Original subtitles

Crazy fucking drivers.

Muller,

give me the number.

Quick.

MONTEROSSI: THE SERIES

THIS IS NOT A LOVE SONG: PART I

You're a dickhead.

I love it when you mince words.

They're offering 25 grand an episode,

thirty-eight episodes in season two alone

and an option on a third and fourth.

-Want me to do the math? -No.

Katia, I'm ashamed of that shit.

But it's your shit. You can't be squeamish about it!

It used to be my shit.

It was just an ironic little joke.

What if we do a show on normal people's love affairs

as if they were celebrities on yachts?

-Isn't that what it is? -No! You know what it's become.

A machine with a 36 percent share!

Emotional porn, Katia.

No, worse!

What would you call a show where the writers celebrate

when a man with a gun takes six hostages to get on TV!

Me? I'd call it the show of the year, the new millennium!

Or something to be ashamed of as long as you live.

What?

I hope this suicide decision isn't about her!

Come on, you're too old to be feeling nostalgic!

What does nostalgia have to do with this?

We're talking about my conscience.

-So, this is about her. -Don't piss me off now.

Carlo, the beautiful house, the big car...

You're good, but the TV industry is cynical.

It's a moneymaking formula.

Don't tell me you want out

because she may think you're chucking your principles?

If you don't drop this, I'm outa here.

You're not St. Francis or Subcommander Marcos.

Things happen. Sometimes life is cruel.

I'd settle for not wanting to spit at my reflection.

But... Do you realize how much money this is?

No.

Please, switch off your phones.

-Actually, take out the battery. -Sorry, can't take it out.

We could always shoot it.

It's just an extra precaution. No problem.

-It's not a whole lot. -A long way from a whole lot.

I realize that, gentlemen, but that's all we know.

Let me get this straight.

You're asking us, without asking,

to kill a guy based on a photo and short description.

-That's not how things work. -This isn't the movies.

If this is all we have, we don't know if he's a loner,

if he's armed, if someone's looking for him,

or if it's a case the police are looking into.

These things really make the difference.

Anyway, we can pretend we never met.

And as per our agreement...

-goodbye. -Wait, wait a second.

Do you want... May I offer you a coffee?

We're already on edge.

So, it all began a few months ago.

Just outside Rozzano, there's a piece of land.

Contract already signed, plans well on their way.

They could've started building the next day.

But?

But...

There's this... Roma Gypsy camp.

Not just a few camper vans,

because then you could just pay, and they'd clear off.

No, this is an organized community.

The city council even started some experimental projects.

Modern stuff like...

living in diversity, that kind of thing.

Naively,

and I stress the word "naively",

my client thought that stirring things up

might help get things moving.

A bit cynical,

-but a solution because-- -OK. Go on.

The guy here in the picture,

De Magistris, takes the job a little too seriously.

One night, a few months ago,

he throws... some bottle bombs

and fires... a few shots into the crowd.

And the result?

Four people with burns, including a little girl, and

six camper vans destroyed.

See, Mr. Finzi. It's not so hard.

But now you have to tell us how it ends.

About ten days ago,

De Magistris gets in touch with my client

in a kind of unusual way.

"Unusual" how?

He left a dead cat on the seat of his car

and a note

demanding 50,000 euros for his silence.

-Did you give it to him? -Yes.

But then we got other demands.

Not to mention that

my client didn't appreciate the dead cat.

-He doesn't like threats. -Sure, a matter of principle.

So, what time did you get home?

Well, Detective, 8.30 or 9.

I went to dinner with my agent, then to a book presentation.

What did you do once you got home?

I poured myself some whisky, put on some music and

then I got a phone call.

Who called you? Your girlfriend?

No. Nadia. A friend. A girl I hired on Crazy Love,

the show I used to work on.

She's still there

and wanted to tell me what it was like in the studio

before going on live.

-Hey. -Carlo, watch the episode.

I won't watch it, Nadia.

I don't feel like witnessing my own funeral.

