Memento mori.
Remembrances of death.
The eyes transform to something more disturbed.
You deserve someone like me.
I asked you to marry me.
You said no, if you recall.
- I'm an alienist. - As am I.
Karen Stratton.
There is always a trail,
no matter the criminal's stealth.
247 Hudson Street.
Goo Goo owns that place.
We believe the kidnapper is a woman.
I think the best plan is that someone goes
into the Lying-In Hospital undercover.
There's no babies up there.
They tell the women up there they all had stillborns.
Libby.
Oh, my. It's quite the armory you have here.
A legacy from my father.
You saw who took your baby?
Yes. I saw her face.
The killer is a person in great pain.
Well, whoever they are... they will kill again.
I was looking for Marie.
Illness in the family. She's gone to take care.
I'm so sorry to hear that.
Now is not a good time, I'm afraid.
You have a child!
I think it's her teatime. Good-bye.
I'll tell her you stopped in.
My poor girl. There, there.
Good girl.
Come here.
There you go.
Stop!
Stop. Stop.
No.
No, stop, stop, stop.
My... my baby... my baby doesn't bite.
This is all your fault.
Stop looking at me, you stupid thing.
Stupid, stupid.
You stupid thing.
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I never meant to put you in harm's way for a case, Bitsy.
Where do you think she is now? Libby?
No one knows.
She gave me a real fright,
even before I saw the syringe in her hand.
When she smiled, she had black teeth.
Like in the Napp baby's mouth?
Do you remember anything else that could help us find her?
I'll have John work on a sketch.
The photograph from Central Park is unclear, but it might be sufficient.
Get some rest.
I'll be by to see you later.
Sara.
There's another photo.
Do we reopen the Napp case?
Absolutely not.
The appearance of another suspect only affirms what we already knew:
Martha Napp had an abettor.
Now the larger matter.
Regarding the privacy of our benefactors.
Sara Howard isn't interested in that.
All she cares about is the Spanish baby.
Yeah, but we have to assume that she knows,
that her little undercover assistant told her about the research wing.
We're here to protect names and reputations. Yes?
That's what we're here for, yes?
I need to be clear on something, Markoe.
I'm in service to this institution
because I think that helping poor, unfortunate women
and their innocent children to be a noble undertaking.
Well, I'm grateful you recognize the value of our charitable work here.
- You have a holy ethos here, yes? - We do.
I'm a communicant at the Church of the Holy Sacrament
and paterfamilias to five young women.
I ain't naive.
I understand that sometimes, the way an unwanted child is spared a miserable upbringing
involves telling their unfit mothers that they lost 'em.
But the telling had better be the extent of it.
Because if it ain't, I'm coming after you myself. Is that understood?
Understood.
And the names of these gentlemen...
your nurses don't know them?
Well, there's one who knows a little bit more.
Almost everything, but I trust her.
You trust her?
The matron has been with me for years.
Whatever the case, we should question her.
Well, she was due a little while ago,
but she hasn't reported in yet.
But first, we should talk to this ward girl, Miss Colleen Ledwidge.
Could be nothing,
but I did think it's curious
that today is the matron's first absence from work.
You were right to alert me, Lucius.
It's better we talk to her first.
It's not much further.
And if we find the matron in bed with a cold?
We apologize for any intrusion
and ask her to help us find Libby Hatch.
Hello?
Anyone there?
We have no cause to enter this woman's apartment.
This is monstrous.
It is appalling, I grant you,
but equally, it's enthralling.
If you look closely here,
what do you see?
Bruises on the neck.
She held her. Most likely with a knife against her throat.
This was punishment.
She wanted to watch her die.
See the life leave her body.
What is certain is that she sought out this woman
expressly to kill her.
Her motivation's entirely different from the killing of the baby.
She was trying on another life.
Lucius.
See if you can lift her head for me.
The eyelids.
Like the Napp baby.
They appear to have been drawn in blood.
Truly, she has lost her mind.
Or perhaps she's simply reordered it
to make sense of her actions.
I found something.
Acetanilide.
What about the charcoal powder?
None that I could find,
which means if she's ingesting the poison,
it's passing to the child.
Without anything to neutralize it.
We're running out of time.
_
I'll leave the light on for you.
She stood right in front of me, and I didn't even see her.
So we're no closer to finding this baby.
What do we actually know about Libby Hatch?
- Her shift in behavior... - Not simply a shift, but a mutation.
