All language subtitles for Vienna.Blood.S01E01.720p.AMZN.WEBRip.x264-GalaxyTV

Vienna is a city
obsessed by titles.

In London, I was Max.
Just Max.

In Vienna, I am
Dr Maximilian Liebermann.

Physician. Neurologist.
And Englishman...

of course. They don't let
you forget that.

The capital of
a 1,000-year-old empire,

it's also a pedant's heaven.

A family's reputation
can be ruined by

the length of a woman's hem.

There are rules here
for everything.

Romantic memories
are pathogenic.

They create disease.

Banishment of painful
emotionally charged memories

from one's consciousness

requires an active
repressing mechanism.

This is Vienna's gilded age -

and yet there is
something unsettling

deep below the surface.

A shadow realm the city
is struggling to hide.

Welcome to Vienna.

Welcome to my world.

Holy Christ!

Do we have a name?

Neighbors didn't know her.

What's she saying?
You speak Slovak.

Just nonsense.

Get her out of here.

Go out, out.

Please.

"God forgive me.

"I have tasted forbidden fruit

"and he will take...

"take me to hell."

A suicide.

Then where is the weapon?

Someone must have come
in here and taken it.

Door was locked from the inside.

Bolted.

It's the third floor.
Impossible to climb.

It doesn't make sense.

If she'd killed herself,

the weapon would still be here.

The assailant tried to
dressthe thing up as suicide,

panicked, and forgot to leave the weapon.

Her door was locked.

The key was on the inside.

- Windows? Flue?
- Welded shut.

No-one could have made
it inor out of there.

So, you're saying we
have an invisible weapon

and a killer who can pass through
walls, Inspector?

You were on duty
when the call came in?

I'm not sure this is the right
case for you, Rheinhardt.

It's a cab rank!

We take the first case
that comes.

Very well.

There's someone I need you to meet first.

A junior doctor
from the hospital.

He's asked to observe
a criminal case.

I'd prefer not to have
outsiders...

You're to afford him
every courtesy.

His father is a personal friend.

Dr Liebermann?

Inspector Rheinhardt.

What do I call you? Doctor?

Max. My name is Max.

And you?

Inspector.

Woman murdered in Leopoldstadt.

Shot through the heart at close range.

Killer laid her out like she
was a model in a painting.

You're just here
as an observer, right?

The psychopathy
of the criminal mind.

Catchy.

A useless life
is an early death.

Morning, Dr Behr.

There is muzzle bruising.

Also, some powder burns.

Look. Weapon must have been old,

antique.

How long has she been dead?

More than a day.
Less than two.

So, in terms of opportunity?

You should widen your search

to everyone in the empire.

May I?

A little malnourished, perhaps?

No evidence of cholera.

Anything else?

Sorry.

Just observing.

Did someone put you up to this?

- What?
- There is no bullet!

See?

This is where it entered.

But...

there is no exit wound.

No sign of tampering.

No surgery.

So, what the hell happened here?

We are victims of a hoax.

Either that,

or someone has been
practicing witchcraft.

A vanishing gun.

And a...

ghost bullet.

She was some sort of mystic.

Would you mind staying silent?

Please don't touch that!

No-one knows her.
I knocked on every door. Got nothing.

I don't believe it.
It's impossible.

No-one seen going in or out. No visitors.

- What about the concierge?- Rent was paid.

Slipped under the door
every month.

Says she doesn't know her name.

I want this whole area

trawled for witnesses.

You don't sleep until
you get me a name,

you understand? Erm...?

Haussman, sir.

Haussman. Someone must
know something about her.

The weapon.
We're looking for an antique gun.

Maybe a collector,
somebody with military connections?

Do you have to do that?

What?

You're staring.

I was told I could observe you.

Where would you prefer me to look?

I'd prefer it
if you weren't here.

It was difficult to tell
that from your manner.

Remind me. Why exactly
are you here, Doctor?

I thought the Commissioner explained.

He said I was to tolerate your presence.

I'm making a study
of criminal behavior.

Really? Then why aren't you
in a laboratory somewhere,

dissecting brains?

Because the way
to study the mind

is to observe the living.

For example, a policeman,

maybe 20 years of service,

a position of seniority,

and yet, he is impatient,
he's heavy-footed,

he's slamming drawers,
eating coffee beans,

perspiring, even though it's cold in here,

forgetting the names
of his colleagues.