How did you find out?

Maybe from the 600 teasers they're showing all the time!

No, how did you find out it's actually your funeral?

What do you mean?

I don't want to spoil it now, but trust me.

Sit on your 6,000-euro sofa, turn on...

So, you were home alone? There wasn't anyone else?

No, I mean...

Caterina was still there.

She's the doorwoman who lives downstairs

but she's often at my place because she's kind of like...

my housekeeper.

-Signor Carlo. -Excuse me. What is it?

So, I made your dinner.

-It's in the oven, just warm it. -OK, thanks.

Oh, and read the flyer I put on the fridge.

OK, I'll look at it.

-Because it's important. -All right.

-I gotta go. It's starting. -Go! Don't miss the beginning.

You don't like your show, but I do!

So, the lady left the house about nine?

Yeah, ten to nine.

Anyway, what's it like over there?

The usual inferno. You were right to quit.

But it's no fucking surprise.

You know how much they offered me to stay?

Don't tell me or I'll get the guillotine.

But...

With all the assholes out there,

you really want to start a class war with me?

Listen, I gotta go.

-Some of us have to work! -Yeah.

But I tell you,

watch the show!

No way in hell!

OK, so you kept talking to this friend of yours?

Actually, no. We hung up because...

-the doorbell rang. -The smart doorbell.

Yes, the smart doorbell. After all,

-you can never be too careful. -Right.

Maybe that's why it never worked.

-Can you hear me? Who is it? -A delivery.

Sorry, it's late. You're my last delivery.

Come in. Sixth floor.

I opened the door

and went back to the kitchen for my whiskey,

and when I got back there was this guy

with a hood who pulled out a gun and said:

So, restoring justice is like a finger up your ass?

So, what did you do?

I said something really memorable,

like those American actors in the movies.

What do you mean?

Excuse me, what?

Then he lifted the gun to cock it, I think.

-That gave me time to think. -About what?

I confess, Detective.

I thought about a woman.

Pretty stupid, huh?

I thought I'd never see her again,

and this time, it wouldn't have been her fault.

I also imagined the whole farewell speech.

But if you don't mind, I'll spare you that, Detective.

I thought that it'd really suck to die.

I thought: Why the contents, not the container?

Why the liquid, not the solid?

Then I thought: Now I'm gonna pass out.

And in fact,

I did.

Now I'm in the ER being questioned by a cop

-like it's my fault. -Go figure.

Let's get back to the point.

You don't look like you're doing too bad.

Yeah, I can't complain.

Got anything worth stealing at home?

-Not really. -I mean, like...

-a painting, some jewelry? -No.

Jesus, what a pain!

Here, you answer it.

-Is it Carella? -Yes. Tell him I'm in the can

and that this is his case.

Didn't you want it?

That's the thing. If I say I want it,

he'll raise a stink to get it from me.

Tell him I'm busy with the case on those monks at the monastery.

-But he'll get pissed off. -Exactly.

He'll want to call Gregori, you say I already did.

Then he'll hang up.

and if he says he already called her?

You bluff and say I talked to the prosecutor.

But don't worry. He hasn't called her.

OK, yeah.

-You married? -No.

-Ever been married? -No.

-You gay? -No, but never say “never”.

Now all I have is an ex-girlfriend, sorry.

-She have your keys? -I don't think so.

We haven't talked in two years. I doubt she kept them.

-You do drugs? -I wish.

Involved in politics?

What does politics have to do with this?

Monterossi, let's be straight.

A guy went to your home to shoot you in the face.

So, I'll ask you an easier question.

Has anyone got it in for you?

Sure, there probably is.

But not to the point of wanting to kill me.

-You sure? -Sure enough. It'd be absurd.

It's absurd, but it happened.

Just a few centimeters and we wouldn't be here talking.

You were right. He said he'd call Gregori and hung up.

-Sh... should I call back? -No.

-Why not? -Because he'll call in sec.

Here.

