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Chazarreta. The victim is Pedro Chazarreta.
ONLY IF YOU LOVE ME
- You want a quick coffee? - No, no.
- You sure? - I'm in a hurry.
Okay. This is what he sent us.
His wife really liked your article about the golfer,
so you can use that.
Then there's the title: "Untying the Knots of the Soul".
- Pretty metaphor. - Well, there you have it.
Nobody's forcing you to do this.
Don't start.
Let's have lunch this week.
- We haven't talked in ages. - So you can untie my knots?
Anything to get you back. I'm out of excuses
to explain why we're not publishing your new novel.
Give it up, Carlos. There is no new novel and there never will be.
Save that lunch for one of your new authors.
- Come on, Nurit... - Bye.
- I've gotta go. See you later. - Yeah, right.
- Brena. - Thanks.
International will be covering Syria.
Wait, we also have the crisis in Greece.
No. Definitely Syria, okay?
- Sports, Messi, obviously. - Let me see.
A study from the University of Massachusetts
proves that men prefer to sleep face-up and women face-down.
So crushing your balls hurts more than crushing your tits.
One day of menstrual cramps,
sore balls will feel like a caress.
That's what I need, someone to caress me.
- Right now? - It wouldn't hurt.
I'll leave before I get silly.
Excuse me, where can I find
the section directory?
- What do you need? - The directory.
Tell me whose number you need and I'll give it to you.
The directory.
There you have it.
Nothing more recent, something digital?
Tell me whose number you need and I'll give it to you.
No, this is fine, thank you.
Remember you have to dial 4 before the number...
VOLUNTARY RETIREMENT
- Brena. - It's me.
I've got something that will knock you on your ass.
Then I'd better sit down.
Chazarreta was found dead.
- ¿Pedro Chazarreta? - That's right.
In La Maravillosa. Apparently his throat was slit.
That's all I know.
- I've gotta go... - Gato, Gato...
- Bugs everywhere.
If anyone asks for me, I'll be right back.
One.
Hello? Karina? Brena.
Yeah, listen. I need you to do me a favor.
CHAZARRETA- THROAT SLIT? LA MARAVILLOSA
He didn't say anything else?
No, just to tell you about the note.
Hi, this is Brena. Leave a message.
- He didn't answer? - No.
Yeah, he disconnects sometimes.
He isn't screwing with me because I'm new...
No. He doesn't screw around with these things.
Okay. Thanks.
This is police chief Venturini's personal cell number.
Call him and tell me how it goes.
Mariano... We'll go with the front page.
Hi, this is Nurit. Leave a message after the beep.
Lorenzo?
- What are you doing? - Ringing the bell.
Yeah, I can see...
What's up? How are you?
You look the same.
I have to go, someone's picking me up. What happened?
Pedro Chazarreta was found dead.
- When? - A few hours ago, at his home.
Slit throat. Very similar to Gloria Echagüe.
I need a column from you and you can't say no this time.
No, no, no.
And here's the good part.
I got a house at La Maravillosa.
It's all yours. What do you say?
I'm grateful, but no. I really am in a hurry.
It's been long enough, hasn't it? This is just work.
- Why didn't you call first? - A non-fiction column in the paper
could bring you back.
I don't want to come back. I have work.
As a nanny?
No, as a ghost writer. Why come to me?
Listen to me, Nurit. This case will be huge.
We want to give it special coverage.
And to do that we need
what Argentinean literature's Dark Lady does so well:
observe and write things that grab people.
That's all. Nothing else. Work.
- I can't believe my eyes. - Should we leave?
No. What is that jerk doing here again?
Look. Think it over,
I'll call you and you can say yes or no.
Okay?
You look beautiful.
Two other defendants were acquitted.
We remind you that today's hearings
will be held in La Plata.
More news.
We're covering today's big story:
Pedro Chazarreta's death.
He had been previously accused of murdering his wife, Gloria Echagüe.
Here's what he told Jaime Brena
minutes after being acquitted.
That's what happened to me.
I don't know what I'd have to say to not look guilty,
which you've apparently established.
I had to say I ran to her body and wept inconsolably.
The thing is, people here have made up their minds.
They think they know the truth.
It's a very Argentinean trait, typical of people here.
What do people in the street say?
They support me. They know I'm innocent.
But based on what you just said, it seems quite the opposite.
Make no mistake, I'm an ordinary man.
Do I have to explain the difference
between a successful man and a powerful one?
Powerful men are untouchable.
Nothing reaches them. Nothing touches them.
I'm a successful man.
Hi.
Hi, Nurit. It's Carlos.
You won't insist, right?
I have bad news. They cancelled the collection.
Cancelled it?
I just found out. There's nothing I can do.
That's awful.
I know, I'm very sorry.
So "Untying the Knots" is the last one?
No, Nurit. They cancelled everything.
