All language subtitles for Perry Mason S08E22 The Case of the Sad Sicilian.DVDRip.NonHI.en.CBS

Nice room,
considering the price.

No bugs anyhow, that's for sure.

There. Little bit of that
good old California sunshine.

Sort of warms up the bones.

The bathroom's to your right
down at the end of the hall,

and, um, well...
that about does it.

Grazie.

Molto gentile. Very, very nice.

Uh, something else,
uh, I can do for you?

Oh. Sì, sì, grazie.

Good-bye.

Seeing as how
you're a foreigner,

I think I'd better give
you a little friendly advice.

You see, we have an
old American custom.

You give an additional
fee for good service.

That way, you make friends.

You understand?

Yes.

Now, uh, one dollar, uh, uh...

Hey. Hey, take, uh, the, uh...
take the 25 cents, uh, please.

Yes. Thank you very much.

Now, remember, any
time you want anything,

you just ask for Joey.

I ask for Joey.

I remember Joey.

Bacio!

Ha! Bacio!

How much for the David?

It's marked $110.
You can have it for $55.

Lovely price. I'll take it.

Aren't you terribly excited
about going back to Italy?

These Roman
pieces are very nice,

especially at the price.

They look like marble.

It's our own process.

We're really rather proud of...

Would you excuse
me for a minute?

Are you looking for
something special?

Bellezza.

Yes, we do have some
beautiful things here.

Oh, la signorina parla Italiano?

No.

I understand a little.

Oh, but-but you Italian, no?

Italian descent.

Only Italian blood make,
uh, make such beauty.

Look, I-I have a
customer waiting.

Uh, maybe your father Siciliano?

Yes.

Uh, maybe from between
Caltagirone and Pietraperzia,

up in the mountain a small
village called, uh, Sciccata?

Oh, yes.

Up here the church.

Always on top, and then
one little street that goes...

goes down and down and down,

like a... like the happy
dog chasing the memories.

How did you know that
my father came from there?

It's a famous family in
the Campagna... Bacio.

Bacio. The kiss.

It's old family, very...
very well known.

Very fine. Much respect, huh?

Oh, my family come
from Sciccata, too.

Did you come here
to see my father?

Oh, sì, uh, sì.

Um, uh, Uncle
Giovanni tell me I...

- I bring greetings.
- Which one?

The little Uncle
Giovanni who is married

to the... to the
daughter of il pescatore.

You know, the
one who live, uh...

It doesn't matter.

Uh, my father should be
back in about two hours.

Well, then, uh, I
come back, huh?

Would you care to
leave your name?

Sì. Uh, Paulo Porro. That's me.

In English, it mean, uh...

It mean a... a wart.

Uh, arrivederci, signorina.

Bellezza.

Ah.

Oh, brother.

With his dough,

Bacio will be the richest
man in the mountains.

Do you know what this means?

He'll be like a little king.

The men will tip
their hats at him,

and the women will
practically crawl at his feet.

And for a man who
came from Sicily

30 years ago,
without even shoes,

it's like going to heaven
without having to die for it.

I can understand why
he's so anxious to get back.

But he's selling everything.

He's selling everything
right from under me!

Just like half of the business
wasn't rightfully mine!

It isn't.

You know as well
as I do that it is.

Mr. Dodson, you remember
when my father was still alive,

when he used to
build all the moulds,

when he used to make
all the plaster castings,

why, when he even
sat at that paint bench

without a ventilator,

slowly killing himself
with the paint fumes.

You saw it. You were there.

I saw it, but I never
saw papers stating

there was a partnership
between Mr. Bacio and your father.

But this was a family business!

Whoever thought
of legal documents?

It was taken for granted.

Giangiacomo, try to understand.

The courts do not take
anything for granted.

Well, I thought maybe
you can help me.

No, I can't.

Look, I am Mr. Bacio's lawyer.

Now, even if you
could produce evidence

supporting your claim, I
cannot act against him.

Well, suppose
you can find a letter

or something in the
file? Something...?

Are you accusing me of
hiding something from you?

Well, you keep all the files,
you handle all the books.

Nobody knows what
this business is worth

except you and the old man.

Big secret!

Man, I grew up in this business.

Half of it is legally mine.

I don't even know
what it's worth.

I'm sorry, my boy.
Mr. Bacio wants it that way.

Although I must admit, I
never could understand why.

Well, I'll tell you why.

Because he's the boss, and
we're the slaves, that's why!

That's the way he thinks.

All of us, slaves.
Even his own kids.

Massimo and Elizabeth,
and that poor old Serafina.

