New York Ripper, The (1982)

[bunniefuu]

Bessy, I can't walk anymore.

Let's stretch our legs a little.

Go. Go on! Fetch!

Go on. Fetch.

Attagirl. Bring it here.

Good girl. Good girl, Bessy.

Go on!

Look for it, Bessy!

Look for it!

Go on! Look for it.

Again!

Go on!

Bring it. Come.

Bessy, you've gotten really good.

I'm so proud of you, you know?

It's the one they found cut up.

Give me the file. Now.

Look casually to the right, Lieutenant.

Don't fall in love.

She's the landlady of the apartment
where she lived.

- This is the girl, right?
- Yes, Lieutenant. No doubt.

That photo doesn't do her justice.

She was much prettier. So sweet.

Poor girl. She was m*rder*d, wasn't she?

So it seems.
You have to help me, if you can.

When did you last see this girl, Ann Linn?

- That was her name, right?
- No. That was her working name.

She was a stripper.

She was a magazine model.
Lately, she was making good money.

They called her often.
They paid her very well. One day--

I keep talking but she had it all.
She was destined for great things.

It was last Friday.

Exactly 12 days ago.

She had left her apartment at 7:00.

I remember that
because Dallas had just started.

The TV series about that family
that is filthy rich.

Listening. Go on.

As I was saying, it was 7:00,

and she got this telephone call from
this person that spoke in a strange voice.

Sounded like a duck.

- Like a duck?
- Quack, quack, quack. Like a duck.

But he didn't say “quack, quack, quack.”

He made an appointment to meet her
but I didn't understand where.

Yes, I see.

How come you heard the phone call?

Sometimes my phone doesn't work well,
it rings together with Ann's.

I answer and I happen to listen in.
But I don't pry.

God forbid.

No doubt about it.

Thank you. If I need you I'll contact you.

It's an exciting case.

In New York, nine people a day
are m*rder*d. Six are women.

Take care, ma'am.

I appreciate your help.

Bloody hell!
Why can't you watch where you're going?

Don't be angry. I didn't mean to.

You are fine. But I apologize.

If I'd run the city I could think of a way
to handle idiots like you.

Go to hell! Bye.

- Captain.
- Good morning, ma'am.

He deserves it.
I'll wash right off with water.

But you don't care about the car, do you?

Hi, my name's Rosie.

You know,
I ride my bike to school every morning.

To Staten Island.

Stupid girl.

Barry.

Barry!

- What?
- Have something to share?

What can I tell you?

He used a knife as a weapon.

He stuck it up her joy trail
and cut her wide open.

Like a real butcher.

A little hasty but effective.
Without a doubt.

Sexual as*ault?

No trace. At all.

What do you think?

I've seen hundreds of girls
in even worse shape.

- But this young lady--
- What"s so special about her?

Remember that girl they found
five or six weeks ago?

Ann Linn?

Same technique.

I bet a month's pay
that we are talking about the same guy.

A left-handed guy
who loves cutting up women.

Another one.

Anyway, there might be something
that might interest you.

I found another blood group
mixed with hers.

That maniac probably hurt himself.

Sam?

What's up with you?
What are you standing there for?

Have you seen a ghost?

Well, well, well.

If it isn't the big chief person himself?

You're looking good.

Listen, Fred. I need a word with you.

Is there some place quieter?

Sure. We can go to church.

Tell me.

Are you trying to get me an ulcer?

A medical examiner runs his mouth
making assumptions,

and you declare to the press
that a maniac's loose in New York.

What would you rather I say?

That a boy scout is fiddling
with his pocket knife?

For Christ's sake, don't get me wrong.

But be careful
when you say certain things.

No need to create panic.

You don't want to create another Atlanta,
do you?

Put yourself in my shoes.

Yes. All right.

Could be just an isolated case.

Why did you exclude the car owner?

Do you think the loser
who found the body and burst into tears,

could have slit her
on a crowded ferryboat?

Calm down a minute, Fred.

How far are you with the investigation?

I sent some of the m*rder*r's blood
down to the molecular cytology lab.

And the result could match
anyone of a million people.

What we do know is that we are looking
at someone maybe between 28 and 30,

who lived all his life in New York.