If anything happens,

if you remember some small detail, call me. OK?

Yeah.

-You got a place to stay? -I'm going home.

-Sure? -Yeah, of course.

Send someone to watch his house.

See you tomorrow at the station for the report.

I may even have more questions.

-Does nine sound OK? -How about ten.

OK, ten it is.

Boss, it's Carella.

Hello?

Signor Carlo?

-My god, how are you? -I'm fine, Caterina, thanks.

The police just left.

-They made a mess. -I imagine they did.

-I cleaned it all up. -Thanks, Caterina. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Oh, I found a small plastic jar.

-Where? -On the stairs, near the vases.

-Why didn't you tell them? -They'd just left!

Right. Sorry.

-I left it on the kitchen table. -OK, I'll handle it.

-Goodnight. -Goodnight.

-Get some rest. -OK.

KATIA SIRONI: IF YOU DON'T SIGN,

I'LL RIP YOUR ARM OFF AND SIGN IT MYSELF.

-Hello? -Someone tried to shoot me.

You can say that again!

-Look, I'm serious. -So am I!

-What are you talking about? -Didn't you see tonight's show?

How could I have? Someone tried to shoot me!

Then watch it, you moron! Minute 70.

Call me when you're done.

Welcome!

Welcome, Crazy Love friends!

As I said, her story is--

Give me a hug, Teresa.

There's something I'd like to say.

I'd like to say something to you, Carlo.

Yes,

I'm talking to you.

Carlo Monterossi.

This season you're not here.

Look how this bitch is dragging me into this!

Us, who you've guided,

who you've encouraged.

Maybe you're upset, Carlo.

-This show had intense times. -What are you talking about?

Carlo, we're here.

When the time is right,

Crazy Love is your home.

Because...

these are the things we do for love.

Oh, go to hell!

What the fu...!

What the fuck is going on here!

[in Sinti] You had a long trip. Want to sleep first?

Hard to sleep after something this bad.

Helver.

Have you had other jobs?

Always other jobs, always bad things.

But this one's terrible.

Terrible.

Talk, Helver. Talk.

I... I saw two, maybe three of them.

The leader was in a big, white car.

A big SUV.

He did the shooting.

When he fired, his hand jerked up.

Big pistol.

And...

the second guy... I didn't see the second guy.

I was behind the fence. There are weeds.

The third one... was young.

Twenty years old.

Light hair. Writing on his arm.

-Tattoo? -Tattoo.

He threw two bottles that the leader gave him.

Lots of fire.

The leader took the bottle out of the trunk of the car,

lit the fuse and gave it to him to throw.

Then the leader escaped in the white car

and... and the younger guy on a blue motorcycle.

I... I got the number on the motorcycle.

Maybe not all of it.

[in Sinti] Lots of children, lots of strength.

Lots of children, lots of strength.

Good boy.

Good.

Now go.

Do you have any idea!

This is concealing evidence!

It's even human evidence! You just waltz in,

at 10 in the morning! A finger!

Like you're renewing your passport!

Don't thank me, Chief.

It's my duty to help with the investigation.

-Excuse me? -Since your team didn't find it,

it seemed right to bring it in.

You find a finger, then decide to sleep on it?

Listen, yesterday, someone tried to shoot me.

I found a finger in a jar.

Then they humiliated me in front of the whole world.

So, if you don't mind, it was midnight,

I was overwhelmed, shocked.

A night at the station too? No way.

You'll forgive me for sparing myself, right?

-Do you know this woman? -No.

-You sure? -Never seen her. Who is she?

You may recognize her better in this other picture.

No, nothing.

If you don't mind, let's talk about you.

-Any priors? -No.

-What else? What's his job? -TV writer.

Don't give me that look.

It's not as bad as being a serial killer.

Not quite as bad.

He writes for Crazy Love.

-That one with De Pisis? -Yeah, but...

It was my idea,

I only wrote the first season then left because of...

differing points of view.

So, that's why last night De Pisis dragged you in--

Sorry, but I bring you a cut-off finger.

