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[record player]

[swing music from record player]

Gladys: Good morning, sir.

Sir?

♪ ♪

voz en radio: Send units and a press
attaché to La Maravillosa.

Who's the victim?

Chazarreta.
The victim is Pedro Chazarreta.

♪ ♪

ONLY IF YOU LOVE ME

-You want a quick coffee?
-No, no.

-You sure?
-I'm in a hurry.

Okay. This is what she sent us.
She really liked

your article about the golfer,
so you can use that.

Then there's the title:
"Untying the Knots of the Soul."

Pretty metaphor.

Well, there you have it.
Nobody's forcing you to do this.

Don't start.

Let's have lunch this week.
We haven't talked in ages.

-So you can untie my knots?
-Anything to get you back.

I'm out of excuses to explain why
we're not publishing your new novel.

Give it up, Carlos. There is no
new novel and there never will be.

Save that lunch
for one of your new authors.

Come on, Nurit...

Bye.

I've gotta go.

-See you later.
-Yeah, right.

-Brena.
-Thanks.

reporter: International
will be covering Syria.

Wait, we also have the crisis
in Greece. No.

Definitely Syria, okay?

Sports, Messi, obviously.

Karina: Let me see.

A study from the University
of Massachusetts

proves that men prefer to sleep
face-up and women face-down.

So crushing your balls hurts more
than crushing your tits.

One day of menstrual cramps,
sore balls will feel like a caress.

That's what I need,
someone to caress me.

-Right now?
-It wouldn't hurt.

I'll leave before I get silly.

Excuse me, where can
I find the section directory?

-What do you need?
-The directory.

Tell me whose number you need

-and I'll give it to you.
-The directory.

There you have it.

Nothing more recent,
something digital?

Tell me whose number you need
and I'll give it to you.

No, this is fine, thank you.

Remember you have to dial 4
before the number...

[phone ringing]

VOLUNTARY RETIREMENT

Brena.

voice on phone: It's me. I've got something
that will knock you on your ass.

Then I'd better sit down.

Chazarreta was found dead.

Pedro Chazarreta?

That's right. In La Maravillosa.
Apparently his throat was slit.

That's all I know.
I've gotta go, bugs everywhere...

Gato. Gato. Gato...

Damn it, Gato.

If anyone asks for me,
I'll be right back.

One.

Hello?

Karina? Brena.

Yeah, listen.
I need you to do me a favor.

CHAZARRETA - THROAT SLIT?
LA MARAVILLOSA

He didn't say anything else?

No, just to tell you
about the note.

[phone ringing]

[answering machine] Hi, this is Brena.
Leave a message.

He didn't answer?

No.

Yeah, he disconnects sometimes.

He isn't screwing with me
because I'm new...

No. He doesn't screw around
with these things.

Lorenzo: Okay.

Thanks.

This is police chief Venturini's
personal cell number.

Call him and tell me
how it goes.

Mariano.

We'll go with the front page.

[phone ringing]

[answering machine] Hi, this is Nurit.
Leave a message after the beep.

Lorenzo?

-What are you doing?
-Ringing the bell.

Yeah, I can see...

I can see that.

What's up?

How are you?

You look the same.

I have to go,
someone's picking me up.

What happened?

Pedro Chazarreta was found dead.

When?

A few hours ago, at his home.
Slit throat.

Very similar to Gloria Echagüe.

I need a column from you
and you can't say no this time.

No, no.

And here's the good part.

I got a house at La Maravillosa.
It's all yours.

What do you say?

I'm grateful, but no.

I really am in a hurry.

It's been long enough,
hasn't it?

This is just work.

Why didn't you call first?

A non-fiction column in the paper
could bring you back.

I don't want to come back.
I have work.

As a slave?

No, as a ghost writer.

Why come to me?

Listen to me, Nurit.

This case will be huge.
We want to give it special coverage.

And to do that we need

what Argentinean literature's
Dark Lady does so well: observe

and write things that grab people.

That's all. Nothing else.
Work.

I can't believe my eyes.

-Should we leave?
-No.

-What is that jerk doing here again?
-Stop.

[horn]

Stop honking!

Look. Think it over, I'll call you
and you can say yes or no.

Okay?

You look beautiful.

[TV] Two other defendants
were acquitted.

We remind you that today's hearings
will be held in La Plata.

We're covering today's big story:
Pedro Chazarreta's death.

He had been previously accused of
murdering his wife, Gloria Echagüe.

Here's what he told Jaime Brena
minutes after being acquitted.

That's what happened to me.

I don't know what I'd have to say
to not look guilty,

which you've apparently
established.

I had to say I ran to her body
and wept inconsolably.

The thing is, people here
have made up their minds.

They think they know the truth.

It's a very Argentinean trait,

typical of people here.

What do people in the street say?

They support me.
They know I'm innocent.

But based on what you just said,
it seems quite the opposite.

Make no mistake,
I'm an ordinary man.

Do I have to explain the difference

between a successful man
and a powerful one?

Powerful men are untouchable.
Nothing reaches them.

[phone ringing]

Hi.

Hi, Nurit. It's Carlos.

You won't insist, right?

I have bad news.
They cancelled the collection.

Cancelled it?

I just found out.
There's nothing I can do.
[phone ringing]

That's awful.

I know, I'm very sorry.
[phone ringing]

So "Untying the Knots"
is the last one?