Why, the way he's
kicked her around is...

Now, that is enough!

I told you, I wish I could help,

but you have made
no attempt whatsoever

to understand the
legalities involved...

Oh, I understand, I
understand, all right,

that if I am to get any kind
of a settlement, I must do it

before he leaves the
country, and all alone,

because you are as afraid
of Bacio as everybody else!

Acme, Giustino, dela Vega,

all the way from Main
Street to Long Beach.

I go around all
day... Sell, sell.

I sell everybody.

I get lots of nice orders.

They're very happy to buy
Bacio products, the very best.

And they're happy
to pay this price.

You have the orders in writing?

What writing?

It's cash, my son. All cash.

Papa, you don't
seem to realize... Ah!

Bella. Al dente.

Grazie.

- Liza?
- Mm?

I think it is good you go back
to Italy before it is too late.

What's good about it?

Ah, you're getting pretty old
for not have a husband yet.

You haven't given me
much of a chance to...

I don't know.

In this country, the women
is forget how to be a women.

All her time mixed up
in a man's business.

You took me out of
school when I was 15,

and put me to
work in your office.

I do a man's job,

and save you a man's salary.

But I haven't had time to...

even say hello to a man,
much less go out with one.

You have been a good daughter.

I make it up to you.

As soon as we get
back to old country,

I give you a big dowry, and
I find you a good husband.

I don't want you to
find me a husband!

Liz, please, control yourself.

And don't you tell
me what to do, Max!

You keep your mouth shut!

I am sick and tired of
everybody telling me...

You show more
respect to your father!

I'm not a child anymore!

And I'm no slave, and
nobody is going to...

buy me a husband!

Not even my respected father.

Papa, can I please
go to my room?

As soon as you
finish your supper.

- Massimo?
- Mm?

You talked with Fiastri?

He'll buy all the moulds.

For cash?

Half down on delivery,
the rest in 90 days.

Uh, you told him no.

He's good for the money,
Papa. He's the biggest dealer

in San Francisco.
He'll pay the money.

You are not selling my moulds!

Your moulds?

You're not selling my
father's originals, and not mine.

They belong to me.

They made money for
you for all these years.

Now they're gonna make
money for me in my own shop.

Your own shop?

Yes. Why not? You are quitting.

You said you're
going back to Italy

to become a big man. Okay, go!

But you can't just leave me here

with nothing to
show for all the years

my father and me put
together to make you rich!

Jack, you're losing your head.

Oh, what am I supposed
to do? Let him here rob me?

I pay to bring your
father here to America.

He arrive with a dirty
pair of pants, a torn shirt,

one wife and one
baby. That's you.

I pay to eat, for clothes
and house to live.

My father worked
for you night and day.

Only to pay back what he owe me.

Sure. Imported slave labor!

This is a family business.

This is no family!

There's only you, and for you,
there's nobody else but you.

Not even your own kids count.

You would leave them
behind without a dime

if they don't go
to Italy with you.

That's what you said, isn't it?

Didn't he say that to you?

And to you? Didn't he say that?

Serafina, the bell.

And you, Serafina...
What is he doing for you

for all the years you've been
everything but his legal wife?

What has he?

Serafina, the doorbell!

Uh, buona serra, signorina.

Sì?

Um, uh... Sono venuto...

Oh, no. I speak English.

Va bene. So you speak
English. What do you want to say?

Uh, I am come to
visit Mr. Enrico Bacio.

Oh, no, no, bet... better
that you come back tomorrow.

Oh, perpiacere, please.

Tell him, uh, Paulo Porro
from Sciccata come...

No, no, it's not possible...

Porro, you say?

Yeah, from Sciccata
where he is born.

His Uncle Giovanni tell
me I-I bring greetings.

Uh, also I am in San
Francisco, but-but I...

Ma non.

Non e possibile.

Sit. Accomodi.

Sit. Accomodi.

Oh. Oh.

I tell him. I tell him.

I tell him right
now. No waiting.

Uh, grazie, grazie.

Porro!

I am not surprised
you all against me.

You want me to stay here
because you think only of yourselves.

If this is the
gratitude I get for...

- Padrone, a young man.
- Ah, do not interrupt.

- From Sciccata.
- I told you...

From Sciccata. A Porro.

Porro?

Paulo Porro.

A Porro?!

He was in this
afternoon looking for you.

Why you didn't told me?

Well, I forgot.

Massimo... call the police.

- The police?!
- Why, Papa?

Do not ask why! Call the police!

My life is in danger.
I get my shotgun.

Well, now, what's
all that about?

