*CREDITS*
_
Vienna is a city obsessed by titles.
In London, I was Max. Just Max.
In Vienna, I am Dr Maximilian Liebermann,
physician, neurologist... and Englishman...
..of course. They don't let you forget that.
The capital of a thousand-year-old empire,
it's also a pedant's heaven.
A family's reputation can be ruined by
the length of a woman's hem.
There are rules here for everything.
_
Romantic memories are pathogenic. They create disease.
Banishment of painful, emotionally charged memories
from one's consciousness requires
an active repressing mechanism.
This is Vienna's gilded age,
and yet there is something unsettling deep below the surface...
..a shadow realm the city is struggling to hide.
Welcome to Vienna.
Welcome to my world.
Holy Christ!
- Do we have a name? - Neighbours didn't know her.
What's she saying? You speak Slovak.
Just nonsense.
Get her out of here.
Go out, out. Please.
"God forgive me. I have tasted forbidden fruit
"and he will take...
"..take me to hell."
A suicide.
Then where's the weapon?
Someone must have come in here and taken it.
Door was locked from the inside.
Bolted. It's the third floor. Impossible to climb.
It doesn't make sense. If she'd killed herself,
the weapon would still be here.
The assailant tried to dress the thing up as suicide, panicked
and forgot to leave the weapon.
Her door was locked. The key was on the inside.
- Windows? Flue? - Welded shut.
No-one could have made it in or out of there.
So you are saying we have an invisible weapon
and a killer who can pass through walls, Inspector?
You were on duty when the call came in?
I'm not sure this is the right case for you, Rheinhardt.
It's a cab rank!
We take the first case that comes.
Very well.
There is someone I need you to meet first,
a junior doctor from the hospital.
He's asked to observe a criminal case.
I'd prefer not to have outsiders...
You're to afford him every courtesy.
His father is a personal friend.
Dr Liebermann?
Inspector Rheinhardt.
What do I call you? Doctor?
Max. My name is Max.
And you?
Inspector.
Woman murdered in Leopoldstadt.
Shot through the heart at close range.
Killer laid her out like she was a model in a painting.
You're just here as an observer, right?
The psychopathy of the criminal mind.
Catchy.
A useless life is an early death.
Morning, Dr Behr.
There is muzzle bruising.
Also, some powder burns.
Look. Weapon must have been old,
antique.
- How long has she been dead? - More than a day. Less than two.
- So, in terms of opportunity? - You should widen your search
to everyone in the empire.
May I?
A little malnourished, perhaps.
- No evidence of cholera. - Anything else?
Sorry. Just observing.
Did someone put you up to this?
- What? - There is no bullet!
See? This is where it entered. But...
..there is no exit wound,
no sign of tampering, no surgery.
So what the hell happened here?
We are victims of a hoax.
Either that,
or someone has been practising witchcraft.
A vanishing gun...
..and a...
..ghost bullet.
- She was some sort of mystic. - Would you mind staying silent?
Please don't touch that!
No-one knows her. I knocked on every door. Got nothing.
I don't believe it. It's impossible.
No-one seen going in or out. No visitors.
- What about the concierge? - Rent was paid.
Slipped under the door every month.
Says she doesn't know her name.
I want this whole area trawled for witnesses.
You don't sleep until you get me a name.
- You understand? - Erm...?
Haussman, sir.
Haussman. Someone must know something about her.
The weapon. We're looking for an antique gun.
Maybe a collector, somebody with military connections.
Do you have to do that?
What?
You're staring.
Well, I was told I could observe you.
Where would you prefer me to look?
I'd prefer it if you weren't here.
It was difficult to tell that from your manner...!
Remind me, why exactly are you here, Doctor?
I thought the Commissioner explained.
He said I was to tolerate your presence.
I'm making a study of criminal behaviour.
Really? Then why aren't you in a laboratory somewhere,
dissecting brains?
Because the way to study the mind is to observe the living,
for example, a policeman,
maybe 20 years of service,
a position of seniority,
and yet he is impatient, he's heavy-footed,
he's slamming drawers, eating coffee beans,
perspiring, even though it's cold in here,
forgetting the names of his colleagues.
So I would have to say he's anxious to get a result.
