So Sweet, So Dead (1972) - full transcript

Photograph lots of close-ups.

- Found anything yet?
- Just a collection of compacts.

No fingerprints, inspector.

Naturally...

And no other leads?

Here's the permission
to remove the body.

- So early?
- The examining magistrate's in a hurry.

Alright.

The hearse is here,
inspector.

- Inspector...
- Just carry on.

- Are you finished here?
- Yes, couldn't find anything.



They were slashed with a blade...
a very sharp one.

In the area of the mouth
and the chin...

there are marks of a hand,
like a vice.

I believe the deed
happened like this:

He must have
grabbed her like this...

- and then the mortal cut.
- And the other injuries?

A series of uncontrolled stabs.
But not to the living person...

but to
the dead body.

To stab someone like that
you must hate him...

or be a maniac.

Photographs were found next to the woman,
showing her in the arms of a man.

A lover, presumably.

- His face was made unrecognisable.
- It's possible.

As soon as you're finished, doctor,
I'd like to have your report.



Certainly, inspector.
In full detail.

Shall we go?

I examined the photos
left beside the body.

If we figure out
why the man's face was erased...

- we might have a lead.
- Why not?

The face was scratched away
with a razor or something similar.

We could blow up the photos to see
if there are any moles or other blemishes.

But then what?

Should we ask every male in town
to strip for us?

I'd take a look around
the environment of the victim.

Right. But unfortunately,
that's a very closed world.

She was the wife
of a general.

You think her friends will tell us
with whom she went to bed?

And what do you
intend to do now?

I'll throw out the net...

and hope we'll catch
all the right fishes.

You said, at the day in question,
you had some tests done at the hospital.

You're just wasting
your time with me.

I don't go to whores,
and I pity the men who do. Poor fellows...

Maybe you hate them.
Isn't that right, Cleopatra?

All men should be brothers.
I really don't hate anybody.

And why do you keep saying "murderer"?
Could be a lady.

And what would you be?

One who doesn't get on anybody's tits.
On the contrary...

- Her husband, a general, untouchable.
- Be quiet.

Those losers.
It's always us.

Look who's coming.

- Cleopatra, how's the Pharaoh?
- Good one.

- I got rid of the journalists.
- They're always expecting a miracle.

- If they were in our place...
- Found out anything?

No, these folks belong to
a whole different circle.

Well, I think it's no use,
but keep interrogating them.

- I'm going home.
- Alright, inspector.

Call me if you need me.

The idiot's leaving...
And we're supposed to spend the night here?

- Are you paying for the business I lose?
- Calm down.

Now we'll type up
a nice report.

After that you may all go back
to your honourable jobs.

His job
ain't too shabby either...

What's bothering you?

Try to stay calm.

Relax...

and stop worrying
so much.

Yes, it's easy to say that.
This is worse than the mob.

Just unbelievable.

- No trace of her lover.
- What did you expect?

And who should name him?
The betrayed husband? The parents?

Think of the scandal.

The problems are always
for those left behind.

Like me, for instance.

The papers are attacking us,
and the commissioner gave me hell.

"Bring me some proof,
and do it quick.

Try harder, Capuana.
But be very careful.

Don't step on anybody's feet,
I'm begging you."

- That's the motto.
- Do it. Make him happy.

- What can it cost you?
- And how should I do that?

Every step I take
is wrong.

Today, everything's different.
I can't question people anymore.

That's the
magistrate's job now.

If you catch one,
he won't tell...

or shows up
with his lawyer in tow.

If they don't say anything,
there's nothing I can do.

Whoever the murderer is...

how's it possible
he didn't leave any traces behind?

He's very smart
and cunning.

But these photos of the naked victims
and their lovers...

they have some purpose.
They're our lead, our only one.

Do you think
he's from around?

I think so, yes.

He acted very skilfully.

Didn't you say we have
to leave here earlier?

Unfortunately, yes.

You know how it is
with my husband.

When he organises a bridge evening,
he's furious when I'm late.

I better get going then.

But you should
hurry too, Serena.

First I have to make myself
presentable, Gianni.

To me,
you already are.

Did you know that you look best
when you're naked?

- Didn't anybody tell you yet?
- What's this?

An interrogation?
You want me to confess?

I won't fall for that.

So you have been
told that before.