Il destino, Elizabetta.

The fate.

Some people can
never escape the fate.

Never. Never.

Language is more than a system
of communication between people.

In a way, it's a permanent
record of experience,

and people of different cultures

often react differently
to the same experience.

The great translator
is often as creative

as the original author

because he's not
translating words,

but the meaning of words.

Oh, for example, there were
some enormous mistakes made...

Excuse me, Father.
Telephone for you.

For me?

Well, who is it, do you know?

Yes, Father. It's the
Valley police station.

Hmm. You, too?

Only when they need an Italian.

I'm sorry, Father, but, uh,
this time, I guess it's urgent.

He said something
to do about murder.

All right, then.
Attempted murder!

But did he wave a
gun at you, or a knife?!

Or make any kind of a move?

It makes no difference
what he do or don't do!

He's gonna kill me.

You let him go now,
he kill me for sure!

Signore Bacio...

Please, why you say
these terrible things?

I do not talk to you.

I do not even look
you in the face.

How you know I
want to kill you?! Huh?

Do I make some, um, how you say?

Um... minacciare?

Talk English!

Threaten.

He is asking if he ever
threatened this man.

Thank you for coming,
Father. Thank you.

Non necessario, Padre.

His name is Porro.

Sì.

That is threat enough for me.

But I told you!

A threat is not enough
reason to hold him in jail!

Who say so?! You?

What do you know?

The Bacios and the Porros
always kill each other! Always!

Serafina, is it true?
Answer yes or no.

In Sicily, yes.

- Ah.
- But-but why? Why?

Mamma mia. Mamma,
tell me why now.

You know why, you killer!

Sergeant, uh, may I suggest
that we ask this gentleman

to tell us why the
Porros and the Bacios

are always killing each other?

Uh, yeah. Yeah,
Mr. Bacio, tell us why.

I don't know why!

The vendetta... it
start 150 years ago.

So long everybody's forget why.

But it don't stop until
everybody's dead, that I know.

Oh, you mean to say,

you don't even know
how and why it started?

What difference does it make?

The hate's the same.

You, Porro... you hate me, no?

You come to this
country to kill me, yes!

No, no! But...

Yeah, but maybe
he try to kill me, yeah.

Yes. Yes. Maybe you
better put him in the jail!

Now, stop it! That's enough!

We're not in Sicily now.

We don't recognize
this old blood feud

or whatever you call it

as a reason for
holding him in jail.

Where do you live, kid?

Uh, Hotel Bella Vista,
near the stazione.

All right, Father, please
explain to this boy

that I have no
reason for holding him.

But I will have if he's found

prowling around
Bacio's property!

Also, that he's here
on a tourist visa,

and if he don't behave himself,

the least that can
happen to him is

that he will be deported
from this country.

Now all of you, get out of here!

Sì, sì.

Basta. We'll go. We'll go.

Thank you, Father. Thank you.

Sergeant, you
making a big mistake.

This Porro come to
this country to kill me.

He's a malandrino.

A killer. You
understand? A killer!

But why did you go to
see Mr. Bacio, young man?

Oh, I am in San Francisco,

visiting, uh, my
cousin from Sciccata.

He say, "Go see
Bacio in Los Angeles.

Bacio very nice man,
um, uh, very, uh..."

How you say, ospitable?

Hospitable.

Mm. Very hospitable.

Uh... This man, he's, um...

from Sciccata, huh?

I think maybe... my
cousin, uh, Fiastri

from San Francisco's
not a very nice man.

Yeah.

I think maybe, uh, he
play bad joke on me, huh?

I think maybe I go
back San Francisco

and-and pull out the
teeth, he don't smile so big.

I think you'd better
stay out of trouble,

or you're liable to
find yourself in jail.

Oh... I do not worry now.

Now I am friends with
a famous avvocato!

Not vegetable, Perry. Lawyer.

Thank you.

But as far as friends go...

Ah, please. Um,
that was my joke.

I listen to what the father
say, don't you worry.

From now on, I stay
away from trouble forever.

Hey!

Stop! Stop!

Signore Bacio?

Are you dead?

Oh, mamma mia.

You?! Porro?

- You!
- No! No! No!

No, signore, I didn't hit...

Malandrino, you on my
property. I kill you first.

Aah!

Operator, get me the police.

There's... there's
been a murder.

Pazzia... pazzia.

Crazy. Everything's crazy.

This-this telegram...

It say 12:00, so I go 12:00.

Telegram was sent to you?

It's in Italian.

"Come to my... laboratories."

It's a funny word
for him to use.

