why do Australian
boomerang sellers go bankrupt?
I don't know that one.
Because the goods
are always returned!
Funny, don't you think?
- Is Carlo not in yet?
- He never shows up before 10:00.
Can you tell him I was looking for him?
I need to speak to him urgently.
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 towards
the middle of the sixth or seventh row.
And you can't remember anything?
Not even a face?
No, that's impossible.
All the lights were on us
and the stalls were in darkness.
I must say, I do seem to recall,
while Helga was speaking,
I noticed some kind of movement
in the sixth or seventh
or maybe the eighth 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 it was just an impression
more than anything else.
With the lights on,
we couldn't see anything.
You see?
You're not jumpy any more.
You can even button your shirt
without shaking at all.
Look, will you cut it out
about being jumpy?
It's a question of 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 when I press the keys,
it's like smashing his teeth.
Actually, it's because I love music.
What about you?
Why are you a journalist?
Because I like working.
I think a woman has to be independent
to be equal to a man.
Oh, God,
let's not start on gender 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 here.
- What's this?
- Arm wrestling.
Come on.
Then we'll see who's delicate!
- Don't be ridiculous!
- Are you afraid?
That was cheating, completely.
You can't start before I'm ready!
- It doesn't count. Play by the rules.
- You too!
We do it properly or not at all.
Still want to try?
Will you play by the rules
without cheating? Properly?
- Are you sure?
- Yes!
Let's go.
Both elbows on the table,
no sudden movements.
- I know the rules!
- We'll start when I say, OK?
Ready?
Steady... steady, wait...
One...
...two...
...three...
Go!
That doesn't count either!
You lifted your elbow off the table.
That's a dirty old trick!
- You're a cheat! It's so ridiculous!
- You're right.
- 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'm going by myself.
Oh, sure, but where?
I'm off 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. Clear?
Listen, don't be angry now.
Why can't I go with you?
- We started this 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.
Have it your own way, stupid!
I'll do my own investigation,
and we'll see who comes out on top.
What's that?
Another arm wrestling match?
Yes, sort of.
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.
OK. 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.
All right.
Bye.
Tell me the truth.
Do you find me so unattractive?
No.
So, what's wrong, then?
My scent? 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.
I know you by name.
Carlo mentions you very often.
You're an engineer, aren't you?
No, I'm a pianist.
I teach at the conservatory.
A pianist? Please, come in.
What can I offer you?
Coffee, a drink of something?
No, thank you, nothing.
I just came to see Carlo.
He wasn't at the Blue Bar, so...
A drink? Is this all right?
It's Coca Cola!
I'll just make some coffee...
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.
But come here, Marc.
Come and talk to me.
Take a seat.
Tell me about yourself.
How long have you been an engineer?
- No. Madam, I'm a pianist.
- And I'm an actress.
Or rather I was an actress.
Look at those photos.
What do you think?
Was I good or not?
Yes, I'm sure. I just wish
I'd had the opportunity to...
Never mind. When I married
Carlo's father, Carlo wasn't yet born.
He made me give up my career.
Now, it's all gone.
It's not important now.
I console myself 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 don't have 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 looking for a friend, Carlo.
His mother gave me this address.
Is he here?
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.
See. He's been like this
for over an hour.
He started drinking, as usual.
Maybe more than usual.
Then he started talking nonsense.
Look who's here.
You caught me red-handed.
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, you won't
last long if you drink so 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 will do you good.
Then I'll take you out
for some fresh air.
I love that guy.
But he's always so sad.
He drank a lot today.
Then he started talking nonsense.
I think he's cracking up.
He said he wanted to go away.
Then he wanted to make love.
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.
Are you coming with me?
Yes.
Bye.
Sorry...
for what happened before.
Don't be silly. Call me.
Goodbye.
- Why did you come looking for me?
- I wanted to ask you something.
Remember the other night,
the night of the murder?
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.
Then you said a lot of things
about memory and truth.
Things I didn't understand at the time.
Yeah.
I remember something
a bit muddled
but I can't remember
what I wanted to say.
I was probably talking nonsense.
I was really drunk.
Listen to me, Marc.
Why don't you just pack up
and clear out?
What are you doing
messing with this business anyway?
Why are you aggravating a madman?
A maniac?
Anyone committing
such a monstrous crime
has to be 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
there's something important about it.
So now... it's become
a kind of 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!
...police have set up
several checkpoints.
There's been no further news
on the murder of German
mind reader, Helga Ulmann.
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 eyewitness can identify
the mysterious night visitor.
Carlo should be 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!
There's somebody in the house.
He spoke to me. He wants to kill me!
- Should I call the police?
- Wait a second.
Hello?
No doubt about it.
That's the same song I heard last night.
And if I remember correctly
you said Helga talked
of a children's song in the theatre.
That's right, and this song may well
be the recurring theme of the crimes.
You see, we're starting to form
what I presume to be the right profile.
The murderer is
a paranoid schizophrenic.
Anyone who kills with such a frenzy
surely does so in a state
of temporary insanity.
In everyday life,
this person could appear quite normal.
Like you or me.
When he kills, he must recreate
these specific conditions
which trigger the release
of all his madness.
A particular time and day
of the week, even clothing.
Something that recreates
the same images
that frame a context
that provoked trauma in the past.
I'd like to add something
that is somewhat less scientific
to this business
of the children's song.