And what are you planning to do next?

I really don't know.

Maybe I'll talk to an expert,
a psychiatrist or something like that,

to get a psychological profile
and narrow the field.

Yes. Seems like a good idea.

But you must remember

that people should feel
we have the situation under control.

We must show perfect efficiency. Got it?

Keep me informed, will you?

Lieutenant. There is a call for you.

- Who is it?
- Some guy with a strange voice.

Sounded just like a duck.

He said he'd call back.

Like a duck.

Now where the hell
have I heard that before?

Don't tell me
you're thinking of beating me.

It's open.

Just a minute.

I'm looking for Dr. Dauvis.

What's the problem?

My problem is
that I want to talk to Dr. Davis.

You've solved it already.

It's me.

- I thought--
- I understand.

You don't have to look like Einstein
to be a scientist.

How banal you policemen can be.

You're here for the slaying
of the young girl, Lieutenant?

How did you know?

I can make a guess.

How can I help you?

That's why you are here, no?

More or less. In this case,
I believe some expert help is useful.

- Who's paying?
- Huh?

Sorry, Lieutenant.

Being a scientist doesn't mean
I work for free.

I believe the administration
has a special fund or something similar.

Got any idea
how much a genius costs per hour?

I know what a cop makes every month.

Okay. Give me all the data you have,
and we wait for the next victim.

- Are you sure there will be another one?
- If he's a real psycho, yes.

Very beautiful girls, sir.

Very beautiful.

Hi.

- Hi.
- Hi.

b*stard.

Joe.

Joe!

This bloody place.

Really.

Damn it. It had to be me.

You.

It's you.

Son of a b*tch.

- Hello.
- Is Lieutenant Williams there?

- Huh?
- Is Lieutenant Williams there?

- What the hell do you want?
- Lieutenant Williams.

Just a minute. Hold on.

Hey.

Hey!

It's for you.

For me?

Are you or aren't you Lieutenant Williams?

Go ahead. Talk.

Yes.

Am I bothering you, Williams?

Who is this?

Tell the truth, Williams.

You were screwing that wh*re of yours,
weren't you?

Who are you?

Can't you guess, Williams?

Now you've got it, don't you?

I have to tell you something.

It happened.

It happened again, tonight.

She was very beautiful.

I Had to k*ll her,
but you can't understand.

You'll never understand.

You're too stupid.

Someone teasing you?

Will you make me some coffee?

Sweetheart,
I'm a prost*tute not your wife.

I have a soft spot for you.
But you make your own coffee.

Did you tell anyone about me?

Why?

Stop messing around. Just answer.

What do you think?
I take my profession seriously.

I keep my clients anonymous.

I tell you a lot of things,
but I never mention names.

How does this b*stard know I'm here”?

Darling, I'm going out.

Do you mind if I take your car?

No. Go ahead.

I'm not working at the hospital today.

I'll be talking over some business
with Charlie Robson.

Enjoy yourself, sweetheart.

Thank you.

- Jane.
- Yes, darling.

Make plans for yourself tonight.

I'm so sorry but I'm afraid...

I will be late, very late.

Don't worry, darling.

I knew.

Don't work too hard.

Enjoy your work.

Well...

these phone calls from our butcher friend
are quite interesting.

So?

And I have come to three conclusions.

One.

He has exceptional self-control,

which means we are not dealing
with a crazy psychopath.

Two.

He wants to provoke you.

This probably has something to do
with his motive.

Three.

It is someone who likes to be noticed,

who likes challenges.

As a good chess player,

he doesn't improvise
but plans his next move.

Not much to help me find him
in a city of ten million people.

Yes. Not easy.

I don't find it impossible
thinking that he is very intelligent.

He is not content
just to m*rder his victims.

Hey, Morales.

I think they're made of silk.

- This chick doesn't wear any.
- True, ma'am?

What a thing to say!

That's not clean.

But it's more comfortable.
It's so much better.

- Wanna bet? Huh?
- Yes.

A beer.

A beer.

I was wrong.

But she is a sl*t.

Ma'am. Hold on.

I'll buy you a beer,
and my friend will keep riding.

Do you like it?

Do you like it, ma'am?