Not anxious.
Desperate.
Maybe it's been a while since he solved a case.
- I know, and I'm sorry. - It's six o'clock!
It's a quarter past six.
- Well, I ran all the way. - You're not even changed yet.
You're going to be horribly late.
So, did you meet with the Police Commissioner?
Yes. He's assigned me to a case.
A murder in Leopoldstadt. A young woman shot through the heart.
Hardly a fit discussion for the table!
Let's talk about something more pleasant.
Are you seeing Clara tonight?
Yes.
I'm taking her to see the Beethoven Frieze.
- Last chance before it's sold. - Sold?
Lovely girl. Such a sweet nature.
- How are things between you two? - Oh, Mother, you know there's no point.
Stop pushing him!
Max will do what Max wants to do.
There.
Gosh, yes.
The Beethoven Frieze.
Gustav Klimt. I wanted you to see it before it's gone.
It's...
Extraordinary, don't you think?
You don't like it.
I find it frightening, to be honest, Max.
- Almost like a nightmare. - Yes.
Images of madness.
Forbidden wishes.
I'm sorry.
You were hoping I would love it.
Painters these days, they are no longer content
just to paint you as you are,
smiling, in your best dress, beside a bowl of apples.
I think apples have had their day, Clara.
"To every age its art."
Would you pay more attention to me if I were to pose for you like her?
Well, I think everyone would pay you attention
if you were naked on a hundred-foot canvas.
Well then, perhaps I should volunteer.
Kiss me, Max.
Kiss me now.
Right here?
Yes.
We're playing a game.
Oh? What game is it this time, Clara?
It is called "Prove to me that I'm more attractive
"than a painting".
Hm. The Mayor.
Election time again.
Why don't I introduce you?
I'm no good at conversation.
Oh, Max! What will I do with you?
- Sir. - Thank you.
Don't touch me!
Don't...
..touch me!
Don't touch me!
- Max? - Get a carriage!
Quickly, Clara!
- I need to admit a patient. - Yes, sir.
Don't...
Please help me!
Please...
- Please stop. - Take her over there.
Please!
Search every apartment.
Knock on every door!
We need the victim's name!
Open up!
This is the police!
Knock on every door!
Do you know the name of the woman who lived upstairs?
Do you know the woman who lived upstairs?
Do you know the name of the woman who lived upstairs?
You're late. I've been waiting.
Here.
Ah. Good morning.
Oskar.
This time, you really disappointed us.
- What? - Can't even keep a lid on your own investigation.
You've made the front page.
Suspects?
No, sir.
Witnesses?
Not as yet.
And now the investigation is leaking like a rusty ship.
"Killed by a spectre summoned at a seance."
How the hell did they get hold of this?
The Mayor telephoned.
We need to kill this speculation.
The only way is to make an arrest.
Perhaps it's too soon.
No shame in stepping aside. Von Bulow's offered to take over.
Just giving the case to someone who can handle it.
No, sir.
I want to finish this.
Inspector?
I was told I could observe a criminal case.
And presumably, that means
you and I will have to be in the same room occasionally.
Yesterday evening, you said I seemed
anxious, impatient, desperate. You went through the whole dictionary.
How did you know what I was feeling?
Do you find me unsettling, Inspector?
One or two other words spring to mind, actually.
There's a professor who lectures in Vienna.
He claims that anything you wish to know about a person
you can tell through observation...
their clothes or their mannerisms,
the way they hold their pen and their coffee cup.
He teaches that human behaviour is eloquent.
Our little foibles, our jokes,
even the mistakes we make,
every tiny grace note and inflection
gives a clue as to what is going on inside the brain.
I've become fascinated by his work...
..though, sad to say, his teachings aren't popular everywhere.
I studied you and I made a diagnosis.
Well, then, Doctor, sorry to interrupt your lecture,
but maybe you want to study this instead.
You're asking me to comment?
I thought I was just an observer.
I'm asking for your help. Either you will or you won't.
I've nothing to go on.
No-one knows the victim.
She's a blank page.
That trick that you do...
It's not a trick.
..the way that you look at people...
..will you look at her, tell me what you see, Dr Liebermann?
Well? What do you see?
Anything?
