Van Bergen is not our killer.
The killer is choosing victims who somehow remind him
of his own background and upbringing, his own class.
I almost believe you don't want the killer found.
It's time to take action.
The 400 are too important to this city
to suffer the public humiliation
of having one of their own arrested for murder.
Hand me your weapon.
You're gonna regret this.
Our killer might be following a pattern.
He's following the Christian calendar.
The next holy day is the Feast of the Ascension.
_
It's tired.
Come on, Rosie. The thing's dead.
I ain't no fairy.
Stevie, no one is implying
that you're anything less than a young man,
but we've an important undertaking that requires you
to alter your appearance if it's going to work.
It seems we might have convened at police headquarters,
judging by how well-represented it is.
Sir, we've asked you here
because we've a plan that requires your participation.
Commissioner, I'm sure Miss Howard has informed you
that Dr. Kreizler believes these murders
are being committed based upon certain dates
- of the Christian calendar. - Where is Dr. Kreizler?
Making arrangements for this evening.
- What's this evening? - The Feast of Ascension, sir.
Dr. Kreizler is convinced
the next victim will be taken tonight.
We're intent on taking up positions
around two of the disorderly houses
in hopes that our killer will be compelled to reveal himself.
You're talking about Van Bergen?
We're talking about whoever is responsible
for killing four boys since the new year began.
What exactly is your method to be?
We plan on using a decoy.
You mean her?
Him, Mr. Roosevelt.
Stevie here is Kreizler's ward,
and will be stationed in some well-traveled venue
under constant surveillance.
Am I right?
We're going to require full reign to execute our plan,
which means the police must not be involved.
Nor informed, as it's certain
they'll not stay quiet about it.
It will also be necessary to shut down
all the boy brothels in the city save one.
We've chosen The Slide... right here.
But I cannot be party to... to this.
The anti-reformers are already after my head without me
appearing to condone the dressing of a child
- for the express purpose of... - Sex.
It pains me to think what your father would say
if he heard you talk that way.
Sex is but a 3-letter word, Commissioner.
I trust you are in agreement with our plan?
Detective Sergeants, you'll have your weapons at all times.
Most assuredly, sir.
God help us all.
Gentlemen, have you imagined the logistics
of how we will be able to accomplish our task?
We calculate it's best to break into 2-man teams,
one on each rooftop.
Our decoy will be on the street below in plain view.
Hopefully, the killer makes contact,
and we'll be able to move in swiftly.
What are the teams?
Marcus will take charge of Mr. Moore, and, uh...
Well, Detective Sergeant?
Miss Howard, I-I'm afraid this is no task
for the weaker sex.
Nor for, um...
Cripples, you mean to say.
Very well then.
I shall make myself available throughout the evening
in any capacity that's needed.
Doesn't that still leave us one shy?
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That'll be a nickel.
What the hell?
You heard me, Paddy.
It won't be forever, Willy.
Why do I have to go away?
You can't stay here. This is only temporary.
We've booked passage for you
on a steamer leaving early next week.
Where am I going?
To Buenos Aires.
But I don't want to go to Buenos Aires!
You just... be on that boat when it sets sail.
It won't be forever, Willy.
Stevie, listen to me.
The man we're looking for is some 24 to 35 years of age,
and is likely to have a recognizable facial trait.
Yeah, Mr. Moore said silver teeth.
Possibly.
He'll also likely offer to take you somewhere.
To live in a castle. I know.
The point is, you're to remain alert.
And if you feel yourself in any danger, no matter who it is,
you're to signal that you need help.
- I'll be all right. - You remember the signal?
Polish my shoe on the back of my leg.
You mustn't hesitate.
I know how to take care of myself.
How does he look?
Lovely.
All right, Stevie. Out you go.
Quickly now.
Did you know egg creams have neither eggs nor cream in them?
You mean the man gypped me?
No, no, it's simply how they're made...
chocolate syrup, carbonated water,
and milk.
It's rather a mystery as to why they're called egg creams.
What happened to your hair?
That was a wig.
What are you doing in this neighborhood?
I've come to tell you that it's important
that you keep your window locked this evening.
You're worried about Fatima's saint, aren't you?
We've a suspicion that
it may be tonight that he strikes next.
You know, there are...
some of us who don't even believe he's even human.
Think he might be a... spirit.
He's most assuredly human.
Where do you call home, Joseph?
I told you, I work at The Slide now.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, uh,
how long have you been...
Working? I don't know.
Have you ever thought of doing something else?
What do you do?
Me?
Well, I'm, um, I'm an illustrator.
What's that?
I draw pictures.
And... people pay you?
Yes.
That's stupid.
Joseph, please, just...
keep your window closed and locked this evening.
Tell the other boys to do the same.
That's for his egg cream.
Have I missed anything?
Young Stevie's just getting started.
You're a sweet thing.
Looks like he's got a bite.
What's your name?
It's, uh...
Stella.
Stella. Stella.
Well, Stella, you certainly are a pretty young lady.
How'd you like to rub up against me,
like a kitten?
Go bugger yourself.
You heard me.
It's 10:23.