I thought it was strange you hadn't come to cash in your favor.
They sent me to Siberia. Any marks?
None. What did you do?
I talked too much. Knife imprint?
Upwards, lacerating artery vessels.
Not self-inflicted. What did you say?
On the evening news.
That I read the competition because I believe it more than the Tribune.
You said that? What a schmuck.
Whoever did this is a professional.
Or a lucky first-timer.
All set. Last time I almost got fired.
You came, you saw... and now you're gone.
Here you go.
We'll do a great job.
I'm glad you accepted.
How are your bosses handling the crisis?
You can imagine.
Well, at least they've managed to avoid bankruptcy in Spain
thanks to their profits in South America.
Not the first time it's happened.
Very funny. We're doing well here.
The modernization plan is on track and we're still diversifying.
By the way, did you know our group bought your publisher?
Yeah, I know. You're becoming quite a media conglomerate.
- Congratulations. - Thanks.
I think. I can never tell with you.
Come in.
This is Mariano Saravia, our new Crime chief.
- It's a pleasure. - How are you?
You already know Nurit will be in La Maravillosa
to get the inside story.
I think it's a great idea. Nurit Iscar at the Tribune.
It will spice up the case.
You two stay in contact. If you need anything, ask Brena.
No matter what he says, he has to help you.
Nurit's reports will go out the day after tomorrow.
Unless you reach today's deadline.
- Half a page. Maybe. - Half a page?
- Too much or not enough? - No...
Don't get me wrong,
I'm just worried about space for other news.
If you've got so much good stuff,
we'll give her a special page in another section.
- Anything else? - No.
- I'm going to finish a story. - Go on.
- Nice meeting you. - Bye.
I'm going too.
I have a long drive ahead of me.
Think you'll have anything today?
Don't pressure me, Lorenzo. We only just started.
I missed you, Betibú.
I'll send you something soon.
I'm leaving. We'll be in touch, okay?
- Okay, thanks. - Bye.
- Sorry. - No problem. No problem.
What was Betibú doing here?
- Who? - Nurit Iscar.
Rinaldi hired her to write about the Chazarreta case.
He also said you had information for me
about his wife's murder.
Wow, the Kaiser had an idea there.
Did you ever read "A Slow Death"? "The Shadow Between us"?
No, I don't read crime novels.
The archive is over there.
Under C for Chazarreta you'll find everything I wrote on the subject.
Okay. I'll call you if I need anything else.
Yeah, do that.
Ma'am, there's nobody in the house to authorize your entry.
No, there's nobody there. I'm coming to stay there.
But we don't have authorization to let you through.
I have the key. I wouldn't have it if I weren't authorized.
It wouldn't be the first time, ma'am.
Okay, then call the owner.
We tried but there's nobody at the house.
No, not at the house. Try calling him somewhere else.
His cell maybe...
We don't have personal information on members,
- only the house numbers. - Okay.
- Then I'll call him. - Fine.
Please move your car to clear the gate.
- Until we get authorization. - We'll move it right now.
- Sir, you can't park here. - Okay, I'll move it.
Wait. Why not?
No one can park in front of the country club.
Why not? I don't see any official signs forbidding it.
It's club policy.
But the club has no jurisdiction
over a public city street.
The orders come from above.
All I see are clouds up there.
There's no parking here. Are you listening?
You're the one who isn't listening.
- Ma'am, I'll just move the car. - No, you won't.
The lady has been given authorization.
Perfect.
At least he can't spit in your food.
- Never let people push you around. - There are lost causes.
Yes, that's true.
It's a day like any other here at La Maravillosa.
You walk in the shade of its trees
and you dream that nothing bad will ever happen to you here, behind the wall.
Nevertheless, someone got past the security checkpoints
and killed Pedro Chazarreta in his own home.
Or the murderer was on this side of the wall the whole time and still is.
What is more disturbing for the people who live here?
Thinking a killer might be living among them
or knowing the wall that protects them can be breached?
La Maravillosa. Absences that raise questions.
- Someone's in trouble. - I'll call you in 5 minutes.
Why have they published information
we don't even have? Can you explain it to me?
I don't know. Venturini and the D.A.
said they had no news.
But they had news for Lidijover. Brena!
- I double checked... - Good luck.
Brena, get over here.
Call Nurit. Have her authorize you for a visit tomorrow.
Brena, you know the place.
Go with him and help him with anything he needs.
- Is that okay, Mariano? - I don't think it's necessary.
- I won't have any trouble. - It's necessary.
Excuse me, Rinaldi. I thought you took me off Crime.
Don't give me that bullshit. You're going, period.
Since you asked nicely...
I'll ask however the fuck I want.
The photo from the D.A., kid. Trading info for gossip.
It's Lidijover's specialty.