No, Nurit.
They cancelled everything.

I thought it was strange you
hadn't come to cash in your favor.

They sent me to Siberia.
Any marks?

None.

-What did you do?
-I talked too much.

Knife imprint?

Upwards, lacerating artery vessels.
Not self-inflicted.

What did you say?

On the evening news.

That I read the competition because
I believe it more than the Tribune.

You said that?
What a schmuck.

Whoever did this is a professional.

Or a lucky first-timer.

All set.

Last time I almost got fired.

You came, you saw...

and now you're gone.

Here you go.

We'll do a great job.

I'm glad you accepted.

How are your bosses
handling the crisis?

You can imagine.

Well, at least they've managed
to avoid bankruptcy in Spain

thanks to their profits
in South America.

Not the first time it's happened.

Very funny.

We're doing well here.

The modernization plan
is on track

and we're still diversifying.

By the way, did you know our group
bought your publisher?

Yeah, I know.

You're becoming quite
a media conglomerate.

-Congratulations.
-Thanks.

I think. I can never tell with you.

Come in.

This is Mariano Saravia,
our new Crime chief.

-It's a pleasure.
-How are you?

You already know

Nurit will be in La Maravillosa
to get the inside story.

I think it's a great idea.
Nurit Iscar at the Tribune.

It will spice up the case.

You two stay in contact.

If you need anything,

ask Brena. No matter what he says,
he has to help you.

Nurit's reports will go out
the day after tomorrow.

Unless you reach today's deadline.
Half a page.

Maybe.

-Half a page?
-Too much or not enough?

No...

Don't get me wrong,

I'm just worried about space
for other news.

If you've got so much good stuff,

we'll give her a special page
in another section.

Anything else?

No.

-I'm going to finish a story.
-Go on.

Nice meeting you.

Bye.

I'm going too.

I have a long drive ahead of me.

Think you'll have anything today?

Don't pressure me, Lorenzo.
We only just started.

I missed you, Betibú.

I'll send you something soon.

I'm leaving.
We'll be in touch, okay?

-Okay, thanks.
-Bye.

-Sorry.
-No problem.

No problem.

What was Betibú doing here?

Who?

Nurit Iscar.

Rinaldi hired her to write about
the Chazarreta case.

He also said you had information
for me about his wife's murder.

Wow, the Kaiser had an idea there.

Did you ever read "A Slow Death"?
"The Shadow Between us"?

No, I don't read crime novels.

The archive is over there.
Under C for Chazarreta

you'll find everything I wrote
on the subject.

Okay. I'll call you
if I need anything else.

Yeah, do that.

Son of a bitch.

Ma'am, there's nobody in the house
to authorize your entry.

No, there's nobody there.
I'm coming to stay there.

But we don't have authorization
to let you through.

I have the key. I wouldn't have it
if I weren't authorized.

It wouldn't be the first time,
ma'am.

Okay, then call the owner.

We tried but there's nobody
at the house.

No, not at the house.

Try calling him somewhere else.
His cell maybe...

We don't have personal information
on members, only the house numbers.

Okay, then I'll call him.

Fine. Please move your car
to clear the gate.

We'll move it right now.

Sir, you can't park here.

-Fine, I'll move it.
-Wait. Why not?

No one can park in front
of the country club.

Why not?

I don't see any official signs
forbidding it.

It's club policy.

But the club has no jurisdiction
over a public city street.

The orders come from above.

All I see are clouds up there.

There's no parking here.
Are you listening...?

You're the one
who isn't listening.

-Ma'am, I'll just move the car.
-No, you won't.

The lady has been given
authorization.

Perfect.

At least he can't spit
in your food.

-Never let people push you around.
-There are lost causes.

Yes, that's true.

[typing] It's a day like any other
here at La Maravillosa.

You walk in the shade

of its trees

and you dream that nothing bad
will ever happen to you here,

behind the wall.

Nevertheless, someone got past
the security checkpoints

and killed Pedro Chazarreta
in his own home.

Or the murderer was on this side of
the wall the whole time

and still is.

What is more disturbing
for the people who live here?

Thinking a killer
might be living among them

or knowing the wall
that protects them can be breached?

La Maravillosa.
Absences that raise questions.

LA MARAVILLOSA
ABSENCES THAT RAISE QUESTIONS

-Someone's in trouble.
-Mariano: I'll call you in 5 minutes.

Why have they published information

we don't even have?
Can you explain it to me?

Mariano: I don't know.

Venturini and the D.A.
said they had no news.

But they had news for Lidijover.
Brena.

Good luck.

Brena, get over here.

Call Nurit.

Have her authorize you for a visit
tomorrow. Brena, you know the place.

Go with him and help him
with anything he needs.

Is that okay, Mariano?

I don't think it's necessary.
I won't have any trouble.

It's necessary.

Brena: Excuse me, Rinaldi.

I thought you took me off
Crime.

Don't give me that bullshit.
You're going, period.

Since you asked nicely...

I'll ask however the fuck I want.

The photo from the D.A., kid.

Trading info for gossip.
It's Lidijover's specialty.

CHAZARRETA CASE: NEW SIGNS
POINT TO VIOLENT ROBBERY

Here...

Are you sure this is it?

That's what it says.

Hello.
[dog barking]

Go outside.

How are you?

