♪ ♪
Do not betray your kind, Roosevelt.
You'll find yourself with no friends.
You have no right to live among decent people.
I'm a Van Bergen! You're a nobody!
[Gunshot]
You don't have the courage to see yourself
for who you really are. It's because you're a coward.
[Slap]
♪ ♪
I can take you away.
Stop him! [Indistinct shouting]
♪ ♪
[Gunshots]
Cyrus?
- Where is he? - He got away.
♪ ♪
[Clock ticking]
[Children shouting playfully]
[Rapid scribbling]
[Clock continues ticking]
[Indistinct conversations in distance]
Is that closer, Stevie?
No, that ain't him, neither.
[Dishes clanking]
Are you quite sure the eyes weren't further apart?
No. I told you, the eyes were bunched up
and the forehead was big as a wall.
That could have been the angle you saw him from.
- He was a tall man. - Don't put words in his mouth.
The one thing I know better than you is how to draw.
The drawings may be yours, but it's Stevie who saw the man's face, not you.
Listen to what he tells you. Don't tell him what he saw.
He's telling me what he saw.
But you're not listening. [Rapid scribbling]
You're drawing what you want to draw.
Why don't you draw it, then?
All that's required is that you put aside
your preconceived notions of who the killer is
and just listen to what's being said. I am listening!
Stop!
Stop it!
[Clock continues ticking]
We ain't gonna find nobody like this.
[Sighs] [Paper rustles]
[Crowd shouting]
Doctor, do you not find it ironic that an immigrant child
was left at the foot of Lady Liberty herself?!
[Shouting continues]
[Shouting continues in distance]
[Footsteps approach]
- You can't be in here. - Dr. Tuthill, it's all right.
They're here at my request.
Has the child been identified?
His name is Ernst Lohmann.
He called himself "Rosie."
He worked at the brothel we were watching.
As we've observed with the others,
removal of the genitalia,
severing of the right hand above the wrist...
both the ulna and radius cleanly cut...
massive damage to the thorax
with lateral lacerations to the abdomen.
He only cut out one eye.
Perhaps he was interrupted?
[Squishing] He's taken his heart.
That's new.
[Instruments clank] Also, he's removed
this section of scalp covering the parietal bone.
Roosevelt: Scalped.
I've only ever seen the likes of that out West.
What did you say?
I saw something similar when I was ranching in the Dakotas.
I had the misfortune to look upon the corpses
of several white men mutilated after an Indian massacre.
Look at the body, please.
Are you sure what you saw was similar?
Similar, yes... the eyes...
the lower parts.
Of course.
After you've finished, re-examine the correspondence
we received from the mental hospitals, the asylums.
Look for any mention of patients with a connection to the West.
Indians, settlers, laborers of the rail road...
we make no distinction, not yet.
Miss Howard will be needed to assist them.
And now if I may have a moment alone.
[Door creaks]
[Door creaks closed]
♪ ♪
[Clank]
♪ ♪
[Squishes]
[Blade whooshes]
[Speaks German]
♪ ♪
== Synced & corrected by MaxPayne ==
[Crowd shouting indistinctly]
You who have no children. You have no soul.
He has no children of his own so he must use
the children of others to prove his crazy ideas... our children!
[Shouting intensifies]
[Punches landing]
[Grunting]
[Shouting continues]
Get in.
Good morning, gentlemen.
[Shouting continues]
♪ ♪
What happened?
Another kid was gutted, this time right under our noses.
[Paper rustles]
It wasn't Van Bergen what done it.
Not him?
Huh. Th-th-the timin'... it don't fit right.
He was already...
He was already what?
Well, speak up, man.
[Clears throat]
[Sips]
[Glass clatters]
[Lowered voice] Twas an accident.
[Chair scrapes floor] What did you do to him?
"Keep an eye on him," I said.
What do I pay you for, anyway? Jesus!
Don't worry. Chief, they won't be found.
I took care of it.
♪ ♪
[Sighs]
♪ ♪
[Sighs]
Let me tell you how this city is run, ya stupid mick.
We serve the rich,
and in return they raise us above the primordial filth.
And God help us if we don't keep our end of the bargain.
You see, to them,
you and me are nothing but dumb animals,
no better than the lowlifes and the tenement scum
we protect 'em from.
It don't matter that they...
that they got soft hands
and that they dress in silk bloomers.