CHAZARRETA CASE: NEW SIGNS POINT TO VIOLENT ROBBERY
- Are you sure this is it? - That's what it says.
- Hello. Get out! - Hi.
- How are you? Hi. - Brena.
I see my colleague didn't tell you I was coming.
Nurit Iscar. How's your knee?
They had to operate, but it came out fine.
Right...
Sorry...
Friends, my son, my son's friends...
The house has been taken.
And this thing won't stop barking.
Get me out of here and I'll go happily.
- Good morning. - Morning.
How's it going? We're reporters from the Tribune.
- Police Chief Venturini? - He already left.
- Has he been gone long? - No.
Can we go inside the house?
I'm sorry, it's been sealed.
And the backyard?
I'm sorry, there's an investigation underway.
Nobody can go in, especially reporters.
Hi, Chief. How are you? It's Jaime Brena.
Okay, Chief. I'll let you know. I'll let you know.
Very kind of you.
Please don't touch anything.
We'll visit the house together.
This is where they found Gloria Echagüe's body.
Yes. I was obsessed with that case.
Who wasn't?
- Please, ma'am. Stay together. - Sorry.
Can I take a photo?
As long as you don't publish it.
Sorry. I'm Police Chief Venturini.
Police Chief Carlos Venturini. Nice to meet you. At your service.
- How are you? - Ms. "Nuri" Iscar.
Nurit Iscar.
Nurit Iscar. Sorry.
- Can I take a photo? - Sure, go ahead.
How are you, chief?
The truth is, I was nearby,
Brena said you were here and I came especially to meet you.
- I admire your work very much. - Thank you.
- Please. - Excuse me.
You can leave us.
Excuse me, are you helping Brena?
No, sir. We spoke the other day. Mariano Saravia.
The new head of the Crime section.
- What did you do? - Are you surprised, chief?
I'm surprised they didn't do it sooner.
Sir, do you know what Chazarreta was doing when he was killed?
He was drinking one of these. Or several...
judging by the quantity of alcohol in his blood.
What else was he doing besides drowning himself in whisky?
Maybe he was reading "Continuidad de los parques."
You don't read crime novels, but you do read Cortázar.
I'll make a list of everything I read for your approval.
He was listening to music too.
The record player was turning the whole weekend.
- Was anything taken? - Yeah...
but that's still confidential.
- They took a good whisky. - Yes.
This place was like his refuge. He never left.
It's exactly like when I interviewed him.
Excuse me. Will you sign it for me?
I don't think Chazarreta will mind if I keep it.
Oh, sorry.
My wife will be insanely jealous when she reads it.
Thank you very much.
He was a jazz fanatic.
I used that when I interviewed him.
Do you like jazz?
Yes. It bores me a bit, but I like it.
That's because nobody ever took you dancing.
Venturini!
- You know Collazo? - Chazarreta's friend.
Another proud inhabitant of La Maravillosa.
He defended Chazarreta to the media during his trial.
What was Venturini doing there?
- A police mystery. - The mystery is this country.
Imagine the judge trying to figure out
what the thieves took and what the police took for souvenirs.
It wasn't a robbery.
- How do you know? - The body was completely clean
besides the cut.
- And? - No signs of violence?
Nothing. There would have been signs of a struggle.
The thieves would have surprised Chazarreta.
They would have tried to make him talk.
Why was he completely untouched?
It's strange.
We should talk to whoever found the body.
Romancito. Keep it down, son.
He didn't have any children.
He had a brother, but they hadn't seen each other for ages.
So you stayed with him until the police got there?
Yes, sir. Then Mr. Collazo showed up.
He handled it from there. They had to get me out of there,
my blood pressure was rising.
What did Mr. Collazo do when he got there?
He talked to the police, to the security people...
He organized everything.
Román!
Come here, champ. Come here.
If you stop making noise with that thing,
I'll give you the other half when you leave.
Have you noticed any changes in the house lately?
Not that I'm aware of.
Furniture in a different place
or any objects missing?
Did you see the small table in his studio?
- The one by the record player? - Yes.
There's an empty picture frame.
- You mean the silver one? - Yeah.
It's been empty for a while.
Do you remember the photo?
Yes. Mr. Chazarreta with his friends when they were young.
Why did Chazarreta remove the photo?
I don't think he did.
He came home furious one day
and made me search everywhere for that photo.
Excuse me, Mariano, sir. I have to go now.
I said I'd give her a ride to work nearby.
Okay.
Do you remember when the photo was removed?
Yes, in September of last year. The first day of Spring.
It was Romancito's birthday.
I got home so late that day my husband almost killed me.
They were waiting to cut the cake.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
- Goodbye. - Bye.
Let's go, son.
- Child control system? - Works every time, Betibú.
Do you mind me calling you Betibú?
No, no. It's not the name, it's howl got it.
How did you get it?
Rinaldi gave it to me a while back and it stuck.
