All language subtitles for The.Alienist.S01E07.Many Sainted Men.CRAVERS

With Pentecost tomorrow,

I believe our killer will
be compelled to act.

We plan on using a decoy.

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!

You don't have the courage
to see yourself

for who you really are.
It's because you're a coward.

I can take you away.

Stop him!

Cyrus?

- Where is he?
- He got away.

_

_

Is that closer, Stevie?

No, that ain't him, neither.

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.

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!

We ain't gonna find nobody like this.

Doctor, do you not find it
ironic that an immigrant child

was left at the foot
of Lady Liberty herself?!

- 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?

He's taken his heart.

That's new.

Also, he's removed

this section of scalp
covering the parietal bone.

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 railroad...

we make no distinction, not yet.

Miss Howard will be needed
to assist them.

And now if I may have a moment alone.

_

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

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!

Get in.

Good morning, gentlemen.

_

What happened?

Another kid was gutted, this
time right under our noses.

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.

Twas an accident.

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, he won't be found.

I took care of it.

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.

Can I drop you gentlemen somewhere?

The Natural History Museum,
if it's convenient.

- 77th and...
- I know where it is.

West 77th and Central Park, Jack.

You got it, boss.

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?

In this case, what do we owe you
for the ride,

other than our gratitude?

Whoa there!

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?

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's Nagi, 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 the Nagi has
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.

"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.

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.

- 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.

I've asked Mary to vacate her room

so you'd have a more comfortable
place to convalesce.

Hmm.

I'd like to thank you both for your help.

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.

Egg cream, please.

Mm-hmm. Coming up.

John.

Laszlo?

You've been chloroformed.

I could smell it when I got in the wagon.

But by whom, I don't know.

Whoa there.

What happened to your uniform, Captain?

Go on, get, society boy.

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.

The man responsible 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.

Gentlemen.

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.

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?

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?

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 compliant workforce.

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.

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!

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.

Help me.

I'm not crazy. Help me.

Miss!

Help me!

You're Miss Howard from
Commissioner Roosevelt's 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.

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.

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.

Mary?

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.

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?

Ezra?

Ezra!

Where did you get this?

A knife is not a toy.

Just couldn't sleep?

Come on.

He likes you.

Hmm. Let's put him to bed.

I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?

John. John, this is Ezra.

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.

Come on! Knock him out!

20 on Eat 'Em Up Jack.

Come on, Jack!

Eat 'em up!

Oh! Oh!

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.

Must be a fairy yourself, huh?

Am I right?

Look at me.

Look at me!

You're in well over your head,
you and that alienist.

Do you hear me?

You don't scare me, Connor.

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.

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.