All language subtitles for Profondo.Rosso.1975.DC.BluRay.1080p.DTS.x264-CHD.eng

DEEP RED

Great!

Really, that's good. Very good.

Maybe a bit too good.

Too clean. Yes, too precise.

Too... formal. It should be more trashy.

See what I mean?

Remember that this sort of jazz

came out of the brothels...

...and this phenomenon, as the latest studies confirm,

is not restricted to superior species

but includes vertebrates and invertebrates as well.

Butterflies,

termites, zebras,

all these animals, and many more,

use telepathy to transmit orders and relay information.

This is a proven fact that can easily be demonstrated.

For instance, if we put a butterfly in a cage, within a few hours,

it will be able to gather many other butterflies around it

which will quickly swarm in, in answer to its call,

even covering a distance of several miles. This is telepathy.

The faculty comes naturally to the newborn in the early stages of life

but they lose it as they acquire means of verbal communication.

On the other hand, certain rare individuals,

for reasons as yet unknown to us, do not lose this faculty.

One such exception is Mrs Helga Ulmann

who is here in Italy for a series of conferences.

Helga has extraordinary telepathic powers.

We've been amazed by her natural inclination for the paranormal.

I will let her tell you herself. Helga Ulmann.

I would like to point out immediately

that my faculties have nothing whatsoever to do with magic,

the esoteric or fortune-telling.

I pick up facts the very moment they occur or have occurred

but nothing of what is to come.

I can feel thoughts the very instant they are formed.

Some I can even sense a long time afterwards,

being so strong,

that they linger about the room

like cobwebs.

You, sir.

Yes you, in the third row, with your right hand in your pocket.

You're clutching a bunch of keys.

Four keys, one of them very long.

It's true. Look, they're right here!

Your name is Pietro...

Forgive my pronunciation... Valgoi?

Yes, Valgoi, that's right.

Mr Valgoi, excuse me. May I ask you something?

Do you know Mrs Ulmann by any chance?

- No. - Forgive my persistence.

Could you have met her before and told her your name?

How could I? I live in Bologna. I only arrived in Rome three hours ago!

It's absolutely impossible.

Good, thank you, sir.

No, no!

Out! Out! No!

Excuse me.

I'm sorry.

There is something...

...someone.

No, I don't know what it is. Forgive me. I'm sorry.

Helga?

I can't explain what it was.

Something strange and sharp, like a knife

entering my flesh.

Please forgive me, but it's all right now, thank you.

I feel it again.

It's here. I can feel death.

I feel a presence.

I have entered into contact with a perverse mind!

Its thoughts are of death.

Go away!

You...

...have killed

and you will kill again!

That children's song

and that house down there

and...

...death.

And that blood!

I'm scared, I'm scared!

Helga, it's all right! Calm down, that's enough!

Yes, let's hide everything,

as if nothing happened in the house. Everything back the way it was.

No one must know, no one must find out!

Just forget, forget everything...

...forever... forever.

Are you OK?

Anything I can do for you? Get some help?

It was all so clear, believe me. It was so frightfully clear.

Like a thorn piercing my brain.

I heard his twisted thoughts,

cruel and yet childish at the same time.

How odd. Before, in front of the audience,

I couldn't express all the sensations that gathered in my mind,

but I'll write them all down tonight at home.

I'll let you have it tomorrow.

You may use it as you see fit.

I'm saying this because now, you see,

I also know who that person is.

- What's the matter? - No, it's nothing.

Those evil thoughts must be here, stagnating in this room.

Just a moment ago it came back to me.

I must admit I'm frightened. I'm really frightened.

I really need some rest.

I'm feeling very tired.

Shouldn't we talk about that right away?

I'd like this article to be published while I'm still in Italy.

Yes, I am alone.

Yes, I am a bit jumpy, but don't worry.

We'll talk again tomorrow?

Hinno, Marc!

Hinno? What does that mean?

What are you talking about?

A client just said it to me in the bar.

He said it's a Tahitian word.

Or was it Madagascar?

I'm so damn drunk, I can't even remember!

Anyway, it means

alla salute, cheers, a votre sante, sk?l!