Brutally stabbing a contemporary is much different
than replacing a lost child with another.
Her attack on me,
it wasn't planned.
She waited until I presented as a threat.
You posed a threat to her, but the matron,
she sought her out in a savage and bloody fashion.
In both cases, I'm afraid, entirely understandable.
Well, Bitsy nearly died.
Sentimentality will do us no good in our search for her.
What about the escalation in violence?
Surely, that must account for something.
It means that the different people who she presents to the world
can no longer be contained. It means...
she's unraveling.
Excuse me.
Excuse me, can I...
A comprehensive gallery of known criminals
and those that fraternize with 'em.
Here.
Now, are any of these offenders
the nurse you know as Libby Hatch?
I don't understand how any of this is supposed to help.
So we can share her likeness with our officers
combing the streets.
Keep looking.
Have you spotted something?
Her?
No name. Only her aliases.
Looks like she likes to hang out with gangsters.
You should go home. Get some rest.
I've had better days, but I'd like to stay.
Help you catch her.
Walk her home, would you, Milly?
Course, Miss Sara.
If you'd like to go walking sometime...
If she's replacing the lost child, as we've surmised,
in her mind, that child is frozen in time.
Any growth beyond that of her own baby
would be greeted with skepticism.
A mother would notice the slightest change in weight or facial features.
One does not have to have given birth to understand such things.
I said nothing.
Perhaps the Linares baby has overstayed its welcome.
Which means that Libby's actions
will be more unpredictable than ever.
Should I run a likeness of her in "The Times"?
I think we have to.
Fine.
I shall see to it it's in the evening edition.
We found her in Byrnes' mug shot book.
She looks different.
Different names, aliases and the like, but it's her.
She has a criminal record?
No. She's in there as a known associate of various criminal types.
They seem to operate around Gansevoort Market and Hudson Street.
Duster territory.
Only two things that mewl.
Cats...
and babies.
Maybe you're a cat.
A sneaky cat...
looking for a saucer of milk.
I won't forget you...
little cat.
I remember all my babies.
Just one.
_
Give it a shot of burny.
That's a good girl.
- Go after it! - Come here!
- Come back here, you mutt!
- The hell was that? - Dog fights tonight.
I can tell they kicked off when this place empties out
and they go make their bets.
At least it'll be civilized for a couple hours.
Cyrus, do you know that woman?
Yeah, I know her.
I ain't seen her in a while, but I know her.
Where? Where have you seen her?
Right here.
This is Goo Goo Knox's woman.
So we need to find Goo Goo Knox to find Libby.
We should review everything we have on the Dusters.
Whoa, there.
I keep telling the girls to turn down the lights when they leave.
Someone's been here.
My father's gun.
It's gone.
Sara.
Libby.
_
I haven't really used much of the room
since my grandmother passed.
This precaution isn't necessary.
I appreciate your concern, but I do not require a chaperone.
Well, then, you're in luck.
My presence is required elsewhere this evening.
We need to go back to Hudson Street.
It's the only address we have for Goo Goo Knox.
Libby is a danger to you.
I insist you stay here until she is in custody
or otherwise deterred.
Sara, I said some harsh things
and I've been thinking about why I said them.
It may take some time and possibly some courage
before I find the answers.
Now, please, bolt the door after I leave.
Not now, please.
What is it, Paulie?
I want to show you another trick. I learned.
Take a seat.
I hope it won't hurt.
It won't hurt.
And on the count of three.
One, two, three.
And voilà!
Chapeau.
Houdini himself could not have done it better.
Thank you.
It is very intimate.
I gather you mean it's not Delmonico's,
and I entirely know your point, but you see,
I quite like to dine alone on occasion.
As do I.
To what shall we drink?
Let us drink to getting drunk.
I'm not entirely sure that is possible.
- I do not like to... - To lose control?
Behave indelicately.
Santé.
Your message sounded urgent.
Yes.
Truth be told, I've reached an impasse
and I thought you might shake some of the rocks free.
With a patient?
A criminal investigation, actually.
The perpetrator is a young woman who has kidnapped several infants
and at least killed one.
Infanticide?
How unusual.
She's progressed.
In truth...
There are facets of the female mind I find very difficult to grasp.
Am I to be your subject or your sounding board?
The latter, of course.
But I'm puzzled to no end by the actions of this woman.
Once I think I've gotten a handle of her motivations, she...
She surprises you?
Yes.
Exactly.
Yes.
