All language subtitles for th bi ri pluma

THE BIRD WITH THE
CRYSTAL PLUMAGE

SANDRA ROVERSI, 18 YEARS OLD,

MEETING BETWEEN VIA DEI MIRTI
AND VIA BELGRADO, 12 OCTOBER

MYSTERIOUS HOMICIDE
OF A YOUNG WOMAN

THE THIRD IN A MONTH

Il Giorno, please.
Thank you. Bye.

The usual garbage.

- Come on, Carlo. It's late.
- Relax, he'll wait.

Your study has been a great success with
the experts. They've already published it.

Isn't that exciting?

Sam Dalmas,

great hope of American literature,
now writing manuals

on the preservation of rare birds.

Be funny if I won a prize for it.

- How's Giulia?
- Fine.

She's been away a month working
for a fashion magazine.

I think she'll be back tonight.

- Do you still love her?
- Yes. More and more.

I'm taking her to New York with me,
day after tomorrow.

- Really serious, eh?
- WILKINSON FOUNDATION

- Good morning, Professor.
- Good morning.

The first thing I'll do when I get home
is to look up a friend and thank him.

I was in a rough period.
I hadn't written a sentence in months.

"Go to Italy," he said, waxing poetic.

"You need peace and tranquillity.
It's your country.

"The country of poetry.
In Italy nothing happens."

May he burn in hell!

Me too for listening to him.
He convinced me.

I traveled around the country.
I saw every monument.

Then spaghetti, wine, the air of Rome.
Great!

But I didn't recover from my crisis.
And now I'm dead broke.

Wouldn't even have the plane fare home
if you hadn't come along with this job.

Which you carried out beautifully.

- Here's your check, Mr. Dalmas.
- Thank you.

Hey, Sam! Don't you want a copy?

I don't need it. I have this.

Hey, open the door! The door!

Come on, open the door!

I can't get in.

Come on, hang on!

Come on.

Call the police!

The police!

I called the police.

Help me.

Her pulse is weak, but it doesn't appear
to be too serious.

She hasn't lost too much blood.

OK, go ahead. Proceed.

- Yes, sir.
- Check for fingerprints.

Good evening.
I'm Inspector Morosini.

- Tell me about it.
- What's that?

What happened? I want to know
everything you saw and heard.

How is she?

She'll be fine, thanks to you.

- And what's your name?
- Sam Dalmas.

- Are you English?
- No, American.

I was on my way home
and as I walked by I saw the lights on.

I looked up and saw these two figures.
The woman and someone else.

Put her down carefully.

She needs a blood transfusion immediately.

Let me through!
I'm the owner of the gallery.

- Monica!
- You see...

Oh my God.

- What happened?
- Leave her alone. Go now.

- Is it bad?
- No, nothing serious, just a flesh wound.

Come along now.

Let go of me!
I'm Alberto Ranieri, her husband.

Calm down, it's not bad.

- Excuse me.
- Monica, talk to me.

- What happened?
- Please, you're tiring her.

Monica, my dear. What happened? What?

We don't know.
I hope your wife will be able to tell us.

By the way, what was she doing
in the gallery at this time of night?

She was going through the books and...

I was supposed to pick her up.

Monica!

Stand back! Let the stretcher through!

Please, stand back.

So, where were we?

There was something wrong with that scene.

It's just an impression.

I can't pin it down, but I have a definite
feeling that something didn't fit.

Concentrate. Try to remember.

I've tried, but it's not coming to me.

Let's see if I can help.

You saw someone
run through this door, right?

Yes, but it was so dark under here.
The door was almost...

Don't touch anything.

Try keeping your hands in your pockets,
like us.

It's the only way
not to leave fingerprints.

It will save us a lot of work.

On the mezzanine, there is
a sculpture of a warrior,

a bronze on the wall,
some sort of petrified tree branch.

On the first floor,
an irregular trail of blood goes

from the service door
to about three meters

from the front window.

Apart from the blood,
there is no other sign of struggle.

So, according to you,
he came down these stairs.