Listen, Carlo, when I was in America I met a lot of people like you.

Heavy drinkers, they don't last long, you know?

Who says I want to last?

You're speaking like a true masochist.

You obviously have the vocation.

Definitely not a masochist, on the contrary.

You know...

...as long as I'm drunk...

...I'm as happy as a lark!

And I play better too!

I mean, the piano is like the body of a beautiful woman

and I tickle her.

Cut it out!

Speaking of pianos, my half hour of fresh air is up.

I'll go back in to bang out a few more notes.

Otherwise, I won't get paid tonight.

On your feet, then. Up!

You know what, Marc?

The difference between you and me is purely political.

You see, we both play rather well.

But I am the proletarian of the pianoforte

while you are the bourgeois.

You play for the sake of art and you enjoy it.

I play for a living.

It's not the same thing.

My, my! One of your philosophies I wasn't aware of yet!

Actually, I just thought of it. I'm really sharp when I'm drunk.

What was that?

A scream, I'd say.

Who knows, maybe a rape.

I drink to you, deflowered virgin!

Bye, Marc.

- Bye. - Bye.

Five fatal blows, twelve wounds.

Probably from a hatchet or a butcher's cleaver.

The victim seems to be about 35 to 40 years old.

She has abrasions and cuts all over her body.

So, you're a foreigner, then?

Yes, I was born in London

but I lived in America for several years before coming here.

And what are you doing in Italy?

I'm a pianist. Jazz. I teach here at the conservatory.

- I teach jazz. - And you play the piano, right?

So, in that case you don't have a job, right?

- I told you, I'm a pianist. - Yeah, sure.

So, then, that's your only job.

Playing an instrument isn't a job? What is it, a joke?

What are you saying? No, I would never say that.

In fact, in my family I have a cousin who plays the...

What?

The violin.

Strange paintings, huh?

Yes.

Did you move, change or take anything from here?

Are you crazy? We're very careful not to move anything.

Why? Is there something wrong?

No, no. I mean... It's just an impression.

Sorry, you were asking?

Ah yes, the victim. After you.

You knew her, didn't you?

I already told you, I live upstairs. Her name was Helga Ulmann.

- Coffee? - Thank you.

Tell me about the raincoat the murderer was wearing.

Wait a minute. I didn't say the murderer was wearing it.

All I said was that I noticed a man with a dark raincoat

walking away from the building.

Good evening. Hi, everybody!

Get lost! You can't come in here.

Why not? With a crime like this, the first thing you do is call the press.

Get your hands off me! I told you, you can't come in here!

This is a complex investigation.

Look who's here. Gianna Brezzi.

Yes, Captain.

- Who told you about the crime? - I have my sources.

The victim was rather famous, even in Italy.

In fact, she gave an important lecture this very afternoon.

What did this famous lady do?

She was a sort of magician.

She could read people's minds.

Well, I never! I thought she was...

You! Yes, I'm sure of it. You're the one who saw the whole thing.

The eyewitness extraordinaire!

Fabbroni, get me Mingozzi. I have something to tell him.

- Then call the station. - Yes, Captain.

Why must I go to the police station? I told you everything I know!

Your statement has to be typed up officially.

You know how it is with bureaucracy.

All your details are needed: place and date of birth, passport, etc.

My head is splitting!

And you, what the hell are you doing here at this hour?

I'm on my way home after four hours at the police station.

Oh yeah, right.

I forgot about the murder.

How did it go?

What kind of question is that? How do you suppose it went?

Come on, I'll walk you home.

No, thank you. I can make it by myself.

I can make it, I said!

Oh, my poor head, my head.

Tell me, how much did you drink?

Who knows? Who can remember anything about this night?

But I'm sure it must have been a lot.

Why not come to my place for coffee?

No thanks. Thanks anyway. I'd rather sleep in my own bed.

Bye.

Carlo? Carlo?

Did you see that man leaving the building?

A man?

Yeah, a man in a dark raincoat. Right after the murder.

I think he's the killer.

Wait, wait...

Yes, I saw him for a second from the back.

