08x22 - The Case of the Sad Sicilian

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Perry Mason". Aired: September 21, 1957, to May 22, 1966.*
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Defense attorney Perry Mason defends dozens of falsely accused people during courtroom drama, and he manages to clear all of them, usually by drawing out the real criminal on the witness stand.
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08x22 - The Case of the Sad Sicilian

Post by bunniefuu »

(theme song playing)

Nice room,
considering the price.

No bugs anyhow, that's for sure.

There. Little bit of that
good old California sunshine.

Sort of warms up the bones.

The bathroom's to your right
down at the end of the hall,

and, um, well...
that about does it.

(laughs)
Grazie.

Molto gentile. Very, very nice.

Uh, something else, uh,
I can do for you?

Oh. Si, si, grazie.

Good-bye.

Seeing as how
you're a foreigner,

I think I'd better give you
a little friendly advice.

You see, we have
an old American custom.

You give an additional fee
for good service.

That way, you make friends.

You understand?

Yes.

Now, uh, one dollar, uh, uh...

(muttering)

Hey. Hey, take, uh, the, uh...
take the cents, uh, please.

Yes. Thank you very much.

Now, remember, any time
you want anything,

-you just ask for Joey.
-(laughs)

I ask for Joey.

(laughs)
I remember Joey.

(humming)

Bacio!

Ha! Bacio!

WOMAN:
How much for the David?

It's marked $ .
You can have it for $ .

Lovely price.
I'll take it.

Aren't you terribly excited
about going back to Italy?

These Roman pieces
are very nice,

especially at the price.

They look like marble.

It's our own process.

We're really rather proud of...

Would you excuse me
for a minute?

Are you looking
for something special?

Bellezza.

Yes, we do have
some beautiful things here.

Oh, la signorina parla Italiano?

No.

I understand a little.

Oh, but-but you Italian, no?

Italian descent.

Only Italian blood make, uh,
make such beauty.

Look, I-I have
a customer waiting.

Uh, maybe your father Siciliano?

Yes.

Uh, maybe from between
Caltagirone and Pietraperzia,

up in the mountain a small
village called, uh, Sciccata?

(laughing):
Oh, yes.

(laughs)
Up here the church.

Always on top, and then
one little street that goes...

goes down and down and down,

like a... like the happy dog
chasing the memories. (laughs)

How did you know
that my father came from there?

It's a famous family
in the Campagna-- Bacio.

Bacio. The kiss.

It's old family, very...
very well known.

Very fine. Much respect, huh?

Oh, my family come
from Sciccata, too.

Did you come here
to see my father?

Oh, si, uh, si.

Um, uh, Uncle Giovanni
tell me ...


-I bring greetings.
- Which one?

The little Uncle Giovanni
who is married

to the... to the daughter
of il pescatore.

You know, the one
who live, uh...

It doesn't matter.

Uh, my father should be back
in about two hours.

Well, then, uh,
I come back, huh?

Would you care
to leave your name?

Si. Uh, Paulo Porro. That's me.

(laughs)

In English, it mean, uh...
(laughs)

It mean a... a wart.

(laughing)

(both laughing)

Uh, arrivederci, signorina.

(laughs)

Bellezza.

Ah.

Oh, brother.

With his dough,

Bacio will be the richest man
in the mountains.

Do you know what this means?

He'll be like a little king.

The men will tip their hats
at him,

and the women will practically
crawl at his feet.

And for a man
who came from Sicily

years ago,
without even shoes,

it's like going to heaven
without having to die for it.

I can understand why
he's so anxious to get back.

But he's selling everything.

He's selling everything
right from under me!

Just like half of the business
wasn't rightfully mine!

It isn't.

You know as well as I do
that it is.

Mr. Dodson, you remember
when my father was still alive,

when he used to build
all the moulds,

when he used to make
all the plaster castings,

why, when he even sat
at that paint bench

without a ventilator,

slowly k*lling himself
with the paint fumes.

You saw it.
You were there.

I saw it, but I never saw
papers stating

there was a partnership between
Mr. Bacio and your father.

But this was a family business!

Whoever thought
of legal documents?

It was taken for granted.

Giangiacomo,
try to understand.

The courts do not take anything
for granted.

Well, I thought
maybe you can help me.

MAN:
No, I can't.

Look, I am Mr. Bacio's lawyer.

Now, even
if you could produce evidence

supporting your claim,
I cannot act against him.

Well, suppose
you can find a letter

or something in the file?
Something...?

Are you accusing me
of hiding something from you?

Well, you keep all the files,
you handle all the books.

Nobody knows
what this business is worth

except you and the old man.

Big secret!

Man, I grew up in this business.

Half of it is legally mine.

I don't even know
what it's worth.

I'm sorry, my boy.
Mr. Bacio wants it that way.

Although I must admit,
I never could understand why.

Well, I'll tell you why.

Because he's the boss, and
we're the slaves, that's why!

That's the way he thinks.