If you recall, as well as a child singing,
Helga also mentioned a house.
And I remember having read
a strange book, quite some time ago.
I think the title was "The Modern Ghost
and the Black Legends of Today".
The author spoke
of a haunted house
where the neighbours could sometimes
hear singing, like this little song.
The book implied an act of bloodshed
was once committed in that house.
Do you have that book?
No, but I think you could easily find it
in the folklore library.
The Modern Ghost
and the Black Legends of Today
"THE HOUSE
OF THE SCREAMING CHILD
"In a house near Rome,
a strange thing happened.
"One night,
a hunter woke before dawn
"and heard a child singing
in a high shrill voice.
"Soon after, the voice stopped
and he heard screaming and weeping. "
No, nothing.
No news other than what Bardi
gave me. No name, no address.
So, what are you going to do now?
I'd like to contact the author.
Can 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?
It's important.
She should know where this house is.
She probably knows
other useful stuff too.
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 like a sauna in here!
- When you come, remember the birds.
- Don't worry, Miss Amanda.
I don't understand why you keep
these strange Indian blackbirds.
I feel less lonely. 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.
You have two choices. You can
either flee to Lebanon, quickly...
Or I can try to find out
what's going on as soon as possible.
How long will the police take
to find me?
Did you take a taxi to Amanda's?
No, a rental car.
Why haven't you fixed this seat?
- I feel silly sitting so low down!
- I forgot. Sorry.
They'll find you by your fingerprints.
I bet you left
them all over the house, right?
It would take another Florence flood
to wipe them clean!
Say they find
the body tomorrow morning.
They'll check the prints
against the usual suspects.
It'll take them
a while to connect both murders,
but in the end they'll be after you.
You only have
a couple of days. It's not long.
No, it's not.
But first, I have to find this.
What a nice house. It looks strange.
Do you know where it is?
I wouldn't have to look for it if I knew!
- So, what are you going to do?
- I'm not telling you.
It seems like
everything here has ears.
How could the killer know
I was coming here?
I have no idea.
One thing's for sure.
I'm not telling anyone my next move.
This is so unbelievable!
You're so nice!
Hey, darling,
I hope you don't think that I'm...
Listen, I'm doing this to protect you,
to keep you out of danger.
- I promise, as soon as I...
- Blah, blah, blah!
I swear, as soon as I discover
something, I'll tell you.
Why don't we stop
this stupid childish competition?
We should be working together.
You know,
two brains are better than one.
Just where do you women
keep your brains?
Let's be honest.
Women have brute force,
you beat us at arm wrestling, but men
have the monopoly on intelligence.
- Have I made myself clear?
- Yes, very clear.
At last.
A little drink?
I have Anisette,
Sambuca, Caff Borghetti.
Don't you have anything less sickly?
Whisky? Cognac?
Yes, that's better.
We'd be more comfortable
at my place, don't you think?
Maybe, but we're fine here.
Yes, but I think it would be better
at my place.
OK, let's go.
Who do you think you are, idiot?
I've never met a man
as arrogant as you!
You must have been spoilt rotten
by women!
Anyway, it's because I don't have
a boyfriend right now. That's all!
You've got such a big head.
- Oh, damn.
- What's wrong?
Guess.
Yes, it's a dracaena indivisa.
I'm sure of it. An exotic tree
that grows in the Canaries.
It's highly delicate.
It suffers if exposed to cold.
We've never imported it.
It's very rare in or around the city.
- No, sir, never handled it myself.
- Thanks.
No, never.
- Yes.
- Are you sure?
Absolutely.
But it was a long time ago.
I remember because I'd just opened.
I ordered some from the Canaries.
Unfortunately, most died.
The climate here isn't right for them.
I had lots of complaints.
I never ordered them again.
- Who did you sell them to?
- I'll check.
I'll look up the old invoices.
Why do you care?
I'm an architect.
It's for an environmental study.
Well, let's see what we can find.
Where's my bottle? Spit out my bottle,
for Christ's sake! Damn you.
Captain, finally!
I've been looking for you for an hour!
What do you want?
Does no one check these machines?
They do, but they steal the drinks.
Of course!
This place is full of thieves!
- Sorry, sir, but you're not thinking.
- Not you, idiot.
So, are you doing overtime?
Yes. The strike's been called off
for now.
Our requests
are examined by the Ministry.
- But we're planning a sit-in.
- What are you planning?
A protest sit-in.
We all gather outside in the courtyard
and stay there
for one, two, four hours...
- What did you want to tell me before?
- I almost forgot.
The chief is here
and he insists on speaking to you.
Oh, crap!
Hello? Is that Professor Giordani?
This is Marc Daly. I need
to talk to you. It's very important.
No, I'd like to see you right now,
if possible.
Amanda Righetti was murdered.
Her arm was out to the side
and her finger was pointing at the wall.
It didn't look natural to me.
It was as if she was trying
to point something out.
Do you think they've discovered
the body by now?
Yes.
Maybe the pointing finger
is a figment of your imagination.
I'll go over there and take a look.
You never know.
FOR SALE
TO LEI'm just the caretaker.
The house belonged to Carl Schwartz.
- Where is he now?
- He died.
He was a German writer,
an odd sort of fellow.
He bought the place in '68, I think.
Before then
it had been empty for a long time.
People used to say
it was haunted by ghosts.
Schwartz never heard the rumours.