He says that?
Yes. It doesn't suit me, I know. Why?
No reason.
The night Chazarreta was killed
his attic became a silent witness to his murder.
A half-open drawer, an empty picture frame,
or a missing book...
Dissonant elements that require order.
Are there any clues of the crime here?
Or are we the ones who need to make sense out of it?
We're always looking for signs
where there are only simple objects.
I hope it's important.
It's Mariano. You weren't asleep, were you?
Like a log.
Sorry.
I need Chazarreta's brother's phone number. Have you got it?
Brena?
He's coming back.
Remember, I ask the questions.
These people don't like talking to the media.
They need to be softened up.
Want something strong to drink?
No, thank you.
- What were we talking about? - Your brother.
My brother, right. My brother was a son of a bitch.
- Any special reason? - In general.
He liked fucking people over.
His favorite thing to do. That's how he was.
The last thing he did was sell La Chacrita
- just to piss me off. - La Chacrita?
Did you see the gate down there
with the big arch? That's it.
Why just to piss you off?
Ever since he inherited it,
I tried to buy it from him and he always refused.
I would never have let someone outside the family buy it.
But he ended up selling it to a Gandolfini
for a ton of cash.
I can't get it back now. Son of a bitch. Have you got siblings?
No.
Then you don't understand. You?
Five, but there's nothing to split. Who's Gandolfini?
What were their names? Rosario's kids...
They were always together, kind of weird...
Ariel... Arturo. Arturo Gandolfini.
Have you got his number?
In the house. I'll give it to you.
Do you know Luis Collazo?
Another son of a bitch.
Always with Pedro, ever since the Furies.
The Furies?
My brother made it up when they were students.
Some sort of vigilante group with moral and ethical pretensions.
Very fashionable back then.
Really just a bunch of thugs
who wanted to harass the students.
Sadists with imagination.
Real motherfuckers.
Your son and his friends. Will they show up at our house
out of the blue again?
- Our house? - What nerve!
- They're unbelievable. - Bad girls.
I came here so you can get some sun
and you stop ostracizing yourself
- and look how you treat me. - Pass me the phone.
- The pinhead. - Give it to me.
- Where are you going? - To talk.
Talk here, your friends will keep you in line.
- It's work. - Exactly, talk in front of us.
Come on.
- Hello, Lorenzo. - Hi, how are you?
- He hurt you. - Fine, great.
I just read your new column. It's wonderful.
That's great, I'm glad.
Let's have lunch together.
- No. - Why not?
I'm trying to get some work done...
I know a restaurant with the best lasagna ever.
We owe it to ourselves. I'll pick you up.
- What time? - One o clock?
- Okay, I'll be here. - Great. Bye.
We're screwed.
I have a good feeling about our coverage.
So far your work has been excellent.
- I'm glad. - Your writing still surprises me,
you haven't lost your touch.
And Mariano's still a bit green, but he's doing well, right?
What did Brena do that was so bad?
He's a big mouth. He was good at what he did,
but the years have taken their toll. I had no choice.
I need enthusiastic young people
who want to grow, like Mariano.
They want to grow, but earn five times less.
There's also the ecological point of view.
Everything is a cycle. Some leave, others come in.
Some suffer, others enjoy life. Like us.
Remember what a good time we had?
How is your wife?
Fine. Marisa is fine.
It's out of order.
The intercom, what a great invention.
Wait, Brena. I'm looking for a number.
Keep looking.
Son of a bitch...
I bet Fat Marchi loved you
using that gadget all the time.
Fat Marchi? Who's Fat Marchi?
A journalist from Córdoba and you don't know him?
I never worked in Córdoba.
I finished school, did a Master's in London,
worked in Barcelona and I just got back.
- You never covered crime before? - No.
I told Rinaldi I was better qualified for other sections,
but he insisted.
What?
Run! Run!
Come on! Jump!
- Careful! - Come on, open the door!
Did you write another crime novel?
No.
I assumed you would after...
"Only if you Love me" got such bad reviews
and sold so few copies.
No, there's no next novel.
Why not?
I quit writing.
You? I don't believe it.
Can I make a confession?
I never understood why we stopped seeing each other after that trip.
I understand the situation, my wife...
But we both were aware of it.
And we enjoyed being with each other.
We had fun, right?
Yes, we had fun.
Besides, that trip was special. Remember the last night on the balcony?
Yes.
I remember we said that we could die
happy, satisfied with life. Remember?
I said I could die that night.
You were having fun thinking about the next day's headlines:
"Tribune's new director
found dead with his lover in a hotel in Patagonia."
You're bad.
- No. I have a good memory. - You're charming.
I won't let you suddenly disappear again, Betibú.
Disappear from where?
You always liked making things hard on me. It's fine, I like it.
I've been thinking about you for a while.
Did you know I had surgery last month?