Listen, Carlo. Something very strange happened to me,

and I don't know if it's true or not

but when I went into that woman's apartment the first time

I thought I saw a painting.

But then a few minutes later it was gone.

What happened to me?

To you, nothing. But maybe the painting was made to disappear

because it represented something important.

- What did you say? - It represented something important!

No, I don't think so.

If I remember well, it was some sort of composition of faces.

It was very unusual.

Maybe you've seen something so important that you don't realise.

I'm just trying to understand, because...

You know, sometimes, what you actually see and what you imagine...

...get mixed up in your memory like a cocktail...

...where you can no longer distinguish one flavour from another.

But I'm telling you the truth!

No, Marc. You think you're telling the truth,

but in fact you're only telling your version of the truth.

It happens to me all the time.

That man there with the raincoat, that's Giordani.

He's a professor in psychiatry and a parapsychology enthusiast.

A great friend of Helga's. He practically kept her.

The man with the glasses is Mario Bardi.

He's also a clairvoyant and was a good friend of poor Helga.

Let's go.

By the way, I wanted to thank you.

Good to be brought to the attention of murderers!

Come on!

You may not believe me, but I don't have a steady boyfriend right now.

- Me neither. - I should hope not!

- I meant a girlfriend! - That's why you're always so jumpy.

Me jumpy? Oh, please! I'm not jumpy at all.

Yeah, right. Stop fidgeting!

And your hands are shaking. Tell me, what's going on?

How many times must I tell you, I'm an artist?

In case you've forgotten, we artists are very sensitive people.

We don't have elephant hide like you journalists.

Elephant hide? I'm told I have very delicate skin.

You can touch it. Come on, try.

- Yes, not bad. - It's fantastic.

I know how to stop your jumpiness.

What? Here at the cemetery? Are you crazy?

I have other things on my mind. Do you understand?

- Sure, you're scared senseless. - I'm not scared!

Right. You're almost shitting yourself.

And it's all my fault.

I'd like to see him. I'm curious to see him face to face.

You'd be better off returning to England.

I actually decided to stay.

- You just decided? - Yes, maybe.

Anyway, I need to concentrate. I must try to remember.

I'm sure I saw something important that night

but I can't remember what exactly!

Are you driving?

No, Marc, wait! I have to get in this side.

The other door is jammed. Oh, sorry!

Long live Italy!

That seat broke the other day. Is it uncomfortable?

Why don't you help with this murder story?

If you could give me a hand on this scoop,

maybe I can get away from reporting on the environment.

- What have you done? - Nothing.

- You've locked the door! - Why, shouldn't I have?

It jams. We'll need a mechanic to open it.

That's all we need. Damn!

The car's not exactly new, you know?

- Just drive fast, will you? - Why?

I'm a bit claustrophobic.

All right.

Tell me, Enrico, why do Australian boomerang sellers go bankrupt?

I don't know that one.

Because the goods are always returned!

Funny, don't you think?

- Is Carlo not in yet? - He never shows up before 10:00.

Can you tell him I was looking for him? I need to speak to him urgently.

Everything in the house. Let's hide it all.

No, no one will ever find out.

We must forget.

We must forget everything.

Forever.

Forever. That's all.

She was pointing towards the middle of the sixth or seventh row.

And you can't remember anything? Not even a face?

No, that's impossible.

All the lights were on us and the stalls were in darkness.

I must say, I do seem to recall, while Helga was speaking,

I noticed some kind of movement

in the sixth or seventh or maybe the eighth row.

- I can't say exactly. - What kind of movement?

Sorry, what did you say? Could you repeat that, please?

I said what kind of movement?

It's hard to say.

As if someone had stood up and left the row,

but it was just an impression more than anything else.

With the lights on, we couldn't see anything.

You see? You're not jumpy any more.

You can even button your shirt without shaking at all.

Look, will you cut it out about being jumpy?

It's a question of my nature. It's my artistic temperament.

Why did you become a pianist?

Well, my psychiatrist would say it's because I hated my father...

...so when I press the keys, it's like smashing his teeth.

Actually, it's because I love music.

What about you? Why are you a journalist?

Because I like working.

I think a woman has to be independent to be equal to a man.