Hi.

Brena. I see my colleague
didn't tell you I was coming.

Nurit Iscar.
How's your knee?

They had to operate,
but it came out fine.

Right...

[dog barking]

Sorry...

Friends, my son,
my son's friends...

The house has been taken.

And this thing won't stop barking.

Get me out of here
and I'll go happily.

Good morning.

-Morning.
-How's it going?

We're reporters from the Tribune.
Police Chief Venturini?

He already left.

-Has he been gone long?
-No.

Can we go inside the house?

I'm sorry, it's been sealed.

And the backyard?

I'm sorry, there's an investigation
underway.

Nobody can go in,
especially reporters.

Hi, Chief. How are you?

It's Jaime Brena.

Okay, Chief.
I'll let you know.

I'll let you know.

Very kind of you.

Please don't touch anything,
we'll visit the house together.

This is where they found
Gloria Echagüe's body.

Yes.

-I was obsessed with that case.
-Who wasn't?

-Please, ma'am. Stay together.
-Sorry.

[tense music]

[glass breaks]

Can I take a photo?

Venturini: As long as you don't publish it.

Sorry. I'm Police Chief Venturini.

Police Chief Carlos Venturini.

At your service, Ms. "Nuri" Iscar.

Nurit Iscar.

Nurit Iscar, sorry.

-Can I take a photo?
-Sure, go ahead.

-Mariano: How are you, chief?
-The truth is,

I was nearby, Brena said you
were here and I came especially

to meet you.
I admire your work very much.

-Thank you.
-Please.

Excuse me.

You can leave us.

Excuse me, are you helping Brena?

No, sir. We spoke the other day.

Mariano Saravia, the new head
of the Crime section.

-Chief: What did you do?
-Are you surprised, chief?

I'm surprised
they didn't do it sooner.

Sir, do you know what Chazarreta
was doing when he was killed?

He was drinking one of these.

Or several, judging by the quantity
of alcohol in his blood.

What else was he doing besides
drowning himself in whisky?

Maybe he was reading
"Continuity of Parks."

You don't read crime novels,
but you do read Cortázar.

I'll make a list of everything
I read for your approval.

Chief: He was listening to music too.

The record player was turning
the whole weekend.

Was anything taken?

Yeah, but that's still confidential.

They left a good whisky.

Yes.

This place was like his refuge.
He never left.

It's exactly like
when I interviewed him.

Excuse me.

Will you sign it for me?

I don't think Chazarreta will mind
if I keep it.

Oh, sorry.

My wife will be insanely jealous
when she reads it.

Thank you very much.

He was a jazz fanatic.

I used that when I interviewed him.

Do you like jazz?

Yes. It bores me a bit,
but I like it.

That's because nobody
ever took you dancing.

Venturini!

-Brena: You know Collazo?
-Mariano: Chazarreta's friend.

Brena: Another proud inhabitant
of La Maravillosa.

He defended Chazarreta to the media
during his trial.

What was Venturini doing there?

-A police mystery.
-The mystery is this country.

Imagine the judge trying
to figure out what the thieves took

and what the police took
for souvenirs.

It wasn't a robbery.

How do you know?

The body was completely clean
besides the cut.

And?

No signs of violence?

Nothing. If it were a robbery
there would be signs of a struggle.

If they'd found Chazarreta there

they would have tried
to make him talk.

Why was the body untouched?

It's strange.

We should talk to whoever
found the body.

woman: Romancito.

Keep it down, son.

He didn't have any children.

He had a brother, but they hadn't
seen each other for ages.

So you stayed with him
until the police got there?

Yes, sir.

Then Mr. Collazo showed up.

He handled it from there.

They had to get me out of there,
my blood pressure was rising.
[videogame music]

What did Mr. Collazo do
when he got there?

He talked to the police,

to the security people...
[videogame music]

He organized everything.

Roman!

Come here, champ.

Come here.

If you stop making noise
with that thing,

I'll give you the other half
when you leave.

Nurit: Have you noticed any changes
in the house lately?

Not that I'm aware of.

Furniture in a different place

or any objects missing...?

Did you see the small table
in his studio?

The one by the record player?

Yes.

There's an empty picture frame.

You mean the silver one?

-It's been empty for a while.
-Do you remember the photo?

Yes. Mr. Chazarreta with his friends
when they were young.

Why did Chazarreta remove the photo?

I don't think he did.

He came home furious one day

and made me search everywhere
for that photo.

Excuse me, Mariano, sir.

I have to go now.

I said I'd give her a ride
to work nearby.

Okay.

Do you remember when the photo
was removed?

Yes, in September of last year.
The first day of spring.

It was Romancito's birthday.

I got home so late that day

my husband almost killed me.
They were waiting to cut the cake.

-Thank you.
-You're welcome.

-Goodbye.
-Bye.

Child control system?

Works every time, Betibú.

Do you mind me calling you
Betibú?

No, no. It's not the name,
it's how I got it.

How did you get it?

Rinaldi gave it to me

a while back and it stuck.

He says that?

Yes.

It doesn't suit me, I know.
Why?

No reason.

Nurit's voice: The night Chazarreta
was killed

his attic became a silent witness
to his murder.

A half-open drawer,

an empty picture frame,

or a missing book...

Dissonant elements
that break an order.

Are there any clues
of the crime here?