All of us, slaves.
Even his own kids.

Massimo and Elizabeth,
and that poor old Serafina.

Why, the way
he's kicked her around is...

Now, that is enough!

I told you, I wish I could help,

but you have made no attempt
whatsoever

to understand
the legalities involved...

Oh, I understand,
I understand, all right,

that if I am to get any kind of
a settlement, I must do it

before he leaves the country,
and all alone,

because you are as afraid
of Bacio as everybody else!

(door closes)

Acme, Giustino, dela Vega,

all the way from Main Street
to Long Beach.

I go around all day--
sell, sell.

(speaks Italian)

I sell everybody.

I get lots of nice orders.

They're very happy to buy
Bacio products, the very best.

And they're happy
to pay this price.

You have the orders in writing?

What writing?

It's cash, my son. All cash.

Papa, you don't seem
to realize...

Ah!

(speaking Italian)

(speaking Italian)

Bella. Al dente.

Grazie.

- Liza?
Mm?

I think it is good you go back
to Italy before it is too late.

What's good about it?

Ah, you're getting pretty old
for not have a husband yet.

ELIZABETH: You haven't given me
much of a chance to...

BACIO:
I don't know.

In this country, the women
is forget how to be a women.

All her time mixed up
in a man's business.

You took me out of school
when I was ,

and put me to work
in your office.

I do a man's job,

and save you a man's salary.

But I haven't had time to...

even say hello to a man,
much less go out with one.

(Bacio laughs)

You have been a good daughter.

I make it up to you.

As soon as we get back
to old country,

I give you a big dowry,
and I find you a good husband.

I don't want you
to find me a husband!

Liz, please, control yourself.

And don't you tell me
what to do, Max!

You keep your mouth shut!

I am sick and tired
of everybody telling me...

You show more respect
to your father!

ELIZABETH:
I'm not a child anymore!

And I'm no sl*ve,
and nobody is going to...

buy me a husband!

Not even my respected father.

Papa, can I please go
to my room?

As soon
as you finish your supper.

- Massimo?
- MASSIMO: Mm?

You talked with Fiastri?

He'll buy all the moulds.

BACIO:
For cash?

MASSIMO: Half down on delivery,
the rest in days.

Uh, you told him no.

He's good for the money, Papa.
He's the biggest dealer

in San Francisco.
He'll pay the money.

You are not selling my moulds!

Your moulds?

You're not selling my father's
originals, and not mine.

They belong to me.

They made money for you
for all these years.

Now they're gonna make money
for me in my own shop.

Your own shop?

Yes. Why not?
You are quitting.

You said
you're going back to Italy

to become a big man. Okay, go!

But you can't just leave me here

with nothing to show
for all the years

my father and me put together
to make you rich!

Jack, you're losing your head.

Oh, what am I supposed to do?
Let him here rob me?

(shouting in Italian)

I pay to bring your father
here to America.

He arrive with a dirty pair
of pants, a torn shirt,

one wife and one baby.
That's you.

I pay to eat, for clothes
and house to live.

My father worked
for you night and day.

BACIO: Only to pay back
what he owe me.

Sure. Imported sl*ve labor!

This is a family business.

This is no family!

There's only you, and for you,
there's nobody else but you.

Not even your own kids count.

You would leave them behind
without a dime

if they don't go
to Italy with you.

- That's what you said, isn't it?
-(bell ringing)

Didn't he say that to you?

And to you?
Didn't he say that?

BACIO:
Serafina, the bell.

And you, Serafina--
what is he doing for you

for all the years you've been
everything but his legal wife?

-(bell ringing)
- What has he?

(shouting):
Serafina, the doorbell!

(sighs)

(sighs)

Uh, buona serra, signorina.

Si?

Um, uh... Sono venuto...

Oh, no. I speak English.

Va bene. So you speak English.
What do you want to say?

Uh, I am come
to visit Mr. Enrico Bacio.

Oh, no, no, bet... better
that you come back tomorrow.

Oh, perpiacere, please.

Tell him, uh, Paulo Porro
from Sciccata come...

No, no, it's not possible...

Porro, you say?

Yeah, from Sciccata
where he is born.

His Uncle Giovanni tell me
I-I bring greetings.

Uh, also I am in San Francisco,
but-but ...


Ma non.

Non e possibile.

Sit. Accomodi.

Sit. Accomodi.

Oh. Oh.

(speaking Italian)

I tell him. I tell him.

I tell him right now.
No waiting.

Uh, grazie, grazie.

Porro!

BACIO: I am not surprised
you all against me.

You want me to stay here because
you think only of yourselves.

If this is the gratitude
I get for...

- Padrone, a young man.
- Ah, do not interrupt.

- From Sciccata.
told you...


From Sciccata. A Porro.

Porro?

SERAFINA:
Paulo Porro.

A Porro?!

He was in this afternoon
looking for you.

Why you didn't told me?

Well, I forgot.

