We Still Kill the Old Way

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1

To Each His Own

("We Still Kill the Old Way")

Here's the sixth one!

At this rate,

a hundred will arrive!

I kiss your hand!

I don't like this letter.

- Why don't you like it?

It was posted here, in the village,

last night or early this morning.

Look at the letterhead.

Another anonymous letter.

You can go.

They're waiting for your letters.

Goodbye, doctor.

"This letter is your death sentence...

"You will die for what you have done. "

These things disgust me.

What have you done?

Six letters in a month and

still I'm not dead.

It's nonsense...

Don't think about it.

Who's thinking about it?

- Then play.

Six in a month...

Graphomania.

You know all cuckolds

are graphomaniacs.

An anonymous letter in this

village is always dangerous.

I think it's a woman.

- They're joking.

Who's 'they'?

Them.

Come on guys, let's play.

Who's first?

I am.

DIE:

Pass.

Up to three times.

I'm in.

- Yes.

"To Each His Own"

- Two cards.

Manno received another anonymous letter.

I'm not surprised; he spends all

his time chasing after the ladies.

That guy sitting in

front of us at the bar...

do you know him?

No, he's not from around here.

He just bought some rat

poison in the pharmacy...

and he's looking at me strangely.

- I can see you're scared...

but why don't you go to the police,

before you start suspecting everyone,

even passers by?

The police have to investigate...

not us.

I'll pick you up tomorrow morning,

at six. - Okay.

Don't keep me waiting like usual.

- It's certainly a little strange...

why would an outsider come here...

to buy rat poison?

Right, why?

The alarm.

More.

Did you guess the killer?

It was the wife, scheming

with her husband's lover.

Any more anonymous letters?

I'll eat out today.

Did you tell anyone where

we were going?

No.

They can find the good

spots for themselves...

I've got no intention of

breaking my back for others.

Come on, Sonia.

I love Sicily at this hour.

You mean you like it without Sicilians.

What's wrong with you?

I've got a reason to be worried...

but you?

The problem is we can't even

trust our friends anymore.

The bigots have confessionals,

the Americans have psychoanalysis...

but us?

Nothing.

Who are they?

I told you:
You can't find a new

place without someone else finding out.

You see?

They followed us.

Let's make sure they know we're here,

otherwise they might shoot at us.

Hey! We're here as well!

Antonino...

No...

I'll take care of it.

Uncle, stay here with Luisa.

Let me take care of it.

Commissioner, I'd like to spare my

cousin Luisa, Roscio's wife, the pain.

Sure, advocate.

Come.

Did you find him?

- Yes.

Lift it.

Why?

Yes, he's my cousin.

My cousin Luisa's husband, Dr. Roscio.

Yes, the pharmacist -

my friend, Manno.

Do you know anything about

the anonymous letters?

I know what everyone else knows.

Manno didn't hide anything.

How many did he receive?

I don't know.

I couldn't tell you.

Did you see them?

No, no.

All I know is Dr. Roscio, my poor cousin,

didn't have any enemies, understand?

He was a highly respected doctor,

I would even say loved...

Perhaps he was killed by mistake...

because he saw something.

The thought of it is unbearable.

Do you know if Manno

was having an affair?

Please, let me go.

Did you see, advocate?

Did you see what they've done?

He didn't have any enemies.

It's impossible to get a

match on the cartridge cases...

there were ten of them, and some

were fired by Manno and Roscio.

There was a car nearby...

we found numerous cigarette stubs...

'Branca'.

Branca cigarettes.

They killed him! He was my life!

Don't be like this, madam.

You're making it worse.

Open up, Paolo.

The inspector's here.

You see, inspector?

He's been locked up in his room...

he doesn't want to see anyone,

although I have...

Come in, inspector.

How do you feel, my son?

They were very close.

- La Marca.

What do you want from me?

Any woman in the

village will know more.

Look, my mother's here,

she's well informed...

then there are his

friends from the village...

That's right, you spend very

little time in the village.

Only in the summer.

Sure, the exams last until July

and they start again in September...

then he teaches in Palermo,

you understand, Inspector...

He's so tired when he comes home,

he takes the train because he can't drive.

He's away from all the quarrelling.

He's always here reading and writing.

Isn't that true, Paolo?

Yes, she's trying to say I'm abstracted.

That's right...

distracted.

You have at least heard about

the anonymous letters he received?

Yes.

Did you see one?

Did you read any of them?

No.

Strange.

Look in the pharmacy.

Why?

- Yes, it's simple...

he would've kept them there,

so his wife wouldn't see them.

It's only natural.

You mean Mrs. Manno was

jealous of her husband?

I didn't say that.

However...

do you know his wife?

- Yes.

You only need to look at

her to not have any doubts!

A marriage of convenience.

- This is all petty speculation.

I'm sorry to have disturbed you.

I'll leave you to your meditation.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

I almost forgot:
I checked the pharmacy,

but there was no trace of the letters.

Mrs Manno is a very honest woman as far as I know,

an unusually virtuous woman

but she's ugly, poor her,

the ugliest woman God could ever create!

And that poor pharmacist was a ways doing his dirty tricks to her

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