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Newspapers, newspapers!

Russia has made a deal with England!
Newspapers!

I don’t understand
why you’re so indignant.

Following fashion trends is natural
for a woman. It’s an instinct.

I don’t have it, which is also natural.

People are looking at us.
Something wrong with my clothes?

No, Mama. They are looking at me.

It has come to that!

Newspapers!

Anna Mironova and her communication
with spirits influence our town!

Newspapers.

Piotr Ivanovich did you no favor
by involving you into this medium thing

and leaving to Europe.
Are you happy now? Let’s go home, now.

Anna Mironova and her communication
with spirits influence our town!

Buy a pennywhistle! Please.

That’s what we need
right now. Wait. Here.

Thank you.

Anna, let’s go home!

One,

two,

three,

four, five.

Ready or not, here I come.

DETECTIVE ANNA

Neither Dr. Milts,
nor Potapov arise any suspicions.

THE ADEPTS
EPISODE 51

They live a normal life
between their work and home.

Potapov visits his
country house once a week.

His distant female relative lives there.
She came to stay there recently.

Did you see her?

A couple times, from afar.
No, she’s not Alice.

Why do you think so?

She’s a sane person.
It’s obvious even from distance.

She’s running the house.

Did you see her face?

Not up close.
She’s always covered with a shawl.

Does Dr. Milts ever come there?

No. He went fishing with his
medical assistant a couple times.

- Our doctor?
- Yes. And this lady was with them.

- Keep watching.
- Whom? The doctor or the assistant?

Both. And the girl, too. Just be careful.
They mustn’t notice you.

I understand. Will do.

Yakov Platonovich. I’m glad to see you.

Have you read this?

What is it?

It’s interesting. Here.

“The plot thickens in Zatonsk.
Our city is in the eye of a storm,

a tornado bringing murders.
Well, every sin has to be punished.

The mediums should be smitten by God.
Their names are well known:

Anna Mironova and Piotr Mironov,
who has recently escaped to Europe.”

- Guess who the author is.
- I’ll kill Riabushinsky.

Thus confirming his theory.

I’m not his admirer,
either, but he has a point.

Murders happened in
Zatonsk before, too,

but I never had to
autopsy bodies every day.

I feel like a butcher.

Doctor, not you, too.

Yakov Platonovich,
I’m no less materialistic than you. Wait.

You know better than I do how much
the number of murders in Zatonsk

has increased recently.

So you believe we
are inside a tornado?

Yes. A tornado and
a typhoon. Goodbye.

Doctor.

- I didn’t know you were an angler.
- What did you say?

- Anna, stop it at once.
- Don’t you like it, Mother?

This whistle is full of infections.
Did you see that tramp?

- His face and hands were dirty.
- But his soul was pure.

Praskovya!

This is what it came to.

Where is your father?

He should sue that bastard
Riabushinsky and his dirty newspaper.

Why? Riabushinsky might be right.

What are you saying?

Anna, stop it at once.
You are driving me crazy.

Mother, I should fetch some
food and money for that beggar.

Don’t you dare!

You can’t leave the house
after you’ve been defamed.

- Give me more blueberry pie.
- Yes.

Wait.

No. I don’t need the pie.

Give me a penny to
buy some bread. Please!

Father, give me something.

Leave me alone.

Please! Don’t go.
Giving to others cures one’s soul.

Only vodka can cure my soul.
Here, take this.

You must be a great sinner
if only vodka can cure you.

Don’t get too smart if you want alms.

What is your name?

- Serafim.
- Who killed you?

Pride is a dark power.

It wanders around the town,
taking weak souls.

Stay with me. Point the
murderer to me when you see him.

Come in.

I’m sorry.
They can’t send that soldier to us.

He’s dead.

That is what I said about.
The experiment is finishing itself.

Now only laboratory experiment left.
I need soldier body.

It’s impossible.

What?

The family has taken it.

What? Take it back now.

How can I take it back?

You take like you want.
I need body. Damn it!

Damage assessment make.

I will try.
If they haven’t buried it yet, of course.

My God! Stupid country.

Give me something for God’s sake.
For a loaf of bread.

Miss, give me something! Thank you.

For God’s sake, give me something.
For a loaf of bread.

Brothers, give me something!

Sir, give me money to buy some bread,
for God’s sake.

Here.

God bless you, sir.

Here. Take this and
get out of this town.

I don’t want to see you again.

Why are you turning me out, sir?