Massimo...

call the police.

- The police?!
- Why, Papa?

Do not ask why!
Call the police!

My life is in danger.
I get my shotgun.

Well, now,
what's all that about?

SERAFINA:
II destino, Elizabetta.

The fate.

Some people can never
escape the fate.

Never. Never.

(laughing)

Language is more than a system
of communication between people.

In a way, it's a permanent
record of experience,

and people of different cultures

often react differently
to the same experience.

The great translator
is often as creative

as the original author

because he's not
translating words,

but the meaning of words.

Oh, for example, there were
some enormous mistakes made...

Excuse me, Father.
Telephone for you.

For me?

Well, who is it, do you know?

Yes, Father.
It's the Valley police station.

Hmm. You, too?

Only when they need an Italian.

I'm sorry, Father, but, uh,
this time, I guess it's urgent.

He said something
to do about m*rder.

All right, then.
Attempted m*rder!

But did he wave a g*n at you,
or a Kn*fe?!

Or make any kind of a move?

It makes no difference
what he do or don't do!

He's gonna k*ll me.

You let him go now,
he k*ll me for sure!

Signore Bacio...
(speaking Italian)

Please, why you say
these terrible things?

I do not talk to you.

I do not even look you
in the face.

How you know
I want to k*ll you?! Huh?

Do I make some, um,
how you say?

Um... minacciare?

Talk English!

thr*aten.

He is asking if he ever
threatened this man.

Thank you for coming, Father.
Thank you.

Non necessario, Padre.

(speaking Italian)

His name is Porro.

(speaking Italian)

Si.

That is thr*at enough for me.

But I told you!

A thr*at is not enough reason
to hold him in jail!

Who say so?! You?

What do you know?

The Bacios and the Porros
always k*ll each other! Always!

Serafina, is it true?
Answer yes or no.

In Sicily, yes.

- Ah.
- But-but why? Why?

Mamma mia.
Mamma, tell me why now.

You know why, you k*ller!

(speaks Italian)

Sergeant, uh, may I suggest
that we ask this gentleman

to tell us why
the Porros and the Bacios

are always k*lling each other?

MAN: Uh, yeah. Yeah,
Mr. Bacio, tell us why.

I don't know why!

The vendetta-- it start
years ago.

So long everybody's forget why.

But it don't stop until
everybody's dead, that I know.

Oh, you mean to say,

you don't even know how
and why it started?

What difference does it make?

The hate's the same.

You, Porro-- you hate me, no?

You come to this country
to k*ll me, yes!

No, no! But...

Yeah, but maybe
he try to k*ll me, yeah.

Yes. Yes. Maybe you better
put him in the jail!

Now, stop it! That's enough!

We're not in Sicily now.

We don't recognize
this old blood feud

or whatever you call it

as a reason
for holding him in jail.

Where do you live, kid?

Uh, Hotel Bella Vista,
near the stazione.

All right, Father,
please explain to this boy

that I have no reason
for holding him.

But I will have if he's found

prowling around
Bacio's property!

Also, that he's here
on a tourist visa,


and if he don't behave himself,

the least
that can happen to him is

that he will be deported
from this country.

Now all of you, get out of here!

Si, si. (speaking Italian)

Basta. We'll go. We'll go.

Thank you, Father. Thank you.

BACIO: Sergeant,
you making a big mistake.

This Porro come
to this country to k*ll me.

He's a malandrino.

A k*ller. You understand?
A k*ller!

But why did you go
to see Mr. Bacio, young man?

Oh, I am in San Francisco,

visiting, uh, my cousin
from Sciccata.

He say, "Go see Bacio
in Los Angeles.

Bacio very nice man,
um, uh, very, uh..."

How you say, ospitable?

Hospitable.

Mm. Very hospitable.

Uh...

This man, he's, um...
(speaking Italian)

from Sciccata, huh?

I think maybe...

my cousin, uh, Fiastri

from San Francisco's not
a very nice man.

Yeah.

I think maybe, uh,
he play bad joke on me, huh?

I think maybe
I go back San Francisco

and-and pull out the teeth,
he don't smile so big.

I think you'd better stay out
of trouble,

or you're liable
to find yourself in jail.

Oh... I do not worry now.

Now I am friends
with a famous avvocato!

(laughs)

Not vegetable, Perry. Lawyer.

Thank you.

But as far as friends go...

Ah, please.
Um, that was my joke.

(laughs)

I listen to what the father say,
don't you worry.

From now on, I stay away
from trouble forever.

(sighs)

(man whistling upbeat tune,
footsteps approaching)

(whistling)

(stops whistling)

(crickets chirping)

(gate rattling)

(clicking)

(truck engine revving)

(engine revving)

Hey!

Stop! Stop!

Signore Bacio?

(speaking Italian)

Are you dead?

(Bacio groans)

Oh, mamma mia.

(speaks Italian)

You?! Porro?

- You!
- No! No! No!

No, signore, I didn't hit...