"Will give you $5,000 to go
away and leave me alone forever.

Signed, Bacio."

So, of course, you
hurried out there.

Did you see anyone
else when you arrived?

Only Bacio, lying on the earth,

in-in the dark, like-like dead.

I... I run to him,
I-I shake him.

I say, uh, "You all
right, Signore Bacio?"

He open the eyes, he see me,

and he... he make
sound like a...

like an angry lion.

He get up, and he...
and point the, um...

How you say, uh, fucile?

- Gun.
- He point the gun at me.

I say, "Mr. Bacio,
I... I do not hit you."

He say, "You on my
property, I-I kill you!"

I see he gonna do it for real.

I do not die for somebody else.

- I break his head.
- You hit him?

No, no. I... I take
away the gun,

and I... and I throw it away.

I-I throw it away. I...

He jump at me, and...
and then I hit him.

The old man is a
strong fighter, and...

But I'm younger,
so-so-so, he fall...

he fall down again, and...

and then I think fast.

"Paulo, better you go away."

So I go away
running on two feet.

Where did you get the knife?

What knife?

The knife, the file,

whatever it was that
was used to stab him.

Why you-you ask such a thing?

Somebody hit the old
man in the head, maybe.

I, uh... I punched
him once, and I...

and I kick him another time.

Wh-What does
stabbing got to do with it?

That's how he was killed, Paulo.

He was stabbed in
the back of the neck.

Oh. Mamma mia.

It's pretty messy in here.

The police have asked
us not to clean up yet.

Where did you find your father?

Over there.

And he was dead
when you found him?

Yeah.

Pretty crowded room, isn't it?

Well, we've never
had enough space

to keep up with the
growth of the business.

Not enough
storage, not enough...

What's the matter?

Something missing?

No, no. I-I'd just forgotten,
we'd moved some moulds

to the other side of
the shop, that's all.

Oh. By the way... did
your father own a shotgun?

Yes.

Do you know where it is?

In his room, I suppose.

Wonder if I could see it.

All right.

Uh, maybe you wouldn't
mind getting it for me

while I take a look
around outside here.

Sure.

Mr. Drake?

The shotgun isn't here.

I don't understand it.

My father always kept
that gun in his room.

Doesn't matter.

You say you were
on your way home

when you saw Porro
running down the street?

- That's right.
- Were you driving a truck?

No, no, my own car.

Well, a small truck carrying
a heavy load left here

in a hurry last night.

How do you know that?

Tire tracks... and it
rained earlier, remember?

Yeah.

Does that have anything
to do with the shotgun?

Possibly. I'll have
to tell the police.

Maybe their lab
can figure it out.

You mean, like, whose
truck was here and why?

Or maybe you could
find out the real story

of last night for me, Mr. Bacio.

Oh, course, Mr. Drake.
I'll do what I can.

Did Mr. Bacio leave a will?

Not that I know of.

At least, he, uh...

he would never let
me write him one.

Some kind of superstition.

Then his son and his
daughter inherit everything?

Yes. Unless this, um...

Unless what, Mr. Dodson?

Their cousin,
Giangiacomo, seems to think

he has a 50% claim
against the business.

He has documentation
to support his claim?

Absolutely none.

Nor does he have any witnesses

to substantiate a
verbal agreement.

So you're suggesting

this Giangiacomo had a
motive for killing his uncle?

I am suggesting nothing.

Now, Mr. Mason, you
came here for information.

I'm only trying to...

Of course,
Mr. Dodson. Of course.

And how much will the Bacio
estate actually amount to?

I would estimate...
half a million dollars.

Bacio had intended to liquidate,

but the problem was,
he wanted all cash.

He had a mania about cash.

He didn't want to
leave anything behind,

not even a guaranteed,
short-term note.

Cash, all cash. No matter who.

Pay now, 100% cash.

I can almost hear him.

I can hear it now.

"Cash, all cash!"

And what is wrong
with cash, huh?

Oh, no.

The death of our dearly
beloved father will not be allowed

to destroy this business,

or the principles which
he so successfully created.

Therefore, we will
go on as before,

a closely-knit family.

La famiglia, huh?

Each doing his bit to make the
business even more successful.

Grazie, Serafina.

I intend to make
Bacio the biggest name

in plaster reproductions,

a truly lasting
memorial to our father.

Hmm. Count me out.

Hmm?

I've been jailed in this factory

for as long as I can remember.

I intend to go...
husband hunting.

I'm opening my own shop, Max.

I cannot stay in
this house any more.

I go with Giangiacomo.