So long as they have money, we do their biddin'.
♪ ♪
And if you don't, they'll pay someone twice your size
to sink you to the bottom of the river,
like you no doubt done to their son.
♪ ♪
Chief.
♪ ♪
So don't tell me that you bloody took care of it.
♪ ♪
[Chair clatters]
[Door slams]
[Hooves clopping] Can I drop you gentlemen somewhere?
The Natural History Museum, if it's convenient.
- 77th and... - I know where it is.
[Horse whinnies] West 77th and Central Park, Jack.
Jack: You got it, boss. [Man shouting indistinctly in distance]
I once read a monograph you wrote.
I even understood some of it.
Is that what we're here to discuss?
"The Harm We Do To Our Children Is Revisited On Ourselves."
Catchy title.
Have you children, Mr. Kelly?
I count all the poor of the Five Points as mine.
Abused by their betters,
swindled by Wall Street,
shunned by the swells on Millionaires' Row...
I was proud of my people back there.
They've gotten off their knees for once.
But you know how mobs can be.
Arranged by yourself, no doubt.
Oh.
You're looking a little more chipper than the last time we met.
Where was that again?
[Hooves clopping, man shouting in distance]
In this case, what do we owe you for the ride,
other than our gratitude?
Jack: Whoa there!
[Horse whinnying] Well, now that you're asking,
you could deliver a gentle word
in the ear of your friend, Mr. Roosevelt.
He keeps my brothels shut down any longer,
he will have hell to to pay.
You can let him know
the rioting today was just a taster.
It was our idea to close the brothels, Mr. Kelly.
Sure, I know.
And I applaud your efforts.
So let me tell you, Doctor...
You are fighting a monster...
one that reaches from Millionaires' Mile
all the way down to Mulberry Street,
and if you're not careful,
it will devour you long before you find your child killer.
♪ ♪
Excuse us for being late, Miss Howard.
Let's get started. Here's the correspondence
from the mental hospitals
the doctor wanted us to re-examine.
Shall we?
Man: I hope you're not implying the native customs
have anything to do with these murders.
I mean, we have got already enough trouble
changing the public view of the natives.
That's what we've come to find out, Franz.
My own knowledge about the Plains Tribes
is poorly inefficient,
but I have a young colleague who may be able to help you.
♪ ♪
What is it?
A detailed description,
uh, from an asylum inmate who witnessed the battlefield
after Little Bighorn.
Well, read it aloud.
He's too old to be our man.
Besides, he's still locked up.
Please don't look at me like that.
Or each other.
"The bodies were heaped around four great boulders.
I saw eyeballs torn out and smeared on the rocks...
"brains, too. Noses and ears were hacked off
"and entrails exposed.
"General Custer's body lay in the middle of the carnage."
Uh, "His thighs had been slashed to the bone, his ears slit,
and at least a dozen arrows pierced his groin."
Castration and mutilation of the genitals were quite common.
The Sioux believed that each man'sNagi,his spirit,
entered the afterlife in the exact same form
he left the world at his death.
So if a warrior truly hated his enemy,
he'd chop off his manhood to prevent him
from enjoying the pleasures of copulation in the spirit world.
Spirits copulate?
I, uh, suppose there's not much else to do.
- Hmm. - What about the eyes?
The belief is theNagihas to take a perilous journey
to reach the spirit world.
If the eyes are missing, they can't find their way
and thus will be forced to return to our world
and wander forever as a lost and forlorn ghost.
Of course, that's one big difference
with the mutilations you're investigating.
And that is?
Children.
No self-respecting Plains Indian
would ever commit this kind of ritual mutilation on a child.
It would mean admitting you considered the child a threat,
and that'd be deemed shameful and cowardly.
Then you don't believe that our mutilations
were part of an Indian ritual?
To anyone who understands the culture, most decidedly not.
What about someone who doesn't understand the culture,
someone who has perhaps witnessed mutilations
such as these without knowing what they mean?
Then I'd say they would apply to them their own meaning.
Kreizler: "Dirtier than a Red Injun."
It's in the letter he wrote to Mrs. Santorelli.
He's witnessed these things, probably as a child
since there's been no account of a massacre for 20 years...
not by Indians, anyway.
But Van Bergen was never out West? Exactly.
We blundered last night, John, but we're getting closer.
[Indistinct chatter]
[Footsteps in distance]
[Baby crying in distance]
[Taps door] Miss Joanna?