Or are we the ones who need
to make sense out of it?

We're always looking for signs
where there are only simple objects.

[TV]

I hope it's important.

It's Mariano.
You weren't asleep, were you?

Like a log.

Sorry.

I need Chazarreta's brother's
phone number. Have you got it?

[screams from tv]

Brena.

Brena.

[music from tv]

He's coming back.

Remember, I ask the questions.

These people don't like talking
to the media.

They need to be softened up.

Want something strong to drink?

No, thank you.

-What were we talking about?
-Your brother.

My brother, right.

My brother was a son of a bitch.

-Any special reason?
-In general.

He liked fucking people over.
His favorite thing to do.

That's how he was.
The last thing he did

was sell La Chacrita
just to piss me off.

La Chacrita?

Did you see the gate down there
with the big arch? That's it.

Why just to piss you off?

Ever since he inherited it,

I tried to buy it from him
and he always refused.

I would never have let someone
outside the family buy it.

But he ended up selling it
to a Gandolfini for a ton of cash.

I can't get it back now.
Son of a bitch.

-Have you got siblings?
-No.

Then you don't understand.
You?

Five, but there's nothing to split.

Who's Gandolfini?

What were their names?
Rosario's kids...

They were always together,
kind of weird...

Ariel...

Arturo. Arturo Gandolfini.

Have you got his number?

In the house.
I'll give it to you.

Do you know Luis Collazo?

Another son of a bitch.

Always with Pedro,
ever since the Furies.

The Furies?

My brother made it up
when they were students.

Some sort of vigilante group
with moral and ethical pretensions.

Very fashionable back then.

Really just a bunch of thugs
who wanted to harass the students.

Sadists with imagination.

Real motherfuckers.

[keyboard clics]

friend: Your son and his friends.

Will they show up at our house
out of the blue again?

-Our house?
-What nerve!

-They're unbelievable.
-Bad girls.

I came here so you can get some sun
and you stop ostracizing yourself

[cell ringing]
and look how you treat me.

Pass me the phone.

-The pinhead.
-Give it to me.

-Where are you going?
-To talk.

Talk here, your friends
will keep you in line.

-It's work.
-Exactly, talk in front of us.

Hi, Lorenzo.

-Lorenzo: Hi. How are you?
-He hurt you.

Fine, great.

I just read your new column.
I love it.

That's great, I'm glad.

Let's have lunch together.

-No.
-Why not?

I'm trying to get some work done...

I know a restaurant
with the best lasagna ever.

We owe it to ourselves.
I'll pick you up.

-What time?
-One o'clock?

-Okay, I'll be here.
-Great, bye.

We're screwed.

I have a good feeling
about our coverage.

So far your work has been excellent.

I'm glad.

Your writing still surprises me,
you haven't lost your touch.

And Mariano's still a bit green,
but he's doing well, right?

What did Brena do
that was so bad?

He's a big mouth.

He was good at what he did,
but the years have taken their toll.

I had no choice.

I need enthusiastic young people
who want to grow, like Mariano.

They want to grow,
but earn 5 times less.

There's also the ecological
point of view.

Everything is a cycle.

Some leave, others come in.
Some suffer, others enjoy life.

Like us.

Remember what a good time we had?

How is your wife?

Fine.

Marisa is fine.

[busy signal]

It's out of order.

The intercom,
what a great invention.

Wait, Brena.
I'm looking for a number.

Keep looking.

[car alarm beep]

Brena: I bet Fat Marchi loved you
using that gadget all the time.

Mariano: Fat Marchi?

Who's Fat Marchi?

A journalist from Cordoba
and you don't know him?

I never worked in Cordoba.

I finished school,
did a master's in London,

worked in Barcelona
and I just got back.

You never covered crime before?

No.

I told Rinaldi I was better
qualified for other sections,

but he insisted.

What?

[dogs barking]

Run! Run!

[dogs barking]

Did you write another
crime novel?

No.

I assumed you would after...

"Only if you Love me" got such
bad reviews and sold so few copies.

No, there's no next novel.

Why not?

I quit writing.

You? I don't believe it.

Can I make a confession?

I never understood why
we stopped seeing each other

after that trip. I understand
the situation, my wife...

But we both were aware of it.

And we enjoyed being with
each other. We had fun, right?

Yes, we had fun.

Besides, that trip was special.

Remember the last night
on the balcony?

-Yes.
-I remember we said

that we could die happy,
satisfied with life.

Remember?

I said I could die that night.
You were having fun

thinking about
the next day's headlines:

"Tribune's new director
found dead with his lover

-in a hotel in Patagonia."
-You're bad.

No.

I have a good memory.

You're charming.

I won't let you suddenly
disappear again, Betibú.

Disappear from where?

You always liked making things
hard on me.

It's fine, I like it.

I've been thinking about you
for a while.

Did you know I had surgery
last month?

No.

Something bad?

No, nothing bad.
I got out last week.

Prostate.

Listen...

I booked a suite in a beautiful,
discreet hotel nearby.

Want to try it out, Betibú?

Try what out?

What do you think?

No, Lorenzo. You know what?
I thought about it.

Try it out with your wife.

After so many years,
who knows you better?

Know what he said?
"What a shame, Betibú.

We would have had fun.
You playing nurse to my Lorencito."

You're kidding.
He didn't say that.

