The Sunday Woman

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In Turin, a somewhat shady architect, who engages in strange dealings, is found dead with his head crushed by a large marble phallus. Thus begins one of the most famous police investigations in Italian literature, led gently yet firmly by Commissioner Santamaria. He is a kind and composed officer, intelligent and determined, driven by a sweet ethical indignation towards the social class he must scrutinize as an investigator. The commissioner navigates the upper echelons of Turin, moving among refinements and snobberies, sublime sarcasms and false laughter, displayed etiquette and exaggerated nonchalance. This mirrors a desperate attempt to conceal the emptiness of lives largely wasted, complicating the task of the middle-class Santamaria.