You don't seem to object,
do you?

Just keep playing
with me.

I'll see you soon.

ANOTHER YOUNG WOMAN
FOUND MASSACRED AT THE BEACH.

ALL POLICEMEN OF THE TOWN
ARE LOOKING FOR LEADS...

THAT MIGHT
CONVICT THE KILLER.

Your panic
is absolutely unjustified.

No one could recognise you
in that photo.

I advice you as your lawyer
to stay calm.

- Let them do their work.
- But somebody knows about Serena and me.

So what?

That inspector
is clever.

He cares about his position
and his career.

Stay calm.
He knows he has to move very carefully.

- With the most guarded discretion.
- But maybe he'll get the wrong ideas.

With a butchered woman,
the first suspect...

- will be the lover or the husband.
- Yes, that's right.

But not in our circles.

The first victim
was the wife of a general.

And the second one, your poor Serena,
she had an important name.

- One of the really important people.
- And now? What should I do?

Go on living
like nothing happened.

And if the inspector
does show up one day...

you call me
right away.

Hello father.

I'm sorry.
I thought you were alone.

We're finished. I was about to leave.
How are you?

- Fine, thanks.
- ls there a problem?

It's not a problem.
We can discuss it later.

Don't take off, alright?

Go and play tennis.
Don't forget the bridge evenings.

Business as usual.
And try to stay calm.

Alright, I'll do my best.
But it's not going be easy...

This second murder
is a carbon copy of the first one.

The murder weapon
was the same, too.

Everything matches
the Fioravanti case.

- Even the method used in killing her.
- And the photos with the lover.

How did
the husband react?

He's in a state
of collapse.

He didn't suspect his wife
to be a whore.

But are you sure he had nothing to do
with the murder of his wife?

Maybe he's just pretending.
Maybe he was out for revenge.

We checked his alibi.
It's all in order.

We're also keeping an eye
on her lover.

We know he consulted
his lawyer...

but nothing else,
no misstep.

It sure would be odd if he'd taken
photographs of himself and his mistress...

and then put them
next to her corpse.

Even if his face was erased.

That's Gastone.

The one who prepares
the cadavers.

He always laughs like that
when he approves of his own work.

Come. Have a look.

You can't see the cut
on her throat anymore.

And also the other injuries.
Look. You too, inspector.

- Look. She's beautiful.
- Gastone is an artist.

A real artist.

With wax and make-up
he makes miracles.

He loves his work.

Now dress her, put her in the coffin,
and set it up in the mortuary.

Her parents will be here in an hour.

How beautiful you are.
Almost prettier than when you were living.

Stop.

- Rewind it a little.
- Why? What did you see, Capuana?

These are only people
we already know.

All of them suspicious.

Go ahead.

Stop. Keep it there.

It's terrible.

Poor Serena, she really
didn't deserve to die like that.

- Such a horrible death.
- That's true.

And her husband,
did you see him?

A broken man.

Considering all the things the
newspapers write, I'm getting nervous, too.

You're nervous?

And why
should you be nervous?

Because the papers say
the killer is a crazed moral avenger...

and it seems only logic to me that...
You catch my drift...?

I don't know
what's there to catch.

He only kills
unfaithful wives.

You're right, Barbara.
You shouldn't be afraid, Franca...

at least as far
as I'm informed.

I don't think that's funny.
First Floriana...

then Serena, and now what?
Who's next?

Nonsense, don't let this get into your head.
Don't meet trouble halfway.

It's about time.
Can't we change the subject?

Good, let's talk
about men.

It's not really worth the risk.
Don't you think?

- Do you?
- Don't you as well?

The husband's ruled out,
and so is the lover.

All in all, Capuana,
we have absolutely nothing.

Well...

That's the way it is,
commissioner.

I have checked
and re-checked.

I could still arrest the husband
if you think it's of any use.

For Heaven's sake.
Anybody, just not the husband.

You know
he's in the public eye.

You see this phone?
It hasn't stop ringing since yesterday.

Many recommendations.
Some real exquisite ones among them.

You have any proof against him?

- Then leave him alone.
- No, no proofs.

He only thought about politics,
and she about love.

The unfortunate truth is that we're sitting
on a barrel of dynamite, my dear Capuana.

One false move
and we all blow.