Don’t you know?
Somebody is killing beggars.

Of course I heard about it.
They say it’s that witch.

What witch?

The lawyer’s daughter.
She put a hex on this town.

- Do you know her?
- Hush. It’s me, Anton Andreyevich.

Anna Viktorovna, why this charade?

Don’t give me away.
I’m investigating the death of a beggar.

But...

Quiet. I’ll go first,
and you’ll follow me.

Just stay behind. All right?

- I...
- Quiet.

Congratulations are in order. Mr. Brown
and I will soon announce our engagement.

- How fast. I came up with a rescue plan.
- Nothing can rescue me.

Aren’t you going to listen, at least?

Why? Nothing can be done.

The prince will go to extremes
if I don’t marry Brown.

What extremes do you mean?

You know. They’ll find me in
the river and take to Dr. Milts.

I’ll lay on the table naked,
and you’ll weep. Coffee, please.

Coming up.

- No, a glass of champagne.
- Yes, ma’am.

I imagine you crying in the morgue
with your shoulders shaking.

And Dr. Milts standing behind you
with a knife, waiting for his turn.

Just listen to my plan.

You go to St. Petersburg
by the next train,

leaving behind a written statement
about the Prince’s frauds.

You’ll present yourself
as a blackmail victim, of course.

Then you go on to Europe.

I won’t make the statement public
until I’m certain you are safe.

Safe? Where can I be safe?

In Paris, for example.
We’ll make you a new passport.

You’ll live under an assumed name.

Assumed name?

Will you come to me under
an assumed name, too?

See?

How will I live without you?
Without St. Petersburg? My life?

Your plan wouldn’t work.

It’s a done deal. I’ll marry Brown.

And for now I have a plan, too.

I’ll go to my room...
and you’ll follow me in a while.

I’ll leave the door unlocked.

Anna Viktorovna... this is so you!

Two beggars were killed last night,
and you dress up like one.

- Another one was killed tonight.
- How?

Just like this.
I saw him alive just this morning.

How do you... Right.

I’ve been standing there for two hours,
and there was a man watching me.

Moustache, checkered coat.

He sent a boy to try
and start me chatting.

Where is he?

I don’t know.

Anna Viktorovna, you are...
unbelievably careless. This is just...

I just want to know who killed the beggar.

There he is.

- Who?
- The gentlemen with a moustache.

It’s Owl. We know him.

He collects tribute from local beggars.
A disgusting type.

- What did he want from me?
- The same, I suppose. Money.

Can he be the murderer?

Hardly. Why would he kill beggars?
It’s his bread and butter.

But I must talk to him.

Wait. First you should get
Shtolman to the crime scene.

Where is it?

On the outskirts,
bordering with the woods,

at the abandoned well.

I know the well.

That’s where it happened.
Go. Leave me.

I’ll be right back.

Give me something!
For God’s sake, give me some money.

Give money to the poor woman.
For God’s sake!

Please give me something. For God’s...

sake.

Run, run.

What a nice face.

Go.

Thank you.

Yakov Platonovich, it’s urgent.

How did you find me?

You always drink coffee
at the hotel at this time.

- Is someone killed?
- I think so.

- You think so?
- Anna Viktorovna told me.

Where did you see her?

- She was begging in the street.
- What do you mean?

- Asking for alms.
- Why?

It’s camouflage.
She said Owl approached her.

How could you leave her there alone?
You should have walked her home.

I should have. It’s easy to say.
You know Anna Viktorovna.

If she isn’t there,
find this Owl for me.

- I’ll find him wherever he is.
- You will.

What did she tell you?

Here is the well.

It’s the only one here.

It’s been four hours.

I guess so.
The footprints are headed that way.

Someone was chasing someone else.

Here! Yakov
Platonovich. Here he is.

Two lethal wounds.

He’s dead.

Send the body to the morgue.
Examine the scene thoroughly.

Yes, Yakov Platonovich.

Wow!

Is this from a revolver?

Looks like a Colt.

Anna Viktorovna, how are you?

It’s true that you like risk.

Who are you?
What do you want from me?

We are those you’re looking for.

The killers of the beggars,
the useless and the senseless.

Don’t worry, though.
You are absolutely safe.

Moreover, we are your admirers
and want to become your disciples.

What? I don’t understand.

Patience, please.
Give me your hand.

Your hand!

Don’t be afraid. Come closer.

- Are you a police informer?
- No.

- Are you a fraud?
- No.