Not "according to me."
He did.

In all, 12 meters...

Let's measure from the window to the stairs.

Blood.

I've had it! I can't take any more!

We've been through
the whole thing six times.

I've already told you all I know.
Every single detail.

I don't know that woman.
I'd never seen her before.

OK, let's start over again.
Let's try to remember.

Describe this strange figure
you say you saw running away.

I told you. It was dark.

I was too far away.
I just saw two silhouettes.

Look, I'm tired.

I'm leaving for the United States
the day after tomorrow.

I have a million things to do.

- Really? Are all your documents ready?
- Yes.

- Do you have your passport on you?
- Yes.

May I see it, please?

Of course.

Thank you.

- Hey.
- What?

- My passport.
- We'll keep it here for now.

You must be joking!
I can't leave without it!

You won't be leaving.
You are too important to us as a witness.

You said yourself that you saw
something vital that you don't recall.

Until this is all cleared up,
you stay here.

What do you mean, "stay here"?

You may not know, Mr. Dalmas,
but in our city, during the past month,

there have been
three unexplained murders.

The victim in each case was a woman.

All committed
without any apparent motive whatsoever.

It is quite clear to us that
there is a dangerous maniac at large.

But what makes our investigation
particularly difficult,

and why we need your cooperation,

is that we are fairly certain that this man is,
as far as his appearance goes,

quite sane.

In his daily life, he is a normal person
who behaves like anybody else...

even like you.

- Me?
- Yes, you. Why not?

Let's suppose that you are the maniac.

You went in the gallery.
You attacked the woman.

And then, when you tried to escape,

you were accidentally trapped
between the glass doors.

You're out of your mind!

You can't just grab a foreign citizen
and accuse him of murder.

Nobody's accusing you.

Giving me the third degree. It's illegal.
I want to call the consulate.

Go ahead.
Call anyone you want.

Even the President of the United States.

A tough nut, eh?

- Just humor him.
- Here's a copy of Monti's report.

TWA?

I want to cancel a reservation.

Sam Dalmas.

Flight 121 to New York,
the day after tomorrow.

Yeah, thank you.

Watch out!

Are you hurt? Can I help you?

No, don't worry. I'm OK. Thank you.

Sam!

This is how you show up after a month?
You look awful.

- Hey! Aren't you coming to bed?
- Yeah.

Hard day at work, honey?

No.

It's only that...

in the span of a few hours,
I witnessed an attempted murder...

the police gave me the third degree.

They withdrew my passport
so we can't leave any more...

and, finally...

someone almost beheaded me with an ax.

You know...
the usual routine.

Of course.
And now tell me what really happened.

It might sound strange,
but it is what really happened.

Bring in the perverts.

Take a good look, Mr. Dalmas.

The murderer could have gone back to
the gallery to see if the woman was dead,

and seeing you had witnessed the murder,
he assaulted you.

And we can't rule out the possibility
that he is a pervert.

Aldo Sarti, 42 years old, eight convictions,
sadomasochist.

Sandro Lorrani, 31 years old,
exhibitionist, eight convictions.

Mario Zandri,
66 years old, sodomite.

Giacomo Rossi,

50 years old, three sentences
for corrupting the morals of minors.

Rubatelli, Luigi, alias Ursula Andress,

- 26 years old...
- No! Petrini!

Yes, sir?

What's he doing here?
How many times do I have to tell you?

Ursula Andress belongs
with the transvestites, not the perverts.

I should say so!
Put me with these pigs!

Come with me, Mr. Dalmas.
I have something interesting to show you.

We have subjected this glove
to a thorough microscopic examination,

and have managed to come up
with a few interesting facts.

The blood stains are of the same group
as Monica Ranieri's,

from which we can gather that the aggressor
was wearing it during the attack.

See these grains? They're tobacco ash,
proving that he smokes expensive cigars.

The traces of tobacco
his fingers left on the glove

are characteristic of Havana cigars.

Now look at this.

It was our most exciting discovery.

Microscopic particles of a cashmere
made only in England.

We found it inside.

