La Sindrome di Stendhal

He can be caught.
After all, he's just a man.

You know that he's just a man.
He'll never let himself be caught.
How can you be so sure?
Because... because he knows!
Because he knows what?
Every fucking thing!
But how could he, Anna?
How could he know everything?

Bring it over here!
Come on, hurry up, guys, let's go!
Judging by its state
from over here...

I'd say he's been in the water for
at least three weeks... maybe more.

- Roberto! - Yes, sir. - How was
he supposed to be dressed?

- Blue trousers, white T-shirt
and black socks. - Okay.

Mario, Mario!
I want to see you up there!

Officer! Officer! Officer!
What did I tell you?
It's a maze of canals.

The body was probably knocked
through one conduit after another.

You say you should have realized
he wouldn't let you have him.

- Have who?
- Marie.

Alfredo doesn't want me
to have anybody else.

- Which means you are his and no
one else's. - Why do you say that?

- You said he knows everything.
Are you sure? - Yes.

- At least he knows everything
about me. - Just a moment.

Think of what you just said.
"He knows everything about me."
You really believe that?

Believe it? I know it.
And you believe that he knows you
better than you know yourself.