He just thought the price was right.
Knowing him,
he'd have bought it with the ghosts.
- And who lived there before?
- I don't know. I came here in '67.
This writer, Schwartz.
Do you know how he died?
An accident, poor fellow.
He fell out of a window.
I'm the one who found her, you know?
This morning, very early,
around 8:00.
I come every morning
to clean the house.
I could have died of shock!
The police kept me for hours asking
all sorts, wanting to know everything.
But what could I tell them?
What do I know?
It hasn't been half an hour
since they took out the body!
Poor Amanda.
Who could have done that?
A maniac, who else? It's always
a maniac and they never catch them!
Where was the body?
In the bathroom.
Come, I'll show you.
Look at all this blood.
It's everywhere.
I'm going to clean up a bit.
I leave before it gets dark.
I'm not staying here alone!
Excuse me, I want to at least
clean these marks off.
Excuse me.
Hello?
Oh, it's you, Francesca.
Oh, if you only knew
what I've been through.
No, no. They've gone.
Yes, they took her away.
Yes, they questioned me.
It was never-ending!
A big man with a moustache
said I was an important witness,
that I could help him.
I know quite a bit.
Of course I told him everything!
Oh, don't worry,
I'll take the 6:30 bus...
IT WAS...
What are you doing?
Why are you running the hot water?
I just wanted to find out
who murdered Amanda.
With hot water?
Yes, with hot water.
Do you know
if the police found anything?
Just a little doll.
- Anything else?
- I heard them mentioning a child.
Of course.
A child.
That's right.
A child.
My daughter will go with you.
I don't have time right now.
- There's no rush to return the keys.
- OK. Thank you.
Olga!
Come back this minute!
Come on!
- What is it?
- You little witch.
I told you not to do that again!
Now off you go!
- What did you do?
- I didn't do anything.
Don't worry,
my father's just a little crazy.
Bye.
Go home.
I'll return the keys later.
- Be careful!
- Why?
- There are ghosts in there!
- What ghosts?
I don't know,
but everyone around here says so.
Bye.
Mr Daly!
- Mr Daly!
- Yes?
Thank goodness!
We didn't see you come back.
- Anything wrong?
- No, I was about to leave.
The lights were cut off
a couple of years ago.
No one was living here.
What happened to your forehead?
It's nothing, just a scratch.
A piece of glass fell on my head.
I warned you to be careful.
Giordani.
- Hello, Gianna?
- Hi Marc. Having fun?
I'm having a ball.
I finished two crossword puzzles.
Well, I have a tough puzzle
to solve here.
They killed Giordani not long ago.
The neighbours called the police.
They heard screaming.
- What happened there?
- Nothing, it's just a scratch.
Listen.
Seriously, I have to admit
I don't know what's going on right now.
This son of a bitch knows everything!
He knows every move in advance.
Sorry, but I don't remember
where you said I should flee to?
- Lebanon.
- Yeah, right.
Lebanon.
But I'd have to fly to get there
and I'm scared of flying.
It's nothing to be nervous about.
Just think you'll be landing soon,
one way or another.
Thank you.
How about we take the car
and drive to Spain?
We? You mean that I can come too?
- Yes, if you'd like to.
- Of course I'd like to!
We'll have a fantastic holiday!
Sun, sea, bullfights, parties,
flamenco... How does it sound?
Sure, of course.
I suggested it, after all.
I don't know about you
but I'm on the verge of a breakdown.
There's no point staying here
and talking about it.
Come on. Let's not waste any time.
You go back home and pack.
I'll be back in an hour!
We'll have to rent a car,
because mine isn't good for long trips.
I know.
I love you!
And who's this?
An old girlfriend.
Her name is Carol.
- From Rome?
- She's American. She lives in Paris.
You used to go for vamps, then?
You like super sexy women.
Hello? Good evening.
This is Marc Daly.
- Oh, the engineer.
- No, the pianist. Remember?
Could I speak to Carlo?
Is he home?
He just went out. Would you like
to come here and wait for him?
We could chat.
Time flies when you have company.
Besides, maybe you didn't know,
but I used to be an actress.
- What an idiot.
- I could recite... What did you say?
Nothing, sorry. Good evening.
Why didn't I notice that before?
Gianna - I'm at 24 Via Susa.
Marc x
I was right.
There's no window.
Great!
Forget it. It's too late.
What happened?
I found your note and I hurried here.
I saw a reddish light
in one of the windows.
So I looked for you. You'd passed out,
lying in the flames.
You know, you're lucky to be alive.
A few more minutes
and you'd have been roast chicken!
Damn it! It's all lost.
The body, the walled-in room
and that picture on the wall.
Yes, 24 Via Susa. My name is
Gianna Brezzi, I'm a reporter.
Yes, of course it's urgent.
Try and hurry up.
Yes, hello, Fire Department?
I want to report a fire at 24 Via Susa.
What's the phone number here?
831-4726.
Please hurry,
the fire has been burning for a while.
I want to know how it started
in the first place.
Well, if there are ghosts...
- Who gave you this?
- I did it.
That's impossible!
You couldn't have seen it!
Who gave it to you? Don't lie to me!
Leave her alone. She made it up.
She's a strange child.
If you could just see what she does
to animals! She likes the macabre.
That may be true, but she couldn't
possibly have imagined this!
It's identical to the one
in the house!