Malandrino, you on my property.
I k*ll you first.

(grunting)

Aah!

(Bacio shouts)

Operator, get me the police.

There's...
there's been a m*rder.

Pazzia... pazzia.

(speaking Spanish)

Crazy. Everything's crazy.

This-this telegram--

it say : , so I go : .

Telegram was sent to you?

It's in Italian.

"Come to my... laboratories."”

It's a funny word
for him to use.

"Will give you $ , to go away
and leave me alone forever.

Signed, Bacio."

So, of course,
you hurried out there.

Did you see anyone else
when you arrived?

Only Bacio, lying on the earth,

in-in the dark, like-like dead.

...I run to him,
I-I shake him.

I say, uh,
"You all right, Signore Bacio?"

He open the eyes, he see me,

and he...
he make sound like a...

like an angry lion.

He get up, and he...
and point the, um...

How you say, uh, fucile?

- g*n.
- PAULO: He point the g*n at me.

I say, "Mr. Bacio, ...
I do not hit you."

He say, "You on my property,
I-I k*ll you!"

I see he gonna do it for real.

(speaking Italian)

I do not die for somebody else.

-I break his head.
- You hit him?

No, no. I...
I take away the g*n,

and I... and I throw it away.

I-I throw it away. I...

He jump at me, and...
and then I hit him.

The old man is
a strong fighter, and...

But I'm younger,
$ - - , he fall...

he fall down again, and...

and then I think fast.

"Paulo, better you go away."

So I go away
running on two feet.

Where did you get the Kn*fe?

What Kn*fe?

The Kn*fe, the file,

whatever it was
that was used to s*ab him.

Why you-you ask such a thing?

Somebody hit the old man
in the head, maybe.

I, uh... I punched him once,
and I...

and I kick him another time.

Wh-What does stabbing got
to do with it?

That's how he was k*lled, Paulo.

He was stabbed
in the back of the neck.

Oh. Mamma mia.

It's pretty messy in here.

The police have asked us
not to clean up yet.

Where did you find your father?

Over there.

And he was dead
when you found him?

Yeah.

Pretty crowded room, isn't it?

Well, we've never had
enough space

to keep up with the growth
of the business.

Not enough storage,
not enough...

DRAKE:
What's the matter?

Something missing?

No, no. I-I'd just forgotten,
we'd moved some moulds

to the other side
of the shop, that's all.

Oh. By the way...
did your father own a shotgun?

Yes.

Do you know where it is?

In his room, I suppose.

Wonder if I could see it.

Al right.

Uh, maybe you wouldn't mind
getting it for me

while I take a look around
outside here.

Sure.

MASSIMO:
Mr. Drake?

The shotgun isn't here.

I don't understand it.

My father always kept that g*n
in his room.

Doesn't matter.

You say
you were on your way home

when you saw Porro
running down the street?

- That's right.
- Were you driving a truck?

No, no, my own car.

Well, a small truck
carrying a heavy load left here

in a hurry last night.

How do you know that?

Tire tracks...
and it rained earlier, remember?

Yeah.

Does that have anything to do
with the shotgun?

Possibly.
I'll have to tell the police.

Maybe their lab
can figure it out.

You mean, like,
whose truck was here and why?

Or maybe you could find out
the real story

of last night for me, Mr. Bacio.

Oh, course, Mr. Drake.
I'll do what I can.

MASON:
Did Mr. Bacio leave a will?

Not that I know of.

At least, he, uh...

he would never let me
write him one.

Some kind of superstition.

Then his son and his daughter
inherit everything?

Yes. Unless this, um...

Unless what, Mr. Dodson?

Their cousin, Giangiacomo,
seems to think

he has a % claim
against the business.

He has documentation
to support his claim?

Absolutely none.

Nor does he have any witnesses

to substantiate
a verbal agreement.

So you're suggesting

this Giangiacomo had a motive
for k*lling his uncle?

I am suggesting nothing.

Now, Mr. Mason, you came here
for information.

I'm only trying to...

Of course, Mr. Dodson.
Of course.

And how much will the Bacio
estate actually amount to?

I would estimate...
half a million dollars.

Bacio had intended to liquidate,

but the problem was,
he wanted all cash.

He had a mania about cash.

He didn't want
to leave anything behind,

not even a guaranteed,
short-term note.

Cash, all cash. No matter who.

Pay now, % cash.

I can almost hear him.

I can hear it now.

"Cash, all cash!"

And what is wrong
with cash, huh?

Oh, no.

The death of our dearly beloved
father will not be allowed

to destroy this business,

or the principles which
he so successfully created.

Therefore,
we will go on as before,

a closely-knit family.

La famiglia, huh?

Each doing his bit to make the
business even more successful.

Grazie, Serafina.

I intend to make Bacio
the biggest name

in plaster reproductions,

a truly lasting memorial
to our father.

Hmm. Count me out.

MASSIMO:
Hmm?