Oh, God, let's not start on gender equality!

It's all rubbish, not true at all.

Men and women are different.

Women are delicate... Fragile.

What? Delicate?

Fragile?

- Why are you clearing the table? - Come here.

- What's this? - Arm wrestling.

Come on. Then we'll see who's delicate!

- Don't be ridiculous! - Are you afraid?

That was cheating, completely. You can't start before I'm ready!

- It doesn't count. Play by the rules. - You too!

We do it properly or not at all. Still want to try?

Will you play by the rules without cheating? Properly?

- Are you sure? - Yes!

Let's go.

Both elbows on the table, no sudden movements.

- I know the rules! - We'll start when I say, OK?

Ready? Steady... steady, wait...

One...

...two...

...three...

Go!

That doesn't count either! You lifted your elbow off the table.

That's a dirty old trick!

- You're a cheat! It's so ridiculous! - You're right.

- You go around challenging people! - You're big and macho. I surrender.

So, where are we going now?

Where are we going?

I'm not going anywhere with you.

If anyone is going anywhere, I'm going by myself.

Oh, sure, but where?

I'm off to see a friend, if you must know. I have things to do.

I can't sit here all day arm wrestling just to keep you amused!

I'm on to something important, but I'm not saying what. Clear?

Listen, don't be angry now. Why can't I go with you?

- We started this together, right? - No.

Statistics prove you can't work seriously with liberated women.

So, whether you like it or not, I'm going on my own.

Have it your own way, stupid!

I'll do my own investigation, and we'll see who comes out on top.

What's that? Another arm wrestling match?

Yes, sort of.

So be it. Wait!

You didn't tell me when I'll see you again.

Never.

Oh, really?

How about later tonight?

- When will you be back? - I don't know.

I'll try to call you.

OK. But I'll tell you again that I don't...

If you don't want to, just say so.

I was just trying to say that I don't know what time I'll be back.

All right.

Bye.

Tell me the truth.

Do you find me so unattractive?

No.

So, what's wrong, then? My scent? What?

Nothing at all, why?

Oh, nothing. I was just wondering.

Yes?

Excuse me, I'm Marc Daly. I'm a friend of Carlo's.

Oh, do come in, Marc.

I know you by name. Carlo mentions you very often.

You're an engineer, aren't you?

No, I'm a pianist. I teach at the conservatory.

A pianist? Please, come in.

What can I offer you? Coffee, a drink of something?

No, thank you, nothing. I just came to see Carlo.

He wasn't at the Blue Bar, so...

A drink? Is this all right?

It's Coca Cola! I'll just make some coffee...

No, please. Don't go to any trouble. I just came to see Carlo.

I'll call him, then.

I'm so absent-minded.

I'm sorry, Carlo is not here. He's gone out.

But come here, Marc. Come and talk to me.

Take a seat.

Tell me about yourself. How long have you been an engineer?

- No. Madam, I'm a pianist. - And I'm an actress.

Or rather I was an actress. Look at those photos.

What do you think? Was I good or not?

Yes, I'm sure. I just wish I'd had the opportunity to...

Never mind. When I married Carlo's father, Carlo wasn't yet born.

He made me give up my career.

Now, it's all gone.

It's not important now. I console myself playing the piano.

- Do you play the piano? - The piano? I'm a pianist.

Oh, what a magnificent combination! A piano playing engineer!

Could we play a duet?

No, unfortunately I don't have time.

I really need to see Carlo urgently. Do you know where he is?

He went to see a friend.

Someone called Massimo Ricci. 28 Via Crescenzio.

Sorry, my mistake.

I'm looking for a friend, Carlo.

His mother gave me this address. Is he here?

Yes, do come in.

Thank you.

You don't know how ill he's been. I wish I knew what's come over him.

He's still very sick.

See. He's been like this for over an hour.

He started drinking, as usual.

Maybe more than usual. Then he started talking nonsense.

Look who's here.

You caught me red-handed.

Good old Carlo.

He's not only a drunk but a faggot as well.

Surprise!

I don't give a damn about your preferences!

But I already told you, you won't last long if you drink so much.