What it amounts to is this.

We now know with certainty
that he is a man who smokes cigars,

who dresses elegantly
and who is, above all, left-handed.

We deduced this from the wear
on the glove.

Then we put the glove
under further tests

and processed all data in the computer.
Are the files here?

- All ready.
- Come and see.

This is the outline of the aggressor,

reconstructed with 90% accuracy.

And this is the first reliable personal data
about him.

The same data could fit
about 150,000 people in this city.

MALE - APPROX. 40 YEARS -
HEIGHT 1 .80-1.85 METERS
THIN - BROWN HAIR - 75 KG

Of those, most of the them
are already in jail.

CHARACTERISTICS REFERRING
TO THE FOLLOWING FELONS

Well, what are you waiting for?

Do you think it's easy
to check the alibis of 150,000 people?

Look, I have nothing to go on.
It's just a hunch.

But I'm convinced that you really did see
the murderer's face that night.

But I've already told you I didn't.

Try to concentrate, Mr. Dalmas.
Try to remember what you saw.

It's no use.

I've run through it over and over again.

I can't get it out of my head,
but I can't pin it down either.

Monica Ranieri has left the hospital.

She's back at her house...

number 35 Via Bruxelles.

Can I go now?

- Which floor?
- Fifth.

I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Dalmas,
but my wife can't receive anyone.

She's in bed under sedation
at the moment.

I'm sure you understand.
After all she's been through.

What did you want to talk about
with her?

Nothing special, really.

I just wanted to recall that night.

I might have seen something
that could lead to the arrest of the killer.

But I don't really remember it,

and so I thought that
your wife might help me out.

My wife has already told the police
everything she knows.

I can see no reason for subjecting her
to that ordeal again.

I understand.

May I ask you an irrelevant question?

- If you want.
- How tall are you?

One meter 82, I think. Why?

Nothing.
I was just curious.

- Do you need anything else?
- No.

No, and sorry for the inconvenience.

Are you looking for your cigarettes?
Here they are.

Good-bye, Mr. Ranieri.

I told you to bet on that horse.

Yes, I know.
Still, you can't win all the time.

First victim.

Salesgirl in an antique shop.
She left at the same time every evening.

- Found dead in a park.
- A park?

It was a mile and a half from the shop
in the opposite direction from her house.

- Two questions.
- What?

Why so far away? And why in a park?

Maybe she was going to meet a boyfriend.

Second victim. A prostitute.

Murdered under the bridge
where she used to go with her customers.

They suspected her pimp,
someone by the name of Garullo.

But he had a cast iron alibi.

Where can I find him?

You can't.

He's in jail,
or at least he was a month ago.

Good.

- OK, number three.
- Number three.

- A student.
- Student.

She was killed on her way home
from the movies.

Movies?

OK?
And now?

I'll start with the first one,
the antiques salesgirl.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Can I help you?
- Yes, please.

I see that you like china.
You have good taste.

These pieces are wonderful.

Rare examples.

- I see. How much is this one?
- 300,000 lira.

If you are interested,
we can come to an agreement.

Isn't this the shop
where that girl worked?

- Excuse me?
- The girl that was murdered.

Poor girl.

What a horrible way to die.

- What was she like?
- Very pretty.

But she was...
a little unusual, you know?

People used to say
that she preferred women.

Not that I cared.
I'm not a racist, for heaven's sake.

I remember that night as if it were yesterday.

We hadn't made a sale all day.

Then, just before we closed
we sold a painting that was in the window.

Did you sell it yourself?

No, I didn't, the girl did.
I was checking the books.

And then
she left without even saying good night.

Soon after...
she was found dead.

What kind of painting was it?

It was a strange primitive painting...
very macabre, too.

- Would you like to see it?
- Do you still have it?

No, I only have a picture for the archive.

Certainly.
I would like to see it.

I'll show it to you.

Here it is.

- Could I borrow this?
- Oh, no. We don't normally allow that.

Hey. What's wrong?

Nothing.

What is it?

The picture of a painting
strangely related to those murders.

