“Yes.”
“We’ve analyzed the threads and identified the fabric. It’s Crilicon.”
“Does that come from Krypton?”
It was a stupid quip that just slipped out of him. Arqua, who obviously didn’t read comic books and didn’t know of the existence of Superman, balked.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing, never mind. Why does that fabric seem important to you?”
“Because it’s very particular and is mainly used for a specific article of clothing.”
“Namely?”
“Women’s panties.”
Arqua hung up, and Montalbano sat there flummoxed, receiver in hand.
Another noir film? As he set the phone down, he imagined the scene.
TERRACE WITH ROOM. Outside/inside shot, night.
Through the open door, from out on the terrace, the camera frames the interior of the former laundry room. Angelo is sitting on the arm of the armchair. A woman, standing in front of him and seen from behind, puts her purse on the table and, moving very slowly, removes first her blouse, then her bra. The camera zooms entirely inside.
(Sensual music)
With desire in his eyes, Angelo watches the woman unfasten her skirt, letting it drop to her feet. Angelo slides off the arm and into the chair, almost lying down.
The woman takes off her panties, but keeps them in her hand.
Angelo opens the zipper on his jeans and gets ready to have sex.
(Extremely sensual music)
The woman opens her purse and extracts something we can’t see. Then she straddles Angelo, who embraces her.
Long, passionate kiss. Angelo’s hands caress the woman’s back. She suddenly breaks free of his embrace and points the pistol she took out of her purse at Angelo’s face.
CLOSE-UPof Angelo, terrified.
ANGELO:What…what are you doing?WOMAN:Open your mouth.
Angelo automatically obeys. The woman sticks the panties in his mouth.
Angelo tries to scream but can’t.
WOMAN:Now I’m going to ask you a question. If you want to answer, just nod, and I’ll take them out of your mouth.
The camera follows her movements as she leans forward. She whispers something in his ear.
His eyes open wide as he starts desperately shaking his head no.
(Dramatic music)
WOMAN:I’ll repeat my question.
She leans forward again, brings her mouth to Angelo’s ear, her lips move.
CLOSE-UPof Angelo still refusing, in the throes of uncontrollable panic.
WOMAN:As you wish.
She gets up, takes a step back, and shoots Angelo in the face.
EXTREME CLOSE-UPof Angelo’s devastated head, a black, bloody hole where his eye used to be.
(Tragic music)
DETAILof Angelo’s half-open mouth. Two tapered fingers reach into the mouth and extract the panties. To put them on, the woman turns toward the camera, but the frame is shot from an angle that keeps her face hidden. The woman continues getting dressed, without any hurry. There’s no trace of nervousness in her gestures.
EXTREME CLOSE-UPof Angelo’s head, a horrendous sight.
SLOW FADE-OUT.
Granted, a dreadful script from a B movie of the erotic-crime genre. It might, however, have had decent success on television, given all the other crap that gets broadcast. You know, TV movies. The inspector consoled himself with the thought that if he had to leave the police force, he could try his hand at this new profession.
Leaving his private cinema to return to his office, he saw Fazio standing in front of his desk, staring at him inquisitively.
“What were you thinking, Chief?”
“Nothing, I was just watching a film. What do you want?”
“Chief, you’re the one who called me.”