And I told you, who wants to last?

The liver is gone, and so are the intestines.

Come on, try to get up. Put your head under a cold tap. It will do you good.

Then I'll take you out for some fresh air.

I love that guy. But he's always so sad.

He drank a lot today.

Then he started talking nonsense. I think he's cracking up.

He said he wanted to go away. Then he wanted to make love.

Then he wanted to sleep.

He kept getting worse.

And then he started to scream. I was about to call a doctor.

Would you like some coffee?

No, it's very late already.

I need to go, or I'll be thrown out of the Blue Bar for good.

Are you coming with me?

Yes.

Bye.

Sorry... for what happened before.

Don't be silly. Call me.

Goodbye.

- Why did you come looking for me? - I wanted to ask you something.

Remember the other night, the night of the murder?

I said I thought I saw a painting in that house.

But a few moments later it was gone, remember?

- Vaguely. - Do you have a light?

You said that maybe the painting represented something important.

Then you said a lot of things about memory and truth.

Things I didn't understand at the time.

Yeah.

I remember something a bit muddled

but I can't remember what I wanted to say.

I was probably talking nonsense. I was really drunk.

Listen to me, Marc.

Why don't you just pack up and clear out?

What are you doing messing with this business anyway?

Why are you aggravating a madman? A maniac?

Anyone committing such a monstrous crime

has to be a maniac.

If you must know, I'm attracted to madmen.

I can't help it. I have a morbid fascination for them.

But wait, wait. Listen.

That painting was definitely there. I didn't imagine that.

And I feel there's something important about it.

So now... it's become a kind of challenge with my memory.

- A challenge. - Right, a challenge.

I challenge myself too, all the time.

And I always lose. But this is different for you.

If you lose, apart from the challenge,

you'll end up getting murdered yourself!

...police have set up several checkpoints.

There's been no further news

on the murder of German mind reader, Helga Ulmann.

Police are concentrating their investigation

on a person seen leaving the scene of the crime that very night.

According to an unofficial newspaper report,

the eyewitness can identify the mysterious night visitor.

Carlo should be careful.

If they find out he's a good pianist, they'll get rid of him for sure!

Whoever you are, please help me!

Marc? It's me, Gianna! What are you talking about?

You won't get away.

I'll kill you sooner or later.

Hello?

- What is it? Hello? Hello? - Listen, Gianna!

There's somebody in the house. He spoke to me. He wants to kill me!

- Should I call the police? - Wait a second.

Hello?

No doubt about it. That's the same song I heard last night.

And if I remember correctly

you said Helga talked of a children's song in the theatre.

That's right, and this song may well be the recurring theme of the crimes.

You see, we're starting to form what I presume to be the right profile.

The murderer is a paranoid schizophrenic.

Anyone who kills with such a frenzy

surely does so in a state of temporary insanity.

In everyday life, this person could appear quite normal.

Like you or me.

When he kills, he must recreate these specific conditions

which trigger the release of all his madness.

A particular time and day of the week, even clothing.

Something that recreates the same images

that frame a context that provoked trauma in the past.

I'd like to add something that is somewhat less scientific

to this business of the children's song.

If you recall, as well as a child singing, Helga also mentioned a house.

And I remember having read a strange book, quite some time ago.

I think the title was "The Modern Ghost and the Black Legends of Today".

The author spoke of a haunted house

where the neighbours could sometimes hear singing, like this little song.

The book implied an act of bloodshed was once committed in that house.

Do you have that book?

No, but I think you could easily find it in the folklore library.

The Modern Ghost and the Black Legends of Today

"THE HOUSE OF THE SCREAMING CHILD

"In a house near Rome, a strange thing happened.

"One night, a hunter woke before dawn

"and heard a child singing in a high shrill voice.

"Soon after, the voice stopped and he heard screaming and weeping."

No, nothing.

No news other than what Bardi gave me. No name, no address.

So, what are you going to do now?

I'd like to contact the author.

Can you write down her name? Her name is Amanda Righetti.

Got it.

What the hell! What are you doing? Why did you put the phone right here?

- What's the matter? - Nothing, listen.

Will you try to find out her address? It's important.