And to be honest:
I find it pleasant to live in this town.

- And you, my friend?
- Same here.

But I think there's as much rotten
in small towns as there is in big cities.

Wherever they transfer me,
I know what to expect.

Do you have a plan?

The killer knows
the habits of his victims...

so he knows his way around
the rich parts of the town.

- That's where I have to look for him.
- But be careful.

I don't want you to venture
into even higher circles.

No... not here...

Please.

I'm afraid, darling.

I don't like this place.

It's dangerous... all alone out here.
I'm begging you.

But what are you afraid of, my love?
You don't think I'm the killer, do you?

What are you saying?
But why out here in the open?

It's not easy to find an apartment.
And I don't want to go to your place.

If it's about money,
don't worry about it.

Come on,
I'm begging you, let's go.

- But Renata...
- I'm begging you.

- It's you, inspector?
- Don't worry...

I'm not here in an
official capacity, Mr. Gastone.

I was passing by your house and thought
I might have a chat with Gastone...

the right hand
of Casali.

How long have you been working
with the professor?

- Two years. Ever since I got here.
- Very nice.

Very cosy in here.

Yes, please have a seat.

- You were saying?
- I didn't say anything.

- Do you like your work?
- Of course.

Otherwise
I wouldn't do it.

As you wouldn't do yours
if you didn't like it.

Well said.

And what do you do
when you're not working?

I rarely go out.

I take care
of my flowers.

A nice place.
Very well kept.

You live alone?

You want to know
why I'm not married?

No, that's none
of my business.

It's lovely here.

Nice and bright
in here.

- And what's over there?
- The bathroom and the kitchen.

I only have two rooms.

It's not easy for a man of my profession
to find a woman, you know?

Sooner or later
they find out...

about the corpses.

And then it's over
before it even started.

And what is this?

It's a small photo lab.

Well, this is not
a search.

I will go now.

Do you want
to have a look at it?

- If you don't mind.
- I don't.

- I have to tell you something, inspector.
- Go on.

This might sound absurd...

but if you didn't know them,
would you think they're dead?

Look, how beautiful
they are.

More beautiful than alive.
Death cleansed them.

No more traces of sin
or human misery.

And all thanks to me.
That's why I love my work.

- You see? Three Minutes.
- Agostini would have made it faster.

Very funny.

Besides, I'm driving slower
when I'm with you.

- You know what?
- You like me.

Yes, but I also like
school these days.

And public gatherings,
talks with teachers, protests, collectives...

I like collectives too,
but only the ones with you.

You reactionary.
You're a spoiled bourgeois.

Not even shocking current events
shake you.

You mean the maniac?
Who cares about him?

- He's only after the old timers.
- You're right.

But that also affects us.

My parents don't want me
to go out anymore.

I have only five minutes
for you.

You're talking like your father.
You're not a good revolutionary.

I'll stay as long
as you want.

But I didn't come here
to talk about politics.

Yes?
What do you want?

You're mistaken.
This is the residence of the lawyer Santangeli.

Why did you hang up?

Was that the guy who always dials
the wrong number?

Who?
I don't know what you mean, Paolo.

You do know what I mean.
Don't try to make me an idiot.

You think I don't know your latest mistress,
even though she lives next door?

- I'm taking the same liberties as you do.
- Very well.

That was plain enough.
But we shouldn't forget something:

What?

We have
a reputation to lose.

And with that reputation
our wealth, this house and a daughter.

Are you speaking for me
or for you?

For both of us.

Your private life
doesn't interest me.

But I don't want a scandal.

It's strange, this killer...

He's only after...
adulteresses.

So what?
He might rid you of me.

- You would like that, wouldn't you?
- No. Not at this price.

Please do me a favour:
Pay another visit to your mother.

Like you do so often these days.
But this time, you actually go.

You thought about everything,
didn't you?

In my opinion, this solution
is acceptable and elegant.

When all this is over,
you can come back here without fear.

Please do as I tell you, Franca.
You're in danger.

Everything fine at school?

Wonderful flowers,
madam.

- To the envy of my wife.
- Your wife doesn't care about them.

How's your husband?

He doesn't care about anything,
he's not well.

I'll see you in the evening.
At 6 p.m.

The usual place.

No, inspector,
you're following a wrong path.