- Do you really see ghosts?
- Yes.

Good. Anna Viktorovna.

What I’m about to offer you
is going to change your life.

You won’t be able to see
things the way you used to.

On the outside, nothing will change,

but the mysteries that
will be revealed to you

will turn upside down your inner self.

Wherever you are,
you will always stay on the top.

You will decide people’s fates
and play with their souls.

Moreover,
nobody will ever be able to resist you.

- What do you want from me?
- Anna Viktorovna, be my sovereign.

I don’t understand.

Patience!

Before I introduce you into our society,
which, I hope,

you’ll eventually become a leader of,
I need to make sure you are reliable

and will be able to accept our rules.

For the start, I’ll say I have
two dozen people loyal to me.

And all this is for your sake,
Anna Viktorovna.

We can discuss the rest later.

Drink. Drink, Anna Viktorovna.

This bullet was shot from a shotgun.

It hit the lumbar spine.

Kulikovsky’s bullet
for an 1843 Brunswick short rifle.

A rarity.

You really know your weapons.

But this wound wasn’t lethal.

This one was.

Judging by the traces of gunpowder on
the clothes, it was shot point-blank.

It’s from a revolver. A Colt, I believe.
Two weapons in one murder.

One of them rather old,
from a collection or a museum.

- Can I take them?
- Of course.

Tell me, Mr. Zakrievsky...

Does anyone in this town
have a Brunswick rifle?

- Of 1843 make?
- Exactly.

I don’t suppose anybody still uses them.
It doesn’t fit for local hunts.

- Also, it’s outdated.
- Do you sell ammunition for short rifles?

No. I never sold
any short rifles or bullets for them.

I deal with modern weapons.

Such vintage can be found
only in private collections.

Do you know any?

Stepan Ignatyevich Yakovlev
has a nice collection.

There are some rarities in it.

If anybody has a Brunswick rifle,
it’s him.

- The colt is a 1853 make, ’44.
- I’m impressed.

It’s quite rare. It came either from
an old barn, or from a collection.

Isn’t it odd,
using different vintage guns for a murder

instead of buying a new one?

People get used to old
things and old ways,

which become their
paraphernalia and rituals.

I need your help, if you don't mind.
I could use a least of persons

who own such guns or ever
bought ammunition for them.

I never sold revolvers of this kind.
I’m not sure about ammunition.

I can’t give you an answer right now.
I need to consult my records.

Thank you.

I have a shooting range.

One can test and sight the weapon here.
Go ahead.

All right. I’ll definitely come for
a gun practice one of these days.

Open your eyes.

We’ll announce our engagement today.

But I have a condition.

I’m listening.

First, I want,
I demand that the wedding take place

one month after the engagement.

Yes.

Second, after the wedding
you’ll give me a job at your laboratory.

Yes, I want to work with you.

I want to admire my husband’s work.

I know I can’t be equal
to a great scientist like you,

but I can do simple chores:

washing the test tubes,
copying papers or blueprints.

I’m eager to share your work,
to be your companion.

I insist on this condition.

My God. No woman has ever set
forth such conditions to me.

The defense department might have
objections, though.

My work is top secret.

I will use my influence
and connections.

I seek official permission
and they shall give it to me.

After all, I will be your wife.

Husband and wife share their life,
as the saying goes.

Even if this life is quite devilish.

Korobeynkiov, what are you doing here,
in plain view?

Surveying, sir.
Anna Viktorovna wasn’t at home.

Her mother doesn’t know
she is posing as a beggar.

I didn’t break the news to her.

Where is Owl?

Owl? I hope he’s around.
It’s his workplace, after all.

I have no other news.

How does he look?

Where is the beggar woman
who was here this morning?

I give you my word
I don’t know anything.

A rascal’s word?

Tell me everything you know,
or you’ll find yourself behind bars.

All right, all right.
I saw the new beggar.

I wanted to take her under my wing,
since I’ve lost a lot of my men recently.

You mean those killed yesterday and today?

Yes. Also, Petrukha and Kuzma
were stabbed in the woods last week.

What shall I eat
if they wipe out all my team?

We’ll feed you in jail.

These murders weren’t
in the police reports.

We don’t go to the coppers
if we can help it.

You are nothing but trouble.

Where are the bodies?

The beggars team gave them a quiet
and decent burial.

I’ll find the culprits myself.
I won’t let them kill my people.

Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes.
Where is the beggar woman?