Looks a bit perverted to me.

Do you think so?

Oh, honey.

It gives me the chills.

Look.
Something wrong?

No, nothing.
Good night.

No...

Tell me, is it really necessary?

- What?
- Running around playing detective.

Isn't it slightly ridiculous?
And dangerous, too?

Thank you.

Besides, I have a feeling I'm closer
to the truth than either of us realizes.

What's happening to me?
It's become an obsession.

- Who is it?
- Morosini.

Hi.

- How are you doing?
- Fine. Come in.

For a minute there
I thought I had the wrong address.

- Nobody else lives in this building?
- No.

They'll tear it down soon.

My lease runs out next week
so they let me stay.

- A cup of coffee?
- Yes, please.

It's exactly what I need.
I had a terrible night.

- Here.
- Thank you.

What happened last night?

Here.

- When?
- Last night.

A 28-year-old woman who lived alone.

The usual blank wall.

Not a single clue. No traces.

The newspapers too are starting to think

that the four homicides are related.

Giulia, this is Inspector Morosini.

Pleased to meet you.
Pardon me.

But haven't we met before?

- No, I'm sure we have not.
- Hey, look at this.

Oh God.

As you may have suspected,
I came here so early

for a particular reason, Mr. Dalmas.

I would like to show you
some pieces of evidence I collected.

- Why don't you just leave him alone?
- No, Giulia.

- Calm down.
- No, I won't!

He isn't even Italian,
and you put his life at stake.

Somebody already tried to kill him once.

What makes you think they won't try again?

You're blackmailing him.

You won't give him his passport back,

and you're taking advantage
of his human instincts.

Shall we go?

- Sorry.
- Bye.

I'm sorry.

OK. Fine.

- So?
- Nothing. I went over and over it.

Nothing at all.

I saw them fight on the loft.
I can still see it.

I can't think of anything else.
But I know there's something.

Thank you.

What are you going to do now?

I think I'll stick around for a while.

Do you need any help
for your investigation?

- I thought I was being followed.
- Oh, yes,

but that's only to protect you.

I would like to speak with the pimp
of the second victim.

- That Garullo.
- Oh, that's easy.

Inspector, they've arrived
for the TV interview.

Let's go and make fools of ourselves
in front of millions of people.

What will you say?

I don't know. I'll make up some spectacular
lie and some sage advice.

And all our forces are alerted.
This is the situation.

For the moment, I can only add
that we have certain information

that I am sure will lead us
to the murderer.

I urge all citizens to remain calm

and report anything suspicious
to the police immediately.

Be very cautious and keep your eyes...

You go, and get back to me
as soon as you can.

Yes? Inspector Morosini.

Hello?

I really enjoyed your talk on television.

- Who is this?
- Let me talk.

I'm the person you all
are uselessly looking for.

Record the call on Morosini's direct line.

You haven't got a single clue.
No lead, nothing.

And to prove that your threats
don't scare me, I announce

that you will have another murder
to solve by the end of the week.

The fifth.

Hello?

Keep it straight.

It's very heavy.

It's one of the best examples
of cosmic sculpture.

The aggression did not intimidate us.
In a couple of days

we will open a new show
of sculpture and bass relief.

You'll be changing everything.

Of course.
These sculptures will all be replaced.

- Mr. Ranieri.
- Yes.

Would you please check
the position of this panel?

I'll be right there.

Will you excuse me?
It's been nice to see you again.

My pleasure.

I would like to thank you again
for what you did for me that night.

Without your help,
that madman would have killed me.

My wounds have healed, but...

I live in a state of fear.

- You saved my life.
- Monica, excuse me.

- Come here a moment.
- Thank you.

- Not at all.
- See you soon.

Look, what do you think
of placing it like this?

It's not perfectly straight
but you can see it better from below,

and the points catch more light this way.

Yes, you're right.

Yeah, she was my girl. So long.

Where are you going?

You said "so long."

I always say that.

Otherwise I stutter.

Oh, I understand.

What do you want from me?

I want to find the killer.