The police have cold
and unsentimental minds.

Show them a motive, and
they suspect a murderer.

Each of us in this room had
a motive for killing my father.

You're not accusing me of...

Did you want to
go back to Italy?

Oh, Massimo, how
can you ask your sister?

Most of the moulds
are missing, Jack.

The ones you claim as yours.

They were taken the
night my father was killed.

Taken away in a truck.

Yeah? What about it?

Did my father catch you
stealing those moulds?

I only took what belongs to me.

Ah.

My father claimed they were his.

Giangiacomo is right,
I know! That's why I...

And what did you do, Serafina?

Did you help
Giangiacomo, perhaps?

What if I did?

The moulds are his.

And perhaps you hit my
father on the head, huh?

According to the
police doctor...

Elizabeth, please.

I-I had to hit him.

I-I had to strike your father!

He was going to
shoot Giangiacomo!

And maybe the blow
killed him, Serafina!

You've said many
times you intended to kill.

Max!

Now, what are you driving at?!

I am thinking for
my family, Elizabeth.

It is my responsibility
now that my father is dead.

There isn't any
more family, Max.

I accept this responsibility,

even if it means
that I must lie for you.

Depend on me, and no
harm will come to any of you.

Everything goes
on exactly as it was

when my father was alive.

And look what happened to him.

Nothing happened to him...

until he tried to sell out.

It's good to know

none of us would
do such a thing.

Il Bacione.

He has... come back.

Well, please have him call the
office the minute he comes in.

Yes, it's very
urgent. Thank you.

Try, uh, Father Reggiani.

Oh, I don't think that...

I've been calling
all over town for you.

What's the problem?

Friends at headquarters tell
me things, especially bad things.

Like they found a telegram
on Bacio's body, signed "Porro."

What's in the telegram?

My friend couldn't tell me
exactly 'cause it's in Italian.

But he says it's definitely
a threatening message.

Paulo never mentioned
sending a telegram.

If he had, he wouldn't.

Paul, see if you can get
a copy of that telegram.

Then check it out with
the telegraph company.

- Okay.
- Oh, wait a minute.

How are we doing with
Paulo's cousin in San Francisco?

He's a hard man to contact.
They say he's out fishing.

Fishing? Did you get
the name of the boat?

Even tried
ship-to-shore telephone.

They couldn't raise him.

Think he's trying to avoid us?

Could be, but I
wouldn't know why.

Rather coincidental
time to go fishing, isn't it?

And it's just occurred to
me that Paulo visiting Bacio

at this precise time is
a little coincidental, too.

Paul, suppose you check

with the other members
of the Bacio family on...?

Can't be done, Perry.

They're all tied up as
prosecution witnesses,

and they'll all sing
the same song.

Namely, your boy did it.

- Is that so?
- Maybe he did.

Every member of
the family agrees on it.

Oh, Paul, stop that!

When I think of that poor boy

with those beautiful brown
eyes and that lovely smile

even being accused of
murder, it makes me want to...

Perry, can't you
think of something?

Do something!

Why are you so concerned?

Well, uh... I'm not! It's, uh...

It's just that he's,
uh... so Italian!

Let's go, Paul.

Buon giorno, Counselor.

And top of the morning to you.

How's your arm?

It hurts.

What is it, Paulo?

Uh, these people,
uh, why are they here?

Who are they?

Oh, I-I don't know.

They make sounds like Italiano.

All rise.

And you say, Doctor,
the death was caused

by this or a similar weapon?

By that weapon.

The same file which
has been identified

as belonging there in the shop.

Thank you, Doctor.

But your autopsy report also
mentions a slight concussion.

Are you able to tell us
when this happened, Doctor?

Yes. Before death occurred.

How long before death occurred?

Perhaps a few moments.

Four or five minutes,
no more than that.

What did you see when
you were driving home

a few minutes before midnight?

I saw the defendant, hurrying
from the direction of our place,

running off down the street.

Did you say
"running," Mr. Bacio?

He ran as if the devil
himself were after him.

And what did you
yourself do then?

Well, naturally, I was disturbed

over the things
my father had said

earlier in the day
in the police station.

So, when I drove into the
yard, I went back of the house

to see if anything was wrong.

Were you able to
see anything at all?

And if so, what
did you find there?

My father...

with that file stuck in
the back of his neck.

Dead.

You admit that you found
tire tracks, Lieutenant.

Did you locate the vehicle,

the truck, which
made those tracks?

We did.

It belonged to the young
man, nephew of the deceased,

Mr. Giangiacomo Bacio.