So, I would have to say he's
anxious to get a result.

Not anxious.

Desperate.

Maybe it's been a while
since he solved a case.

- I know, and I'm sorry.
- It's six o'clock!

It's a quarter past six.

- I ran all the way.
- You're not even changed yet.

You're going to be
horribly late.

So, did you meet with
the Police Commissioner?

Yes. He's assigned me
to a case.

A murder in Leopoldstadt. A young woman

shot through the heart.

Hardly a fit discussion
for the table!

Let's talk about
something more pleasant.

Are you seeing Clara tonight?

Yes.

I'm taking her to see
the Beethoven Frieze.

Last chance before it's sold.

Sold?

Lovely girl.

Such a sweet nature.

How are things between you two?

Oh, Mother,

you know there's no point.

Stop pushing him!

Max will do
what Max wants to do.

There.

Gosh. Yes.

The Beethoven Frieze.

Gustav Klimt. I wanted you
to see it before it's gone.

It's...

Extraordinary, don't you think?

You don't like it.

I find it frightening,
to be honest, Max.

- Almost like a nightmare. -Yes.

Images of madness.

Forbidden wishes.

I'm sorry.

You were hoping I would love it.

Painters these days,
they are no longer content

just to paint you as you are -

smiling, in your best dress,
beside a bowl of apples.

I think apples have had their day, Clara.

"To every age its art."

Would you pay more attention to me

if I were to pose for you like her?

Well, I think everyone
would pay you attention

if you were naked
on a 100ft canvas.

Then, perhaps,
I should volunteer.

Kiss me, Max.

Kiss me now.

Right here?

Yes.

We're playing a game.

Oh? What game is it this time, Clara?

It is called, "Prove to me

"that I'm more attractive

"than a painting."

Hm.

The Mayor.

Election time again.

Why don't I introduce you?

I'm no good at conversation.

Oh, Max!
What will I do with you?

- Sir.
- Thank you.

Don't touch me!

Don't...

touch me!

Don't touch me!

- Max?
- Get a carriage!

Quickly, Clara!

- I need to admit a patient. -Yes, sir.

Don't...

Please help me...

Please...

- Please stop.
- Take her over there.

Please.

Search every apartment.

- Knock on every door!

We need the victim's name!

- Open up!

This is the police!

- Knock on every door!

Do you know the name of the
woman who lived upstairs?

Do you know the woman
who lived upstairs?

Do you know the name of the
woman who lived upstairs?

You're late.
I've been waiting.

- Here.

- Ah.
- Good morning.

Oskar.

This time, you really disappointed us.

- What?
- Can't even keep a lid

on your own investigation.

You've made the front page.

Suspects?

No, sir.

Witnesses?

Not as yet.

And now the investigation is
leaking like a rusty ship.

"Killed by a specter
summoned at a seance."

How the hell did they get hold of this?

The Mayor telephoned.

We need to kill this
speculation.

The only way
is to make an arrest.

Perhaps it's too soon.

No shame in stepping aside.

Von Bulow's offered
to take over.

Just giving the case to
someone who can handle it.

No, sir.

I want to finish this.

Inspector...

I was told I could observea criminal case.

And, presumably, that means

you and I will have to be in
the same room occasionally.

Yesterday evening,
you said I seemed

anxious, impatient, desperate.

You went through
the whole dictionary.

How did you know
what I was feeling?

Do you find me unsettling, Inspector?

One or two other words spring to
mind, actually.

There's a professor
who lectures in Vienna.

He claims that anything you
wish to know about a person,

you can tell through
observation -

their clothes
or their mannerisms,

the way they hold their
pen and their coffee cup.

He teaches that human behavior is eloquent.

Our little foibles, our jokes,

even the mistakes we make,

every tiny grace note
and inflection

gives a clue as to what is
going on inside the brain.

I've become fascinated
by his work.

Though, sad to say,

his teachings aren't popular everywhere.

I studied you,
and I made a diagnosis.

Well, then, Doctor,
sorry to interrupt your lecture,

but maybe you want
to study this instead.

You're asking me to comment?

I thought I was just
an observer.

I'm asking for your help.

Either you will or you won't.

I've nothing to go on.

No-one knows the victim.

She's a blank page.

That trick that you do...

It's not a trick.

The way that you look
at people...

will you look at her,

tell me what you see,
Dr Liebermann?