No. Something bad?
No, nothing bad. I got out last week. Prostate.
Listen... I booked a suite
in a beautiful, discreet hotel nearby.
Want to try it out, Betibú?
Try what out?
- What do you think? - No, Lorenzo, no. You know what?
I thought about it. Try it out with your wife.
After so many years, who knows you better?
Know what he said? "What a shame, Betibú.
We would have had fun. You playing nurse to my Lorencito."
- You're kidding. - He's a son of a bitch!
- He didn't say that! - He's a son of a bitch!
What about me?
Gambling everything on a situation
that only made me feel stupid.
And it wasn't just a drunk weekend. It was two years. Two years!
You weren't wrong to gamble, honey.
You just bet all your chips on a shitty number.
How awful.
Do you realize that before
we only had to put up with surgery on a meniscus, a kneecap...
A hernia, maybe... But not this. Not a prostate!
You two are horrible!
We repeat, only moments ago
on a campus in Florida
a shooting has left one dead and two injured.
Police suspect the madman...
They're saying it's the same guy.
- He just got out. - Americans...
Police are still looking for the suspect and have surrounded the university.
Tensions are high
and the students remain inside the buildings.
Yeah?
- What? - You wanted to tell me something?
- No. - I thought...
Can I tell you something?
I really like your nose.
It's like a drawing of a Greek jar.
Nobody's ever told you that you had a Greek profile?
I'll let you work.
Hi, I'm a reporter from the Tribune, looking for Arturo Gandolfini.
CHAZARRETA PREPARES FOR TRIAL
LA RURAL OPENED WITH PROMISES
THE FURIES (MYTHOLOGY)
The Furies in Roman mythology
were female characters who chased down criminals.
Another one. Marcos Miranda.
Brena, stop screwing around and use a computer.
You made it here without a GPS.
Here. Nurit sent her latest report and a photo.
- You can't see shit. - Yeah, I know.
After we go to press I'll see if I can improve it.
Miranda, Marcos.
Bring it back to me in order.
Santomé, the day you retire
this place will turn into a cemetery.
"Retired military officer killed in hunting accident."
Keep reading.
"Retired military officer Marcos Miranda
was killed after accidentally firing his rifle
while hunting wild boar at a game reserve in Zapala."
"The hunter was alone at the time of the accident
and when they found his body he'd been dead for over 11 hours."
"Marcos Miranda, retired Lieutenant General,
personal friend of Collazo and Chazarreta,
godfather at both their weddings,
Collazo and Chazarreta's main government contact."
When did this happen?
Two months ago.
If the dead could speak, there would be more justice in the world.
We wouldn't have to try to interpret the signs they leave us.
We'd simply listen to what they have to tell us.
But the dead don't always want their truth to be known.
If Chazarreta's ghost appeared today before us,
would he tell us who killed him? Or would he rather keep quiet?
Ma'am.
- Hi. - What are you doing?
I was taking a photo.
There was a blackbird in the window, but it flew away.
You can't take photos without authorization.
I didn't know. With so many birds...
I need authorization to photograph nature?
- I'll get right on that. - It's club policy, ma'am.
All right, sweetie. I won't argue with you today.
- You're from the Tribune, right? - How are you? Mariano Saravia.
- Gandolfini, pleasure. - Brena.
Sorry to make you come here,
I had a last minute meeting.
I only have a few seconds. Why are you looking for Arturo?
You're not Arturo Gandolfini?
No, I'm Roberto, his brother.
My son didn't tell you on Facebook?
No, your son never answered me.
That's why I thought you were Arturo when you called.
Teenagers. What do you need him for?
To ask him a few questions about Chazarreta.
What's my brother got to do with him?
We know they had a real estate transaction not long ago.
Yes, he bought La Chacrita. Please, come with me.
We'd like to speak to him.
I think there's a misunderstanding.
My brother died last year.
You think my brother had something to do
with Chazarreta's death?
Not directly. We're sorry,
we didn't know your brother was dead.
He bought a property from Chazarreta
at quite a high price and we'd like to know why.
I can tell you that, my sister-in-law insisted.
Some husbands buy their wives a shop in Palermo,
others an NGO. My brother, a house in the country.
She wanted to live out of town
and he bought Chazarreta off. Excuse me, this is going up.
Ask my secretary for an appointment anytime. Excuse me.
Look. I'll explain after.
Who are you with?
A co-worker, Gato. I want you to meet him.
- How long have you known him? - No, he's new.
Who recommended him?
How should I know? Stop screwing around and open up.
It was hard to find, eh? You want a bill?
- Bill the Tribune, as usual. - Right.
Have you been cleaning up?
Don't piss me off.
Hold on... Cell phones.
Give me your cell phone.
- What for? - Give it to me.
- He asked for your cell. - Come on.
Here. The rectancy.