Good.

Fair enough. So long.

But I don't have anything to say.

They caught me
three days after her death.

Poor girl.

And here I am in jail.

Those girls have to get along without me.

Who's protecting them with
that monster loose on the streets? So long.

- What are you in jail for?
- For nothing.

I was framed.

They got it in for me. So long.

They say I'm aiding
and abetting prostitution,

but I'm innocent.

Look at me.

Do I look like a pimp?

Honestly...

do I look like someone
who exploits women?

Well, if they buy me presents

- every now and then, I don't say no.
- Sure.

Listen, what can you tell me
about the killer?

One thing I'm sure of,
he is not from my scene.

We don't do things like that.

It must be a gentleman.

Someone with a lot of dough.

They're the ones
who get those kind of ideas.

You see, they have a kind of
code of honor

which, compared to other...

- That man's been following us for an hour.
- Morosini sent him.

He's our bodyguard.

Anyway, that guy, So Long,
has a kind of harem, which is his livelihood.

Taxi!

- Oh, well. I feel like walking.
- Good for you.

So Long has his own philosophy.

He expects everything from women
and nothing from men.

Come on. Run!

Good. I'll deal with it.

Here. Stay here. It's me they want.

As soon as you can, call Morosini.
Don't move.

- Hey, someone is chasing me.
- I don't see anyone.

- There he is!
- Who is he?

Mrs. Johnson! Mrs. Johnson!

Listen, have you seen a man
with a blue cap and a yellow jacket?

- Yes, sir.
- Where did he go?

In there.

That black guy was tough, all right,
but I gave his liver a good working over.

At the tenth round,
I laid him out with a hook.

Laid him out cold.

Hey, listen, guys, it's about time we talked
about the problems we face.

Listen to me!

There is the problem of insurance
and of allowances for permanent injuries.

Come on, listen to me or I'll leave.

First a jab, then a quick hook.

The officer died without
regaining consciousness.

Fractured spine and skull.

Do you think you could recognize him?

It's impossible to forget a face like that.

I want every man at that convention
tracked down.

I don't care where they are.

I want names, pictures,
criminal records, everything.

Go, now...
Wait.

Send two of our top men to cover these two.
They are to be watched night and day.

I'm sorry to have gotten you into this mess.

Take my advice:

Go back to the United States.

Not just now. I feel I'm getting closer
to the truth each minute.

The murderer's obviously
of the same opinion.

And that's why he's trying to stop me.

The more he tries,
the more he risks discovery.

OK, Saturday and Sunday,
we'll go out together.

- I love you.
- I love you, too.

- Bye.
- Bye, love.

What... a son of a bitch!

They wanted to kill you? Goddamn.

Yeah. I have to find him.

Of course I'll help you out, so long.

Wait a minute.

Yes, yes. Got it.

I know the guy for you.

He ain't cheap,
but there's nothing he doesn't know.

It's just between you and me.
Understand? No...

- police. So long.
- Don't worry.

Call the Caramba pool hall
and ask for... Filagna.

Tell him So Long sent you.

An elevator.

- Get an elevator.
- Who are you?

- I'm Filagna.
- Come on in.

Couldn't we have met at the bar downstairs?

I walked up five flights of stairs.
I'm dying.

- Who's that?
- She's a friend. We can talk.

- Sit down.
- No.

Let's get some things straight.
I don't know anything.

I didn't see anything.
And I don't know anybody.

- What do you want to know?
- The other night,

at around 11:00,
a man tried to kill me.

Then he ran away and went inside
the Hotel Palazzo.

What's the matter?

- This place bugged?
- No.

Come on, listen. There was
a boxing convention in that hotel.

- He was wearing...
- Do you want to send him to jail?

Not really. I just want to talk to him.

No way.

100.

100 what?

100,000 lira.

Do you trust him?

Here.

No, I can't.

Ten, twenty, thirty...

- Hey, when will I hear from you?
- Never.

Maybe tomorrow morning.

Hello?

Yes?

Listen to me, Mr. Dalmas.
Take my advice:

Mind your own business.