Then, first, you show me a photo of a dead woman,

and now we're talking about my TV show!

I don't get it. I really don't get it.

All right, Mr. Monterossi.

Can you tell us where you were Monday night?

Between dinnertime and midnight?

Monday night...

I went to the movies. Yeah.

Then I ate out near my house and went home.

I must've gone to bed at 11.

If it's any help, I got some calls.

Oh, and I watched a TV movie,

one where forensics don't leave evidence behind.

Very funny. Too bad I'm getting pissed off.

Well, that makes two of us.

What are you asking me for? An alibi?

-Maybe we had a bad start. -Yeah, maybe.

-So, you don't know this woman? -No.

Lodovica Repici. RE-pee-chee or Re-PEE-chee. Ring a bell?

No. Never seen her, never heard of her.

Killed at her home in Sant'Agostino,

with a bullet from a 7.65 mm in her forehead

last Monday night.

First, they kind of interrogated her.

Her cleaner found her ten hours later,

with her middle finger sawed off at the third phalanx,

post mortem.

And you think that's the finger I brought you?

The one the guy who tried to shoot me had?

-Probably. -We're looking into it.

If you'd brought it last night,

it'd look like a finger, not a dog turd!

-That must be Sannucci. -Come in!

Excuse me.

-Well? -The report.

-You go ahead. -Yes, of course.

-Sorry, it's my first-- -I sympathize with new recruits,

-but you gotta help me here. -Yes, of course.

There are fingerprints on the jar.

Probably the cleaner's.

It's the kind you use for urine samples.

The finger isn't Ms. Repici's. It's a male finger.

We have some prints and an ID.

Lukas Muller. Born in Zurich in '68,

Milan resident in Via Vigevano 27.

-Navigli, the canal district. -Sannucci, two cars, now!

So, you know this Muller?

Actually, I do.

Then, maybe you should stay here till we get back.

And when will that be? I got things to do, you know!

Don't fuck with us.

If it was me, I woulda hit you

and charged you with concealing evidence.

Sit down!

It's you. It's you!

Why don't you go back to Flora?

What did she ever do to you?

Ingrate!

-Well? -First, our client.

Candido Cafiero, 72 years old.

He's the boss of this...

Terfim Inc.

It bought the camp's land, from the state, apparently.

-Kickbacks. -Probably.

Six hectares, good location,

-Ugly housing projects all over. -I smell a shopping mall.

-Sugar? -It's coming.

I'll spare you the company and shareholder details.

He's the head honcho.

Villa just outside Milan,

a pool and a 150,000-euro SUV.

-The one with the cat. -Exactly.

The garage has surveillance.

You can avoid the cameras, but it takes some planning.

Electric gate. You can't climb over it.

Remote control or a frequency device.

You saying our guy's good?

No, I'm saying he can open an electric gate

and catch a cat.

Go figure!

Could you do this one too, and I'll keep going?

-Give it here. -Thanks.

If you're far, you're better off throwing this at his head.

Never been far away. I like to see their face.

Let's move on.

-Our buddy in the photo? -Sergio De Magistris.

Thirty-eight years old.

Lived in a three-room apartment near Trotter Park.

Nobody says or knows anything. Very quiet neighbors.

-They scared? -Maybe.

Or maybe they just don't give a shit.

A small business.

Packages, deliveries, nothing illegal.

A delivery business.

Nothing moving for a few months.

Far-right winger.

Actually, a full-blown Nazi.

Neo-Nazi groups like the New Reich and Group 88.

People who criticize Hitler, but from the right,

say he didn't finish the job.

But he doesn't hang out with them.

Let's just say, he's a lone wolf.

-Any priors? -You name it.

Cocaine, almost 50 grams.

But he argued it was for personal use.

After a stadium fight,

they gave him attempted murder,

then aggravated assault, then just assault.

He did a month and a half in Opera Prison,

-then a pardon, and so on. -He has a good lawyer.