Gastone is a strange fellow,
but harmless.

He has this morbid passion...
for corpses.

He beautifies and photographs them,
but that's all.

I once knew someone
who would smash valuable vases...

- just so he could fix them again.
- Listen, Capuana.

I know you're desperately trying to catch
the murderer, who will surely kill again...

- but Gastone is not your man.
- How can you be so sure?

Well, I know him very well.

Gastone is not capable
of committing any act of violence.

That's why he always wants
to erase every trace of it.

Professor Casali, I started my career
in Sicily and Sardinia...

where 2 + 2 equals 4.

There, every murder
has a motive.

But what motive is there
for these crimes?

I don't know.

Perhaps it's the work
of a homosexual.

Yes, out of jealousy.

My theory
is supported by the fact...

that all the lovers' faces
have been erased from the photos.

- That's right.
- Or a betrayed husband.

Just think about it:

He kills two, three, four
unfaithful wives...

and then his own wife.

Who would suspect him?

Or maybe
an impotent man.

Impotent men often have a mortal hate
for women they cannot possess.

In this case
we'd have a huge problem:

How should I find an impotent man?
With a newspaper ad?

I have to go.

I promised my wife
to come home for supper.

At least this one time.

Why don't you come to my place
for dinner some time?

Together with your wife,
of course.

- It would be a pleasure.
- Mine too. As soon as this is over.

It's already late.
I must go.

Please...

It's better that way,
my love.

- What's that? You frightened me.
- You're home so late?

You've become unbearable.

When you tried to commit suicide
because of me, as you claimed...

you could at least have done a decent job,
and gone to hell...

instead of staying here,
ruining my life.

- Will I see you in the garden afterwards?
- Why not?

Mother suffers from insomnia
but she'll take her pills...

and 15 minutes later
she's fast asleep.

That's it, kids. Your parents don't
want you to come home so late.

The same old story.
Totally exaggerated.

I'm sorry.
I made a promise to your parents.

All because of that fool.

- Why doesn't he get laid instead of killing?
- He should have group sex.

I'll take you home.

I'm sorry, it's not my fault.

- My best to your mother.
- Shall we go?

At half past ten in the garden.

- Yes or no? And don't think about it.
- You know it's yes.

Since day one.

- Isn't that your neighbour?
- Her husband's a cripple...

and has to go on crutches.
She has a lover...

they say.
And not the first one.

At least she has the good taste
not to bring him to her house.

Will you walk me to the gate?

Where are you?

Make sure you get all the details.
Get a wide-shot from every angle.

And lots of close-ups.

The usual photos were left
next to the body, of course.

- An accident, I'd say.
- Agreed.

Search all his papers.

Always the same
technique.

Is there any evidence
of a struggle?

She was taken by surprise,
and tried desperately to resist.

Just like the others.

Three murders
in a very short time.

The similar techniques
point to the same killer.

All killings
seem to be unmotivated.

The work of the police
in a case like...

Faster, Paolo.

You're moving too slow.

Move, move.

- I'm coming. Can I go?
- Go ahead.

Gianni, you take over.

- Have you been waiting for long?
- A couple minutes.

- Have you heard?
- Read it in the papers.

- It's terrible.
- I saw it all.

- What?
- It was so horrible.

I was about to go back
into the house.

He was standing by the pool.
I saw him stabbing her.

It was a man
wearing a mask.

But... you saw him
kill her?

Yes. I was paralysed.
I was frightened stiff.

But did you see the killer?

Did you recognise him?

It was too dark.
And he wore a stocking over his head.

You think he saw you too?

- He turned around to me.
- Come on, let's go.

- We should tell your dad about this.
- I'll talk to him.

I told him I'd go study
at Paola's.

- Would you come with me?
- Of course.

- You want me to collect you later?
- No, my house is not far from here.

- Which floor?
- Top floor.

You're going away?
What's wrong?

Grandma called.
She suffered a relapse.

Again?
When will you be back?

I don't know, Bettina.
Depends on her state.

I'll call you as soon as I arrive
to let you know.

- Last time you stayed for a week.
- Yes, let's hope for the best.

I have to go now,
or I'll miss my train.

- I'm taking the sleeping car.
- And daddy? Does he know you're leaving?

Naturally.
He was busy with a client.