I've been jailed in this factory

for as long as I can remember.

I intend to go...
husband hunting.

I'm opening my own shop, Max.

I cannot stay
in this house any more.

I go with Giangiacomo.

The police have cold
and unsentimental minds.

Show them a motive,
and they suspect a m*rder*r.

Each of us in this room had
a motive for k*lling my father.

You're not accusing me of...

Did you want
to go back to Italy?

Oh, Massimo, how can you ask
your sister?

Most of the moulds
are missing, Jack.

The ones you claim as yours.

They were taken
the night my father was k*lled.

Taken away in a truck.

Yeah? What about it?

Did my father catch you
stealing those moulds?

I only took what belongs to me.

Ah.

My father claimed they were his.

Giangiacomo is right, I know!
That's why I...

And what did you do, Serafina?

Did you help Giangiacomo,
perhaps?

What if I did?

The moulds are his.

And perhaps you hit my father
on the head, huh?

According
to the police doctor...

Elizabeth, please.

I-I had to hit him.

I-I had to strike your father!

He was going
to sh**t Giangiacomo!

And maybe the blow k*lled him,
Serafina!

You've said many times
you intended to k*ll.

ELIZABETH:
Max!

Now, what are you driving at?!

I am thinking
for my family, Elizabeth.

It is my responsibility
now that my father is dead.

There isn't any more family,
Max.

I accept this responsibility,

even if it means
that I must lie for you.

Depend on me, and no harm
will come to any of you.

Everything goes on
exactly as it was

when my father was alive.

And look what happened to him.

Nothing happened to him...

until he tried to sell out.

It's good to know

none of us would do
such a thing.

II Bacione.

He has... come back.

Well, please have him call the
office the minute he comes in.

Yes, it's very urgent.
Thank you.

Try, uh, Father Reggiani.

- Oh, I don't think that...
-(door opening)

I've been calling
all over town for you.

What's the problem?

Friends at headquarters tell me
things, especially bad things.

Like they found a telegram
on Bacio's body, signed "Porro."”

What's in the telegram?

My friend couldn't tell me
exactly 'cause it's in Italian.

But he says it's definitely
a threatening message.

Paulo never mentioned
sending a telegram.

If he had, he wouldn't.

Paul, see if you can get a copy
of that telegram.

Then check it out
with the telegraph company.

- Okay.
- Oh, wait a minute.

How are we doing with Paulo's
cousin in San Francisco?

He's a hard man to contact.
They say he's out fishing.


Fishing? Did you get the name
of the boat?

Even tried
ship-to-shore telephone.

They couldn't raise him.

Think he's trying to avoid us?

Could be,
but I wouldn't know why.

Rather coincidental time
to go fishing, isn't it?

And it's just occurred to me
that Paulo visiting Bacio

at this precise time
is a little coincidental, too.

Paul, suppose you check

with the other members
of the Bacio family on...?

Can't be done, Perry.

They're all tied up
as prosecution witnesses,

and they'll all sing
the same song.

Namely, your boy did it.

- Is that so?
- Maybe he did.

Every member
of the family agrees on it.

DELLA:
Oh, Paul, stop that!

When I think of that poor boy

with those beautiful brown eyes
and that lovely smile

even being accused of m*rder,
it makes me want to...

Perry, can't you think
of something?

Do something!

Why are you so concerned?

Well, uh... I'm not! It's, uh...

(sighs)

It's just that he's, uh...

so Italian!

Let's go, Paul.

(loud, overlapping
crowd chatter)

Buon giorno, Counselor.

And top of the morning to you.

How's your arm?

It hurts.

(loud, overlapping chatter
in Italian)

(loud chatter in Italian)

(speaking Italian)

(loud chatter
in Italian continues)

What is it, Paulo?

Uh, these people, uh,
why are they here?

Who are they?

Oh, I-l don't know.

They make sounds
like Italiano.

MAN:
All rise.

And you say, Doctor,
the death was caused

by this or a similar w*apon?

By that w*apon.

The same file
which has been identified

as belonging there in the shop.

BURGER:
Thank you, Doctor.

But your autopsy report also
mentions a slight concussion.

Are you able to tell us
when this happened, Doctor?

Yes. Before death occurred.

How long before death occurred?

DOCTOR:
Perhaps a few moments.

Four or five minutes,
no more than that.

What did you see
when you were driving home

a few minutes before midnight?

I saw the defendant, hurrying
from the direction of our place,

running off down the street.

Did you say "running,”
Mr. Bacio?

He ran as if the devil himself
were after him.

BURGER: And what did you
yourself do then?

Well, naturally, I was disturbed

over the things
my father had said

earlier in the day
in the police station.

So, when I drove into the yard,
I went back of the house

to see if anything was wrong.

Were you able
to see anything at all?

And if so,
what did you find there?

My father...

with that file stuck
in the back of his neck.

Dead.

You admit that you found
tire tracks, Lieutenant.