She should know where this house is.

She probably knows other useful stuff too.

Listen, I'll call you back. I can't hear a thing in this bar.

- What did you say? - The address! Oh, this is impossible!

Can't you wait until I'm done? It's like a sauna in here!

- When you come, remember the birds. - Don't worry, Miss Amanda.

I don't understand why you keep these strange lndian blackbirds.

I feel less lonely. They imitate things, the television, our voices.

Oh, it's like having a madman around the house!

I'd be scared.

- See you tomorrow. - See you, Elvira.

Elvira!

The child.

The house.

The ghost of the house.

You have two choices. You can either flee to Lebanon, quickly...

Or I can try to find out what's going on as soon as possible.

How long will the police take to find me?

Did you take a taxi to Amanda's?

No, a rental car. Why haven't you fixed this seat?

- I feel silly sitting so low down! - I forgot. Sorry.

They'll find you by your fingerprints.

I bet you left them all over the house, right?

It would take another Florence flood

to wipe them clean!

Say they find the body tomorrow morning.

They'll check the prints against the usual suspects.

It'll take them a while to connect both murders,

but in the end they'll be after you.

You only have a couple of days. It's not long.

No, it's not. But first, I have to find this.

What a nice house. It looks strange. Do you know where it is?

I wouldn't have to look for it if I knew!

- So, what are you going to do? - I'm not telling you.

It seems like everything here has ears.

How could the killer know I was coming here?

I have no idea.

One thing's for sure. I'm not telling anyone my next move.

This is so unbelievable! You're so nice!

Hey, darling, I hope you don't think that I'm...

Listen, I'm doing this to protect you, to keep you out of danger.

- I promise, as soon as I... - Blah, blah, blah!

I swear, as soon as I discover something, I'll tell you.

Why don't we stop this stupid childish competition?

We should be working together.

You know, two brains are better than one.

Just where do you women keep your brains?

Let's be honest. Women have brute force,

you beat us at arm wrestling, but men have the monopoly on intelligence.

- Have I made myself clear? - Yes, very clear.

At last.

A little drink?

I have Anisette,

Sambuca, Caffe Borghetti.

Don't you have anything less sickly?

Whisky? Cognac?

Yes, that's better.

We'd be more comfortable at my place, don't you think?

Maybe, but we're fine here.

Yes, but I think it would be better at my place.

OK, let's go.

Who do you think you are, idiot?

I've never met a man as arrogant as you!

You must have been spoilt rotten by women!

Anyway, it's because I don't have a boyfriend right now. That's all!

You've got such a big head.

- Oh, damn. - What's wrong?

Guess.

Yes, it's a dracaena indivisa.

I'm sure of it. An exotic tree that grows in the Canaries.

It's highly delicate. It suffers if exposed to cold.

We've never imported it. It's very rare in or around the city.

- No, sir, never handled it myself. - Thanks.

No, never.

- Yes. - Are you sure?

Absolutely. But it was a long time ago.

I remember because I'd just opened. I ordered some from the Canaries.

Unfortunately, most died. The climate here isn't right for them.

I had lots of complaints. I never ordered them again.

- Who did you sell them to? - I'll check.

I'll look up the old invoices. Why do you care?

I'm an architect. It's for an environmental study.

Well, let's see what we can find.

Where's my bottle? Spit out my bottle, for Christ's sake! Damn you.

Captain, finally! I've been looking for you for an hour!

What do you want? Does no one check these machines?

They do, but they steal the drinks.

Of course! This place is full of thieves!

- Sorry, sir, but you're not thinking. - Not you, idiot.

So, are you doing overtime?

Yes. The strike's been called off for now.

Our requests are examined by the Ministry.

- But we're planning a sit-in. - What are you planning?

A protest sit-in. We all gather outside in the courtyard

and stay there for one, two, four hours...

- What did you want to tell me before? - I almost forgot.

The chief is here and he insists on speaking to you.

Oh, crap!

Hello? Is that Professor Giordani?

This is Marc Daly. I need to talk to you. It's very important.

No, I'd like to see you right now, if possible.

Amanda Righetti was murdered.