Well? What do you see?

Anything?

She's dead, Inspector.

It makes primary observation difficult.

It's a stage set.

What?

Do you have any matches?

This room has been
decoratedlike a pantomime stage.

Ooh.

- No spirits.

Stage magic.

This is all an elaborate con.

Whoever killed her
knew she was a sham.

Dressed up her death

like one of her own tricks.

There's more than one
illusionist at work here.

What is it?

It's empty. Where are all the dresses?

You think that significant?

Well, if this was a stage set,

there ought to be costumes.

We need to see her again.

Why does a woman empty
her wardrobe,

dispatch all her dresses
at once?

Think! Come on.

Why am I being interrogated?

I'm supposed to be
the damned policeman!

Well, you asked me my opinion!

Yes, but I didn't know it
wasgoing to be served up this way!

Has anyone ever told you
how insufferable you are?

As it happens, about a dozen times a day.

"Take me to hell."

She made an error.
She beganby writing another word.

It says "us"
beneath the word "me".

What?

He forced her to write that under stress.

And she made
a damning admission.

Someone else was going
to die with her.

Welcome to the case, Inspector.

What is it?

We need a postmortem

on her womb.

There's your motive, Inspector.

No demons.

Just a man.

An adulterer.

Someone was about to be exposed.

Find the father of this child.
He's your killer.

Herr Liebermann.

Bruckmuller.

Ah, yes, of course.

I know you by reputation.

That's just a polite way
of saying

you've been listening to gossip.

I am flattered that

you've invited me here.

Oh, let's not be coy,
Herr Liebermann.

Political campaigns cost money.

Herr Holderlein
from the Central Bank.

I don't think we've met,
Herr...?

Liebermann.

- Oh, how do you do?
- How do you do?

And Herr Adler, the munitions manufacturer.

- How do you do?
- Pleasure to meet you.

I don't invite them
for their conversation.

Adler is intolerably dull.

But everyone here

has one redeeming feature.

I assume you are talking
about their bank accounts.

Look around you.
The Viennese elite.

We can offer status.

I doubt that the Jewish Quarter

provides much in the way
of social introductions.

You're right.

I don't know any of these men.

They have never sought
my company.

Well, as the Mayor
is fond of saying,

we decide who's a Jew and who is
not, Herr Liebermann.

Come, take a seat.

Dr Liebermann?

You haven't attended my
tutorials for over a week.

You think there is nothing
you can learn from me?

No, of course.

I'm about to give
a demonstration.

Perhaps you would do me
the courtesy?

Signora Locatelli here displays

symptoms of acute hysteria.

Hysteria is a medical condition.

One that can be swiftly
and permanently corrected.

Have you seen my dog?

Have you seen my dog?

Excuse me?

I'm Dr Liebermann.

We met.

The exhibition.

Seamstresses.

Dressmakers.

Tailors.

Anyone who might
take in alterations.

Find those dresses

and we'll find
the dead woman's name.

Now! Move!

Haussman.

- Rosa Sucher?
- Yes.

Vienna Police.
May I come in?

You run a business
as a seamstress?

That's correct.

What are you writing?

It's nothing. It's, er...

Sorry. Not my business.

This case in Leopoldstadt.

The psychopathy of a killer.

You know, I always imagined that one day

there'd be a sign above the
emporium, Liebermann and Son.

I know.

And I'm sorry...

No, no.

A doctor in the family
is a fine thing.

But?

This... new science of yours,

your chosen field of study...

- Here it comes.
- Some people

are saying it's dubious.

Who do you mean? What people?

Just chatter over luncheon.

Well, you can tell these people

that Sigmund Freud has
just been made a professor.

You know what they're calling
it?

The "disreputable" medicine.

Well, then they're as
ignorant as they are stupid.

Talking cures and hysterics,

exploring the darkness
of men's souls.

Are you really sure what
you're getting into, Max?

Is it really the career for a gentleman?

Of course, you're worried
about our reputation.

- Max...
- If I'd been a surgeon

or general practitioner,

you could have faced
your friends.

I don't want you
to make a mistake

that's going to haunt you

for the rest of your days.

You're passionate.

Always admired that.

Your mother's son.

You throw yourself

into each new thing
with enthusiasm.

But this... this is different.

You don't understand.
We are witnessing the birth

of a whole new science.

It could take you
to a very dark place.

I know you.
I've seen you before.