Did you locate the vehicle,

the truck,
which made those tracks?

We did.

It belonged to the young man,
nephew of the deceased,

Mr. Giangiacomo Bacio.

MASON:
And yet despite the fact

that you knew this young man's
truck had been there,

near the scene of the crime, and
close to the time of the m*rder,

you simply dropped this line
of investigation?

You made no further...?

Mr. Mason,
I've already testified.

Weather reports showed
that the rain

which caused those tracks
to exist occurred

nearly three hours
prior to the m*rder.

Now, this coincided

with the truck owner's
statement to police

that he had only come to pick up
a few tools at about : .

Since his statement
has been verified

by every member
of the Bacio family...

The repetition
of those statements

is hardly best evidence,
Lieutenant.

I know, sir,
but I'm simply trying

to save the court's time
by explaining that...

The court knows how to read
its own watch, Lieutenant.

On the other hand, Mr. Mason,
this is only a hearing.

Now, perhaps this line
of questioning...

I only wanted to ask a question
about the shotgun, Your Honor.

Now, did the police
find any connection

between the aforementioned
tire tracks

and the shotgun of the deceased
which was discovered nearby?

No. That shotgun bore
fingerprints of the deceased,

and of the defendant,
no one else.

And since the defendant
has already admitted

that he tore the g*n away
from Mr. Bacio...

That will do, Lieutenant.

We've had enough improper
evidence for the moment.

Now, let's return
to the telegram

which you state
you found on the body.

Exhibit three,

the supposed
threatening telegram,

allegedly sent by the defendant
to Mr. Bacio.

But I did not send it,
Mr. Mason!

-(gavel banging)
- Be quiet, Paulo.

-I will not be quiet!
-(gavel banging)

He sent me a telegram, yes,
but I send him nothing!

I tell you the truth.

I... am honest Italian boy.

(laughter, overlapping chatter
in Italian)

Si, si.

(speaking Italian)

(speaking Italian,
gavel banging)

REGGIANI:
This is a court of law.

You must behave
with dignity and respect.

You're not in the market place
in Sciccata now.

But it is not true...

I've been told
the Italians in court are people

who've been brought here from
other towns by the prosecution.

Who are they?
Why are they mad at you?

Tell the truth.

I have six months,

maybe one year, to-to make
turismo all over America.

And, uh, to work is, uh,
to lose the time.

And also, the law say

that I cannot work
without work permit.

If you didn't work,

where did you get money
for the turismo?

What's money for?
To eat and sleep.

If I find a-a way to, uh,

eat and sleep for nothing,
I-l don't need the money, no?

I go to New York.

I, uh, open the telephone book.

I look for name of Porro...

Why Porro?

PAULO:
Well, you forget, it's my name.

And I find, uh,
which has the best, uh, house,

uh, which is, uh,
the most richest.

I go.

Buona sera, Signore.

Uh, you are Pasquale Porro?

(laughs)

I am Paulo Porro,
your cousin from Sciccata.

I bring you the greetings
from Uncle Giovanni.

How do you know
he has an Uncle Giovanni?

Hey, all Sicilians
got Uncle Giovanni.

And all Sicilians
are good people with big hearts,

happy to see cousin from Italy.

(laughs)

So, they make an invitation
I visit their house.

Free room and board.

Now, Paulo is no pig.

Pass three day,
and I say I go.

And they say, uh,
"Please remain one more week."”

So, New York, Chicago, Boston,

uh, San Francisco.

Hey, uh, bellezza.

Sleep good, eat good.

And turismo cost nothing,
all free.

But why all those people
out there...

Why they mad at me?

What... what wrong I do them?

Now, they accepted you
without question.

They trusted you,
perhaps even loved you.

But you made fools of them.
You hurt them.

But they... they have no right
to... to call me m*rder*r.

Paulo, if they ever get
on the stand,

they'll give Burger a chance
to call you ungrateful,

a swindler, a petty racketeer
and a thief.

Now, let's have the truth
about this telegram.

This the... the telegram
they say I-l write to Bacio?

MASON:
A copy, yes.

It's a thr*at that says
unless he pays you $ , ...

PAULO:
Mr. Mason, please. ll...

I go to school.
I-I do not write...

MASON:
Now I don't believe you, Paulo.

Please, Mr. Mason, ...
I swear to you, I...

I do not send...

-I believe him, Perry.
- MASON: Oh?

In fact, I'm not even sure

that this telegram was sent
by an Italian.

Yes, Paul?

I found the fisherman, Perry.
Uncle Fiastri, remember?

It's in the use of the verb
here-- to earn or to profit.

Tell me tomorrow, Father,

before court,
first thing in the morning.

But Perry...

MASON: We're on our way
to San Francisco.

Della will call you.

(high-pitched whine
of airplane engines)

(doorbell rings)

(click, buzzer sounds)

(door bells tinkle)

MAN:
I'm back in the shop, Mario.

Mario?

Who you?
What do you want?