She's dead, Inspector. It makes primary observation difficult.
It's a stage set.
What?
Do you have any matches?
This room has been decorated like a pantomime stage.
Ooh!
No spirits.
Stage magic.
This is all an elaborate con.
Whoever killed her knew she was a sham...
..dressed up her death like one of her own tricks.
There's more than one illusionist at work here.
What is it?
It's empty. Where are all the dresses?
- You think that significant? - Well, if this was a stage set,
there ought to be costumes. We need to see her again.
Why does a woman empty her wardrobe,
dispatch all her dresses at once?
Think! Come on.
Why am I being interrogated?
I'm supposed to be the damned policeman!
Well, you asked me my opinion!
Yes, but I didn't know it was going to be served up this way!
Has anyone ever told you how insufferable you are?
As it happens, about a dozen times a day.
"Take me to hell."
She made an error. She began by writing another word.
It says "us" beneath the word "me".
_
What?
He forced her to write that under stress,
and she made a damning admission.
Someone else was going to die with her.
Welcome to the case, Inspector.
What is it?
We need a postmortem on her womb.
There's your motive, Inspector.
No demons.
Just a man.
An adulterer.
Someone was about to be exposed.
Find the father of this child.
He's your killer.
Herr Liebermann!
- Bruckmuller. - Ah, yes, of course.
I know you by reputation.
That's just a polite way of saying you've been listening to gossip.
I am flattered that you've invited me here.
Oh, let's not be coy, Herr Liebermann.
Political campaigns cost money.
Herr Holderlein from the Central Bank.
I don't think we've met, Herr...?
- Liebermann. - Oh, how do you do?
How do you do?
And Herr Adler, the munitions manufacturer.
- How do you do? - Pleasure to meet you.
I don't invite them for their conversation.
Adler is intolerably dull.
But everyone here has one redeeming feature.
I assume you are talking about their bank accounts.
Look around you. The Viennese elite.
We can offer status.
I doubt that the Jewish Quarter
provides much in the way of social introductions.
You're right.
I don't know any of these men.
They have never sought my company.
Well, as the Mayor is fond of saying,
we decide who's a Jew and who is not, Herr Liebermann.
Come, take a seat.
Dr Liebermann?
You haven't attended my tutorials for over a week.
You think there is nothing you can learn from me?
No, of course.
I'm about to give a demonstration.
Perhaps you would do me the courtesy?
Signora Locatelli here displays symptoms of acute hysteria.
Hysteria is a medical condition,
one that can be swiftly and permanently corrected.
Have you seen my dog?
Excuse me?
I'm Dr Liebermann.
We met. The exhibition.
Seamstresses.
Dressmakers.
Tailors.
Anyone who might take in alterations.
Find those dresses and we'll find the dead woman's name.
Now! Move!
Haussman?
_
- Rosa Sucher? - Yes.
Vienna Police. May I come in?
- You run a business as a seamstress? - That's correct.
What are you writing?
It's nothing. It's, er...
Sorry. Not my business.
This case in Leopoldstadt.
The psychopathy of a killer.
You know, I always imagined that one day
there'd be a sign above the emporium, Liebermann & Son.
I know.
And I'm sorry...
No, no.
A doctor in the family is a fine thing.
But?
This... new science of yours, your chosen field of study...
- Here it comes. -...some people are saying it's dubious.
Who do you mean? What people?
Just chatter over luncheon.
Well, you can tell these people
that Sigmund Freud has just been made a professor.
You know what they're calling it?
The "disreputable" medicine.
Well then, they're as ignorant as they are stupid.
Talking cures and hysterics,
exploring the darkness of men's souls.
Are you really sure what you're getting into, Max?
Is it really the career for a gentleman?
- Of course. - You're worried about our reputation.
- Max... - If I'd been a surgeon or general practitioner,
you could have faced your friends.
I don't want you to make a mistake that's going to haunt you
for the rest of your days.
You're passionate.
Always admired that.
Your mother's son.
You throw yourself into each new thing with enthusiasm.
But this... this is different.
You don't understand. We are witnessing the birth
- of a whole new science. - It could take you to a very dark place.
I know you. I've seen you before.
You smiled at me as I came in.
I'm an artist.