You smiled at me as I came in.

I'm an artist.

- A painter?
- Illusionist.

You make things disappear?

Just have to drink it

to get it out again.

I offered her six Kronen for the lot.
Five dresses.

The lady from Leopoldstadt -
she brought them round to you?

Came to my apartment a week ago.

We don't even know her name.

Fraulein Lowenstein.

Charlotte.

Charlotte Lowenstein?

Just a moment.

Miss Sucher,
how did she find you?

I'm sorry?

Well, she wanted a seamstress,

so...

Well do you advertise?

Oh, no. I knew her, sir,
already.

I see.

You were a client.

You went to her salon

to take part in a ritual, a seance.

My mother, she... she died last year.

The Fraulein,

she had an extraordinary gift.

We met together in her rooms.

- We?
- Seven of us.

- You were never seen?
- It was always late at night.

Join hands, my beloveds...

and let the host of spirits enter.

I conjure you

by the name of the Dark King

who rules over you.

Rosa, who were the others?

I don't know names,

apart from one, the man who introduced me.

Otto Braun.

Seven, including Charlotte Lowenstein.

The only people we can place in that salon.

And...

we have our first
gentleman caller.

Said she met him
in the cemetery.

He was the bait, Inspector.

Good day.
Do you know Otto Braun?

No.

Hello, sir.

Braun.

The magician?

Hmm.

Paid his bills.
Treated me alright.

What do you want with him?

We need to know
where to find him.

- Otto Braun?
- Back stairs.

Herr Braun?

Please forgive the intrusion.

I'm with the Vienna Police.

Is this an inconvenient moment?

Excuse us, madam.

It's just a normal day, then?

You said you wanted to observe.

Otto Braun?

Pleasure to make
your acquaintance.

Welcome to the case, Doctor.

Your hat!

Thank you.

Two days.

Been in all the papers.

You didn't come forward, Otto.

We've got a witness that
can put you at the cemetery.

Rosa Sucher?

Recall her, do you?

Her mother died last year.

She's laying flowers at thegrave
and you stroll up to her,

start telling her fairy tales...

about a woman with a gift,

a woman that communes
with the spirit world.

Charlotte had an accomplice,

someone pulling the strings.

We know what you do
for a living, Otto.

Your little friend told us.

You're a magician, aren't you?

You went to the cemetery

and preyed on grieving people!

How many of them did you con?

How much did you charge them?!

Look into my eyes!

It's not a crime.

I did nothing wrong!

No? Then why did you run
from us?

Why are you so scared, Otto?

Look into my eyes!

You disgust me!

I'll tell the Commissioner
we have someone in custody.

What are you staring at?

How long have you
worked at the theater?

What's that got to do with you?

I think you're playing a part.

Charlotte is dead.

I know you feel something.

I... I don't know anything.

About anything.

That's what a little boy
would say.

You've been running, hiding.

Who was she, Otto?

I need to make her acquaintance.

She...

She was abandoned

at a very young age.

Both her parents died.

I am seeing...

a woman.

She's saying...

"My love,

"stop blaming yourself.

"We have no need for goodbyes,

"I will always be by your side.

"I love you."

I needed an actress
for the seances.

I knew her from the theater.

Well...

You found a way of making money together?

Her beauty and your theatrical flair.

We were staying
at The Grand in Baden.

A lot of wealthy guests there.

One of the guests was a medium,

a psychic, attracting attention.

And that's what gave you
the idea.

Someone put a gun to her chest, Otto.

Close enough to feel
her last breath.

He was her lover.

She had men falling at her feet.

This man was different.

This man was the father
of her unborn child...

and he had a flair for illusion.

You think it was me?

You think I murdered Charlotte?!

Otto!

I don't have to put my
fist in someone's mouth

to get the truth!

People lie when they're
in a state of panic.

It's a reflex like,
like the sort that children tell.

You hurt him like that,
you'llscare him into saying anything!

I'd prefer it if you just said,
"Thank you for intervening!"

He isn't the killer!

Look at him. He's scared.

He knows something
that he's not telling!

You asked me my opinion.

Convince me.

Whoever killed
Charlotte Lowenstein,

he did it to save
his reputation.

Braun has no reputation to save.

Another man was in that room!

A man of wealth and status.

You asked me to help you
paint an image of the victim.

I can do better, Inspector.

I can paint you
an image of the killer.