I saw it at school.
Good girl. Now tell me where
you got this. Just tell me.
One day, as a punishment,
they made me clean up the archives.
There were lots of drawings,
and in a '50s file,
there was one just like that.
- Where do you go to school?
- The Leonardo da Vinci School.
LEONARDO DA VINCI
STATE MIDDLE SCHOOL
HEADMASTER
SECRETARY
ARCHIVES
There must be a million of them!
They're all divided by subject
and academic year.
DRAWINGS
Academic Year
1951-52
Academic Year
1950-1951
- What is it?
- Didn't you hear that?
No, what was it?
I don't know. I can't describe it.
You keep at it.
I'm going to take a look.
What do you say, I call the police
and tell them we're here?
Yeah, you're right.
Gianna.
Gianna!
Marc, help me.
Gianna, darling!
Stay calm, darling.
All this for some shitty article!
You know who it is?
Yes, I know.
I found the picture.
Did you get that?
It's not far, you'll see it right away.
The name is over the door.
Leonardo da Vinci.
Don't hide.
It's no use hiding.
I know who you are now.
I read your name.
Carlo.
I got here too late.
What a shame.
So, now what are you going to do?
Kill you.
And I'm sorry because I like you.
But I have to do it.
I told you to stay out of it.
Pack up and clear out, I said!
Why didn't you listen to me?
Because you're stupid and stubborn.
Don't you realise it's all your fault?
You wouldn't let it go.
If you hadn't got involved, if you
hadn't stuck your damn nose in...!
You'll pay for this.
He could have killed you!
- Over there! The wall!
- Stop or I'll shoot!
- She's out of danger.
- When will she wake up?
Not until tomorrow. The operation
was difficult, but successful.
She's a strong girl, don't worry.
No, that's impossible.
He was with me when Helga was killed.
He saw the killer too.
It couldn't have been him!
It had nothing to do with him.
So why?
POLICE INVESTIGATION
Maybe that painting
was made to disappear
because it represented
something important.
Something so important
that you wouldn't even realise it.
Important.
That painting...
A mirror.
What an idiot.
It was just a mirror.
There never was a painting there.
What I saw
was a reflection in the mirror.
I saw the face of the murderer.
Damn you... Damn you!
You caused my son's death!
He had nothing to do with any of this!
He was...
He was only trying to protect me.
He never hurt anyone!
What do you know
about what happened?
Now, don't worry.
Nothing's going to happen to you.
It's all right.
I'll take you to the clinic myself.
No, I told you,
I'm not going back there again.
I told you. You can't force me again.
But it's for your own good, dear.
You heard what the doctor said.
No.
Great!
Really, that's good. Very good.
Maybe a bit 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 brothels...
...and this phenomenon,
as the latest studies confirm,
is not restricted to superior species
but 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 easily be demonstrated.
For instance, if we put a butterfly
in a cage, within a few hours,
it will be able to gather
many other butterflies around it
which will quickly swarm in,
in answer to its call,
even covering a distance
of several miles. This is telepathy.
The faculty comes naturally to
the newborn in the early stages of life
but they lose it as they acquire
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 Ulmann
who is here in Italy
for a series of conferences.
Helga has extraordinary
telepathic powers.
We've been amazed by her
natural inclination for the paranormal.
I will let her tell you herself.
Helga Ulmann.
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,
being so strong,
that 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...
Forgive my pronunciation... Valgoi?
Yes, Valgoi, that's right.
Mr Valgoi, excuse me.
May I ask you something?
Do you know Mrs Ulmann
by any chance?
- No.
- Forgive my persistence.
Could you have met her before
and told her your name?
How could I? I live in Bologna.
I only arrived in Rome three hours ago!
It's absolutely impossible.
Good, thank you, sir.
No, no!
Out! Out! No!
Excuse me.
I'm sorry.
There is something...
...someone.
No, I don't know what it is.
Forgive me. I'm sorry.
Helga?
I can't explain what it was.
Something strange and sharp,
like a knife
entering my flesh.
Please forgive me,
but it's all right 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 children's song
and that house down there
and...
...death.
And that blood!
I'm scared, I'm scared!
Helga, it's all right!
Calm down, that's enough!
Yes, let's hide everything,
as if nothing happened in the house.
Everything back the way it was.
No one must know,
no one must find out!
Just forget, forget everything...
...forever... forever.
Are you OK?
Anything I can do for you?
Get some help?
It was all so clear, believe me.
It was 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 gathered in my mind,
but I'll write them all down tonight
at home.
I'll let you have it tomorrow.
You may use it as you see fit.
I'm saying this because now,
you see,
I also know who that person is.
- 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 really need some rest.
I'm feeling very tired.
Shouldn't we talk about that
right away?
I'd like this article to be published
while I'm still in Italy.
Yes, I am alone.
Yes, I am a bit jumpy,
but don't worry.
We'll talk again tomorrow?
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,
votre sant, skI!
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! One of your philosophies
I wasn't aware of yet!
Actually, I just thought of it.
I'm really sharp when I'm drunk.
What was that?
A scream, I'd say.
Who knows, maybe a 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 to 40 years old.
She has abrasions and cuts
all over her body.
So, you're a foreigner, then?
Yes, I was born in London
but I lived in America
for several years before coming here.
And what are you doing in Italy?
I'm 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 a job, right?
- I told you, I'm a pianist.