And yet despite the fact

that you knew this young
man's truck had been there,

near the scene of the crime,
and close to the time of the murder,

you simply dropped
this line of investigation?

You made no further...?

Mr. Mason, I've
already testified.

Weather reports
showed that the rain

which caused those
tracks to exist occurred

nearly three hours
prior to the murder.

Now, this coincided

with the truck owner's
statement to police

that he had only come to pick
up a few tools at about 10:00.

Since his statement
has been verified

by every member
of the Bacio family...

The repetition of
those statements

is hardly best
evidence, Lieutenant.

I know, sir, but
I'm simply trying

to save the court's
time by explaining that...

The court knows how to
read its own watch, Lieutenant.

On the other hand,
Mr. Mason, this is only a hearing.

Now, perhaps this
line of questioning...

I only wanted to ask a question
about the shotgun, Your Honor.

Now, did the police
find any connection

between the
aforementioned tire tracks

and the shotgun of the deceased
which was discovered nearby?

No. That shotgun bore
fingerprints of the deceased,

and of the defendant,
no one else.

And since the defendant
has already admitted

that he tore the gun
away from Mr. Bacio...

That will do, Lieutenant.

We've had enough improper
evidence for the moment.

Now, let's return
to the telegram

which you state you
found on the body.

Exhibit three,

the supposed
threatening telegram,

allegedly sent by the
defendant to Mr. Bacio.

But I did not send
it, Mr. Mason!

Be quiet, Paulo.

I will not be quiet!

He sent me a telegram,
yes, but I send him nothing!

I tell you the truth.

I... I am honest Italian boy.

Sì, sì.

This is a court of law.

You must behave
with dignity and respect.

You're not in the market
place in Sciccata now.

But it is not true...

I've been told the
Italians in court are people

who've been brought here from
other towns by the prosecution.

Who are they? Why
are they mad at you?

Tell the truth.

I have six months,

maybe one year, to-to make
turismo all over America.

And, uh, to work is,
uh, to lose the time.

And also, the law say

that I cannot work
without work permit.

If you didn't work,

where did you get
money for the turismo?

What's money for?
To eat and sleep.

If I find a-a way to, uh,

eat and sleep for nothing,
I-I don't need the money, no?

I go to New York.

I, uh, open the telephone book.

I look for name of
Porro... Why Porro?

Well, you forget, it's my name.

And I find, uh, which
has the best, uh, house,

uh, which is, uh,
the most richest.

I go.

Buona sera, Signore.

Uh, you are Pasquale Porro?

I am Paulo Porro, your
cousin from Sciccata.

I bring you the greetings
from Uncle Giovanni.

How do you know he
has an Uncle Giovanni?

Hey, all Sicilians
got Uncle Giovanni.

And all Sicilians are good
people with big hearts,

happy to see cousin from Italy.

So, they make an
invitation I visit their house.

Free room and board.

Now, Paulo is no pig.

Pass three day, and I say I go.

And they say, uh, "Please
remain one more week."

So, New York, Chicago, Boston,

uh, San Francisco.

Hey, uh, bellezza.

Sleep good, eat good.

And turismo cost
nothing, all free.

But why all those
people out there...

Why they mad at me?

What... what wrong I do them?

Now, they accepted
you without question.

They trusted you,
perhaps even loved you.

But you made fools
of them. You hurt them.

But they... they have no
right to... to call me murderer.

Paulo, if they ever
get on the stand,

they'll give Burger a
chance to call you ungrateful,

a swindler, a petty
racketeer and a thief.

Now, let's have the
truth about this telegram.

This the... the telegram
they say I-I write to Bacio?

A copy, yes.

It's a threat that says
unless he pays you $5,000...

Mr. Mason, please. I...

I go to school.
I-I do not write...

Now I don't believe you, Paulo.

Please, Mr. Mason,
I... I swear to you, I...

I do not send...

- I believe him, Perry.
- Oh?

In fact, I'm not even sure

that this telegram
was sent by an Italian.

Yes, Paul?

I found the fisherman, Perry.
Uncle Fiastri, remember?

It's in the use of the verb
here... to earn or to profit.

Tell me tomorrow, Father,

before court, first
thing in the morning.

But Perry...

We're on our way
to San Francisco.

Della will call you.

I'm back in the shop, Mario.

Mario?

Who you? What do you want?

I'm Perry Mason.
This is Mr. Paul Drake.

We've been trying to get in
touch with you for two days.

- Get out.
- Now look, Mr. Fiastri.

I say, get out!

Do I have to get a court order?

Oh, no, no, no,
no, please, please.