- She got into a cab with two strangers.
- Who are they?

I don’t know.
They didn’t look like the swell mob.

Just some outsiders.

You said she left in a cab. What cab?

Mikhalych’s.
He’s over there, near the hotel.

If anything happens to her,
you will regret it.

Rascal! Bastard! I’ll sue you,
and your dirty rag will go bankrupt.

- I’ll go to the court tomorrow!
- Excuse me, sir, what’s wrong?

You have published enough
to ensure a sentence.

But if you write one more
word about Anna,

I’ll strangle you with my own hands!

Did you all hear that?
You are my witnesses.

I, attorney Viktor Mironov,
will smash this worm with my two hands

if he writes another word about my daughter
in his filthy newspaper.

Sir, you are offending not
just me but my newspaper!

- What? Your newspaper?
- Yes.

Pour some more.

Mr. Zakrievskiy?
Is something wrong?

You wanted me to make
a list of people buying

or asking for ammunition
for a Colt revolver or short rifle.

Here it is.

Thank you for your help.

By the way, this is my assistant.
Anton Andreyevich Korobeynikov.

Roman Alekseyevich Zakrievskiy.

Now, if you excuse us,
we are a little busy.

- I understand. These murders...
- What? Do you know something?

No. But you can always count on me.

We are looking for the missing
daughter of lawyer Mironov.

So, if you find out anything...

Of course.

You can count on me
as a volunteer, gentlemen.

I’m a good shot.

I hope it won’t come down to this.

- Our lady!
- Our lady!

- Call her!
- Call her!

- Accept her!
- Accept her!

- Lucifer!
- Lucifer!

- Our lady!
- Our lady!

- Call her!
- Call her!

- Accept her!
- Accept her!

-Lucifer!
-Lucifer!

-Our lady!
-Our lady!

- Call her!
- Call her!

- Accept her!
- Accept her!

- Lucifer!
- Lucifer!

- Our lady!
- Our lady!

- Anna!
- Anna!

- Accept her!
- Accept her!

- Call her!
- Lucifer!

- Our lady!
- Our lady!

- Anna!
- Anna!

- Is it over?
- I suppose so.

Who are you? A vagabond?

You interrupted my trial.
Then I’ll go through another one.

What do you want?

Stop! Where are you going?

Semion, give me a hand.

What’s going on?

A beggar. She must be hungry.

Give her something to eat, then.

Wait, this is...

Anna Viktorovna.

Anna Viktorovna.

Where is that house?

I don’t know.

- Who are those people?
- I don’t know.

How many were there?

Two, and then many.
A lot of people with torches.

- Inside the house, with torches?
- No. At the cemetery.

What cemetery?

There is only one in this town.
It was cold.

And there were crosses,
crosses, crosses...

- Anna Viktorovna, what’s wrong with you?
- I don’t know. They did something to me.

You need a rest. We can talk later.

I’m so scared.

Who are these people?
What did they want from me?

What did I do to them?
What did they do to me?

I’m so scared. I’m all alone.

There are monsters everywhere.

- What monsters?
- The scary ones.

Everything will be fine.
You will be all right.

Nothing will be fine, nothing.
Because I’m evil!

I shouldn’t exist. I’m a mistake.

- What are you talking about?
- I’m evil.

Calm down.

Let’s get you home.

What is it? What am I wearing?
Take it off!

- Anna Viktorovna!
- I don’t want it!

Yakov Platonovich...

- Excuse me.
- Wait.

- Get Anna Viktorovna home.
- Yes, sir.

Go home. I promise,
tomorrow you’ll see it differently.

Everything will be fine.

- Anna.
- Thank you.

What is this? What are you wearing?
What are these rags?

It’s a new fashion, Mother.

Where have you been?

At the cemetery, I think.

Praskovya. I need a bath.

- We need to call an exorcist.
- What?

You know,
some priests can exorcize demons.

Masha, are you out of your mind?

Not me but our daughter.
Did she see her stage when she came back?

Something is wrong with her,
and she often says it herself.

I can’t believe you. Are you serious?

You seriously think
our daughter is possessed?

As serious as I can be.

- Here. Do you hear it?
- What am I supposed to hear?

This pennywhistle! Do you hear?
She’ll run away again.

Masha, Masha...

Masha. Wait!

Do you see? She’s fast asleep.

Come on. Let’s go.

I don’t trust her anymore.
We need to call Father Fiodor.

Over my dead body.

Come on.

THE ADEPTS