I'm Perry Mason.
This is Mr. Paul Drake.

We've been trying to get
in touch with you for two days.

- Get out.
- Now look, Mr. Fiastri.

I say, get out!

Do I have to get a court order?

Oh, no, no, no, no,
please, please.

I don't want to get mixed up
in no court business.

Then tell me why you sent Paulo
Porro to visit Enrico Bacio?

Oh, that... (speaks Italian)

Un scherzo. Just a joke.

I am a fool, I know. Idiot.

But how do I know
nice boy like this

has got a black secret
in his heart?

Then there actually is a feud

between the Porros
and the Bacios?

Oh, once there was.

When I'm a little boy
back in Italy, I hear the story.

Porro and Bacio always k*lling
each other like crazy.

But one day,
when this Porro boy come to me,

I don't think
it's even the same family.

Just coincidence, that's all.

Paulo brought you, uh, greetings

from your Uncle Giovanni,
I presume?

How do you know this?

Just tell us something else.

Did you know that old Mr. Bacio
was selling out

and returning to Italy?

Oh, sure. I'm dealing
with Bacio to buy the moulds.

Uh, sculpture,
like this, you know?

But, uh... Bacio's a bad man.

Cash. Always cash.

Half now, half in days.

I say, I give security
to make up the note.

No, he says.

He says with him back in Italy,
I try to crook him!

So, what did you do then?

Hey, wait a minute. Maybe
I better not answer so much

until I talk with my lawyer.

Mr. Fiastri, I'm not concerned
with who owns those moulds now.

I'm only trying
to prevent the state

from sending an innocent
countryman of yours

to the gas chamber for m*rder.

Ah, si, si, si, si.

(clicks tongue)

Poor boy.

That Paulo does not fool me.

You know, I am maybe
the one Italian in all the world

who does not have
an Uncle Giovanni.

But me. Me--I got a big mouth.

I say to the son,

"You tell the old man if
he don't stop calling me crook,

I will fix him so he never
go back to Italy alive.”

You spoke to who?

The son. Son of Bacio.

You know, Massimo, he's called.

I speak with him to help me
make the deal with old Bacione.

That's when I tell him
the old story

about the Porro-Bacio feud.

But I'm only laughing about it.

And what did Massimo say to you?

Well, he laugh, too.

But then he say,
"Send the boy to my father.

Tell the boy nothing."”

He say, uh, "Maybe the boy's
name will scare Papa good,

he'll make the deal,
do what we both want.”

So, I send Paulo.

I help make the joke.

I am a funny man.

A real Pagliaccio. Oh.

But why you don't ask Massimo,
not me?

I didn't know anything
about this Porro kid.

I didn't know who he was.

But you did know
about selling the moulds.

You were upset

because you considered them
your private property.

Of course. My father was
a sculptor, was a true artist.

He made them.

The moulds of his statuary

are the most valuable things
we have.

Then tell me.

Tell me where
those moulds are now.

Now, let me warn you.

I've just returned
from San Francisco

where I talked
with Mr. Fiastri.

GIANGIACOMO: All right, most
of them are still in my truck.

I was going to sell some
to Mr. Fiastri,

and I was going to keep some
for my own shop.

They're mine.

Yes, why haven't you completed
the sale to Mr. Fiastri?

Why haven't you admitted that
you went to the shop that night,

not only to get a few tools,

but to load your truck
with those moulds?

Because I promised Massimo
I would wait.

I promised him I wouldn't.

And for what reason

were you suddenly
being nice to Massimo?

GIANGIACOMO: Because he knew
I wasn't there just at : .

I mean, it took us nearly
an hour to load the truck,

and-and by the time
I drove the truck away,

it was nearly : .

I waited. I didn't want
to take it away

until everybody was asleep.

Uh, but I never saw the old man.

Honestly, I never saw him.

You say it took us an hour
to load the truck?

Us?

Well, her. She helped me.
Serafina.

Of course I help him.

I would help anybody
who wanted to hurt that old man.

years of my life he take.

years.

And he throw it away

like it's... nothing.

(Serafina sighs)

Serafina, when Paulo Porro
first came to the house,

did you know who he was?

Did you know the stories
of the old feud?

Si.

(laughing):
Bacio-- he's terrified

of things like that.

Witches and darkness.

I know that, too.

At that time, you didn't believe
the boy was a k*ller?

Oh, no, no. No.

Not at first, but...
now, of course...

MASON: Then why did you act
so strangely

when he first came to the house?

SERAFINA:
Maybe I was upset.

Bacio-- he was going to Italy.

He was going to leave me for...

Was it because you knew in
advance that Paulo was coming?

SERAFINA (crying):
Oh, no. No, please!

MASON: You've sworn to tell
the truth here, Serafina.

But I not know.

I not know all of it.

Not until he explain...

Him. Massimo.

He even knew where
the young boy was staying.

He was called
by a man from the hotel,

so, I... I help him to scare
the old man, too. That's all.