But he promised to come
to the station to say goodbye.

Do you have anything to tell me?

Have a good trip.

- Send Grandma my love.
- Of course. Goodbye.

DEAD WOMAN
IN THE SLEEPING CAR.

THE MANIAC
HAS KILLED AGAIN.

CITY IN FEAR.

PANIC SPREADS:
EVERYBODY SEES THE KILLER.

POLICE RECEIVES NUMEROUS CALLS.
A STORM OF ANONYMOUS LETTERS.

WILL THE KILLER STRIKE AGAIN?

I preferred to come here
on my own free will.

My daughter
is still in shock.

Unfortunately, she heard it on the radio
that her mother was killed.

Just like the others.

I understand.

I'm at your disposal.
What do you want to know?

You're a lawyer.

You know that I have to ask you
some unpleasant questions.

Naturally, inspector.

Please treat me
like everybody else.

There'll be fewer misunderstandings
if we're frank.

Your first question
might be:

"Mr. Santangeli,
did you get on that train?"

Indeed, that's it.

I didn't get on.

I just saw her
at the very last moment.

Franca was standing
by the window.

I barely managed
to reach for her hand...

and to wish her
a good trip.

Did you see anybody you know
at the station?

But who could tell?

If someone doesn't intend to find an alibi,
he won't pay attention.

Besides,
I don't have a motive.

There's no life insurance,
no inheritance...

And I don't even
use a razor to shave.

But you did forget
an important motive:

The revenge
of a betrayed husband.

You're an old man,
my dear inspector.

We live in different times now.
Franca cheated on me, and I knew about it.

And my wife knew
that I'm unfaithful, too.

We live in a time
where married couples...

are looking for other couples
with newspaper ads...

to swap wives.

- Do you find that cynical?
- Where were you after your wife departed?

After the departure
of the train?

Please treat me like everybody else.
Don't beat about the bush.

Why don't you ask me: "Where were you
when your wife was murdered?"

Alright.

Then I'll ask
what you wanted to be asked:

"Where were you
when your wife was murdered?"

You should ask that
your commissioner.

I was killing him
at the hunt club...

in a bridge tournament,
of course.

I guess we're done
with the interview, aren't we?

That's right.
You can go.

You want me to say it again?
I didn't call him in.

He came
on his own accord.

I want to be frank
with you, Capuana.

We've known each other for a long time.
That's why I don't blame you.

But get into your head
that the fuse is burning.

- This could blow us to pieces.
- Damn it.

- The lawyer wasn't at the club.
- I know what I'm doing.

I can't explain my motives
to you.

You better go and find out
who his new mistress is.

And don't cause me
any more problems.

You want me to leave so you can
pass the case on to someone else?

Don't be ridiculous.

You can't give up now.
I know it's a dirty story.

You're the chief of the
criminal investigation division...

and you have
my utmost trust.

Whenever I think
I found the answer...

there's still
something missing.

Don't lose heart,
and continue your investigation.

This damn maniac
must make a mistake some day.

Perhaps.

But he hasn't made
the slightest mistake yet.

Without a doubt, he's very intelligent.

He appointed himself the moral avenger
of the upper class.

He knows
all their secrets...

all their lovers,
and where they meet.

He must be one of them.
That's all we know.

That's not enough, Capuana.
We have to act faster.

We have to catch him quick
if we don't want to get fried.

Giannina,
you're not happy.

But you think you are.

In fact, you're afraid.

- Afraid of a man who's threatening you.
- What man?

Your husband, Giannina.

For your own good:
Don't drive him too far.

Stop it, mother.

Your husband, Renata,
he trusted you.

But now he's in doubt.
He's gone away, or pretends he is.

In any case, you're alone tonight,
and without protection.

Stay here, my dear.
Don't go home.

You live too isolated.

Mother, your cards
are getting on my nerves.

I see it perfectly clear.

Renata loves the danger,
just like me.

After all, it's the danger
that gives an adventure its flavour.

- Is he gone?
- Yes, he left yesterday.

Aren't you in the mood
for a little night stroll?

Why don't you
come over?

I already told you I can't relax there.
Someone might see us.

But who could possibly
see you?

And if' your husband
Walks in all 0f a sudden?

No, he's not the type
for surprises.

I'm expecting you, dear.
Come on over.