He's a son of a bitch!

What about me?

Gambling everything on a situation
that only made me feel stupid.

And it wasn't just a drunk weekend.
It was two years.

Two years!

You weren't wrong to gamble, honey.

You just bet all your chips
on a shitty number.

How awful.

Do you realize that before

we only had to put up with surgery
on a meniscus, a kneecap...

A hernia,

maybe...

But not this. Not a prostate!

You two are horrible!

[TV] The madman with the rifle
is accused of killing 14 people

on this same campus.

We repeat,

only moments ago
on a campus in Florida

a shooting has left one dead
and two injured.

Police suspect the madman...

They said it's the same guy. He just
got out and randomly kills people.

Americans...

Police are still looking
for the suspect

and have surrounded the university.

Tensions are high and the students
remain inside the buildings.

Yeah?

-What?
-You wanted to tell me something?

No.

I thought...
Can I tell you something?

I really like your nose.

It's like a drawing of a Greek jar.
Nobody's ever told you

that you had a Greek profile?

I'll let you work.

Hi, I'm a reporter from the Tribune,
looking for Arturo Gandolfini.

CHAZARRETA PREPARES FOR TRIAL

LA RURAL OPENED WITH PROMISES

THE FURIES (MYTHOLOGY)

The Furies in Roman mythology

were female characters
who chased down criminals.

Brena: Another one.

Marcos Miranda.

Santome: Brena, stop screwing around
and use a computer.

You made it here without a GPS.

Here. Nurit sent her latest
report and a photo.

-You can't see shit.
-Yeah, I know.

After we go to press
I'll see if I can improve it.

Santome: Miranda, Marcos.

Bring it back to me in order.

The day you retire this place
will turn into a cemetery.

"Retired military officer
killed in hunting accident."

Keep reading.

"Retired military officer
Marcos Miranda

was killed after accidentally
firing his rifle

while hunting wild boar
at a game reserve in Zapala."

"The hunter was alone

at the time of the accident

and when they found his body
he'd been dead for over 11 hours."

[gunshot]

Brena's voice: Marcos Miranda,
retired Lieutenant General,

personal friend of Collazo
and Chazarreta,

godfather at both their weddings,

Collazo and Chazarreta's
main government contact.

-When did this happen?
-Brena: Two months ago.

Nurit's voice: If the dead could speak,
there would be more justice in the world.

We wouldn't have to try to interpret
the signs they leave us.

We'd simply listen
to what they have to tell us.

But the dead don't always want
their truth to be known.

If Chazarreta's ghost
appeared today before us,

would he tell us who killed him?

Or would he rather keep quiet?

[tense music]

[camera clics]

man: Ma'am.

Hi.

What are you doing?

I was taking a photo.

There was a blackbird in the window,
but it flew away.

You can't take photos
without authorization.

I didn't know.
With so many birds...

I need authorization to photograph
nature? I'll get right on that.

It's club policy, ma'am.

All right, dear.
I won't argue with you today.

You're from the Tribune, right?

-Mariano Saravia.
-Gandolfini, pleasure.

Brena.

Sorry to make you come here,
I had a last minute meeting.

I only have a few seconds.
Why are you looking for Arturo?

You're not Arturo Gandolfini?

No, I'm Roberto, his brother.
My son didn't tell you on Facebook?

No, your son never answered me.

That's why I thought you were Arturo
when you called.

Teenagers.
What do you need him for?

To ask him a few questions
about Chazarreta.

What's my brother
got to do with him?

We know they had a real estate
transaction not long ago.

Yes, he bought La Chacrita.
Please, come with me.

We'd like to speak to him.

I think there's a misunderstanding.

My brother died last year.

You think my brother had something
to do with Chazarreta's death?

Not directly.

We're sorry, we didn't know
your brother was dead.

He bought a property
from Chazarreta

at quite a high price
and we'd like to know why.

I can tell you that,
my sister-in-law insisted.

Some husbands buy their wives
a shop in Palermo,

others an NGO.
My brother,

a house in the country.

She wanted to live out of town
and he bought Chazarreta off.

Excuse me, this is going up.

Ask my secretary for an appointment
anytime. Excuse me.

[doorbell]

Look.

I'll explain after.

Gato: Who are you with?

A co-worker, Gato.
I want you to meet him.

How long have you known him?

No, he's new.

Who recommended him?

How should I know?
Stop screwing around and open up.

[buzzer]

It was hard to find, eh?

You want a bill?

-Bill the Tribune, as usual.
-Right.

Brena: Have you been cleaning up?

- Gato: Don't piss me off.
-Brena: Okay.

Hold on...

-What?
-Cell phones.

Give me your cell phone.

-What for?
-Give it to me.

He asked for your cell.

Here.

The rectancy.

Look.

-How did you get this?
-Where?

Reporters sell their asses
for two bucks.

Imagine TV people.

You were a reporter,
you did the same thing.

Nonsense.

I have new information
about the Organization.

Tell me where we need to look.

-You're not interested?
-Sure I am.

Why don't you show him
the archive?

I don't trust this guy one bit.
You sure about him?

He's the new head of Crime.

You'll have to work out
the money with him now.

This way, please.

He's going to show you the archive.
Go on, it's great.

This is the most complete archive

on the Organization's secret
activities.

And here are their last movements.

Why are your hands in your pockets?
Can I see them?