And stop playing detective.
It could be dangerous.

That was a warning yesterday.
Wasn't it enough?

What do you suggest I do?

Go back to America.
Forget about the murders.

There is a limit to my patience.

Who is this?

- Is your girlfriend there with you?
- Yes.

She is young and very attractive.
Would you like to see her dead?

If you don't stop, I will kill her.

Go back to America.
Forget about the murders.

There is a limit to my patience.

Go back to America.
Forget about the...

Did you hear that squeaking?

I want to know what it is.
What can make such a sound?

- It's all we have to go on.
- I'll find out.

Well...

what are you going to do now?

I don't know.

It was simpler when it was only
my life at stake, but now...

Damn painting!
There's got to be a lead somewhere.

Maybe that woman
looks like the first victim.

It's too roughly drawn.
It could be anybody.

- Hello?
- Filagna here. I couldn't find out anything.

But if you're interested,
there's an ex-fighter named Needles.

Maybe he knows something.

He lives in a shed
on the outskirts of town.

39 Via Angiolieri.

Hello?

Hello?

Anybody home?

Look at the oscilloscope.

To prove that your threats
don't scare me, I announce

that you will have another murder
to solve by the end of the week.

Very well. Now let's hear
the other phone call.

Go back to America.
Forget about the murders.

There is a limit to my patience.

Notice any differences between the tapes?

Sure.

The waves on the first machine
were different from those on the second.

Exactly. See...

every human voice,
no matter how well it's disguised,

has a characteristic pattern of
harmonic intensities in the vowel sounds.

Now when we analyzed the vowel groups
of these two voices,

we found that whereas the first one

reaches level 5 on the lower range
and 12 high,

the second reading goes only
from 4 to 10.

What does that mean?

That the voices don't belong
to the same person.

- Are you sure?
- Absolutely.

That means there are two murderers.

It would seem so.

Unless...

there's only one killer who's trying
to confuse us with an accomplice.

And that would be
the man who tried to kill you.

The one you found murdered.

And now, we'll listen to the sound
you asked us to analyze.

We isolated the sound and compared it
with hundreds of similar sounds.

We've exhausted the field of sounds
produced by industrial machinery,

factories, building sites,
electric doors,

slot machines, domestic appliances...
The lot!

But so far we've been unable to equate it.

So?

All we can do is keep trying.

OK. Thank you.

So, we're back to square one.

What are you going to do?

I'm leaving the day after tomorrow.

I've said that before, haven't I?

Forty pages

of facts, frantic moments.
I rediscovered Fitzgerald.

- The character got me going.
- Glad to hear it.

It's broken me loose.
Pack this one too.

I'm writing frantically again.

And did that thing that was obsessing you
come back to you?

I couldn't remember it.

Listen to this.

This came over the telephone.

It would've been a great lead.

What do you suggest I do?

Go back to America.
Forget about the murders.

There is a limit to my patience.

- Who is this?
- Wait. Play it again.

- ...suggest I do?
- Go back to America.

Forget about the murders.

There is a limit to my patience.

Who is this?

- Is your girlfriend...
- Well?

I don't know.
It reminds me of something.

No, I'm wrong.

What a pity.

Wait.

Stop it.

You know...

- I still can't believe it.
- What?

That we're leaving this evening.

Do you think I'll like it in the States?

- Hey, can I take the tape with me?
- I'm sure I'll like it.

If something new occurs to me...

before you leave, I'll call you.

Bye.

Can you believe it?
These are our last hours in this house.

Do you really love me?

How much time have we got left?

- What?
- Before the plane takes off?

Eight hours.

- That may be just enough.
- Why?

Wait a minute.

What do you want to do now?

Sam!
Who are you calling?

- Hello.
- Hello?

- Is this the antique shop?
- Yes?

This is Sam Dalmas...

the American who wanted the picture
of that primitive painting, remember?

I certainly do.
The painting of the murdered girl.

Exactly.

Listen, could you tell me
the name of the painter?

Certainly. His name is Berto Consalvi.