I thought perhaps you'd might want to return home,
as it's getting late.
The Commissioner expects me to be here.
May I ask you a question?
Why do you refer to yourself as a cripple?
I'm afflicted with a congenital defect.
My arm...
it never fully formed as it should have.
I hadn't noticed.
Mind that light.
Stevie? Is that you?
Beansie, get lost.
Why you wearin' a dress?
I'm workin' for the police, okay?
Go on, git!
Sure, Stevie. Whatever you say.
I asked you to mind that light.
Yes, of course.
Detective Sergeant.
Over there.
Keep an eye on Stevie.
Hey, you! Stop!
- Please don't hurt me! - What are you doing here?
You up here looking for boy-whores?
Is that what you're doing?!
I'm doing God's work, counseling the poor!
Please don't hurt me!
God's work.
Please... God's work.
God's work.
Perhaps I'm mistaken about the calendar.
Laszlo, there could be any number of reasons
why nothing happened tonight.
Maybe the Feast of Ascension
holds no particular meaning for him.
Or perhaps by closing the brothels, we scared him off.
Or I could simply be wrong...
Wrong about all of it.
Maybe the killer was here.
You just didn't know it.
17 men talked to Stevie tonight.
Might have been any one of 'em.
Stevie, of all the men you spoke with tonight,
was there not one who evidenced
something unusual about his appearance?
No one with a silver smile?
What if Van Bergen didn't appear because he's not the killer?
So what do we do now?
We wait for the next holy day.
When's that?
Nine days from now.
Pentecost.
_
Good to see you.
Good to see you, Mr. Morgan.
And for yous two?
- A lemonade, please. - Yes, ma'am.
I'll have the same.
I'm proud of you, John.
Well, you know what they say, Gran.
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.
Here you are.
Thank you. Hmm.
Tell me,
do you think bidding at auction
allows for the same titillation as games of chance?
Only for the losers.
What do you mean?
Well, for some, the pleasure is in the pain.
Wherever did you hear such a thing?
I read it in a book.
What happened to your finger, Mary?
May I see?
You've cut yourself.
Doesn't look too deep, but it's still bleeding.
Saliva contains a natural coagulant.
That means it clots the blood and allows for hemostasis.
It's why animals lick their wounds.
The bleeding should stop now.
May we have a photograph?
Certainly, young lady.
Just there. We'll get the city behind you.
That'll be a first.
Oh, you, too, Mr. Moore.
Oh, no, no. I don't, uh...
Nonsense.
Oh, all right.
Hold quiet now.
Is your grandmother here, John?
Oh, yes. She wouldn't miss this for love nor money.
Wonderful. I have it.
Why don't you and I take one together, Theodore?
Just the two of us.
Alice, why don't we take Mr. Moore and show him around?
Look to me now, Mr. Morgan, Mr. Roosevelt.
I've had a talk with our old friend Bishop Potter.
It seems your alienist came by,
inquiring about a member of the church.
What member might that be?
The one whose family helped get
our dear friend the mayor elected...
The very same man who appointed you
President of the Board of Police Commissioners.
And look to me.
Wonderful. I have it.
Take another one.
Dr. Kreizler is conducting an investigation at my request.
How he goes about it and to whom he speaks, I leave to him.
I've been assured that the young man in question,
the one you attempted to arrest,
will soon be leaving the country
and therefore no longer poses a threat
to the children of the city.
What about the children of other cities?
Gentlemen?
Do not betray your own kind, Roosevelt,
or you'll find yourself
with no job, no friends,
and no goddamn future.
Dr. Kreizler?
- Ah. Miss Howard. - Hello, Cyrus.
Excuse me for letting myself in, but,
Doctor, I've come to tell you about my plan.
Given that our killer seems to prefer
taking boys from inside their room,
I've arranged to have Stevie stationed inside the brothel.
I've convinced the Commissioner to help,
although he'll not want it acknowledged.
I'm afraid that wherever Stevie is placed
may do nothing to help us find our killer.
What about the Christian calendar?
Just because it didn't work the last time
doesn't mean that it won't work at all.
Now that the killer has given in to his desires,
he can't easily stop himself.
Isn't that your theory?
I sometimes wonder what good my theories do.
For the moment, they only occupy
the bookshelves of other alienists.
As I said, it's been arranged.
For tomorrow.
Yes.
Pentecost.
Oh, I'm curious as to where you'll put him, Gran.
I shall keep him in the parlor.
That way, I'll have someone to talk to
when you're out carousing.
- Hello, Mrs. Moore. - Hello, Sara.
That's a fine armadillo you have.
Thank you.
Did you see what my grandson spent his money on?
I spent it on the orphans, Gran.
I've hoisted anchors that weigh less.
A typewriter?
I was hoping you might teach me how to use it.
You?
I once had aspirations of being a writer.
I thought I might have another crack at it.
I don't think that's possible.
Oh, you think I lack talent?
I think you lack dexterity.
In your fingers, that is.
All men do.
It's why they'll never be any good at it.
Kreizler!
There you are.
I'm afraid you'll have to wait your turn.
I'm here to let you know your actions
have become conspicuous to some very important people.