Hey, Chico. She likes it.

Don't be afraid. Tell me you like it.

Go on. Say it.

She can't say she likes it.

Yes.

Enough. Stop it.

Go on. Say it.

No.

Still, she likes it.

Drink it.

Feels good, right?

You don't want me to stop, do you?

Then say it.

Say it.

Do you like it?

Say it.

Come on. Say you like it.

He is something, isn't he?

Are you ready to come?

Scream.

Scream.

How much you like it?

More.

The lady likes it!

Fay.

Fay.

A nurse to Ward 7.

A nurse to Ward 7.

Darling.

Fay.

What happened?

It was awful... Awful, Peter.

How is it possible?

Tell me how?

I can't tell reality from fantasy.

The police asked me a bunch of questions.

I thought I'd die.

You escaped.

That's all that matters.

My legs hurt.

I have a headache.

But the worst thing--

the worst thing was--

Shh. Stop thinking about it.

It's all over now.

No. I have to tell you something.

- Later.
- No.

I have to tell you now.

After I escaped the attack,

immediately after,

I had some sort of--

some sort of nightmare.

I was in a strange movie theater-- empty.

You came inside the theater

and tried to k*ll me.

Yes. You wanted to k*ll me.

- What do you think?
- I don't know.

She is pretty confused. It's normal.

I don't think she can help us much.

If the guy who hurt her is our man
who talks like a duck,

well,
he made a big mistake letting her go.

All stations have been informed.

Shouldn't be hard to find
a guy missing two fingers.

- Need a ride?
- No. I prefer to walk.

Okay.

I think I know why I had those dreams,
Peter.

Do you remember that time when we fought?

I wanted to hurt you.

I mentioned Susy's disease.

Such a terrible thing.

That day you weren't yourself, Fay.

I provoked you.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

I fear I'm losing my mind, Peter.

Stand by me.

Of course I will.

You don't have to fear your dreams.
Reality is much more dangerous.

You have escaped this b*stard
who k*lled three women already.

What did the police say?

They think they will find the man
who attacked me in the subway.

What was he like?

Strange, creepy.

Kept coming toward me, smiling.

I saw he was missing two fingers
on his right hand.

Mikis.

Yes, of course.
We"re over here at my place.

That will be two dollars, sir.

Enjoy it, sir.

Good night, my dear friends.
As always, this is Billie Joe.

The night is still young.
I have a bunch of messages for you.

First, I want to ask the m*rder*r,
the Ripper,

the man who is missing two fingers
on his right hand--

Why, baby? Why do you it?

Here, Billie Joe wishing good-night
to all young boys who dream of conquests

but haven't yet found a girl,

and for who true love isn't--

I am sorry. I couldn't welcome you
in other circumstances, Lieutenant,

I am distressed.

Sure, I understand.

But I have some questions.

Dr. Lodge,
how well did you know your wife?

Jane was an adorable wife,
a perfect companion.

The only one.

She was a wonderful and lovely creature.

No one will ever fill...

the void she left... in my life.

Again.

My wife is dead now.

You ought to be intelligent enough

to understand that some relationships
are based on mutual trust

and, most precious of all, freedom.

- My wife was free to live the way--
- Yes, I know.

I've heard all that before. No taboos.

Your wife was free to live
and free to die.

Anyway, thank you.

Thank you?

Yes. Thanks to your hobby,
we now know who we are looking for.

Mikis Scellenda. He's Greek.

The night clerk at the hotel
recognized him.

I don't know! I don't know where he is!

I don't know.

He is always coming and going.

He does what he wants. What do I know?

Every time he shows up...
there is trouble.

And then he's gone.

That b*stard still owes me
two months' rent.

Plus the $200 I lent him!

You don't know anything about this stuff?

I can't take this anymore. Leave me alone!

Look what you've done to my place.
This is too much.

I haven't done anything wrong.

What the hell do you want from me?

Please, leave me alone.

Lieutenant.

Our friend is quite weird, isn't he?

Davis said he would be.

When did you last see Mr. Muscles?

Are you all deaf or something?
I told you already.

I haven't seen him for a couple of days.

He's banging one of his wh*res somewhere.