- A painter? - Illusionist!
You make things disappear?
Just have to drink it to get it out again.
I offered her six Kronen for the lot. Five dresses.
The lady from Leopoldstadt, she brought them round to you?
Came to my apartment a week ago.
We don't even know her name.
Fraulein Lowenstein.
Charlotte.
Charlotte Lowenstein?
Just a moment.
Miss Sucher, how did she find you?
I'm sorry?
Well, she wanted a seamstress, so...
Well, do you advertise?
Oh, no. I knew her, sir, already.
I see.
You were a client.
You went to her salon to take part in a ritual, a seance.
My mother, she... she died last year.
The Fraulein, she had an extraordinary gift.
We met together in her rooms.
- "We"? - Seven of us.
- You were never seen? - It was always late at night.
Join hands, my beloveds...
..and let the host of spirits enter.
I conjure you by the name of the Dark King, who rules over you.
Rosa... who were the others?
I don't know names, apart from one, the man who introduced me.
Otto Braun.
Seven, including Charlotte Lowenstein,
the only people we can place in that salon. And...
..we have our first gentleman caller.
She said she met him in the cemetery.
He was the bait, Inspector.
Good day. Do you know Otto Braun?
No.
Hello, sir.
Braun.
The magician?
- Hmm. - Paid his bills. Treated me all right.
- What do you want with him? - We need to know where to find him.
- Otto Braun? - Back stairs.
Herr Braun?
Please forgive the intrusion.
I'm with the Vienna Police.
Is this an inconvenient moment?
Excuse us, madam.
- It's just a normal day, then? - You said you wanted to observe.
Otto Braun?
Pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Welcome to the case, Doctor.
Your hat!
Thank you.
Two days. Been in all the papers.
You didn't come forward, Otto.
We've got a witness that can put you at the cemetery.
Rosa Sucher?
Recall her, do you?
Her mother died last year.
She's laying flowers at the grave and you stroll up to her,
start telling her fairy tales...
..about a woman with a gift, a woman
that communes with the spirit world.
Charlotte had an accomplice,
someone pulling the strings.
We know what you do for a living, Otto. Your little friend told us.
You're a magician, aren't you?
You went to the cemetery and preyed on grieving people!
How many of them did you con? How much did you charge them?
- Look into my eyes! - It's not a crime. I did nothing wrong!
No? Then why did you run from us? Why are you so scared, Otto?
Look into my eyes!
You disgust me!
I'll tell the Commissioner we have someone in custody.
What are you staring at?
How long have you worked at the theatre?
What's that got to do with you?
I think you're playing a part.
Charlotte's dead.
I know you feel something.
I... I don't know anything.
About anything.
That's what a little boy would say.
You've been running, hiding.
Who was she, Otto?
I need to make her acquaintance.
She...
She was abandoned
at a very young age.
Both her parents died.
I am seeing...
..a woman.
She's saying...
.."My love,
"stop blaming yourself.
"We have no need for goodbyes.
"I will always be by your side.
"I love you."
I needed an actress for the seances.
I knew her from the theatre. Well...
You found a way of making money together?
Her beauty and your theatrical flair.
We were staying at the Grand in Baden.
A lot of wealthy guests there.
One of the guests was a medium,
a psychic, attracting attention.
And that's what gave you the idea.
Someone put a gun to her chest, Otto...
..close enough to feel her last breath.
He was her lover.
She had men falling at her feet.
This man was different.
This man was the father of her unborn child...
..and he had a flair for illusion.
You think it was me?
You think I murdered Charlotte?!
Otto!
I don't have to put my fist in someone's mouth to get the truth!
People lie when they're in a state of panic.
It's a reflex like... like the sort that children tell.
You hurt him like that, you'll scare him into saying anything!
I'd prefer it if you just said, "Thank you for intervening"!
He isn't the killer!
Look at him. He's scared. He knows something that he's not telling!
You asked me my opinion.
- Convince me. - Whoever killed Charlotte Lowenstein,
he did it to save his reputation.
Braun has no reputation to save.
Another man was in that room, a man of wealth and status.
You asked me to help you paint an image of the victim.
I can do better, Inspector.
I can paint you an image of the killer.
Come in.