I'm sorry if they're casting a shadow over your good name.
Don't worry about my good name. I know who my enemies are.
I've been informed Willem Van Bergen
is leaving the country.
Do you not believe it?
I told you,
I do not believe he's the man we're looking for.
You plan on another stakeout?
With Pentecost tomorrow,
I believe our killer will be compelled to act.
He won't be able to stop himself.
We must therefore take advantage
of every opportunity offered to us.
What causes a man to do such things?
Are we to consider him...
mentally defective,
a lunatic acting irrationally?
Or is it possible he's as sane as you and I,
and there indeed is...
method to his madness?
Those who are seen dancing are thought insane
by those who cannot hear the music.
It's just a matter of finding a way to hear the music.
Sara, would you like something to drink?
I'll have a whiskey.
No, thank you, Mrs. Moore.
Why did she look at you like that?
I quit drinking.
I have the shakes to prove it.
See?
Bravo, John.
Now I've something to show you.
I was thinking about my father,
which got me to thinking about Kreizler's theory about fathers,
which got me to thinking about Kreizler's own father.
That's a lot of thinking.
Look at this.
Ah, it's an old society column.
I didn't know what I was looking for at first,
but when I saw this, it struck me.
You were looking for something on Kreizler's father?
About Kreizler.
You seem to be obsessed with the man.
Perhaps you're in love with him.
Perhaps I am.
Go on, read it.
"Mr. and Mrs. Kreizler of 5th Avenue,
recent émigrés to the city from Germany"...
It's just a newspaper clipping from 30 years ago.
Skip down to the second to last paragraph.
"The evening was highlighted by young Master Kreizler,
"who dazzled all with his interpretation
of Mozart's 'Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D minor.'"
I fail to see anything unsettling
about a piano recital.
Unless it's Mozart's "Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D minor."
What of it?
It cannot be played with one hand.
He said me his arm was malformed,
a congenital defect.
Yes, that's how he's always described it.
Then he was always lying.
_
Wanna take me upstairs?
Thank you.
Connor.
Van Bergen just got on a water taxi.
To where?
Well, it's not goin' to Buenos Aires.
I'm goin' out fer a while!
He's going to Buenos Aires
if we've gotta take him there ourselves.
You're doing it all wrong.
- What? - You have to use your eyes.
My eyes?
You know, bat your lashes. Draw 'em in.
No. Like this.
You make an awful girl.
Goin' somewhere, son?
Come back!
Who are you?
I have money.
Take this.
You're a degenerate,
a filthy...
murdering pederast.
You've no right to live among decent people.
I'm a van Bergen.
We're part of the 400.
400, my arse.
You're nothing but a rich, little pansy!
Dirty sodomite!
You cannot talk to me like that!
I'm a Van Bergen!
You cannot touch me!
Easy now, Connor.
You won't do that.
You can't do that.
Dirty sodomite.
You'll pay for this!
You'll hang!
Holy Mother of God!
To hell with him!
That'll do.
Do you really think we can catch this man?
Multi-murderers rarely get away with their crimes for long.
What about Jack the Ripper?
There are exceptions,
of course.
Hello.
Joseph.
Is everything all right?
Yes. It's just too hot
working in the room with the window closed.
Does he really work for the police?
Buy us a bottle of champagne?
How old are you?
How old would you like?
Hello.
I'm happy to see you're not still out on the street.
What's your name?
Rosie. Take me upstairs.
How about some poetry instead, Rosie?
Poetry?
Wouldn't you like to get away from all this?
I can help you.
How do you mean?
A pansy by way of Khartoum,
took a lesbian up to his room.
They argued all night as to who had the right
to do what, with which, and to whom.
Tell another.
I can take you away...
to a castle.
We can go there together.
If all you gotta do is draw pictures to make money,
why doesn't everybody do it?
Because not everybody has the talent.
Find a room upstairs. Wait for me there.
Joseph...
Do not leave this room. Stay here!
It was him. It was him.
Stop him!
Stop! Police!
I'm sorry.
Do you play?
When I was younger.
Do you know the piece?
Yes.
I was told you were once something of a prodigy.
I suppose I had my moment in the sun.
He'll be looking for you.
Keep the curtains open.
Put the chair against the door.
What's Stevie doing in that room?
Something's wrong.
Stay here!
What happened to your arm, Doctor?
That is no concern of yours.
But why do you feel it necessary to lie about it?
Stop. I will not have you talk to me that way.
Whatever it is, it's what accounts for your bias against the killer.
That's true, isn't it?
Who did this to you, Doctor?
I see no need to discuss my private life with you.
Why can't you do what you yourself demand of others
and be honest?
You don't have the courage
to see yourself for who you really are.
It's because you're a coward.
Laszlo!
Hurry!
Hey. It's okay. It's me.
Stevie! Where is he?
- He got away. - Perhaps the others saw him.
What's going on?
Cyrus.
Miss Howard, please stay with Stevie.
Cyrus?
Cyrus!
Cyrus.
We have to get him medical attention.
Go and find a roundsman.
Wait. Why would the man attack Cyrus
and draw attention to himself?
Makes no sense.
Unless...
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