The ProstituteI could see you’re Friulian, I’d guessed it. But what are you doing here at Parco Paolino? […] Well, so now you had a great encounter: you met me! I had a Friulian girlfriend once. She was nice. So nice. […] Plus she knew how to get by: if you’re from the North, you get more respect; everybody shows you all this respect, all this devotion… But I know why everybody treats all you Northern Italians with respect […] It’s because you talk so well, you speak so nicely. I make myself ill over hearing you talk! […] She wrote me last Christmas. She said she was done turning tricks and was waiting to get the license for a coffee bar. But she forgot to write her address, so I never answered. I wonder what she was thinking? Maybe she thought I was dead.


“And already the Commaraccia secca/on the Strada Giulia raises her sickle…”

Giuseppe Gioachino Belli

The lifeless body of a prostitute is found in a field along the banks of the Tiber. The police start to investigate and identify five suspects, all hustlers from Rome’s working-class suburbs. Through subtle interlocking, their interrogations provide the connecting thread to the story, along with the flashbacks of the anonymous victim’s last afternoon rising. Through their half-truths and blatant lies, the small-time thief known as ‘il Canticchia’, the former pimp Bustelli (who lives off of his loan-sharking wife and mother in law), the young and naive Calabrian soldier Costantino Teodoro, the Friuli-born Natalino and the sixteen year-old Francolicchio (still in shock because of his friend Pipito’s tragic death) each tell us about their madcap day of sun and rain, before they all found themselves, around midnight, in the vicinity of Parco Paolino. Finally a witness mentioned by one of them leads the police to a public dance-hall, where they catch the one responsible, that is, the one who lied more than the others.