I'm not a fool.
Don't treat me like one, Liebermann.
I'm sorry, sir?
The police.
The thing in Leopoldstadt.
Everyone is talking.
You've decided to turn your back on medicine
and enrol instead in the police force?
I've been given the chance to observe a murder case.
From the point of view of medical research...
I don't like you, Liebermann! I don't like your arrogance.
You think our methods are old, out of date.
You don't even have the courtesy to conceal it.
You visit Freud's lectures in Vienna,
but you haven't the courtesy to attend my own.
Professor Freud is making great advances...
Damn it!
We don't change our working practices every time
some Jewish doctor publishes a book!
Never forget, I'm senior physician here.
I decide whether you remain at this hospital.
As of this moment, your tenure is hanging by a thread.
Good morning, sir.
Miss Lydgate?
You work at the city museum.
I'm a scientist.
- A restorer. - Interesting.
And what do you restore?
Archaeological finds, rare specimens.
Why exactly am I here, Doctor?
You don't remember?
They say... I attacked someone.
I don't recall.
The mind can play tricks on us.
Memories can be suppressed, especially painful ones.
Do you think I'm insane? Is that why you've locked me up here?
You were brought here so that you could be helped.
Padlocks on the gates, bars on the windows.
- What manner of help is that, exactly? - Miss Lydgate...
I came to Vienna to study science.
I was told this city was more enlightened.
I see little evidence of it in the way I've been treated here.
- Miss Lydgate... - I ask you plainly...
..do you think I'm insane?
No.
Stefan, escort Miss Lydgate back to the ward.
I shall prepare the release papers.
Come. Come with me.
Calm down!
Braun admits to being her accomplice.
He probably has the skills to create the illusion.
"Probably" is no good to me.
I'm convinced he's keeping something back.
I'm not interested in your speculations.
Do you have enough to charge him?
No, sir.
Damn it! Rheinhardt, I need to be able to rely on you!
- Sir... - I can't let this go on!
Braun is not the killer, Commissioner.
He does not fit our...
- ...profile. - "Profile"?
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
We are looking for someone who killed her
to save his reputation. Braun has no reputation,
no family name, no wedding ring.
I'm only interested in proof.
Do you have any?
All right. Release him.
And then follow him, hmm?
Yes. Yes, it's me. It's Strasser.
Look, I'm sorry, we didn't make an arrest tonight.
Max, the coach is here.
Your father is taking us out, remember?
We're supposed to spend the evening together.
What's the matter? Something's upset you.
He's been on at you again. About the hospital.
- No. - Yes. He has.
I can always tell when you're lying. Max, truly, we wouldn't care
if you swept roads for a living. We just want you to be happy.
Now come on, the coach is waiting.
- Hello. Good to see you again. - Hello.
- How are you? Good evening. - Good to see you again.
Now I understand your sudden interest in Mahler.
These gentlemen are my friends.
Besides, it's a thing to be seen here.
Rachel!
- Is it her? - Who?
That woman. Your patient. Are you still thinking about her?
Don't be silly.
Perhaps you'd pay more attention to me if I started to scream and cry.
- That's not funny, Clara. - If I begged you to cure me, Doctor,
would you find that alluring? Do you want to play that game?
No.
My friends warned me not to fall in love with such a serious man.
I should have listened to them.
Ladies and gentlemen,
a change to our published programme for this evening.
Owing to the illness of our accompanist,
Hofoperndirektor Gustav Mahler will play for us.
Why aren't they cheering him?
Because he doesn't know his place.
These men you're courting as friends, do they know your religion,
or did you conveniently forget to mention it?
- That isn't even funny, Max. - It wasn't supposed to be.
Can't you see their contempt for us? They barely even bother to hide it.
I did not raise my son to talk to me this way.
Don't get into an argument, please, not tonight.
You have no right to lecture me about the people I choose to be
- friends with. - Enough, both of you.
Clara, sorry. What must you think of us?
Now, can we please all try to enjoy our evening?
What are you doing in here?
I want to ask you something.
You look very serious.
What's the matter?
Clara.
You do... love her?
What?
Well, you wouldn't do anything stupid just to please Papa.
Our two families are friends, after all.