I'm dying to
make love to you.

- Come on, don't keep me in suspense.
- I want you too.

See you soon.

Renata, it's me.
Open the door.

You're leaving so early?

I just came home.

You've been up
all night?

I understand.
Another murder...

Who is it this time?

Here, read it.

Renata too.

It's horrible.

Now there are five.

Did you read this?
They're attacking the police.

I read it.
And others will follow.

Next they'll claim
we're on the side of the opposition.

Why are they making
a political affair out of this?

Because two of the husbands
are in politics.

And the scandal
hurts them.

Why won't you
give all this up, darling?

My father offered you
a good position in his firm.

Let them go to hell.

- Why don't you accept his offer?
- You know that's not for me.

I'm a policeman.

What would I do
among refrigerators?

When I was transferred here some years ago,
I thought I had found some peace.

Remember?

A lovely town.

Surrounded by green.

A low crime rate.

Only a few
small-time crooks.

And then suddenly, within two months:
The apocalypse.

Hello? Capuana speaking.

What?

And the address, sergeant?

- I'll come right away.
- What happened?

The maniac called us.

Maybe we've got him.

Open up.

In the name of the law.

- Don't shoot. I'm unarmed.
- Inside.

Why did you call us?

Why?

I'm tired of killing.

You see?
This is my work.

All these whores.

What know why I did it?

In the presence of a magistrate,
at the station.

But of course.

I'm the man
you were looking for.

Tell me the truth:
I gave you a hard fight.

If I hadn't turned myself in,
you would have never caught me.

I have a diabolic mind.

Do you know
how I chose my victims?

- Take him away.
- Don't give yourself credit.

You never would have
found me on your own.

He's a publicity seeker.

Maybe it appears so.
But I set the whole thing up.

And I hope
it works out.

I chose someone who is
the exact opposite of the killer.

Hoping the real one will fall for it.
Isn't that right?

Right. If we credit
the murders to a half-wit...

the killer feels insulted,
and will come out of his hiding.

Yes, this is an
interesting experiment.

- But the magistrate...?
- It will take him a few days...

to discover that he can only
charge the man with misrepresentation.

Meanwhile I hope that
the culprit gives himself away.

Alright, Capuana.
I hope so too.

I just want you
to be very careful.

- Because of the killer?
- No, because of the press.

They're waiting downstairs
for the usual press conference.

Good luck in the lion's den.

But this time
it'll be different.

- Where is the monster now?
- With the magistrate.

What's his name?

It's all on the photos
we gave you.

- What did he say when he was arrested?
- That he's tired of killing.

The he boasted
with his diabolical mind.

Are you sure
he's the culprit?

This is what we found in his house:
A pair of gloves...

a hat, a knife
and a black mask.

You have
any other proof?

Of course we also recapitulated
his life during the last few months.

But the preliminary arrest
can only be prolonged for two days.

I want to make one thing clear:
This was not an arrest...

and no arrest warrant
has been issued.

- Meaning what?
- As of now, he's only a witness.

He turned himself in.

What's your opinion?

I'm not the magistrate.
He has to make the decisions.

That would be all,
gentlemen.

Be seeing you soon.

There's something
odd about this.

THE MANIAC WAS CAPTURED.

THE POLICE STORMS
A HOUSE IN THE OUTSKIRTS.

FINDS A KNIFE, GLOVES
AND THE KILLER'S MASK.

THE MAN CONFESSED.

/ I am the man you think
you have captured.

- Who?
- Don't be any stupider than you are.

- Excuse me, I don't understand.
- Really?

- Who are you?
- You understand very well.

I'm sorry, but...

I can't give you
my name.

I'm the one
you call the "maniac"...

instead of the
"moral avenger".

The man you arrested
is just a pathetic moron.

If you know that and conceal it,
you're a fraud.

If you don't know that,
you're even stupider than him.

In any case,
you're totally incapable.

Why should I believe you?

The fact that you're calling me
proves that you're the idiot.

You're the one
who's irrational, inspector.

All you found in this imbecile's house
are some pornographic photos...

and some clippings
from sex magazines.

I will make you look
like a fool.

You made
a big mistake, Capuana.

And now you'll pay for it,
very dearly.

What mistake?

- You don't understand.

- Enlighten me.
- Stop joking around.