That is why I thought it would be invigorating
to engage on this...
with a colleague.
A colleague.
Another toast.
What shall we drink to this time, Professor Stratton?
To collaboration.
- Sara. - Cyrus.
I need to find Libby Hatch.
You said she was involved with the Dusters with Goo Goo.
Please, go home.
Look, the only Duster here is Fat Jack over there.
Please, Sara. It's late.
All right, enough of that. Enough!
I can help.
Joanna, I don't wanna get you into trouble.
I'd like to help you, Sara.
I know who can lead us to Goo Goo.
All right. Who gets to play?
That's Goo Goo Knox.
Oh, my God. It's Libby.
What's the matter?
Baby makes you happy, don't it?
Something's different.
I don't think that she thinks that...
- that I'm her mom. - No, not this again.
You know I'd do anything for you.
I'd kill for you.
That's so sweet, Goo Goo.
Whatever you want. What do you want, huh?
- We can get you a new one. - No...
I don't want any baby.
I want my baby.
I thought I was your baby.
- Is that your way of asking me something? - You know it is.
You want a go, don't you?
Come to your mama.
I need you to get a message to John Moore and Dr. Kreizler.
I'm not leaving you here alone.
It's vital that we enlist all the help we can get as soon as possible.
Be careful, Sara.
You said you were ours tonight,
not the paper's.
It's your turn. Ask a question.
What sort of question?
Well, to get to an answer about who you are.
Well, the only answer that I require
is how "The New York Times" manages to poach
so many stories from right under our nose.
Well, it's a matter of being in the right place at the most opportune time, I suppose.
The responsibility of the journalist is to report the news,
but John seems to prefer taking part in its creation.
There's a person to see you, sir.
A "person," Maurice?
Not a gentleman or a lady?
You've intrigued us.
Bring this mysterious creature to the table.
It's a matter of some discretion.
More a matter of urgency than discretion.
Perhaps you can find a more discreet spot to talk shop.
Sorry about that, Joanna.
It's Sara.
She's found Libby Hatch.
She's following her.
On her own?
- Where... where was she last? - Duster territory.
Hudson Street.
I know where she's going.
There's a telephone here.
I need you to call Kreizler.
Tell him to meet me at this address.
The Isaacsons too. We may need the firepower.
Darling, I must leave.
I don't know why you insist on being involved, John.
Why not leave these matters to the police?
Surely you would want me to stop a violent criminal if I was able.
Imagine if they were our little ones and some madwoman was on the loose.
Off with you, then.
Go and catch this loathsome killer.
I had to earn the right to live above the rules, my boy.
It had better be a scoop you're after.
I have heard no end of complaints about this woman
and her investigative methods.
Moore follows her around like a sick puppy.
Leaving dinner so abruptly...
Well, frankly, Byrnes, it's humiliating.
Scandalous lady detective...
bent on undermining the sacred bonds of family
with untraditional friendships with working women
and unavailable men.
That's a story that maybe you'll wanna run in the "Journal," Mr. Hearst.
Stop here!
You lost?
I'm a doctor. Making a house call.
A doctor?
Must pay pretty good, these house calls.
You have me at a disadvantage, Mr...
They call me Fat Jack.
What kinda doctoring do you do?
I tend to the health of the mind.
How's that work?
Take your name. "Fat Jack."
An unlikely appellation based on your physique.
Yeah, I ain't fat.
It's a joke.
Everyone calls me that.
Prescribed names can be inspired by affection.
But more often than not, it serves a paradoxical intention.
What might seem like a tribute is, in fact, a true reflection of one's disdain.
That so?
Put the weapon down.
I thought we understood each other, Miss Howard.
But you...
you're incapable.
Drop the gun.
Sara!
Libby...
I don't wanna hurt you.
Sara!
You found her.
Easy.
This is a tremendous achievement.
I'm thoroughly impressed.
It was all of us who helped to find her.
Not myself alone.
You're being modest.
It was you who championed this case.
She's safe because of you.
Thank you, Laszlo.
You were brave today.
Yesterday.
Day's behind us now.
Well,
there's no harm in acknowledging one's successes.
Nor one's failures, I suppose.
What I said,
I did so because I wanted to hurt you
just as you had hurt me.
I know.
I'm deeply sorry.
I know that too.
Too often, things said in anger
come from a place of...
of affection.
And what should be spoken out loud
is left unuttered.
And life is too short for that, Sara.
You will feel quite comfortable here.
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