- Well, we're not engaged, Leah. - No, but Clara is expecting you to ask.
Don't forget, she is my friend, too, Max.
"She's bewitching."
- Put that back. - "But she is dark
"and oddly dangerous, a deep reservoir of anger."
- Those are my... - "In truth, I'm desperate to help her."
- Amelia? - She's a patient.
Ah! Well!
- Now I understand the appeal of neurology. - Leah...
- This reads like romantic poetry. - You can't just come in here and take...
It was open on the desk and you were out.
Give it... to me.
We tried so hard when we first came here,
struggled to fit into Viennese society.
That's what Clara gave you, isn't it?
An introduction to a new world.
That's not fair. You can't say that.
Well, she knows all the right people.
You can always count on Clara for an invitation.
She's helped you find your way.
But if you do not love her, then you have to make that clear.
I... have feelings for her. Of course I do.
Do you love her? Don't lie to me, Maxim.
You're deceiving her and you're deceiving yourself.
Is there a name for that in your fancy science books?
There's a policeman downstairs.
No closed doors. No invisible bullet. No tricks. No illusion.
The killer's panicking.
He knows we're coming.
We should never have let him go.
We had no way of knowing.
It wasn't us he was afraid of. He knew the lover's identity.
Then why didn't he tell us?
Why not admit the truth when we had him in custody?
When he was scared, he could have asked for our protection.
Here! What are these?
I've seen them before.
Numbers of the dead.
Whoa!
Steady, steady, steady.
See? It's Roman for the rows,
Arabic for each headstone.
He made a note of all those that were freshly turned...
..all the people who were newly deceased.
A salesman looking for clients.
Inspector?
Now we know their names.
Were you very late at the club?
Who was there?
The usual crowd.
Of course.
Bruckmuller, Adler.
The Mayor, also.
- Sir? - What?
Madam. Oskar Reinhardt, Police Department, Leopoldstadt.
My good man, is Madam von Rath at home?
Countess von Rath.
Who wants to know?
The Vienna Police, Countess.
Karl Uberhorst?
Yes?
My wife.
My Anna.
My life's been empty without her.
I never said goodbye.
You're fools. You know nothing about the powers that she governed.
My... My sister.
My twin, she... she died.
That is a special bond, Inspector.
I've watched her conjure up demons, summon the voices of the dead.
Fraulein Lowenstein had a gift like no other.
You visited Fraulein Lowenstein at her salon?
Not just I, Inspector.
Tell me what you see, Doctor.
I see desperation.
Lives cut short.
Broken relationships.
Unfinished conversations.
I see the pain of loss.
And you?
- What do you think? - That there's no difference
between your Freudian cure and these poor souls
spilling their grief to a charlatan like her.
Hands off! Stand back, Officer!
I need to talk to the Commissioner.
That's what it is.
- What's going on here? - Please calm down, sir.
- Holderlein enjoys special privileges. - Sir...
- He donates to the Mayor's campaign. - Herr Bruckmuller...
He only went to that damned seance for his wife's sake.
Why has he been detained?
He's not under arrest. He's just being questioned.
We believe the killer was wealthy, a man of standing.
Holderlein was in that room and he fits our profile.
- It makes him a suspect. - "Profile"?!
What the hell is he talking about?
It means we have a psychological portrait
- of the killer. - What about proof? What about evidence?
This is supposed to be a damned police station!
The Mayor won't allow his people
to be mired by scandal quite so easily.
We're talking about a murder inquiry here...
We're taking about a slum-dweller killed in the slums.
- You don't have any jurisdiction here. - Rheinhardt!
Do you know who I am, Inspector?
I own the foundries that produce this city's steel,
every tramline, every telegraph wire,
every scalpel and razor and table knife!
I built Vienna.
And Holderlein leaves with me. Gentlemen...
See what you have done?
- He was right, of course. All we have is supposition.
No. We have more, we have much more,
the detailed psychological picture...
someone intelligent, meticulous, patient.
Wonderful. We need to do this the old-fashioned way...
garner evidence, build a case brick by brick.
What?
The cemetery.
How is it you know it so well?
There's someone you visit there?
- I don't want to talk about it. - But you think about it often.
My daughter.
My little girl.