I don't know what they see in him.

Who knows? None of them could tell us.

Careful. Mind your step.

- Thank you, Peter.
- Here. This way.

I couldn't stand that hospital
a second longer.

It was awful.

Stressful.

Besides, I kind of like the idea
to stay at your place and rest--

Careful.

...and be cuddled and taken care by you.

If I let you rest
and you don't make an effort,

you won't get back in shape.

You use to dream being a champion
at Los Angeles Olympics.

There's still plenty of time.

Now I need to rest my muscles.

Lazy girl.

I was so scared.

Just my muscles hurt.

I"m not sick.

My mind is clear. Too clear.

It doesn't suffice to be very intelligent.

You must be ambitious, be a fighter.

And you're not.

In this city,
if you're not successful Fay,

even if you are the best,
the most beautiful,

or perfect and intelligent--

They ignore you. You can't succeed.

Well, how's your leg?

Clinically it's healed.

But I need plenty of exercise
to tone up the muscles.

We we're going to have some coffee.
Do you want some?

No, thank you. I'll leave soon.

- Mathematician?
- No, physicist.

I'm doing research
on entropy at absolute zero.

Interesting.

A good chess player too, I bet.

Are you absolutely sure that you've been
attacked by Mikis Scellenda?

What? Why ask me again?

I said it again and again.

Just asking once more.

Bye, darling.
I'll be back as soon as I can.

- Do you need anything?
- No.

Only you, Peter.

Sometimes I wonder
how a girl with an IQ of 182

can be so childish.

Do you want to know why?
I don't want to show off.

One genius is enough.

See you soon.
Don't open the door to anyone.

I know you do what you want.
However, you never know.

I will be careful. Don't worry.

I won't let anyone in. Not even you.

You know, Fay Majors's testimony
is not really convincing.

Something doesn't sound right.
I don't know why.

She sounds like she's hiding something.

It doesn't matter.
To nail Mikis Scellenda in court

all we need is his recording
with Jane Foster Lodge.

- Professor Davis.
- Yes.

It was his fourth victim.

Yes.

Look at this Mikis Scellenda.
We know that he is a sex maniac.

He's not very bright, a gigolo.

On the other hand, these phone calls

are made by an extremely educated person.

I have no doubt,
a polished and intelligent person.

Yes, someone like you.
Come on. We know Scellenda is our guy.

All this talk is for experts like you,
not me.

But in this gibberish
lies the essence of things.

You are very lucky, young lady.

You escaped the Ripper for a second time.

If it weren't for Peter,
he would have k*lled me.

If your men wouldn't have stopped me
for a routine check,

I would have been here a lot earlier.

Dr. Bunch, these stupid routine checks,

help us catch this assassin.

You said that she will be safer
at your place.

That you will not leave her alone
for a second.

But I had to go out.

If anything else happens
or you remember something, call me.

- What time he said he'd call?
- Quarter after 8:00.

What else did he say?

That he has a surprise for you.

- This time I will surprise him.
- Okay.

Let me speak to the lieutenant.

- Lieutenant Williams?
- Speaking. What do you want?

I have a present for you.
[ want to dedicate a crime fo you.

I will sacrifice a woman for you.
Do you like the idea?

The only thing I'd really like now...

is to meet you.

That will happen sooner or later,
but you will have to recognize me.

For now accept this special gift...

Keep him a little longer.
We traced him in Sector 25.

Pass the information to all teams.

A cop getting such a gift.

Thank you, but rather disappointing.

First you challenge me...

and then you lack the courage
to let me see how you do it.

For now be happy with seeing
the results only. In person though!

I Forgot the most important part!

Your dear friend Kitty says “Hi'!
She misses you.

That's it! We found him near Pier 14.

Send the teams. Quick!

Seven minutes and 22 seconds.

Record time! Congratulations!

You really thought you'll find me here?

- Son of a b*tch!
- Stupid cop!

I'm not that naive fo let
your tracing machines find me.

Now you'll have to excuse me.
Kitty is dying to get started.

You should see her.

You don't know what to do, do you?

You're not even sure she's with me,
are you?

You're pathetic, stupid cop.

You'd like to know if Kitty's with me,
wouldn't you?