I'm coming to that. Ferdinando De Rosa,

a guy who defends Fascists and the like.

They say he's tough.

Former military, but a lawyer.

He gets them out,

pays to get the complaints withdrawn,

greases the wheels.

A guy with lots of fascist pals in uniform,

guys who'll write “scuffle” instead of “assault”

or “wounded” instead of “stabbed”.

So, we don't have shit,

-apart from this lawyer. -And just 15 days.

What's the rush?

Well... I booked a trip to Cortina.

Marta says I work too much, she's fed up.

What the fuck!

-That's what I say. -No, say that to her!

Sort this shit out, OK?

Lukas Muller, found at home dead as a doornail,

with a hole from a 7.65mm in his forehead,

and a finger up his ass.

Nice, huh?

The finger belongs to the woman from before,

killed Monday night with an identical bullet.

Tuesday night it was the Swiss guy's turn

and Wednesday, it was yours.

-So... -So, we cleverly deduce

that Muller's middle finger was meant to go up your ass.

A finger up my ass?

How did you know Muller?

You two get in some trouble?

No, I hardly knew Muller.

We exchanged a few emails. That's it.

He was a small-time hustler.

He wanted to sue some TV big shots,

I can't remember why, and he wanted my help,

something I was careful not to give him. That's it.

I...

I don't know how to help you. I'm totally clueless.

And you guys don't look like you're kidding either

about how clueless you are.

Now you pissed me off. How dare you!

Whoa, Carella!

Didn't we say I'd be handling this case?

-Then, handle it! -If I'm not mistaken,

I still gives the orders here! Is that clear?

You're right. We don't know much about it.

But make sure we can find you and don't leave Milan. Got it?

You got a scooter?

-Nope. -Now you do.

But there's a chain.

No more chain.

Thank you. Really.

This isn't a gift. Come here!

If anything, it's a reward.

But rewards come later.

Let's say, it's an investment.

Go on. Let it go.

Helver.

We found out where the guy with the tattoo lives.

Listen carefully.

Follow him for two days.

Watch him every second.

Then you tell us everywhere he went.

-You got that? OK? -OK.

Kid, you gonna bring a knife?

-Yes. -Good boy.

You were fucking lucky.

Just a matter of... nothing.

It went past me here.

-You heard it whizz by. -I sure did.

I thought I'd fix it, but no, I'll leave it like that.

Right.

Well.

I'm hungry.

-What have you got to eat? -Traditional Milanese fare.

Risotto?

Sushi and sashimi.

You're always behind the times!

Now traditional Milanese fare is sweet and sour lobster

with guacamole and goji berries.

At 100 euros a plate.

But they're nice. They have an installment plan.

Let's sit down, shall we?

Thanks.

You should've seen how Queen Flora's eyes sparkled

when she got the idea.

What idea?

“We'll create a love story right here on our show.”

“Let's pretend I'm in love

"and Carlo's my Prince Charming.”

What a bad fucking idea.

Audience peaked with her spiel on the philandering Monterossi.

Sure it did!

"Carlo...

"Carlo, don't leave me!"

Now you're in deep shit.

You could've at least warned me!

And miss imagining your face as you watched it live.

That's enough now.

I invited you to talk about serious stuff.

It is. Unless you return, Flora'll shoot you.

-Oh well. -Maybe she sent that killer?

Aren't you going to eat?

It's just that

the idea of a hole in my head and a finger up my ass...

It spoiled my appetite.

They should try that at health clubs.

"Ma'am, wanna lose weight?"

-Bang! -Yeah, not a pleasant thought.

Not to mention another thought he must've had.

Like what?

Would she have come to my funeral?

Would she have cried?

Come on, cut it out.

-I think you should tell her. -Tell her what?

Someone tried to shoot you.

You might win her back.

Sex, mystery, gunpowder!

-Careful, you're pissing me off! -OK, OK.

I almost died, and you preach to me about...

You believe I'd think about her at a time like that?

