Joe opens the other door, closing it carefully behind him and dials the wall-phone in the small foyer. Someone comes in from the front door and Joe watches him nervously until the man goes into the office.
An old man, Giovanni, sits down at the desk in his caretaker's room, picking up the phone. He greets Joe in Italian.
JOE. Giovanni, it's Joe Bradley. Now, listen carefully: I want you to hurry up to my place and see if there's somebody there...asleep.
GIOVANNI [amused] A-ha! Say, Mr. Joe: I look; [some Italian] you wait. [Some Italian]. [He walks to the door as Joe looks back and forth, impatiently. A few moments later Giovanni walks back to his desk, smiling. He sits down] Mr. Joe?
JOE [almost shouting] Yeah! [Repeating, quietly] Er, yeah, yeah, yeah, tell me, tell me!
GIOVANNI. Bellisimo.
JOE [he looks up, very relieved] Giovanni: I love you. Now, listen...
GIOVANNI. Yes, Mr. Joe. A gun? No!
JOE. Yes, a gun, a knife-anything! But nobody goes in and nobody goes out! Capito?
GIOVANNI. Ok. [He hangs up, getting up to obey Joe's instructions].