I'm glad you were able to get here so quickly.
Miss Joanna would make you Mr. Laszlo.
Miss Crawford. How is he?
He was asking if you'd been to visit.
I brought him some food.
The fare at hospitals can be less than flavorful.
Cyrus told me you've found employment?
Yes, at The Philadelphia Tribune.
Excellent.
They only pay me by the article,
but I'll be able to reimburse you soon.
The money I gave Cyrus for your education
requires no repayment.
The service he's provided me over the years
is quite sufficient.
You mean nearly getting himself killed?
I see I've offended you without knowing why.
You could have released him from your services a long time ago.
That was your decision to make.
I have as much need of him as he has of me.
More, I'd say.
I was speaking of friendship.
Your "friend" spends most of his time in the stables.
My uncle may take acts of kindness
as a mark of your decency,
but I see keeping him downtrodden
through courtesy and progressive ideas
as simply more effective than using shackles and a whip.
Thank you for letting me know about my uncle, Doctor.
And thank you as well for paying for my schooling.
I still intend to reimburse you.
♪ ♪
[Playing chords]
♪ ♪
[Plays discordant chords]
♪ ♪
[Typewriter keys clack]
- Here's another one. - The same hospital?
Of the patients who match our description that
have spent time in the West, these four were sent
to St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Washington.
Look at this one.
Rudolf Bunzl,
released and later committed to Blackwell's Island
right here in the city.
That means they'll have records on him.
[Dog barking in distance]
[Chickens clucking]
I've asked Mary to vacate her room
so you'd have a more comfortable place to convalesce.
Cyrus: Hmm.
I'd like to thank you both for your help. [Glass clatters]
Frankly, it was more than help.
You've put yourselves at great risk.
What I mean to say is that I take responsibility for the fact
that you came so close to...
What I really mean to say is that, uh...
I apologize.
♪ ♪
I feel I've taken your loyalty and trust for granted.
♪ ♪
Doctor...
You don't have to apologize.
Right, Stevie?
Right.
Well...
I hope you'll be comfortable.
[Indistinct conversations, hooves clopping]
[Bell clangs]
Egg cream, please. [Door closes]
Mm-hmm. Coming up.
♪ ♪
[Bell clangs, door closes]
[Muffled grunting]
♪ ♪
[Groans]
[Exhaling sharply]
[Hooves clopping]
John.
Laszlo?
You've been chloroformed.
I could smell it when I got in the wagon.
But by whom, I don't know.
[Wagon rattling]
Man: Whoa there.
[Wagon stops]
[Door unlatches]
[Door creaks]
[Door bangs]
[Leaves rustling]
[Door closes and latches]
What happened to your uniform, Captain?
Go on, get, society boy. [Hits arm]
[Grunts]
[Man singing operatically in distance]
[Dog barking in distance]
♪ ♪
[Man continues singing]
♪ ♪
[Man continues singing]
♪ ♪
Well, Laszlo, it seems we find ourselves
in the presence of a great many sainted men.
Dr. Kreizler, we're aware of your investigation and demand
that you and your colleagues desist.
Yes. Bishop Potter, I wonder why you,
a leader of the Church and a pillar of the community
would want to stop us in our quest
to find the perpetrator of these terrible murders?
Because it's a matter for the police.
[Clock ticking]
The man responsible e for these crimes
has been active for some time,
but the police seem to be unable or unwilling to stop him.
Some of the victims were killed during your tenure, Mr. Byrnes.
Not a day goes by in this city
without some little grifter being found dead on misery lane.
Murder is murder.
Not when it leads
to the door of an innocent man.
Willem Van Bergen did not commit these murders.
Of that, I'm quite certain.
Oh, no. That's a lie. He don't believe that.
No, you and criminals like Paul Kelly,
along with the agitators
and the socialists on his payroll
are subverting the law.
My only concern is that of seven dead children.
Gentlemen.
[Chuckles] Do you know why I collect art?
It persuades me that the world
is a more beautiful place than I know it to be.
I take comfort in that which I can understand.
And a man who kills for no apparent reason
is beyond my comprehension.
Mr. Morgan, you are a pioneer in your field.
You've turned finance into a science.
I hope to do the same for the human mind,
criminal or otherwise.
By looking at the man's methods,
his appetites and his victims,
I believe I can build a clear enough picture
to understand his motives
and thereby capture him.