- Yeah, sure.
So, then, that's your only job.
Playing an instrument isn't a job?
What is it, a joke?
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.
Did you move, change
or take anything from here?
Are you crazy? We're very careful
not to move anything.
Why? Is there something wrong?
No, no. I mean...
It's just an impression.
Sorry, you were asking?
Ah yes, the victim. After you.
You knew her, didn't you?
I already told you, I live upstairs.
Her name was Helga Ulmann.
- Coffee?
- Thank you.
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? With 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!
This is a complex investigation.
Look who's here.
Gianna Brezzi.
Yes, Captain.
- Who told you about the crime?
- I have my sources.
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 never!
I thought she was...
You! Yes, I'm sure of it. You're
the one who saw the whole thing.
The eyewitness extraordinaire!
Fabbroni, get me Mingozzi.
I have something to tell him.
- Then call the station.
- Yes, Captain.
Why must I go to the police station?
I told you everything I know!
Your statement
has to be typed up officially.
You know how it is with bureaucracy.
All your details are needed:
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 very strange
happened to me,
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, I don't think so.
If I remember well, it was some sort
of composition of faces.
It was very unusual.
Maybe you've seen something
so important that you don't realise.
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...
...where you can no longer distinguish
one flavour 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 man there with the raincoat,
that's Giordani.
He's a professor in psychiatry
and a parapsychology enthusiast.
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 good friend of poor Helga.
Let's go.
By the way, I wanted to thank you.
Good to be brought
to the attention of murderers!
Come on!
You may not believe me, but I don't
have a steady boyfriend right now.
- Me neither.
- I should hope not!
- I meant a girlfriend!
- That's why you're always so jumpy.
Me jumpy? Oh, please!
I'm not jumpy at all.
Yeah, right. Stop fidgeting!
And your hands are shaking.
Tell me, what's going on?
How many times must I tell you,
I'm an artist?
In case you've forgotten,
we artists are very sensitive people.
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 how to stop your jumpiness.
What? Here at the cemetery?
Are you crazy?
I have other things on my mind.
Do you understand?
- Sure, you're scared senseless.
- I'm not scared!
Right.
You're almost shitting yourself.
And it's all my fault.
I'd like to see him.
I'm curious to see him face to face.
You'd be better off
returning to England.
I actually decided to stay.
- You just decided?
- Yes, maybe.
Anyway, I need to concentrate.
I must try to remember.
I'm sure I saw something
important that night
but I can't remember what exactly!
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 uncomfortable?
Why don't you help
with this murder story?
If you could give me
a 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?
It jams.
We'll need a mechanic to open it.
That's all we need. Damn!
The car's not exactly new,
you know?
- Just drive fast, will you?
- Why?
I'm a bit claustrophobic.
All right.
Tell me, Enrico, why do Australian
boomerang sellers go bankrupt?
I don't know that one.
Because the goods
are always returned!
Funny, don't you think?
- Is Carlo not in yet?
- He never shows up before 10:00.
Can you tell him I was looking for him?
I need to speak to him urgently.
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 towards
the middle of the sixth or seventh row.
And you can't remember anything?
Not even a face?
No, that's impossible.
All the lights were on us
and the stalls were in darkness.
I must say, I do seem to recall,
while Helga was speaking,
I noticed some kind of movement
in the sixth or seventh
or maybe the eighth 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 it was just an impression
more than anything else.
With the lights on,
we couldn't see anything.
You see?
You're not jumpy any more.
You can even button your shirt
without shaking at all.
Look, will you cut it out
about being jumpy?
It's a question of 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 when I press the keys,
it's like smashing his teeth.
Actually, it's because I love music.
What about you?
Why are you a journalist?
Because I like working.
I think a woman has to be independent
to be equal to a man.
Oh, God,
let's not start on gender 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 here.
- What's this?
- Arm wrestling.
Come on.
Then we'll see who's delicate!
- Don't be ridiculous!
- Are you afraid?
That was cheating, completely.
You can't start before I'm ready!
- It doesn't count. Play by the rules.
- You too!
We do it properly or not at all.
Still want to try?
Will you play by the rules
without cheating? Properly?
- Are you sure?
- Yes!
Let's go.
Both elbows on the table,
no sudden movements.
- I know the rules!
- We'll start when I say, OK?
Ready?
Steady... steady, wait...
One...
...two...
...three...
Go!
That doesn't count either!
You lifted your elbow off the table.
That's a dirty old trick!
- You're a cheat! It's so ridiculous!
- You're right.
- 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'm going by myself.
Oh, sure, but where?
I'm off 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. Clear?
Listen, don't be angry now.
Why can't I go with you?
- We started this 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.
Have it your own way, stupid!
I'll do my own investigation,
and we'll see who comes out on top.
What's that?
Another arm wrestling match?
Yes, sort of.
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.
OK. 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.
All right.
Bye.
Tell me the truth.
Do you find me so unattractive?
No.
So, what's wrong, then?
My scent? 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.
I know you by name.
Carlo mentions you very often.
You're an engineer, aren't you?
No, I'm a pianist.
I teach at the conservatory.
A pianist? Please, come in.
What can I offer you?
Coffee, a drink of something?
No, thank you, nothing.
I just came to see Carlo.
He wasn't at the Blue Bar, so...
A drink? Is this all right?
It's Coca Cola!
I'll just make some coffee...