I don't want to get mixed
up in no court business.

Then tell me why you sent
Paulo Porro to visit Enrico Bacio?

Oh, that... Un
scherzo. Just a joke.

I am a fool, I know. Idiot.

But how do I know
nice boy like this

has got a black
secret in his heart?

Then there actually is a feud

between the Porros
and the Bacios?

Oh, once there was.

When I'm a little boy back
in Italy, I hear the story.

Porro and Bacio always
killing each other like crazy.

But one day, when this
Porro boy come to me,

I don't think it's
even the same family.

Just coincidence, that's all.

Paulo brought you, uh, greetings

from your Uncle
Giovanni, I presume?

How do you know this?

Just tell us something else.

Did you know that old
Mr. Bacio was selling out

and returning to Italy?

Oh, sure. I'm dealing with
Bacio to buy the moulds.

Uh, sculpture,
like this, you know?

But, uh... Bacio's a bad man.

Cash. Always cash.

Half now, half in 90 days.

I say, I give security
to make up the note.

No, he says.

He says with him back
in Italy, I try to crook him!

So, what did you do then?

Hey, wait a minute. Maybe
I better not answer so much

until I talk with my lawyer.

Mr. Fiastri, I'm not concerned
with who owns those moulds now.

I'm only trying to
prevent the state

from sending an innocent
countryman of yours

to the gas chamber for murder.

Ah, sì, sì, sì, sì.

Poor boy.

That Paulo does not fool me.

You know, I am maybe
the one Italian in all the world

who does not have
an Uncle Giovanni.

But me. Me... I got a big mouth.

I say to the son,

"You tell the old man if he
don't stop calling me crook,

I will fix him so he never
go back to Italy alive."

You spoke to who?

The son. Son of Bacio.

You know, Massimo, he's called.

I speak with him to help me
make the deal with old Bacione.

That's when I tell
him the old story

about the Porro-Bacio feud.

But I'm only laughing about it.

And what did Massimo say to you?

Well, he laugh, too.

But then he say, "Send
the boy to my father.

Tell the boy nothing."

He say, uh, "Maybe the boy's
name will scare Papa good,

he'll make the deal,
do what we both want."

So, I send Paulo.

I help make the joke.

I am a funny man.

A real Pagliaccio. Oh.

But why you don't
ask Massimo, not me?

I didn't know anything
about this Porro kid.

I didn't know who he was.

But you did know
about selling the moulds.

You were upset

because you considered
them your private property.

Of course. My father was
a sculptor, was a true artist.

He made them.

The moulds of his statuary

are the most valuable
things we have.

Then tell me.

Tell me where those
moulds are now.

Now, let me warn you.

I've just returned
from San Francisco

where I talked with Mr. Fiastri.

All right, most of them
are still in my truck.

I was going to sell
some to Mr. Fiastri,

and I was going to keep
some for my own shop.

They're mine.

Yes, why haven't you
completed the sale to Mr. Fiastri?

Why haven't you admitted that
you went to the shop that night,

not only to get a few tools,

but to load your truck
with those moulds?

Because I promised
Massimo I would wait.

I promised him I wouldn't.

And for what reason

were you suddenly
being nice to Massimo?

Because he knew I
wasn't there just at 10:00.

I mean, it took us nearly
an hour to load the truck,

and-and by the time I
drove the truck away,

it was nearly 11:00.

I waited. I didn't
want to take it away

until everybody was asleep.

Uh, but I never saw the old man.

Honestly, I never saw him.

You say it took us an
hour to load the truck?

Us?

Well, her. She
helped me. Serafina.

Of course I help him.

I would help anybody who
wanted to hurt that old man.

20 years of my life he take.

20 years.

And he throw it away
like it's... nothing.

Serafina, when Paulo
Porro first came to the house,

did you know who he was?

Did you know the
stories of the old feud?

Sì.

Bacio... he's terrified

of things like that.

Witches and darkness.

I know that, too.

At that time, you didn't
believe the boy was a killer?

Oh, no, no. No.

Not at first, but...
now, of course...

Then why did you
act so strangely

when he first came to the house?

Maybe I was upset.

Bacio... he was going to Italy.

He was going to leave me for...

Was it because you knew in
advance that Paulo was coming?

Oh, no. No, please!

You've sworn to tell
the truth here, Serafina.

But I not know.

I not know all of it.

Not until he explain...
Him. Massimo.

He even knew where
the young boy was staying.

He was called by a
man from the hotel,

so, I... I help him to scare
the old man, too. That's all.

I did not know it was real.

Why haven't you
told us this before?