Could you tell me where I could find him?

Yes. He lives in a small town
not far away.

- About an hour and a half by train.
- What's the name of it?

Aviano.

- Thank you. Thank you very much.
- You're welcome. It's been a pleasure.

An hour and a half. I can just make it.

I must talk to that painter. The first girl
was murdered after selling

a painting of a girl being murdered.
There must be a connection.

I'll be back in four or five hours.

In the meantime, you finish packing.

No need to worry
so long as you don't leave the house.

Two officers are patrolling the entrance.

Lock the door and don't open to anyone.
I love you.

I shouldn't have trusted you.
I'm so stupid!

Bolt the door and
if you need anything, call Morosini.

Ciao.

Thanks for the lift.
It would've been some walk!

You're welcome.

If you take my advice, you'll get out of here.
The man's crazy.

You never know what can happen.

- Thank you for the advice.
- Follow it, then.

If you still want to go in,
don't go crazy looking for the door.

He walled up the whole first floor,
doors, windows, the lot.

There's got to be some way of getting in.

Yes, there is,
but it doesn't mean he'll let you in.

If he doesn't like your face,
he'll leave you in the cold.

Consalvi!

Berto Consalvi!

- What do you want?
- I want to buy one of your paintings.

- What for?
- To hang it on my wall.

- Why did you wall up the door?
- To keep out the busybodies.

This way, nobody gets in unless I want.

But it's none of your business.

Who told you about me?

Nobody. I saw one of your paintings
and liked it.

Which one?

One about a murderer killing a girl.

I don't do that stuff any more.

I'm going through a mystical period.

I only paint mystical scenes.

Why?

Why, Why?

Because I feel mystical!
Do you have a problem with that?

Oh, no. Not at all.

What was your inspiration
for that painting?

Do you want something to eat?

Yes.

It's based on a real story
that happened a long time ago.

- Have something to drink.
- Thanks.

How many years 890?

About ten.

Down in the village,
a maniac assaulted a girl.

He tried to cut her up.

She was rescued just in time...
and he was put in an asylum for life.

That's better.

Hey, you want to buy a painting or not?

Yeah, sure.

Come with me.

You'll love it. Early Consalvi, very rare!

Quick!
Close the window! Quick!

Here you are.

Gotcha.

Goddamn cats!

Beasts!

They always manage to find a hole
to slip out of.

Why do you keep them in cages?

The less they move, the fatter they get.

Why do you want them to get fat?

So I can eat them.

What's the matter?
Don't you like cat?

Well, really...

- I never ate any.
- Never, huh?

This one's decent.

- You can have this one. 200,000 lira.
- No.

- Too much? OK, let's say 150,000.
- Oh, no.

100,000, then.

50,000.

- Hello?
- Are you still mad at me?

Sam, where are you?

Don't worry. I'm coming home.

- How did it go?
- I spoke to him, but I didn't get anywhere.

Listen, it's foggy and the trains
are going slowly. I'll be late.

Oh no! We'll miss the plane.

Don't worry. I'll be back in time.

- Everything OK?
- Yes. Carlo called.

He wanted to talk to you. He said
he found out something interesting.

- What?
- He didn't say.

I told him you'd left me here alone.
He said to call him as soon as you get back.

OK, see you soon. Bye.

Sam!

Sam.

You won't leave this house alive.

Help! Help!

Giulia!

Giulia!

Giulia! Giulia!

Sam?

How do you feel?

Fine. Did they catch him?

No, he ran away.

He must've slipped out
through the cellar or something.

What time is it?

4:00 in the afternoon.

- Really?
- You slept quite a while.

Got a peeping Tom, eh? Sorry.

You were supposed to call me, you know.
I've got news for you.

I forgot about it.
And the phone's out of order.

What did you find out?

I've figured out what
that squeaking sound is.

- It's really weird.
- What is it?

The call of the Hornitus Nevalis.

A beautiful bird with silver plumage
that looks like crystal.

What's so strange about it?

The fact that it can only be found
in the Caucasus Mountains.

