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I couldn't believe it myself.
What was it about?
You heard it, I can't talk about it. --Yes, but Karla is dead.
Of course she's dead. But someone wanted me to publish that email.
Well, tell me. I'll find out anyway.
That email revealed who killed her. Now stop following me!
Why were you so hesitant?
Personal life, detective?
I won't bother you anymore.
Good luck with your job. 'Cause it's the only thing you've got.
Sure, the thing is... I'm the newspaper editor and I work here 'til very late.
A blue car used to pick her up almost every night, but I never knew who the driver was.
What was the car like?
Old, messed up, no lights. I saw her getting in a few times.
But I haven't seen that car since then.
You live here?
No.
Thank you for the information, Vanessa.
If you find out anything else, you know where to find me.
And if it's not related to the case...
Can I still call you?
Okay, let's do it.
Ready? --Ready.
They're eight years old, ok? And I really want you to know who wrote it.
Miss Altair. You're my sunshine, you're my love.
My heart is beating and you're an angel to me.
I can fight for you, just like you would fight for me.
Happy birthday, Carlo.