I'll explain another
very interesting topic.

Independiente, Palmeiras and River
are dropping to the B league.

Why?

Because they came in last?

No.

No, that's not why.

It's been negotiated.

Negotiated with the real estate
companies.

They're buying up
all the downtown areas

all across Latin America.

The Organization has been
subcontracted to...

Gato!

What's the problem?
I'm coming!

I found it.

-Fast forward a bit.
-With this?

Brena: There it is.

Gato: A gift, huh?

Brena: Chazarreta and Miranda
who are both dead

and Collazo.

That photo doesn't tell me anything.
I'm sorry.

But all I see are five kids playing.

This is the photo that disappeared.

And according to Gladys,

it disappeared on September 21st
or a few days earlier.

We need to find out why
and who took it.

Right?

-What's that look for?
-No...

This is like being inside
one of your novels.

-Are we exaggerating?
-No, not at all.

Real investigations
still aren't that entertaining.

[mysterious music]

Excuse me.

Yeah.

Look.

Nurit: The Argentinean killed
in the U.S. Bengoechea.

A friend of Chazarreta's.

Brena: He'd been living there

since 1980.

Surgeon, single, no children,
and that's all.

Well, we might be missing
something.

We should confirm that
he's in the photo as well.

Our correspondent in Miami
thinks our idea is crazy.

Brena: The FBI has been after
the wacko with the rifle for ages.

He's killed like 11 people.

Bengoechea was in the wrong place
at the wrong time.

I'll let you know
if we find anything.

Thanks, Brena.

You're welcome, Betibú.

What?

all: Thanks, Brena.

What dummies!

woman: Oh!

[gunshots]
[screams]

What are you doing?

Where are you going?

For a walk.

blonde: You're going out
at this hour?

I can't sleep.

Why all the mystery?

I like being in nature.

Oh, God...

Just around the block!

GENERAL URQUIZA MILITARY SCHOOL

[door opens and closes]

[footsteps]

[trunk opens]

[cocks guns]

[tense music]

[door opens and closes]

Nurit: Hello. Good morning.

I have a question.
My uncle just died.

And, well, the last thing
he asked of us before he died

was to make sure his classmates
were all at the ceremony.

The thing is,
we don't have any information...

We don't have anything.
Well, actually, we have...

a photo.

My uncle's name was Marcos Miranda.
He's this one here.

He went to this school,
he was a student.

And these are his classmates.

If I could access the files,
maybe find information, a name...

Norma: No, ma'am.
The files aren't public.

I can't just show them to anyone.

Tomaselli: Here, Norma.
Can you take this to the colonel

-for his signature?
-Yes, sir. Excuse me.

Do you recognize this man
by any chance?

Come with me.

Where are we going?

Don't worry, I think I can help you.

Okay...

Take your time,
I think you'll find his year.

If anyone asks you,
say Major Tomaselli let you in.

Thank you very much.

I'm sorry about your uncle.

Good luck.

Nurit: Chazarreta, Miranda...

and Collazo.

The Furies.

This is Bengoechea...

and this is Gandolfini.

Arturo Gandolfini,
who bought La Chacrita?

Yes.

I can get this in
before we go to press.

Don't burn it yet.

So we go with nothing?

We still don't have anything.

I don't want a pack of lawyers
attacking the paper.

We need to keep working.
Find more.

Dig into their deaths,
talk to their families.

-And Collazo?
-Brena: We need to bait him.

And watch out.

You need to get out of there.

You're sure about Collazo.

You aren't?

I have my doubts.

Nurit: Something doesn't fit.

Our encounter was... strange.

He saw you, he's armed and he lives
300 yards away from where you sleep.

You need to leave right away.

You leave today.

[knock at door]
Come in!

Go with her to get her stuff.

Brena, Gato says it's urgent.
I said you were in a meeting,

but he says it's about Chazarreta.

That otherwise
he'll call Lidijover.

-I'll start with Roberto Gandalfini.
-Yeah...

It'll be fine.

I hate to leave now.

-We were close, I think.
-I don't care.

I can't risk something
happening to you.

The glow is back in your eyes.
I was right.

Right about what?

I knew this would get you
back on track.

You had it all planned.

Yes, of course I did.
I care about you.

I know you. Not like that schmuck
publisher of yours.

My publisher? What's Carlos
have to do with this?

Well, he obviously wasn't doing
his job well.

I told him the other day.

When did you talk to Carlos
about me?

I did you a favor, that's all.

Excuse me. Nurit,

we're leaving.

Gato: Come in, come in.

-Who is she? I don't know her.
-Cut the crap.

-Cut the crap?
-Knock it off already.

No, this is mine. No!

This was hard to get,
I'm serious.

I asked for favors,
went out of my way. Seriously.

Go ahead.

Gato: Look closely.
Take a good look.

-What?
-What, what?

Who is it?

You don't recognize him?
It's Chazarreta.

-I know that.
-Look closely...

Chazarreta at River Stadium
on the day...

-Let's go.
-Wait a second.

What?

Look closely, I'm showing you
something informative here.

He's angry. Why? Because River
got sent down to the B league.

The Organization...

Call Lidijover,
he'll be interested.

Listen, I know I exaggerate
a little sometimes.

You think I don't know that?

Sometimes I screw up, right?

But I'm in danger here.