She died.
I'm sorry.
My wife...
..she left me.
Couldn't cope.
If there's anything I could do to help...
No, I don't want my mind dissected, Doctor.
I need to work.
Work is what I have.
I will be fine as soon as this case is solved.
I need you to put me in a room with him again.
You want me to organise... what?
A seance, madam.
We've contacted a medium, highly recommended, from Paris.
Madame De Rougemont.
The French police, the Surete, swear by her.
Interesting.
Heinrich?
We can't afford to go.
We can't afford to stay away.
Hello.
Nurse? I was looking for a patient, a Miss...
..Lydgate.
She is with the professor in there.
Professor?
- I'm busy. - Please, listen to me!
I'd be obliged, Liebermann, if you'd take your hands off me.
That patient is my responsibility. I brought her to you.
And you were right. She needs urgent treatment.
You can't use these instruments of torture!
Say that again and your career is over.
Join hands, my beloveds, and let the host of spirits enter.
I invoke and conjure thee, O spirit Morax,
fortified with the power of the supreme majesty.
I conjure thee!
I see him. He is here.
Welcome, spirit.
We who live in ignorance
beg you to help us.
We wish to contact
our sister Charlotte.
I can see.
Don't touch me!
Don't touch!
Your Madame De Rougemont was impressive.
Top of the bill at the Blue Danube. Isolde Sedlmair.
- Holderlein gave us nothing. - Hmm.
But his wife was eloquent.
She seems to think her husband has a secret.
Doctor?
If I told you I could make it stop...
..all the pain...
..would you do as I ask?
I... I know you have no reason to trust me.
- Yes. - Good.
I want you to tell me about him...
..the man who attacked you.
I want you to describe the moment...
..without experiencing the feelings.
Miss Lydgate...
..Amelia...
..you're completely safe here.
I promise I'll take care of you.
Describe the moment...
..without experiencing the feelings.
Just focus on the scent.
Her violent episode was triggered by a hidden memory.
Thank you.
But how can memories be hidden?
Well, that evening at the exhibition,
I remembered a cologne. The waiter was wearing it.
And what's the connection?
Same brand I smelled in the hospital,
worn by the orderly. I believe she has
a painful memory associated with the scent of a man.
You mean someone attacked her?
Yes.
Every time she smelled that scent, she went into a hypermanic state.
I tried to bring the memory to the surface
in order that she could be free of it.
So you're saying you've solved the case?
Your bill, sir.
Yes.
I... hope so.
Good. Then we won't need to keep discussing her.
No response.
No outburst.
The patient is cured.
The electro-shock therapy
was entirely successful.
You said the killer arranged her as though she were an artist's model.
She was in this room with her lover
and somehow she took their photograph.
She needed evidence of the affair if she was going to make him pay,
and so she used a camera. Here!
Charlotte was a blackmailer. He was punishing her,
doing to her exactly what she had done to him.
She made him the subject of a portrait,
and so he arranged her death in the exact same image.
Heinrich?
The police... at the door again.
You admit to being in her salon?
I admit that my wife has a weakness for the supernatural.
And, God help me, I indulged her.
Were you and the Fraulein ever alone?
You're asking if she was my lover?
You think pale skin and a petticoat would tempt me
into the bed of a whore?
Your wife was scared at the seance.
My wife is nervous whenever I'm within 50 feet of another woman.
Doesn't make me an adulterer, does it?
There's a photograph...
..the two of you together, you and Charlotte Lowenstein.
Really, Inspector?
May I see it?
Shall we put an end to all these games?
Are you going to charge me?
Gentlemen.
That was stupid.
I took a gamble.
I thought he might snap under pressure. We need that picture.
He would have destroyed it.
There must be something, a way to extract a confession.
What about that trick of yours you mentioned?
- It's not a trick. - What was it called?
Hypnosis. We'll never get him to agree.
Commissioner needs you, Inspector.
Why is Inspector von Bulow here?
Now, don't make this difficult.
You're taking me off the case.
I'm extremely close to an arrest.
Yes, as usual.
Damn it! I warned you not to drag in Holderlein!
The Mayor's office is baying for blood.
You are relieved.
What's that you've got there?
They've identified the weapon.