I did not know it was real.

Why haven't you told us this
before?

Because... Massimo...

Massimo know my sin.

(speaking Italian)

It was... I who struck...

Bacio on the head.

He was going to sh**t
at the truck, at Giangiacomo,

so I-I had to hit him!

Only then... Bacio fell...

and he did not speak.

And I... I run.

I run to get the doctor.

But when... when I got back,

there was police.

Bacio was... dead.

Stabbed.

MASON:
May it please the court,

in the light of this admission,

I would like
to recall a witness.

Go right ahead, Mr. Mason.

I'd like to hear

what Massimo Bacio has to say
for himself, too.

MASON:
Oh, Your Honor,

the witness I would like
to recall is... Mr. Dodson.

Yes, I was Mr. Bacio's lawyer
for many years.

How many years, Mr. Dodson?

,

And in those years,

you've given him legal counsel
on many different problems?

DODSON:
Naturally.

You helped handle his money?

Of course.

MASON: Do you speak Italian,
Mr. Dodson?

No.

You neither read
nor write Italian?

I have no ear for languages.

Besides, Mr. Bacio's English
was fluent.

MASON: Was his English
as fluent years ago

as it was the day he was k*lled?

Well, it improved
over the years.

Were there times,
especially in the beginning,

when you found it convenient
to use a dictionary

to make certain there were
no misunderstandings?

Frequently,

especially in the beginning.

Now I have here two telegrams.

Please read them to me
and tell me

whether or not they are written
in fluent Italian.

Well, I've already stated
I don't read or write Italian.

For your information,

they are literal translations
of English sentences.

That's what's wrong with them.

Mr. Dodson,

why did Mr. Bacio always insist
on dealing in cash?

What? Oh, I don't know.

Was it to evade taxes, possibly?

Well, as a lawyer,
I really couldn't...

MASON:
Yes, Mr. Dodson.

As a lawyer
who helped with those taxes,

if Mr. Bacio had tried to run
off to Italy with his money,

wouldn't you also have been
in trouble with the government?

Well, of course.
Yes, but...

Or couldn't you produce all
of Mr. Bacio's money for him?

No, that's not true!

Now, I did not touch one penny!

But, well,
when I tried to explain,

it takes time to liquidate,
he wouldn't listen.

The blind, stubborn ox
just wanted his cash. His cash!

His cash! He...

So, because of the trouble
this would cause,

you then proceeded
to k*ll Mr. Bacio?

No!

Now, I wasn't out there!
I wasn't!

I did send those telegrams.

Now, I know it was foolish,

but I was desperate.

There were certain funds...

I just wanted
to egg the trouble on,

make Bacio afraid to go back
to Sicily for a while.

- Had no idea
anyone would be hurt.


MASON: And I suppose
Mr. Bacio's son, Massimo,

knew all about this,
too, Mr. Dodson?

Did you k*ll your own father,
Massimo?

Is that why you wanted everyone
to remain silent?

No! No, it is not true!

Did you come back to the shop
and see him lying there?

It is not true, I tell you!

Of course it's not, Mr. Dodson.

Why would he jeopardize himself

by asking others
to remain silent?

If he were the k*ller,

why would he place himself
at their mercy

by suborning their perjury?

I only wanted
to protect my family, my shop.

To protect my business!

But who else could have done it,
Mr. Dodson?

What other individual could have
seen Paulo arriving,

and then after the boy fought
with Bacio and ran away,

have picked up
the m*rder w*apon...?

Serafina?

He was a beast!

He was cruel!

Did you really go for a doctor,
Serafina?

He steal, he punish,

he take, take, take.

All for him, all for Bacio!

Bestia.

(speaking Italian)

Ho sacrifato
tutta la mia vita!

Non ma'h datto niente.

Niente.

(speaking Italian)

...la strada.

Si.

Sono io.

Dio. Dio me perdone.

(speaking Italian)

I k*ll him! I k*ll him!
I k*ll him! I k*ll him!

You know, Paulo,

you are happy, but you have
no right to be happy.

(laughs)
What I do now?

When you received that telegram,
you did something

even Mr. Dodson
didn't expect you to do.

You actually would have tried
to collect $ ,

to which you knew
you weren't entitled.

Collect? Father, why you say
such a thing?

Mr. Mason, do I ask anyone
for money? Never.

Do I take money from anyone?

Never! Uh...

Paulo, why did you go out there
that night?

If-if someone wants
to give me...

Maybe I...
I wanted to see the...

the pretty Elizabeth,
maybe, huh?

DELLA:
Oh, now, leave him

alone.

I'm sure you've learned
your lesson, haven't you, Paulo?

(laughs)

Oh, sure, sure.

First of all, I...

I learn, never to go
to little village of Sciccata.

Oh, you bet!

You mean,
never go back home again?

No, never go the first time.

My home in Naples.

(Paulo laughs)

I knew it.

(speaking Italian)

(theme song playing)
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