- Are you sure?
- Positive.

How about a drink? I've earned one.

In any case, the Nevalis
rarely survives in captivity.

In Italy, only one specimen has survived.

Hey, what are you doing?

Wait a minute.
You mean there's one here?

That's what I'm trying to tell you.

It's practically a miracle
that they're keeping it alive.

- Where is it?
- Where would you keep a rare bird?

At the zoo.

The cage is near the back of the zoo.
Over there.

- There?
- Yes.

They have to keep it isolated.
It can't live with any other animals.

Over there.
But they'll have to move it.

It can't even stand
the smell of other animals.

Ranieri!

He called from his house. Now I remember.
The telephone is next to the window.

No!

Monica!

- Come with me!
- Come on. Let's go!

Open the door!

Step back!

Give me the knife!

- Don't shoot.
- Don't move. There's no way out.

Give yourself up.

What do you want to do?

- No!
- Don't move! Drop the knife.

Drop the knife.

Keep away from me!

Stop!

What's going on?

Where'd he get you?

Giulia, come on!

Help! Pull me up!
Help me!

- I don't want to die!
- I can't!

Help!

No, I don't want to die! Don't let go!

Please!

Save me!

I can't hold on any longer!

Yes, it's true.

I am the killer.

I killed them all.

Look after my wife.

She wanted...

to stop me.

I love her.

Poor devil. I feel sorry for him.

This is Inspector Morosini.
Put me through to Homicide.

Did you see the girl I was with?

She was behind us when we went inside.
Isn't she here?

No.

And you didn't see her after that?
Would you mind?

I didn't pay attention.

Thank you.

Have you seen a girl with long brown hair?

- Yes. A while ago.
- Are you sure?

- Yes.
- Where did she go?

- She ran off that way with two other people.
- Thank you.

His head busted open like a watermelon.

Excuse me.

Have you seen a girl go by
with long brown hair

- and a gray coat?
- Yes, I saw her.

Excuse me. Have you seen a girl
with long brown hair and a gray coat?

Yes, she went in there.

- In that door?
- That's what I said.

Thanks.

- This one here?
- Yes.

Carlo! So it was you!
What have you done to Giulia?

Answer me!

It was you!

Now I remember.

Of course! You were holding the knife!

You were trying to kill your husband
and he was trying to escape.

I can see it clearly now.

Help!

You will die.

You will die.

You must die...

like the others.

Quick, come here!

Here. All together, come on!

Come on.

How are you, Dalmas?

How did you find me?

Giulia.

- Giulia?
- Yes.

She's hurt, but she'll be all right.

And you? Are you OK?

Come on. Let's go.

As Inspector Morosini,

who carried out the investigation,
has already told us,

the curtain has finally been drawn
over this tragic event

that had the whole city frantic.

Monica Ranieri is clinically insane
and now resides in a mental hospital.

Her husband, who loved her so much
that he became her accomplice,

died while trying
to keep her above suspicion.

Inspector Morosini,

can you explain what moved this woman
to commit such horrible murders?

Good evening.

Excuse me.

Well, I believe that
the most qualified person

to answer to these questions is Dr. Renoldi,
the well-known psychiatrist...

our consultant during the investigation.

- If you don't mind, Doctor.
- Thank you.

For the time being we can only say this:

Ten years ago, Monica Ranieri,
who was born with paranoid tendencies,

was the victim of an aggression,
which traumatized her severely.

Her mental disturbance remained dormant
for ten years

until she came across a painting
that depicted the horrible scene

of which she had been the protagonist.

Her latent madness came to life,
violent and irresistible.

Strangely, she did not identify herself
with the victim

but with the aggressor.

Maybe to rid herself of fear.

In order to explain the behavior
of her husband,

who attempted murder on various occasions
to protect his wife,

we must assume that he suffered
from an induced psychosis.

That is, he was influenced
by his paranoid wife

to the point of becoming
homicidally psychotic himself.

I can hear him saying it now:

"Go to Italy. It's a peaceful country.
Nothing ever happens there."