Please...
Von Bulow's not here at the moment. I'm still your commanding officer.
Yes?
People will start to think we like each other.
One piece of meat looks exactly like another. Don't you see?
Matthias... Matthias! I need the offcuts.
- What? - The human tissue!
An antique gun. Old enough to fill with powder and shot.
Don't you see? The propellant and the bullet had to be separate.
I remembered the history lesson from school.
The Austrian army, when they ran out of munition,
they packed the chambers of their cannon with debris.
A modern bullet.
The charge is contained within the casing.
He needed a special kind of shot.
So he needed an older weapon.
Are you mad?! What the hell are you doing?
You see? Strong enough to kill her yet leaves no traces.
What is it, Doctor?
Those forceps, Doctor, who would have access to those?
Bespoke.
Hallmarked.
Pure steel.
A bullet made of tissue and bone would have disintegrated on impact.
Someone packed the chamber of the pistol
with fragments of human fibre.
Forceps. Used to turn the key from the wrong side.
He jammed these into the lock and locked the door from the outside.
You reported my progress every day to the Mayor's office.
Yes. Well, obviously.
And you declared your allegiance to his campaign?
What exactly is the purpose of this?
- Are you interrogating me? - When I arrested Braun,
I told you he knew more than he was telling.
The dead woman confided in him.
With whom did you share our suspicions, Commissioner?
Step up! Step up! Try your luck!
Come on! Try your luck!
That must be him.
- Are you sure? - Quite sure.
Hypnosis would be easier. Good luck.
You got my letter.
I got some unsigned note insisting I come.
But I don't understand why you'd insist
we meet here, of all places.
Away from prying eyes, people gossiping.
It appears Fraulein Lowenstein was not a talented medium.
She was simply an actress.
Sadly, that doesn't surprise me, Doctor.
A very attractive one.
I never laid eyes on her.
Your friends the Holderleins, they knew her intimately.
What's all this about, please?
The key in the salon door.
We know how the trick was accomplished.
Used to turn the key from the wrong side.
And a bullet made from human fibre,
so that it would apparently vanish.
Fascinating, Doctor. But what's this in aid of, this exposition?
Your design and your monogram.
Charlotte Lowenstein.
You became her lover and the father of her unborn child.
Really, Doctor, now that is nonsense.
I know the killer.
I've studied him intimately,
someone with a great deal to lose
and someone with an unshakeable belief
in his right to kill in order to protect himself.
Please don't.
You're the architect of your own warped morality, Herr Bruckmuller.
The lives of the poor are expendable.
She wasn't even a good lover.
Your madness is deeply ingrained.
A-ha. You think I would make a fine patient?
Such a beautiful city, don't you think, Doctor?
What a prize! Lueger doesn't go far enough.
He will never do what helps Vienna to survive.
And what is that, exactly?
To get rid of the vermin.
The subversives.
The intellectuals.
The muck-raking journalists.
It'll need a strong arm to protect the honest folk
when it all starts to unravel.
You want to take over his mantle.
You think you are so clever.
Slippery, cunning...
..like the rest of your sly race.
But maybe not.
Don't jump.
My dear doctor, I don't intend to.
I told him. I told him it was a stupid idea!
You've been shot.
I realise.
And I'd prefer not to be shot again.
Wait for the wheel to take us down.
There's no escape for you.
Nor for you...
..Doctor Jew!
Police. Back off!
Police.
Max!
He's alive. You can arrest him.
You almost died up there, Max. What the hell went wrong?
Nothing. It went perfectly.
We got him to confess, Inspector.
Your hat.
I wore my new crepe de Chine. Herr Korngold was quite taken.
He proposed to me.
I meet with him every so often just to make you jealous.
Max, are you even listening?
What do you want from this? From us?
What do you mean? What's this about, Clara?
I need to hear the truth from you.
You've been drifting away from me, and...
..we can't go on as we are.
Clara... Clara...
- ...what's gotten into you? - I won't hate you.
I just need to know your feelings.
Would you...?
Will you marry me?
See? That wasn't so difficult.
There is a shadow self, a secret identity
that everyone is struggling to hide.
The deeper my journey into other people's madness,
the less I know myself.
*CREDITS*