Hmm.
[Inhales, exhales sharply]
Bishop Potter, may I suggest that you take your leave?
And talk to the family of the boy in question.
Let them know that their son is no longer under suspicion.
It's the least we can do,
seeing as how these false accusations
have forced the boy to flee the country.
Mr. Byrnes, why don't you accompany the Bishop?
I'm sure the family would like a reassuring word
from you as well. Hmm?
[Clock chiming, door opens]
[Door creaks closed]
Doctor, your beliefs are interesting.
I believe there are two reasons
why a man does what he does...
the good reason and the real reason.
Then why don't you tell us the real reason why you forced us here?
[Chuckles]
The city is changing.
In four years time, we'll be entering the 20th century,
and New York is poised to become
the greatest economic powerhouse this world has ever seen.
But to do so...
we need a complaint workforce.
[Lid clinks]
[Bottle clatters]
The civil unrest caused by these murders troubles me
a great deal, a great deal, indeed...
possibly even more than the murders themselves.
A harsh truth, hmm, but a truth nonetheless.
Would you like a lemonade, Mr. Moore?
No, thank you.
[Glasses clink]
[Gulps, swallows]
[Exhales deeply]
[Hooves clopping]
What happened? It looks as though that fat son of a bitch
is going to let that alienist continue with his investigation.
They suspect something. I know it.
Well, you better hope that it stays a suspicion.
Let's go!
[Horse whinnies]
[Hooves clopping]
[Horse whinnies]
Better get The Swede back.
Tell him to bring more than chloroform this time.
♪ ♪
Gentlemen, you have made yourself a very wide variety
of very powerful enemies in a very short period of time.
Now, I can offer you no public support,
but a quick resolution to this sordid affair
is in everyone's best interest.
Therefore, if you should find yourself in need
of any resources in your quest to find this man...
Thank you, Mr. Morgan... but there would be no advantage
to our investigation to have your financial involvement,
especially if it were ever to be made public.
♪ ♪
I see. Hmm.
Mm-hmm.
You gentlemen have yourselves a good day.
Why would you turn down his offer if he wants to help you?
Men such as J.P. Morgan are only capable of doing what
they perceive to be in their best interest.
You don't take something from people like that
without them expecting something in return.
But what could a man like J.P. Morgan want from you?
I don't know, but I'm most unwilling to find out.
♪ ♪
[Door creaks]
[Door creaks shut]
[Lock turns]
[Indistinct groaning]
[Woman gasps, sobs]
♪ ♪
[Rattling]
[Breathing heavily]
[Gasps] Help me.
I'm not crazy. Help me.
Man: Miss!
[Door opens, creaks]
Help me!
[Exhales deeply]
[Door creaks]
[Woman sobs in distance]
[Door creaks]
You're Miss Howard from Commissioner Roosevelt Office?
Yes.
You wrote a letter some time back
making inquires about patients, I believe.
Yes.
And we have no one here who fit the parameters of your search.
At the time, no.
However, upon looking through correspondence
from another hospital, it appears there's a patient here
who matches certain other reference points.
St. Elizabeth's.
Rudolf Bunzl.
Mr. Bunzl was released six years ago.
[Laughter in distance]
May I see his records?
Blackwell's male patients are being moved to another facility
and all records along with them.
I'm afraid I couldn't say where Mr. Bunzl's file is right now.
You could ask St. Elizabeth's for their records.
[Slides letter]
Excuse me.
Can I ask why St. Elizabeth's receives patients
from the Western states and territories?
You work directly for Commissioner Roosevelt?
I do.
Because it's a government hospital.
Pardon me?
St. Elizabeth's... Its official name
is The Government Hospital for the Insane,
but it's referred to as "St. Elizabeth's"
out of courtesy for its patients.
And who are its patients?
Soldiers and sailors deemed unfit for service
due to mental problems.
Soldiers?
Yes.
Sent from out West?
Some.
Thank you.
[Door opens, closes]
[Man singing operatically]
[Dishes and tray clatter]
Mary?
♪ ♪
[Shoe squeaking]
I've been thinking of the circumstances
in which you live...
that is, in which we live.
♪ ♪
I have no doubt that what happened early in your life
was the result of events that
provoked an aberrant outburst of violence on your part.
However, I believe that it's behind you.
♪ ♪
So I wonder if it might be best for you...
to strike out on your own.