Because... Massimo...

Massimo know my sin.

It was... I who struck...

Bacio on the head.

He was going to shoot at
the truck, at Giangiacomo,

so I-I had to hit him!

Only then... Bacio fell...

and he did not speak.

And I... I run.

I run to get the doctor.

But when... when I got back,

there was police.

Bacio was... dead.

Stabbed.

May it please the court,

in the light of this admission,

I would like to
recall a witness.

Go right ahead, Mr. Mason.

I'd like to hear

what Massimo Bacio
has to say for himself, too.

Oh, Your Honor,

the witness I would like
to recall is... Mr. Dodson.

Yes, I was Mr. Bacio's
lawyer for many years.

How many years, Mr. Dodson?

24.

And in those 24 years,

you've given him legal counsel
on many different problems?

Naturally.

You helped handle his money?

Of course.

Do you speak
Italian, Mr. Dodson?

No.

You neither read
nor write Italian?

I have no ear for languages.

Besides, Mr. Bacio's
English was fluent.

Was his English as
fluent 24 years ago

as it was the day he was killed?

Well, it improved
over the years.

Were there times,
especially in the beginning,

when you found it
convenient to use a dictionary

to make certain there
were no misunderstandings?

Frequently, especially
in the beginning.

Now I have here two telegrams.

Please read them
to me and tell me

whether or not they are
written in fluent Italian.

Well, I've already stated I
don't read or write Italian.

For your information,

they are literal translations
of English sentences.

That's what's wrong with them.

Mr. Dodson,

why did Mr. Bacio always
insist on dealing in cash?

What? Oh, I don't know.

Was it to evade taxes, possibly?

Well, as a lawyer,
I really couldn't...

Yes, Mr. Dodson.

As a lawyer who
helped with those taxes,

if Mr. Bacio had tried to run
off to Italy with his money,

wouldn't you also have been
in trouble with the government?

Well, of course. Yes, but...

Or couldn't you produce all
of Mr. Bacio's money for him?

No, that's not true!

Now, I did not touch one penny!

But, well, when
I tried to explain,

it takes time to liquidate,
he wouldn't listen.

The blind, stubborn ox just
wanted his cash. His cash!

His cash! He...

So, because of the
trouble this would cause,

you then proceeded
to kill Mr. Bacio?

No!

Now, I wasn't
out there! I wasn't!

I did send those telegrams.

Now, I know it was foolish,

but I was desperate.

There were certain funds...

I just wanted to
egg the trouble on,

make Bacio afraid to go
back to Sicily for a while.

I-I had no idea
anyone would be hurt.

And I suppose
Mr. Bacio's son, Massimo,

knew all about this,
too, Mr. Dodson?

Did you kill your
own father, Massimo?

Is that why you wanted
everyone to remain silent?

No! No, it is not true!

Did you come back to the
shop and see him lying there?

It is not true, I tell you!

Of course it's not, Mr. Dodson.

Why would he jeopardize himself

by asking others
to remain silent?

If he were the killer,

why would he place
himself at their mercy

by suborning their perjury?

I only wanted to protect
my family, my shop.

To protect my business!

But who else could
have done it, Mr. Dodson?

What other individual could
have seen Paulo arriving,

and then after the boy fought
with Bacio and ran away,

have picked up the
murder weapon...?

Serafina?

He was a beast!

He was cruel!

Did you really go for
a doctor, Serafina?

He steal, he punish,
he take, take, take.

All for him, all for Bacio!

Bestia.

Ho sacrifato tutta la mia vita!

Non ma'h datto niente.

Niente.

La strada.

Sì.

Sono io.

Dio. Dio me perdone.

I kill him! I kill him!
I kill him! I kill him!

You know, Paulo,

you are happy, but you
have no right to be happy.

What I do now?

When you received that
telegram, you did something

even Mr. Dodson
didn't expect you to do.

You actually would have
tried to collect $5,000

to which you knew
you weren't entitled.

Collect? Father, why
you say such a thing?

Mr. Mason, do I ask
anyone for money? Never.

Do I take money from anyone?

Never! Uh...

Paulo, why did you
go out there that night?

If-if someone
wants to give me...

Maybe I... I
wanted to see the...

the pretty Elizabeth,
maybe, huh?

Oh, now, leave him alone.

I'm sure you've learned your
lesson, haven't you, Paulo?

Oh, sure, sure.

First of all, I...

I learn, never to go to
little village of Sciccata.

Oh, you bet!

You mean, never
go back home again?

No, never go the first time.

My home in Naples.

I knew it.