Wanna hear her voice? Sure!
You have a right to!

I should have known!

283 Fulton Street! Let's go! Faster!

Checkmate.

You lack imagination. Like a cop.

How's your heart? Are you okay?

It doesn't give up on me.

The doctor says
I shouldn't wear myself out. I'll survive.

That son of the b*tch--

The pulmonary exam showed
the cause of death was suffocation.

With a cellophane bag.

Exact time of death? Eight days ago.

Eight days ago? Nonsense!

That b*stard m*rder*d Kitty
three days ago!

And you're telling me
he's been dead for eight days?

How long have we known each other?

Ten years at least.

If I say the time of death
was eight days ago,

it means it was eight days ago.

It could be a couple of hours more,
but no more.

Jesus Christ.

What's the matter?

Oh, nothing.

So we're back to square one.

Maybe not.

It was a high price to pay.

Now we know for certain
that the m*rder*r is not Scellenda,

but someone who used him as a cover.

A person who blames society
for their failures.

A woman who attacks beautiful girls...

who are more fortunate than her.

And if it's a man?

It's quite similar.

The motive could be his love
for a woman who is unhappy, in this case.

What about Mikis Scellenda?
What's his role in this story?

Scellenda was just a common criminal,
a drug dealer, a sex maniac.

He was accused of crimes he didn't commit.

He wanted to hurt Fay Majors
because she denounced him.

Hounded by police,
abandoned by his friends,

he decides to commit suicide.

“On Granny Duck's farm
there was a tiny pig.

The children saw it
and jumped up and down with glee.

'How sweet! So tiny!

I never knew piggies could be so cute.

I want to take him home
to keep me company.'

Granny said: 'Quack, quack. I like him.'

- He's cute!
- You can keep him. Quack, quack.

-'Really?'
-'But ask your uncle's permission.'

-'When little, did you have a pet?'
-'Quack, quack. Yes, 1 did.'

-“Maybe a kitten?'
-'Quack, quack. Yes, I did'

'Can we have a pet too?'

'Quack, quack. It better be tiny.'

And they picked up the piggy
and went home.

When the uncle saw it he shouted:

'You tricked me!
You didn't tell me it was a piggy.'

'He is as tiny as a kitten, Uncle!

'Quack, quack! Take him back!
He'll make a mess of my house"

'Don't worry. Piggies are clean.”

Who is it? Is that you Fay?

Fay? Fay?

Hi. Where have you been?

Shopping.

- What do you want to eat tonight?
- Anything you want.

Okay.

No one has come to see her for months.

- How much time has she got left?
- Very little.

Her lymphatic system is compromised.
What a pity!

She is very smart,

but she's fading away more every day.

Lymphogranuloma is a terrible disease.
Has no pity.

Her parents are divorced.
One is in Europe and the other--

The other never comes to see her.

No. It's heartless.

No one has come so see her
after the first amputation.

Now I understand.

Under that tent lies the motive.

The m*rder*r is in Peter Bunch's house.
I would put under surveillance--

You might think I'm stupid,
but I've already done it.

That's why we are here.

Hello?

This is the little duck. How are you?

We haven't talked in such a long time.

- Did you call headquarters?
- No, they'd just make a mess.

Bye.

Fay?

Fay? Fay?

Don't go in Susy's room!

I should have k*lled you at the theater.

You are young, beautiful,
and full of life!

While my daughter rots 10 death
in 2 hospital bed!

Calm down, Susy. Don't cry, darling.

What do you want? Do you want to call
your father up to play ducks?

The hallucination made me wonder.

Then the hospital bill, those marks
on the wall by the movie house,

the broken knife.

And then I heard Peter on the phone
with his daughter

saying he wanted to k*ll me.

To take revenge against the injustice
of the world.

She didn't understand.

She just didn't want to be alone.

Peter, in his madness,

sacrificed young and beautiful ladies.

His daughter would never become one.

Every time he k*lled he spoke like a duck.

The only connection he still had
with his daughter.

He k*lled for her but didn't understand...

that a little love was all she needed

to bear the tragedy of her condition.

Dad, your little duck here.

Please, answer me.

Don't leave me.

Don't leave me.