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.
But come here, Marc.
Come and talk to me.
Take a seat.
Tell me about yourself.
How long have you been an engineer?
- No. Madam, I'm a pianist.
- And I'm an actress.
Or rather I was an actress.
Look at those photos.
What do you think?
Was I good or not?
Yes, I'm sure. I just wish
I'd had the opportunity to...
Never mind. When I married
Carlo's father, Carlo wasn't yet born.
He made me give up my career.
Now, it's all gone.
It's not important now.
I console myself 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 don't have 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 looking for a friend, Carlo.
His mother gave me this address.
Is he here?
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.
See. He's been like this
for over an hour.
He started drinking, as usual.
Maybe more than usual.
Then he started talking nonsense.
Look who's here.
You caught me red-handed.
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, you won't
last long if you drink so 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 will do you good.
Then I'll take you out
for some fresh air.
I love that guy.
But he's always so sad.
He drank a lot today.
Then he started talking nonsense.
I think he's cracking up.
He said he wanted to go away.
Then he wanted to make love.
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.
Are you coming with me?
Yes.
Bye.
Sorry...
for what happened before.
Don't be silly. Call me.
Goodbye.
- Why did you come looking for me?
- I wanted to ask you something.
Remember the other night,
the night of the murder?
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.
Then you said a lot of things
about memory and truth.
Things I didn't understand at the time.
Yeah.
I remember something
a bit muddled
but I can't remember
what I wanted to say.
I was probably talking nonsense.
I was really drunk.
Listen to me, Marc.
Why don't you just pack up
and clear out?
What are you doing
messing with this business anyway?
Why are you aggravating a madman?
A maniac?
Anyone committing
such a monstrous crime
has to be 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
there's something important about it.
So now... it's become
a kind of 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!
...police have set up
several checkpoints.
There's been no further news
on the murder of German
mind reader, Helga Ulmann.
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 eyewitness can identify
the mysterious night visitor.
Carlo should be 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!
There's somebody in the house.
He spoke to me. He wants to kill me!
- Should I call the police?
- Wait a second.
Hello?
No doubt about it.
That's the same song I heard last night.
And if I remember correctly
you said Helga talked
of a children's song in the theatre.
That's right, and this song may well
be the recurring theme of the crimes.
You see, we're starting to form
what I presume to be the right profile.
The murderer is
a paranoid schizophrenic.
Anyone who kills with such a frenzy
surely does so in a state
of temporary insanity.
In everyday life,
this person could appear quite normal.
Like you or me.
When he kills, he must recreate
these specific conditions
which trigger the release
of all his madness.
A particular time and day
of the week, even clothing.
Something that recreates
the same images
that frame a context
that provoked trauma in the past.
I'd like to add something
that is somewhat less scientific
to this business
of the children's song.
If you recall, as well as a child singing,
Helga also mentioned a house.
And I remember having read
a strange book, quite some time ago.
I think the title was "The Modern Ghost
and the Black Legends of Today".
The author spoke
of a haunted house
where the neighbours could sometimes
hear singing, like this little song.
The book implied an act of bloodshed
was once committed in that house.
Do you have that book?
No, but I think you could easily find it
in the folklore library.
The Modern Ghost
and the Black Legends of Today
"THE HOUSE
OF THE SCREAMING CHILD
"In a house near Rome,
a strange thing happened.
"One night,
a hunter woke before dawn
"and heard a child singing
in a high shrill voice.
"Soon after, the voice stopped
and he heard screaming and weeping. "
No, nothing.
No news other than what Bardi
gave me. No name, no address.
So, what are you going to do now?
I'd like to contact the author.
Can 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?
It's important.
She should know where this house is.
She probably knows
other useful stuff too.
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 like a sauna in here!
- When you come, remember the birds.
- Don't worry, Miss Amanda.
I don't understand why you keep
these strange Indian blackbirds.
I feel less lonely. 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.
You have two choices. You can
either flee to Lebanon, quickly...
Or I can try to find out
what's going on as soon as possible.
How long will the police take
to find me?
Did you take a taxi to Amanda's?
No, a rental car.
Why haven't you fixed this seat?
- I feel silly sitting so low down!
- I forgot. Sorry.
They'll find you by your fingerprints.
I bet you left
them all over the house, right?
It would take another Florence flood
to wipe them clean!
Say they find
the body tomorrow morning.
They'll check the prints
against the usual suspects.
It'll take them
a while to connect both murders,
but in the end they'll be after you.
You only have
a couple of days. It's not long.
No, it's not.
But first, I have to find this.
What a nice house. It looks strange.
Do you know where it is?
I wouldn't have to look for it if I knew!
- So, what are you going to do?
- I'm not telling you.
It seems like
everything here has ears.
How could the killer know
I was coming here?
I have no idea.
One thing's for sure.
I'm not telling anyone my next move.
This is so unbelievable!
You're so nice!
Hey, darling,
I hope you don't think that I'm...
Listen, I'm doing this to protect you,
to keep you out of danger.
- I promise, as soon as I...
- Blah, blah, blah!
I swear, as soon as I discover
something, I'll tell you.
Why don't we stop
this stupid childish competition?
We should be working together.
You know,
two brains are better than one.
Just where do you women
keep your brains?
Let's be honest.
Women have brute force,
you beat us at arm wrestling, but men
have the monopoly on intelligence.