Her arm was out to the side and her finger was pointing at the wall.

It didn't look natural to me.

It was as if she was trying to point something out.

Do you think they've discovered the body by now?

Yes.

Maybe the pointing finger is a figment of your imagination.

I'll go over there and take a look. You never know.

FOR SALE TO LET

I'm just the caretaker. The house belonged to Carl Schwartz.

- Where is he now? - He died.

He was a German writer, an odd sort of fellow.

He bought the place in '68, I think.

Before then it had been empty for a long time.

People used to say it was haunted by ghosts.

Schwartz never heard the rumours. He just thought the price was right.

Knowing him, he'd have bought it with the ghosts.

- And who lived there before? - I don't know. I came here in '67.

This writer, Schwartz. Do you know how he died?

An accident, poor fellow. He fell out of a window.

I'm the one who found her, you know?

This morning, very early, around 8:00.

I come every morning to clean the house.

I could have died of shock!

The police kept me for hours asking all sorts, wanting to know everything.

But what could I tell them? What do I know?

It hasn't been half an hour since they took out the body!

Poor Amanda. Who could have done that?

A maniac, who else? It's always a maniac and they never catch them!

Where was the body?

In the bathroom.

Come, I'll show you.

Look at all this blood. It's everywhere.

I'm going to clean up a bit.

I leave before it gets dark. I'm not staying here alone!

Excuse me, I want to at least clean these marks off.

Excuse me.

Hello?

Oh, it's you, Francesca.

Oh, if you only knew what I've been through.

No, no. They've gone.

Yes, they took her away.

Yes, they questioned me. It was never-ending!

A big man with a moustache said I was an important witness,

that I could help him. I know quite a bit.

Of course I told him everything!

Oh, don't worry, I'll take the 6:30 bus...

IT WAS...

What are you doing? Why are you running the hot water?

I just wanted to find out who murdered Amanda.

With hot water?

Yes, with hot water.

Do you know if the police found anything?

Just a little doll.

- Anything else? - I heard them mentioning a child.

Of course.

A child.

That's right.

A child.

My daughter will go with you. I don't have time right now.

- There's no rush to return the keys. - OK. Thank you.

Olga!

Come back this minute!

Come on!

- What is it? - You little witch.

I told you not to do that again!

Now off you go!

- What did you do? - I didn't do anything.

Don't worry, my father's just a little crazy.

Bye.

Go home. I'll return the keys later.

- Be careful! - Why?

- There are ghosts in there! - What ghosts?

I don't know, but everyone around here says so.

Bye.

Mr Daly!

- Mr Daly! - Yes?

Thank goodness! We didn't see you come back.

- Anything wrong? - No, I was about to leave.

The lights were cut off a couple of years ago.

No one was living here.

What happened to your forehead?

It's nothing, just a scratch. A piece of glass fell on my head.

I warned you to be careful.

Giordani.

- Hello, Gianna? - Hi Marc. Having fun?

I'm having a ball. I finished two crossword puzzles.

Well, I have a tough puzzle to solve here.

They killed Giordani not long ago.

The neighbours called the police. They heard screaming.

- What happened there? - Nothing, it's just a scratch.

Listen.

Seriously, I have to admit I don't know what's going on right now.

This son of a bitch knows everything! He knows every move in advance.

Sorry, but I don't remember where you said I should flee to?

- Lebanon. - Yeah, right.

Lebanon.

But I'd have to fly to get there and I'm scared of flying.

It's nothing to be nervous about.

Just think you'll be landing soon, one way or another.

Thank you.

How about we take the car and drive to Spain?

We? You mean that I can come too?

- Yes, if you'd like to. - Of course I'd like to!

We'll have a fantastic holiday!

Sun, sea, bullfights, parties, flamenco... How does it sound?

Sure, of course. I suggested it, after all.

I don't know about you but I'm on the verge of a breakdown.

There's no point staying here and talking about it.

Come on. Let's not waste any time. You go back home and pack.

I'll be back in an hour!

We'll have to rent a car, because mine isn't good for long trips.

I know.

I love you!

And who's this?

An old girlfriend. Her name is Carol.

