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Hi Marilyn! Hello! who are you? where am I? I see you dazed. I'm Bianca. Did I wake you up? Did I wake you up? Yes, you woke me up. do not you see I was sleeping? Can you answer me? I'd like to ask you some questions, in Italian, if you don't mind. On what? Are you a journalist? Another who wants to know ... Do you understand me? Yes, I understand you. I understand you. What do you want to know? It was said that you committed suicide. When you're young and healthy, on Monday you can think of committing suicide, and on Wednesday you're laughing again. Yes: your famous phrase: - "When you are young and healthy, on Mondays you can think about killing yourself, and on Wednesday you are laughing again." one in the morning of Sunday 5th August 1962. Maybe because: - "An acting career is a wonderful thing, but it can not warm you up on a cold night." - - "A career is a wonderful thing, but it can't warm you on a cold night." - It wasn't a cold night that August night. What scares me most is not death, but the feeling of not having lived life to the full. You didn't answer me: did you really commit suicide, or was it an accident? A murder? Yes: I've always committed suicide. I knew I was going to end up being like my mother and grandmother. An alcoholic. A mad woman. I meant, really. Did you commit suicide? The? Absolutely no. I wouldn't have been able to do it that well. To organize myself to the point of having no escape. I would always call someone to get there on time. I've always called someone. Maybe you didn't make it: you went too far with sleeping pills: they found you, they say, with the receiver in your left hand. Face down. What a shame! To be found like this, undressed, with hair without dye, legs not shaved. Never. I never wanted to. So? It was an accident? But who are you? What are you talking about? What you mean? Who are you? My name is Bianca. You have already said that. I feel your presence but I don't see you. No: I didn't commit suicide. I didn't really want it. However ... However? I have often let myself go almost to the bottom. What language do you speak? Italian. I do not know Italian. Not exactly, Joe [1] is the son of Italian immigrants. In his hard Italian head he had the image of a traditional Italian wife and he wanted me to become one. It was not possible. Maybe then he spoke it, that's why you understand me. I do not know. However I understand you, or at least I follow you. I feel sleepy. Strange: I do nothing but sleep and before I couldn't do it without getting stoned with drugs. It will be bad to say it but he administers them to me with an Eunice enema. [2] The housekeeper? Yes. This would explain ... Would you explain what? What Coroner Tomas Noguchi said [3] There was no trace of the Nembutal tablets in your stomach, yet the levels of the substance detected in the blood and liver were three times the lethal dose. [4] Here is sleep explained! But Eunice gave me an enema of chloral hydrate, not Nembutal. She will have the wrong dose. And to say that I had fired her! Is it possible that you don't remember? No. I remember talking to Peter [5], they had a dinner date, but I was groggy and not even able to go out. I gave up on it. Yet there are those who say that you went out, in possession of a Nembutal recipe and bought a package that contained 25 capsules. Nembutal is a powerful barbiturate that in my day is desperately sought by people who wish to euthanize themselves. In Italy it is prohibited. Euthanasia? What you mean? I talk about assisted suicide. With pentobarbital. 25 tablets are enough. The ones you bought, with the prescription of your doctor. dr. Engelberg, he supplied you with Nembutal and your psychiatrist didn't even know it.