I'm being followed.
I'm serious.

No, I'm not paranoid.

There are people out there waiting
for me. Following my every move...

-How much?
-Five thousand.

-One, two, how about 200?
-Okay.

Here.

Thanks.

Where did you get this?

Brena: The original went missing
from Chazarreta's house.

They're all dead except Collazo.

Roberto: You think he
might have done it?

Being the only survivor
doesn't help.

Have you ever thought your brother
might have been killed?

My brother committed suicide.

Nurit: Actually we're trying
to find something

that links them all to the present.

I'd really like to help,
but Arturo and I

had no contact with them
after junior high school.

Only the purchase of La Chacrita.

-Only that.
-You and your brother

weren't friends with them.

No. Well, my brother
went to school

with all of them, but they never
hung out. I was younger.

So Arturo was never a part
of the Furies.

The Furies?

Brena: Ring a bell?

Yes, but I hadn't heard about them
in ages.

No, my brother had nothing
to do with them.

Roberto: They weren't normal boys.

The truth is, when I heard
Chazarreta killed his wife,

I wasn't surprised.
He and Collazo were the worst.

Have you any idea
who might have taken it?

It could have been any kid,
even me.

I hung around my brother
a lot back then,

but honestly I don't remember.

Nurit's voice: The case is still open,
but tonight I had to leave La Maravillosa.

I'm going home with more questions
than answers.

Sometimes the closer we think
we are to the truth,

the farther away we are from it.

[police siren]

Isn't that Collazo's wife?

[tense music]

Venturini didn't listen to me.

Let's go.

Thank you, sir.

You're welcome, Betibú.

Anyway...

-Will you be okay?
-Yeah.

After a hot bath and a whisky,
I'll be fine.

-Bye.
-Bye.

How lucky...

-Hi.
-Nurit: Thanks.

[tv in background]

Hi.

son: Hi, Mom.

-Hi.
-Hi.

We had a blackout so we brought
the meeting here. Do you mind?

The meeting?

What are you doing here?

It's TV night, but look.
[doorbell]

son: Mom, it's for you.

It happened again.

Have you got the photo handy?

Yes.

Let's see... Hold on.

Mariano: See? Right there.

Yeah, it's the same one.

Wait.

-Are you sure?
-Yeah.

-Right?
-Yeah.

Here.

So you won't get dirty.

Here.

How many?

Put them all in there,
these dogs are nervous.

[dogs barking]

Brena!

-Open the door!
-Hurry!

Careful...

Open this side.

♪ ♪

Nurit: Hi!

-Nurit: How are you?
-Brena: Good morning.

We're reporters from the Tribune

and we'd like to talk
to Mrs. Gandolfini.

We have a photo
in which your husband appears

and we'd like you to see it.

Vinicio!

Go ahead.

Thank you.

This is the photo.

This is where it was taken.

Had you ever seen the photo?

No.

Vinicio found him here.

And what happened?

Last year my husband came home
and said he'd bought this property

and we moved in the next day.

That same night

he lit the place on fire

and hung himself from that beam.

What day was that?

September 22nd.

Why do you think
he decided to do that?

Ma'am...

We don't want to upset you.
We'll leave if you like.

Mariano: But if you remember anything,
it could be important.

Nurit's voice:
This will be my last column.

I won't be writing anymore
about the Chazarreta case

or the mystery surrounding
his death.

Sometimes reality generates
questions with answers

we can only find in our imagination.

That's why I'm going back
to fiction.

And I'm doing it with a tale

about two brothers,
a photograph

and a pact of silence
broken 40 years later

in the same place
where it all began.

♪ ♪

[indistinct voices]

boy: Come on, take it!

[camera click]

Pedro: The thing is, people here
have made up their minds.

They think they know the truth.

It's a very Argentinean trait.

They're not interested
in knowing what happened.

They only want to adjust
what happened to their own truth.

Nurit's voice: When the older brother saw
that photograph on display like a trophy,

he felt the precarious balance

built over the years
had been broken forever.

That's when he decided.

The first thing he did
was buy the place.

Getting the money was no problem.

The hard part was facing one of them
without reacting,

without tipping off his plan.

He followed every step of his plan
like an automaton.

But it wasn't him anymore,
it was someone else in his body.

Barely a witness to his own actions.

He arrived in the country
with his wife.

He gave her no explanation.

And she didn't ask for one.

He only left two envelopes,

one for her and another
for his brother.

There was not a single word
in the envelope.

The younger brother
didn't need them.

boy: Come on, take it!

all: Arturito, Arturito!

-What are you doing?
-Arturito!

boy 2: Never punch me in
the face again, shithead!

You faggot!

Faggot!

Look at those legs!

Take him back there.

Hold him down!

-Faggot!
-Hold him down.

Don't cry, don't cry...

You like it?

Nurit's voice: For the first time
in many years,

the younger brother felt free.

Now he was going to do
what he didn't dare back then.

He had the means he needed
to not have to do it himself.

Someone put him in touch with
an organization

that would handle everything.

They had to be arbitrary,
unconnected deaths

that would never raise suspicion.

They died one by one.

[gunshot]

[gunshot]

[screams]

The job was completed
in a few months' time.

They left no trail or witnesses.

The younger brother thinks
that everything is finally over.

He'd like to talk to his brother,

tell him what he did for him,

for both of them.