Look.
- How did you get this? - Where?
Reporters sell their asses for two bucks. Imagine TV people.
You were a reporter, you did the same thing.
Nonsense.
I have new information about the Organization.
Tell me where we need to look.
- You're not interested? - Sure I am.
Why don't you show him the archive?
I don't trust this guy one bit.
- You sure about him? - He's the new head of Crime.
You'll have to work out the money with him now.
- This way, please. - He's going to show you the archive.
Go on, it's great.
This is the most complete archive
on the Organization's secret activities.
And here are their last movements.
Why are your hands in your pockets? Can I see them?
I'll explain another very interesting topic.
Independiente, Palmeiras and River are dropping to the B league.
Why?
Because they came in last?
No.
No, that's not why. It's been negotiated.
Negotiated with the real estate companies.
They're buying up all the downtown areas
all across Latin America.
The Organization has been subcontracted to...
- ¡Gato! - What's the problem? I'm coming!
- Got it? - I found it.
- Fast forward a bit. - With this?
There it is.
A gift, huh?
Chazarreta and Miranda who are both dead
and Collazo.
That photo doesn't tell me anything. I'm sorry.
But all I see are five kids playing.
This is the photo that disappeared.
And according to Gladys,
it disappeared on September 21st or a few days earlier.
We need to find out why and who took it. Right?
- What's that look for? - No...
This is like being inside one of your novels.
- Nonsense. - No, not at all.
Real investigations still aren't that entertaining.
- Excuse me. - Yeah.
Look.
Bengoechea, here.
The Argentinean killed in the U.S. A friend of Chazarreta's.
"He'd been living there since 1980.
Surgeon, single, no children", and that's all.
Well, we might be missing something.
We should confirm that he's in the photo as well.
Our correspondent in Miami thinks our idea is crazy.
The FBI has been after the wacko with the rifle for ages.
He's killed like 11 people.
Bengoechea was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I'll let you know if we find anything.
Thanks, Brena.
You're welcome, Betibú.
What?
"Thanks, Brena."
What dummies!
What are you doing? Where are you going?
For a walk.
You're going out here at this hour?
- I can't sleep. - Why all the mystery?
I like being in nature.
Oh, God... Just around the block!
GENERAL URQUIZA MILITARY SCHOOL
Hello, good morning. I have a question.
My uncle just died.
And, well, the last thing he asked of us before he died
was to make sure his classmates
were all at the ceremony.
The thing is, we don't have any information...
We don't have anything. Well, actually, we have...
a photo.
My uncle's name was Marcos Miranda. He's this one here.
He went to this school, he was a student.
And these are his classmates.
If I could access the files,
maybe find information, a name...
No, ma'am. The files aren't public.
I can't just show them to anyone.
Here, Norma.
Can you take this to the colonel for his signature?
Yes, sir. Excuse me.
Do you recognize this man by any chance?
Come with me.
Where are we going?
Don't worry, I think I can help you.
Okay. Take your time,
I think you'll find his year.
If anyone asks you, say Major Tomaselli let you in.
Thank you very much.
I'm sorry about your uncle.
Good luck.
Chazarreta, Miranda and Collazo.
The Furies.
This is Bengaochea... and this is Gandolfini.
Arturo Gandolfini, who bought La Chacrita?
Yes.
I can get this in before we go to press.
Don't burn it yet.
- So we go with nothing? - We still don't have anything.
I don't want a pack of lawyers attacking the paper.
We need to keep working. Find more.
Dig into their deaths, talk to their families.
And Collazo?
We need to bait him. And watch out.
You need to get out of there.
- You're sure about Collazo. - You aren't?
I have my doubts. Something doesn't fit.
Our encounter was... strange.
He saw you, he's armed and he lives 300 meters away from where you sleep.
You need to leave right away.
You leave today. Come in!
- Go with her to get her stuff. - Excuse me.
Brena, Gato says it's urgent. I said you were in a meeting,
but he says it's about Chazarreta.
That otherwise he'll call Lidijover.
- I'll start with Roberto Gandalfini. - Yeah...
- It'll be fine. - I hate to leave now.
We were close, I think.
I don't care. I can't risk something happening to you.
The glow is back in your eyes. I was right.
Right about what?
I knew this would get you back on track.
You had it all planned.
Yes, of course I did.
I care about you. I know you.
Not like that schmuck publisher of yours.
My publisher? What's Carlos have to do with this?
Well, he obviously wasn't doing his job well.
I told him the other day.
When did you talk to Carlos about me?
I did you a favor, that's all.
Excuse me. Nurit, we're leaving.
Come in, come in.
- Who is she? I don't know her. - Cut the crap.
- Knock it off already. - Cut the crap?
No, this is mine. No!
This was hard to get, I'm serious.
I asked for favors, went out of my way. Seriously.