I do. She'd be the first thing I'd think of.

Not me.

I'd think about whoever wanted to kill me.

Yeah, because what if they want to try again.

That's nothing to be happy about.

-And the cops? -What can they say?

Why? Do you trust the cops?

It's a start.

What? They don't have a fucking clue.

Come on.

Do you realize it was Caterina who found the finger!

So, why don't we try and figure it out?

We just started the episodes of Crazy Love.

Falcone the super sleuth is still part-time.

Now we’re just slapping it together.

We could do that eyes closed.

Yeah, you're right.

How about you come work for me.

But I'll tell you right now, I pay a lot less than De Pisis.

And you're uglier too, if that's why.

You wouldn't say that if I were a pretty girl.

-2,000 euros. -Just don't get any wild hairs.

OK, Boss.

All right.

So, I...

I'd start by finding out

who Ludovica RE-pee-chee or Re-PEE-chee is.

-RE-pee-chee. -You know her?

No, but I know Italian.

And this...

Muller. The Swiss guy.

-You knew him. -Yeah, just barely.

Anyway, I'd do what we normally do.

Nadia, you search the web. Oscar, you start sniffing about.

-OK. -All right!

'Evening.

-A beer. -Make that two.

We're looking for this friend of ours.

Don't know him.

Of course you don't, but maybe you've seen him.

Sergio. Big Sergio. Don't know his last name.

We know his last name.

Where can we find him?

I don't know. He hasn't come in since last year.

The last time he showed up

with a new car and a guy in a suit.

Was it this guy here?

Yeah, that's the guy.

What were they doing here?

I don't know.

Maybe to deal a few grams.

Listen, I don't want that kind of trouble.

-What kind do you want? -'Cause we can get it for you.

Try talking to them.

Good evening. May I?

-Go ahead. -Thanks.

We're looking for these buddies.

Never seen them.

Big Sergio and his lawyer.

We don't wanna hurt them.

Like I give a shit.

I probably saw him two, three times.

He came here to sell coke.

Then he asked me to teach his girl to hustle,

get her started.

You know,

-show her the ropes. -What about her?

Pathetic. She would always cry.

Made a big fuss.

Well...

You kinda need to be cut out for it.

That's too true.

She'd say:

"I love him so much. Why does he do this to me?"

Like that lady says on TV:

"The things we do for love."

Then what?

Then I heard she got arrested,

but it must've been his fault.

A true gentleman.

If you know any better ones, introduce me.

The lawyer, maybe.

I only saw him once.

He wanted me to put the moves on a guy.

He took me to a club where everyone knew him.

What was the name of this club?

You sure ask a lot of questions.

You guys are a little curious.

Very curious.

If you're getting thirsty, it's no problem.

-Then, another two, Augusto! -Cheers.

Hey, Monterossi.

Monterossi!

Hey. What's going on?

Whatever you do, don't scream.

-What did you do to Flora? -Nothing.

-What'd you do to her? -Nothing!

Help!

Help!

Help.

Now, let's see what's in that maggoty head.

Bye bye.

Help.

How about I put on a little music?

I don't really feel like it.

Oh, you'll see.

You'll see how you relax.

What are you doing?

Talking in your sleep?

Is that you, Lucia?

Yeah, it's me.

I'm here.

I'm right beside you.

Did you see someone tried to shoot me?

I saw that.

You were so brave.

Even in downtown Milan, you have to be careful.

Not just in Iraq or wherever you go.

Yeah.

Milan's a real jungle.

Have you got a gun to defend yourself?

Are you kidding!

I don't have a gun.

That's a mistake.

Because here people shoot

and get shot every day.

You're right.

That's exactly how it is.

Can you hear those sirens?

Yes.

Hello.

-Monterossi? -Yeah.

This is Detective Ghezzi.

I'll be by to get you in 15 minutes.

What for?

I gotta take you someplace.

Where?

To the morgue.

Great.

SUBTITLES BY: HEATHER MILLIGAN