- Have I made myself clear?
- Yes, very clear.
At last.
A little drink?
I have Anisette,
Sambuca, Caff Borghetti.
Don't you have anything less sickly?
Whisky? Cognac?
Yes, that's better.
We'd be more comfortable
at my place, don't you think?
Maybe, but we're fine here.
Yes, but I think it would be better
at my place.
OK, let's go.
Who do you think you are, idiot?
I've never met a man
as arrogant as you!
You must have been spoilt rotten
by women!
Anyway, it's because I don't have
a boyfriend right now. That's all!
You've got such a big head.
- Oh, damn.
- What's wrong?
Guess.
Yes, it's a dracaena indivisa.
I'm sure of it. An exotic tree
that grows in the Canaries.
It's highly delicate.
It suffers if exposed to cold.
We've never imported it.
It's very rare in or around the city.
- No, sir, never handled it myself.
- Thanks.
No, never.
- Yes.
- Are you sure?
Absolutely.
But it was a long time ago.
I remember because I'd just opened.
I ordered some from the Canaries.
Unfortunately, most died.
The climate here isn't right for them.
I had lots of complaints.
I never ordered them again.
- Who did you sell them to?
- I'll check.
I'll look up the old invoices.
Why do you care?
I'm an architect.
It's for an environmental study.
Well, let's see what we can find.
Where's my bottle? Spit out my bottle,
for Christ's sake! Damn you.
Captain, finally!
I've been looking for you for an hour!
What do you want?
Does no one check these machines?
They do, but they steal the drinks.
Of course!
This place is full of thieves!
- Sorry, sir, but you're not thinking.
- Not you, idiot.
So, are you doing overtime?
Yes. The strike's been called off
for now.
Our requests
are examined by the Ministry.
- But we're planning a sit-in.
- What are you planning?
A protest sit-in.
We all gather outside in the courtyard
and stay there
for one, two, four hours...
- What did you want to tell me before?
- I almost forgot.
The chief is here
and he insists on speaking to you.
Oh, crap!
Hello? Is that Professor Giordani?
This is Marc Daly. I need
to talk to you. It's very important.
No, I'd like to see you right now,
if possible.
Amanda Righetti was murdered.
Her arm was out to the side
and her finger was pointing at the wall.
It didn't look natural to me.
It was as if she was trying
to point something out.
Do you think they've discovered
the body by now?
Yes.
Maybe the pointing finger
is a figment of your imagination.
I'll go over there and take a look.
You never know.
FOR SALE
TO LEI'm just the caretaker.
The house belonged to Carl Schwartz.
- Where is he now?
- He died.
He was a German writer,
an odd sort of fellow.
He bought the place in '68, I think.
Before then
it had been empty for a long time.
People used to say
it was haunted by ghosts.
Schwartz never heard the rumours.
He just thought the price was right.
Knowing him,
he'd have bought it with the ghosts.
- And who lived there before?
- I don't know. I came here in '67.
This writer, Schwartz.
Do you know how he died?
An accident, poor fellow.
He fell out of a window.
I'm the one who found her, you know?
This morning, very early,
around 8:00.
I come every morning
to clean the house.
I could have died of shock!
The police kept me for hours asking
all sorts, wanting to know everything.
But what could I tell them?
What do I know?
It hasn't been half an hour
since they took out the body!
Poor Amanda.
Who could have done that?
A maniac, who else? It's always
a maniac and they never catch them!
Where was the body?
In the bathroom.
Come, I'll show you.
Look at all this blood.
It's everywhere.
I'm going to clean up a bit.
I leave before it gets dark.
I'm not staying here alone!
Excuse me, I want to at least
clean these marks off.
Excuse me.
Hello?
Oh, it's you, Francesca.
Oh, if you only knew
what I've been through.
No, no. They've gone.
Yes, they took her away.
Yes, they questioned me.
It was never-ending!
A big man with a moustache
said I was an important witness,
that I could help him.
I know quite a bit.
Of course I told him everything!
Oh, don't worry,
I'll take the 6:30 bus...
IT WAS...
What are you doing?
Why are you running the hot water?
I just wanted to find out
who murdered Amanda.
With hot water?
Yes, with hot water.
Do you know
if the police found anything?
Just a little doll.
- Anything else?
- I heard them mentioning a child.
Of course.
A child.
That's right.
A child.
My daughter will go with you.
I don't have time right now.
- There's no rush to return the keys.
- OK. Thank you.
Olga!
Come back this minute!
Come on!
- What is it?
- You little witch.
I told you not to do that again!
Now off you go!
- What did you do?
- I didn't do anything.
Don't worry,
my father's just a little crazy.
Bye.
Go home.
I'll return the keys later.
- Be careful!
- Why?
- There are ghosts in there!
- What ghosts?
I don't know,
but everyone around here says so.
Bye.
Mr Daly!
- Mr Daly!
- Yes?
Thank goodness!
We didn't see you come back.
- Anything wrong?
- No, I was about to leave.
The lights were cut off
a couple of years ago.
No one was living here.
What happened to your forehead?
It's nothing, just a scratch.
A piece of glass fell on my head.
I warned you to be careful.
Giordani.
- Hello, Gianna?
- Hi Marc. Having fun?
I'm having a ball.
I finished two crossword puzzles.
Well, I have a tough puzzle
to solve here.
They killed Giordani not long ago.
The neighbours called the police.