But something still troubles him.

He still doesn't know what it is.

He might never know.

Congratulations, your power
of observation is remarkable.

The ending is a bit moralistic.

The part about revenge
making no sense.

But the question you raise there
isn't bad.

What question?

What's the point of an act
of justice with no witnesses?

I was going to burn it

but you changed my mind.

Some day I'll have to tell my son

who these sons of bitches
I had to kill were.

And you...

What's your plan?

They'll come after you
with everything they've got.

Who are they?

Don't play dumb.

You called them the Organization.

The meeting with the woman
in the suit...

is a bit of a stereotype,

but that's basically
how it works.

It's the oldest equation
in the world.

Someone with a need,

someone with the possibility
to satisfy it, and between them,

a simple financial transaction.

If it's any help, I also...

would like to believe you have
a chance to publish all this.

Yes, for people to know
what my brother had to go through.

But I won't get my hopes up.

What's above us is untouchable.

Don't worry. Tomorrow everyone
will know your brother's story.

Of course, you still don't
understand what you're up against.

It makes sense,
it's too much for one chat.

Isn't it a little late
to threaten us?

I can already imagine
tomorrow's headlines:

"Experienced crime reporter

dies in his bed
of cardiac arrest."

Who would ever notice
a man like you

having a sudden heart attack?

"Argentinean Literature's Dark Lady
suffers a Tragic Accident.

A compulsive reader, she opens
the elevator door distracted...

and falls to her death."

How does that sound?

Car accidents,

absurd deaths
in violent robberies...

This city generously provides

different ways to die
that nobody will suspect.

[elevator door]

Pay Gato a visit.

See if he has anything
we can use.

I'll go and see Venturini
and see what he says.

I'll drop you off
at the paper on the way.

Tell Rinaldi to hold the presses
for us.

We have to print something today.

♪ ♪

[doorbell]

Gato!

Is he alone?

He's downstairs
in the printing room.

[tires screeching]

If you're here to say goodbye,

I can order champagne.
How about it?

Save the money, chief.

I'll leave retirement to the brave.
Free time is poison to me.

Are you here to bust my balls?

What progress have you made
on the Chazarreta case?

I just confirmed,
it's all under control. Three kids

from a slum near La Maravillosa
robbed other houses

and Chazarreta was unlucky
to be awake at dawn.

That's what happened.

I just interviewed
Roberto Gandolfini.

Do you know him?

Gato!

[tense music]

What else did this Gandolfini
tell you?

Not much.

Can you come with me, please?

Come on.

[tense music]

[banging on door]

Coming in?

-What floor?
-The basement.

Chief: They already confessed.
We're waiting for the judge's order.

Are they the ones who accidentally
crashed into Collazo

or are you looking
for other patsies for that?

[elevator stops]

It'll only be a second.

[tense music]

It's been breaking down
all afternoon.

We still haven't found the problem.

We're modernizing the whole paper.
All these machines...

Excuse me for a second.

Everything okay?

I don't know.

Of course it's front page.
Push it back half an hour.

They'll send it when it's ready.
All set.

I'll talk to the lawyers
to cover our backs.

Thanks, Lorenzo.

Pass it straight to Layout.
I'll see you there. Go on, hurry.

Gato, where are you?
Pick up the damn phone!

CHAZARRETA MURDER
CONNECTED TO 4 STRANGE DEATHS

Okay...

-What now?
-We have to wait.
[motorcycle]

Watch out!

Are you okay?

Yeah.

I need something strong somewhere
with a lot of people around.

I know a good place.

Let's go.

Come on.

[phone ringing]

Hi, it's Karina.
Leave a message, thanks.

Hi, Karina.

Too bad, I can't find you.

It's Mariano,
the guy with the Greek nose.

We aren't exaggerating
with all this, are we?

Mariano: Well, if you're awake
and feel like a drink...

[phone ringing]

Yes?

-phone: Rinaldi. Know who this is?
-Yes.

-We need the favor you owe us.
-I'm listening.

[newspaper presses]

[jazz music]

You want to hear the true story
behind your nickname, Betibú?

You were releasing your book,
"A Slow Death."

And I was madly in love with you.

As a writer, you know what I mean.

You had given an interview

in a magazine,
I don't remember which.

And the magazine with your photo
was on my desk for a long time.

I was writing an article
and I was stuck on a word.

And I looked right at your photo
and said, "Tell me, Betibú."

It just suddenly came out,
without thinking about it.

What's the word
when a king has to quit?

And the word came to me,
like you'd whispered it to me.

"Abdicate."

Seriously.

So I cut out your photo and stuck
it on the base of my computer.

And whenever I had a doubt,
or when I have one,

I always turn to you.

-What a nice story.
-Isn't it?

But I saw Clemente's cartoon
on your desk.

One day Rinaldi caught me
talking to the photo.

So we started talking about
you and your novel

and...

Well, eventually I found out
you two were involved...

so I put you away
and replaced you with Clemente.

He has less vocabulary,
but he helps.

[jazz music]

Well?

Aren't you going to ask me
to dance?

[jazz music]

What have we got?

Two kids. They stole the day's fares
and the passenger's briefcase.

He didn't even put up a fight.

They shot him and took off.

[phone ringing]

-Yes?
-voice: Well?

It went fine.
He won't be talking anymore.

♪♪