♪ ♪
You're a woman now...
and capable of living by yourself.
♪ ♪
[Thud]
♪ ♪
[Footsteps depart]
[Horses whinny]
[Hooves clopping]
Sara?
He's a soldier.
What?
I think he may have been a soldier.
I went to Blackwell's Island today.
That must have been difficult. Are you all right?
Yes, thank you.
I went there to ask after a patient,
a man with a history of violence toward children.
He was once committed to a mental hospital in Washington,
sent there from out West. - I don't see the connection.
St. Elizabeth's is The Government Hospital for the Insane.
It's where they send soldiers and sailors
deemed unfit for duty.
- What did you find out? - He was released from Blackwell
six years ago.
I rang St. Elizabeth's and asked them to tell me more about him,
but they wouldn't provide any information over the telephone.
I propose that I go there in person.
- Have you told Kreizler? - You'll have to tell him.
Well, come on, then, we'll go together.
No.
Sara, what's wrong?
Has something happened between you?
He was right about one thing...
given certain circumstances, we're all capable of violence.
Did he hurt you?
[Breathes heavily]
[Hooves clopping in distance]
[Squeaking]
[Rattling]
♪ ♪
[Rattling continues]
♪ ♪
[Knife clatters, continues rattling]
Ezra?
Ezra!
Where did you get this?
A knife is not a toy.
♪ ♪
Just couldn't sleep?
Come on.
[Squeaking]
[Giggles]
[Squeaking continues]
[Continues giggling]
[Squeaking continues]
[Giggles] [Chuckles]
He likes you.
[Squeaking continues]
Hmm. Let's put him to bed.
[Chirping continues]
I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?
John. John, this is Ezra.
[Squeaking continues]
Hello, Ezra.
Think you can sleep now?
Well, then, good night.
What's the matter, John?
You seem disquieted by something.
What did you do to her?
- To whom? - Sara.
I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.
What happened?
That's why you've come, to ask me about Sara?
I've come to tell you it's possible our killer
was once a solider out West.
How did you arrive at this?
Sara.
She intends to go to Washington to continue investigating.
That would only draw attention to Roosevelt.
We'll make the trip ourselves.
Tell me what happened between you.
Sara felt entitled to bring up certain things...
personal things that I would rather not discuss with you.
May I remind you it was I that introduced you?
Yes, our handsome but indolent mutual friend.
Is that what you think of me?
No. It's what Sara thinks of you.
I'm sorry to say it, John,
but I'm afraid that's all she'll ever think of you.
She's far too kind to say it,
so it's best you hear it from me.
Be careful, Laszlo,
or you're going to end up a lonely old man.
♪ ♪
[Crowd shouting indistinctly]
[Grunting]
[Shouting continues]
Man: Come on! Knock him out!
[Grunting]
20 on Eat 'Em Up Jack.
[Shouting continues, punches landing]
Come on, Jack!
Eat 'em up!
[Grunting]
Oh! Oh!
[Blows land, groaning]
[Shouting continues]
♪ ♪
[Door closes, glass clatters]
[Shouting continues]
[Grunts]
[Shouting continues]
♪ ♪
[Hooves clopping]
♪ ♪
[Blow lands]
[Coughing]
You lost, society boy?
Wandered out of your own neighborhood?
Then again...
you seem to like it down here...
with all the fairies, the sodomites.
[Chuckles] Must be a fairy yourself, huh?
[Gasping]
Am I right?
- [Continues gasping] - Look at me.
Look at me!
[Grunts]
[Coughs]
You're in well over your head, you and that alienist.
♪ ♪
Do you hear me?
You don't scare me, Connor.
[Orchestra playing]
[Woman singing operatically]
♪ ♪
[Footsteps approach]
[Lid clattering]
♪ ♪
[Utensil clinking]
♪ ♪
[Utensil clinking]
♪ ♪
Mary...
♪ ♪
After all that's happened in the past 24 hours, I...
♪ ♪
If it's not a presumption, I...
I'd very much like if you would join me for dinner.
♪ ♪
[Footsteps depart]
♪ ♪
[Footsteps approach]
♪ ♪
Please sit closer.
♪ ♪
I don't know why I didn't ask before.
♪ ♪
This is "O Patria Mia" from Verdi's "Aida."
♪ ♪
Of course you know that.
[Song ends]
♪ ♪
[Man singing operatically]
♪ ♪