They heard screaming.
- What happened there?
- Nothing, it's just a scratch.
Listen.
Seriously, I have to admit
I don't know what's going on right now.
This son of a bitch knows everything!
He knows every move in advance.
Sorry, but I don't remember
where you said I should flee to?
- Lebanon.
- Yeah, right.
Lebanon.
But I'd have to fly to get there
and I'm scared of flying.
It's nothing to be nervous about.
Just think you'll be landing soon,
one way or another.
Thank you.
How about we take the car
and drive to Spain?
We? You mean that I can come too?
- Yes, if you'd like to.
- Of course I'd like to!
We'll have a fantastic holiday!
Sun, sea, bullfights, parties,
flamenco... How does it sound?
Sure, of course.
I suggested it, after all.
I don't know about you
but I'm on the verge of a breakdown.
There's no point staying here
and talking about it.
Come on. Let's not waste any time.
You go back home and pack.
I'll be back in an hour!
We'll have to rent a car,
because mine isn't good for long trips.
I know.
I love you!
And who's this?
An old girlfriend.
Her name is Carol.
- From Rome?
- She's American. She lives in Paris.
You used to go for vamps, then?
You like super sexy women.
Hello? Good evening.
This is Marc Daly.
- Oh, the engineer.
- No, the pianist. Remember?
Could I speak to Carlo?
Is he home?
He just went out. Would you like
to come here and wait for him?
We could chat.
Time flies when you have company.
Besides, maybe you didn't know,
but I used to be an actress.
- What an idiot.
- I could recite... What did you say?
Nothing, sorry. Good evening.
Why didn't I notice that before?
Gianna - I'm at 24 Via Susa.
Marc x
I was right.
There's no window.
Great!
Forget it. It's too late.
What happened?
I found your note and I hurried here.
I saw a reddish light
in one of the windows.
So I looked for you. You'd passed out,
lying in the flames.
You know, you're lucky to be alive.
A few more minutes
and you'd have been roast chicken!
Damn it! It's all lost.
The body, the walled-in room
and that picture on the wall.
Yes, 24 Via Susa. My name is
Gianna Brezzi, I'm a reporter.
Yes, of course it's urgent.
Try and hurry up.
Yes, hello, Fire Department?
I want to report a fire at 24 Via Susa.
What's the phone number here?
831-4726.
Please hurry,
the fire has been burning for a while.
I want to know how it started
in the first place.
Well, if there are ghosts...
- Who gave you this?
- I did it.
That's impossible!
You couldn't have seen it!
Who gave it to you? Don't lie to me!
Leave her alone. She made it up.
She's a strange child.
If you could just see what she does
to animals! She likes the macabre.
That may be true, but she couldn't
possibly have imagined this!
It's identical to the one
in the house!
I saw it at school.
Good girl. Now tell me where
you got this. Just tell me.
One day, as a punishment,
they made me clean up the archives.
There were lots of drawings,
and in a '50s file,
there was one just like that.
- Where do you go to school?
- The Leonardo da Vinci School.
LEONARDO DA VINCI
STATE MIDDLE SCHOOL
HEADMASTER
SECRETARY
ARCHIVES
There must be a million of them!
They're all divided by subject
and academic year.
DRAWINGS
Academic Year
1951-52
Academic Year
1950-1951
- What is it?
- Didn't you hear that?
No, what was it?
I don't know. I can't describe it.
You keep at it.
I'm going to take a look.
What do you say, I call the police
and tell them we're here?
Yeah, you're right.
Gianna.
Gianna!
Marc, help me.
Gianna, darling!
Stay calm, darling.
All this for some shitty article!
You know who it is?
Yes, I know.
I found the picture.
Did you get that?
It's not far, you'll see it right away.
The name is over the door.
Leonardo da Vinci.
Don't hide.
It's no use hiding.
I know who you are now.
I read your name.
Carlo.
I got here too late.
What a shame.
So, now what are you going to do?
Kill you.
And I'm sorry because I like you.
But I have to do it.
I told you to stay out of it.
Pack up and clear out, I said!
Why didn't you listen to me?
Because you're stupid and stubborn.
Don't you realise it's all your fault?
You wouldn't let it go.
If you hadn't got involved, if you
hadn't stuck your damn nose in...!
You'll pay for this.
He could have killed you!
- Over there! The wall!
- Stop or I'll shoot!
- She's out of danger.
- When will she wake up?
Not until tomorrow. The operation
was difficult, but successful.
She's a strong girl, don't worry.
No, that's impossible.
He was with me when Helga was killed.
He saw the killer too.
It couldn't have been him!
It had nothing to do with him.
So why?
POLICE INVESTIGATION
Maybe that painting
was made to disappear
because it represented
something important.
Something so important
that you wouldn't even realise it.
Important.
That painting...
A mirror.
What an idiot.
It was just a mirror.
There never was a painting there.
What I saw
was a reflection in the mirror.
I saw the face of the murderer.
Damn you... Damn you!
You caused my son's death!
He had nothing to do with any of this!
He was...
He was only trying to protect me.
He never hurt anyone!
What do you know
about what happened?
Now, don't worry.
Nothing's going to happen to you.
It's all right.
I'll take you to the clinic myself.
No, I told you,
I'm not going back there again.
I told you. You can't force me again.
But it's for your own good, dear.
You heard what the doctor said.
No.