- You got two minutes.
- You underestimated me.

That was a mistake.

While you're playing with that poor fool,
I will kill again.

I will strike again to make a fool out of you,
the commissioner and the magistrate.

That'll be the end of your career.
But don't hang up.

I have to tell you something important:
I will kill your wife, this very day.

Now you're
speechless.

You don't believe me?
Yes, I will kill your wife.

You got that right:
Your own wife.

Listen,
stop wasting my time.

The maniac only kills
unfaithful women, whores.

Exactly, whores.

You must be the only one in town
who doesn't know your wife deceives you.

Wave photos to prove 'k.
Just like the others.

You didn't expect this?
You'll be disgraced.

You'll have to leave town,
a cuckold and a widower.

And you can't prevent it, Capuana,
because you have no idea where they meet.

Now you're
not laughing anymore?

- Yes, inspector?
- I don't wish to speak to anybody.

- To nobody. understand?
- Yes, inspector.

You found in this imbecile's house
are some pornographic photos...

and some clippings
from sex magazines.

I will make you look
like an ass.

You made
a big mistake, Capuana.

You must be the only one in town
who doesn't know your wife deceives you.

I have photos to prove it.
Just like the others.

You didn't expect this?
You'll be disgraced.

- The Capuana residence. Who? there?
- It's me, Teresa. ls my wife home?

She went out.
She wanted to go to the hairdresser.

- ls there something else I can do for you?

You'll have to leave town,
a cuckold and a widower.

And you can't prevent it, Capuana,
because you have no idea where they meet.

Now you're
not laughing anymore?

clippings
from sex magazines.

I will make you look
like a fool.

You made
a big mistake, Capuana.

And now you'll pay for it,
very dearly.

It's Capuana. ls my wife there?

- No, inspector.
- But she wanted to come?

- Yes, but she hasn't arrived yet.
- But she has an appointment?

Yes, she does.
You want me to check the time?

I'm sure she'll be here in time.

- Tell her to call me.

No problem.
She'll call you once she's here.

Yes, like this...
that's very sensual.

- When is Signora Capuana expected to arrive?
- At 5 p.m.

But she's always late.

I'm sure she won't be here before 7 p.m.

She comes to get her hair done...
"afterwards".

- Madam, I have magic hands, don't I?
- That's true.

You should see me
with the boys...

who doesn't know
your wife deceives you.

I have photos to prove it.
Just like the others.

You didn't expect this?
You'll be disgraced.

You'll have to leave town,
a cuckold and a widower.

And you can't prevent it, Capuana,
because you have no idea where they meet.

Now you're
not laughing anymore?

You'll be disgraced.
You'll have to leave town...

a cuckold
and a widower.

And you can't prevent it, Capuana,
because you have no idea where they meet.

Now you're
not laughing anymore?

You'll be disgraced.
You'll have to leave town...

a cuckold
and a widower.

And you can't prevent it, Capuana,
because you have no idea where they meet.

Now you're
not laughing anymore?

DEADLY LOVE STORY.
HIM AND HER ON THE RUN.

THE FASCINATING BLONDE FOREIGNER
HAS AN ITALIAN PASSPORT.

HUSBAND NOTIFIED.

THE LOVER WAS A YOUNG
FRENCH INDUSTRIALIST.

HE RECOGNISED HER.

THE TWO YOUNG VICTIMS OF YESTERDAY'S
CAR CRASH WERE A COUPLE.

THE ITALIAN HUSBAND
IDENTIFIED THE YOUNG DEAD WOMAN...

WHO DIED YESTERDAY
IN A CAR CRASH NEAR MONACO.

Your nephew went away
this afternoon.

Pardon?
I think to the beach house.

- Back so soon?
- l forgot some paperwork.

- Where are you going?
- To the beach.

Alone?

- Hello uncle.
- Roberto is taking me...

- if you don't mind.
- Of course not.

Providing he's not racing,
as usual.

Don't worry.
When he's with me, he doesn't race.

Well then... see you later.

- Who's there?
- Her husband knows everything.

Get out of there,
don't be a fool.

Her husband knows everything...
But who are you?

Hold it, Casali.

Perhaps we're dealing
with a sex maniac.

And then
the mortal cut.

Capuana here.

Give me
the commissioner.