Go ahead. Look closely. Take a good look.
- What? - What, what?
- Who is it? - You don't recognize him? Chazarreta.
- I know that. - Look closely...
What are you doing? Stop it!
- He's at River Stadium on the day... - Let's go.
- Wait a second. - What?
Look closely,
I'm showing you something informative here.
He's angry. Why?
Because River got sent down to the B league. The Organization...
Call Lidijover, he'll be interested.
Listen, I know I exaggerate a little sometimes.
You think I don't know that?
Sometimes I screw up, right?
But I'm in danger here. I'm being followed. I'm serious.
No, I'm not paranoid. There are people out there waiting for me.
Following my every move...
- How much? - Five thousand.
One, two, how about 200?
Okay. Here.
Thanks.
Where did you get this?
The original went missing from Chazarreta's house.
They're all dead except Collazo.
You think he might have done it?
Being the only survivor doesn't help.
Have you ever thought your brother might have been killed?
My brother committed suicide.
Actually we're trying to find something
that links them all to the present.
I'd really like to help, but Arturo and I
had no contact with them after high school.
Only the purchase of La Chacrita.
Only that.
You and your brother weren't friends with them.
No. Well, my brother went to school with all of them,
but they never hung out. I was younger.
So Arturo was never a part of the Furies.
- The Furies? - Ring a bell?
Yes, but I hadn't heard about them in ages.
No, my brother had nothing to do with them.
They weren't normal boys.
The truth is, when I heard Chazarreta killed his wife,
I wasn't surprised. He and Collazo were the worst.
Have you any idea who might have taken it?
It could have been any kid, even me.
I hung around my brother a lot back then,
but honestly I don't remember.
The case is still open, but tonight I had to leave La Maravillosa.
I'm going home with more questions than answers.
Sometimes the closer we think we are to the truth,
the farther away we are from it.
Isn't that Collazo's wife?
Venturini didn't listen to me.
Let's go.
- Thank you, sir. - You're welcome, Betibú.
- Anyway... - Will you be okay?
Yeah. After a hot bath
and a whisky, I'll be fine.
- Bye. - Bye.
- Hi. - Thanks.
- Hi. - Hi, mom.
- Hi. - Hi.
- We had a blackout
so we brought the meeting here. Do you mind?
The meeting?
What are you doing here?
It's TV night, but look.
Mom, it's for you.
It happened again.
- Have you got the photo handy? - Yes.
- Let's see... - Hold on.
See? Right there. Yeah, it's the same one.
Wait. Are you sure?
- Right? - Yeah.
Here. So you won't get dirty.
How many?
Put them all in there, these dogs are nervous.
Brena!
- Open the door! - Hurry!
- Careful... - Open this side!
Hi!
- How are you? - Good morning.
We're reporters from the Tribune
and we'd like to talk to Mrs. Gandolfini.
We have a photo in which your husband appears
and we'd like you to see it.
Vinicio!
- Go ahead. - Thank you.
This is the photo.
This is where it was taken.
Had you ever seen the photo?
No. Vinicio found him here.
And what happened?
Last year my husband came home
and said he'd bought this property
and we moved in the next day.
That same night he lit the place on fire
and hung himself from that beam.
What day was that?
September 22nd.
Why do you think he decided to do that?
Ma'am...
We don't want to upset you.
We'll leave if you like.
But if you remember anything, it could be important.
This will be my last column.
I won't be writing anymore about the Chazarreta case
or the mystery surrounding his death.
Sometimes reality generates questions
with answers we can only find in our imagination.
That's why I'm going back to fiction.
And I'm doing it with a tale
about two brothers, a photograph and a pact of silence
broken 40 years later
in the same place where it all began.
Come on, take it!
The thing is, people here have made up their minds.
They think they know the truth.
It's a very Argentinean trait.
They're not interested in knowing what happened.
They only want to adjust what happened to their own truth.
When the older brother saw that photograph on display like a trophy,
he felt the precarious balance built over the years
had been broken forever.
That's when he decided.
The first thing he did was buy the place.
Getting the money was no problem.
The hard part was facing one of them without reacting,
without tipping off his plan.
He followed every step of his plan
like an automaton.
But it wasn't him anymore, it was someone else in his body.
Barely a witness to his own actions.
He arrived in the country with his wife.
He gave her no explanation.
And she didn't ask for one.
He only left two envelopes,
one for her and another for his brother.
There was not a single word in the envelope.
The younger brother didn't need them.
Arturito, Arturito! Arturito, Arturito!
- Hold him! - What are you doing, Arturito?
- Asshole! - Chickenshit!
For the first time in many years,
the younger brother felt free.
Now he was going to do what he didn't dare back then.
He had the means he needed
to not have to do it himself.
Someone put him in touch with an organization
that would handle everything.
They had to be arbitrary, unconnected deaths
that would never raise suspicion.