- From Rome? - She's American. She lives in Paris.

You used to go for vamps, then? You like super sexy women.

Hello? Good evening. This is Marc Daly.

- Oh, the engineer. - No, the pianist. Remember?

Could I speak to Carlo? Is he home?

He just went out. Would you like to come here and wait for him?

We could chat. Time flies when you have company.

Besides, maybe you didn't know, but I used to be an actress.

- What an idiot. - I could recite... What did you say?

Nothing, sorry. Good evening.

Why didn't I notice that before?

Gianna - I'm at 24 Via Susa. Marc x

I was right.

There's no window.

Great!

Forget it. It's too late.

What happened?

I found your note and I hurried here.

I saw a reddish light in one of the windows.

So I looked for you. You'd passed out, lying in the flames.

You know, you're lucky to be alive.

A few more minutes and you'd have been roast chicken!

Damn it! It's all lost.

The body, the walled-in room and that picture on the wall.

Yes, 24 Via Susa. My name is Gianna Brezzi, I'm a reporter.

Yes, of course it's urgent. Try and hurry up.

Yes, hello, Fire Department? I want to report a fire at 24 Via Susa.

What's the phone number here?

831-4726.

Please hurry, the fire has been burning for a while.

I want to know how it started in the first place.

Well, if there are ghosts...

- Who gave you this? - I did it.

That's impossible! You couldn't have seen it!

Who gave it to you? Don't lie to me!

Leave her alone. She made it up. She's a strange child.

If you could just see what she does to animals! She likes the macabre.

That may be true, but she couldn't possibly have imagined this!

It's identical to the one in the house!

I saw it at school.

Good girl. Now tell me where you got this. Just tell me.

One day, as a punishment, they made me clean up the archives.

There were lots of drawings, and in a '50s file,

there was one just like that.

- Where do you go to school? - The Leonardo da Vinci School.

LEONARDO DA VINCI STATE MIDDLE SCHOOL

HEADMASTER

SECRETARY

ARCHIVES

There must be a million of them!

They're all divided by subject and academic year.

DRAWINGS

Academic Year 1951-52

Academic Year 1950-1951

- What is it? - Didn't you hear that?

No, what was it?

I don't know. I can't describe it.

You keep at it. I'm going to take a look.

What do you say, I call the police and tell them we're here?

Yeah, you're right.

Gianna.

Gianna!

Marc, help me.

Gianna, darling!

Stay calm, darling.

All this for some shitty article!

You know who it is?

Yes, I know.

I found the picture.

Did you get that? It's not far, you'll see it right away.

The name is over the door. Leonardo da Vinci.

Don't hide.

It's no use hiding.

I know who you are now.

I read your name.

Carlo.

I got here too late. What a shame.

So, now what are you going to do?

Kill you.

And I'm sorry because I like you.

But I have to do it.

I told you to stay out of it.

Pack up and clear out, I said!

Why didn't you listen to me?

Because you're stupid and stubborn.

Don't you realise it's all your fault?

You wouldn't let it go.

If you hadn't got involved, if you hadn't stuck your damn nose in...!

You'll pay for this.

He could have killed you!

- Over there! The wall! - Stop or I'll shoot!

- She's out of danger. - When will she wake up?

Not until tomorrow. The operation was difficult, but successful.

She's a strong girl, don't worry.

No, that's impossible.

He was with me when Helga was killed.

He saw the killer too. It couldn't have been him!

It had nothing to do with him. So why?

POLICE INVESTIGATION

Maybe that painting was made to disappear

because it represented something important.

Something so important that you wouldn't even realise it.

Important.

That painting...

A mirror.

What an idiot. It was just a mirror.

There never was a painting there.

What I saw was a reflection in the mirror.

I saw the face of the murderer.

Damn you... Damn you!

You caused my son's death! He had nothing to do with any of this!

He was...

He was only trying to protect me.

He never hurt anyone!

What do you know about what happened?

Now, don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to you.

It's all right. I'll take you to the clinic myself.

No, I told you, I'm not going back there again.

I told you. You can't force me again.

But it's for your own good, dear. You heard what the doctor said.

No.