They died one by one.
The job was completed in a few months' time.
They left no trail or witnesses.
The younger brother thinks that everything is finally over.
He'd like to talk to his brother,
tell him what he did for him, for both of them.
But something still troubles him.
He still doesn't know what it is.
He might never know.
Congratulations, your power of observation is remarkable.
The ending is a bit moralistic.
The part about revenge making no sense.
But the question you raise there isn't bad.
What question?
What's the point of an act of justice with no witnesses?
I was going to burn it but you changed my mind.
Some day I'll have to tell my son
who these sons of bitches I had to kill were.
And you... What's your plan?
They'll come after you with everything they've got.
Who are they?
Don't play dumb.
You called them the Organization.
The meeting with the woman in the suit...
is a bit of a stereotype,
but that's basically how it works.
It's the oldest equation in the world.
Someone with a need,
someone with the possibility to satisfy it,
and between them, a simple financial transaction.
If it's any help, I also... would like to believe
you have a chance to publish all this.
Yes, for people to know what my brother had to go through.
But I won't get my hopes up.
What's above us is untouchable.
Don't worry.
Tomorrow everyone will know your brother's story.
Of course, you still don't understand
what you're up against.
It makes sense, it's too much for one chat.
Isn't it a little late to threaten us?
I can already imagine tomorrow's headlines:
"Experienced crime reporter
dies in his bed of cardiac arrest."
Who would ever notice
a man like you having a sudden heart attack?
"Argentinean Literature's Dark Lady suffers a Tragic Accident.
A compulsive reader, she opens the elevator door distracted...
and falls to her death." How does that sound?
Car accidents,
absurd deaths in violent robberies...
This city generously provides
different ways to die that nobody will suspect.
Pay Gato a visit.
See if he has anything we can use.
I'll go and see Venturini and see what he says.
I'll drop you off at the paper on the way.
Tell Rinaldi to hold the presses for us.
We have to print something today.
Gato!
Is he alone?
He's downstairs in the printing room.
If you're here to say goodbye,
I can order champagne. How about it?
Save the money, chief.
I'll leave retirement to the brave.
Free time is poison to me.
Are you here to bust my balls?
What progress have you made on the Chazarreta case?
I just confirmed, it's all under control.
Three kids from a slum near La Maravillosa
robbed other houses and Chazarreta was unlucky
to be awake at dawn. That's what happened.
I just interviewed Roberto Gandolfini. Do you know him?
Gato!
What else did this Gandolfini tell you?
Not much.
Can you come with me, please?
Come on.
Coming in?
- What floor? - The basement.
They already confessed. We're waiting for the judge's order.
Are they the ones who accidentally crashed into Collazo
or are you looking for other patsies for that?
It'll only be a second.
It's been breaking down all afternoon.
We still haven't found the problem.
We're modernizing the whole paper.
All these machines...
Excuse me for a second.
Everything okay?
I don't know.
Of course it's front page. Push it back half an hour.
They'll send it when it's ready. All set.
I'll talk to the lawyers
to cover our backs.
- Thanks, Lorenzo. - Pass it straight to Layout.
I'll see you there. Go on, hurry.
Gato, where are you? Pick up the damn phone!
CHAZARRETA MURDER CONNECTED TO FOUR STRANGE DEATHS
- Okay... What now? - We have to wait.
Watch out!
- Are you okay? - Yeah.
I need something strong somewhere with a lot of people around.
I know a good place.
Let's go. Come on.
Hi, it's Karina. Leave a message, thanks.
Hi, Karina. Too bad, I can't find you.
It's Mariano, the guy with the Greek nose.
We aren't exaggerating with all this, are we?
Well, if you're awake and feel like a drink...
- Yes. - Rinaldi, you know who this is?
- Yes. - We need the favor you owe us.
I'm listening.
You want to hear the true story behind your nickname, Betibú?
You were releasing your book, "A Slow Death."
And I was madly in love with you.
As a writer, you know what I mean.
You had given an interview in a magazine,
I don't remember which.
And the magazine with your photo was on my desk
for a long time.
I was writing an article and I was stuck on a word.
And I looked right at your photo and said, "Tell me, Betibú."
It just suddenly came out, without thinking about it.
"What's the word when a king has to quit?"
And the word came to me, like you'd whispered it to me.
"Abdicate." Seriously.
So I cut out your photo and stuck it on the base of my computer.
And whenever I had a doubt, or when I have one, I always turn to you.
- What a nice story. - Isn't it?
But I saw Clemente's cartoon on your desk.
One day Rinaldi caught me talking to the photo.
So we started talking about you and your novel
and... well, eventually I found out
you two were involved... so I put you away
and replaced you with Clemente. He has less vocabulary, but he helps.
Well? Aren't you going to ask me to dance?
- What have we got? - Two kids.
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