Original subtitles

Krajewski, Franz, non-commissioned officer.

Buried alive on the Somme, on 8 October, admitted on the 16th.

What was your civilian occupation before the war?

A policeman, Surgeon Major.

Well then, let’s see if we can get you back on your feet.

Yes, sir.

Rath, Anno, junior doctor, buried alive on the Western Front.

A doctor, is that right?

Yes, sir, Surgeon-Major. - Who did you study under?

Professor Schmidt.

Which Schmidt?

Professor Ferdinand August Schmidt, University of Bonn, Staff Surgeon.

The ‘Sports’ Schmidt.

Yes.

You’ll never be a surgeon now.

- Suggestive therapy. - Monday, six o’clock.

And who do we have here?

Hitler, Adolf, Private,

Eye burns from a gas attack.

Eye burns here?

The ophthalmologist couldn’t find any burns.

Let me have a look.

Eye burns?

Yes, Sir. Yellow Cross.

- You’re a malingerer. - Logistics pig.

That really got you good, Private.

Thank you, Professor.

And here?

Kasabian, Edgar. Sergeant. No longer speaks.

A mute.

And?

Wosniak, Karl, Private,

Shrapnel wound, left temple, insomnia.

Consultation. First thing tomorrow morning with the colleagues.

Yes, Doctor.

Strelow, Paul, blaster,

shrapnel wound and somatoform pain disorder.

Have you seen Wosniak?

Who?

Karl Wosniak.

There he is, asleep.

Karl?

Wosniak, that old scoundrel.

Get up, there’s soup.

You’ve been drinking. That’s forbidden here.

Mind your own business.

Who are you, anyway? I’ve never seen you round here before.

I’m Marinus van der Lubbe.

I can get you something to drink.

I can get hold of anything. You can get some jenever.

Not that watered-down grain stuff like that over there.

Leave me in peace.

Fancy a taste?

You’re welcome.

I don’t know how you’ve got the idea that

I’m authorised to hand over patient records to you.

I have an official letter authorising me to inspect the records.

No, young lady, these patient records

can only be viewed by a doctor, and even

then only in justified exceptional cases.

An investigation into a murder case is an exceptional case.

That may well be.

But it must be ordered by a court.

I am undoubtedly more familiar with the law than you are.

Oh.

The Reich Chancellor’s medical records are, moreover,

a politically sensitive document.

I doubt that you’ll find a judge

who’ll approve your request.

But you could confirm the existence of such a file for me, couldn’t you?

Not me personally.

But there is, of course, a register for that.

And would you look it up for me?

Kindly.

Please?

Right, here it is.

The medical records of Private Adolf Hitler.

If I’m not mistaken, this file comprises 21 pages and has

only been borrowed three times, is that correct?

Good heavens.

I used to work in the archives, during my basic training.

So we’re almost colleagues, then.

You don’t mind if I make a note of the borrowers?

Not at all, here.

Thank you.

“Friedrich Wilhelm University Berlin, doctoral thesis.”

The same one twice?

The signature’s illegible, and then…

Strange.

Pardon?

Have a look.

“Munich Public Prosecutor’s Office, borrowed on 20 November 1924.”

Absolutely unbelievable.

“Public Prosecutor M. Dresse.”

Well, that bloke’s got some nerve.

They never returned the file.

Public Prosecutor Dresse.

In black and white. Nine years.

This card is a piece of evidence. I must confiscate it.

I’ll make a note of that and we’ll look into the matter.

So will we.

Such sloppiness must be brought to light.

Quite right.

You are listening to a broadcast of the

memorial service from Berlin Cathedral

In honour of the late SA man Paul Strelow.

Hundreds of thousands of Berliners line the city’s streets.

The funeral procession is now setting

off towards the Invalidenfriedhof.

The funeral is attended by high-ranking members of the government.

Do you want to listen to this the whole time, Mrs Elisabeth?

I’ll keep listening to it until I can believe it.

And so far, that hasn’t happened yet.

If things carry on like this between you and the radio,

I’ll have to ask you to prove your loyalty.

It’s either the radio or me.

Yes.

Has Mr Heymann turned up again?

No. - Take care of yourself.

They’ve got it in for you.

Right, I must dash off to the Reichstag.

At your service.

Good luck.

... his comrades and the leader of his followers.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Chief of Police.

I’ve just come from the state funeral for the

SA man Strelow and the police officer Hoffmann.

Goebbels delivered the eulogy, and

the Führer was also present in person.

You can see the importance the Party

leadership attaches to the Strelow case.

The case falls within my department’s remit.

The Party leadership can rely on our work.

Completely and utterly.

That is good.

Minister Göring has entrusted this to me in confidence. Here you are.

– What exactly is this?

– A list of enemies of the national uprising to be interned.

Around 10,000 in Berlin alone.

That is too many even for our resources.

Arrest the first hundred

and select a plausible number of

suspects for the Strelow murder case.

The leadership demanded a sign.

We shall send a sign. Gentlemen.

Mr Government Councillor, the

Strelow case is no longer with us.

Pardon?

It’s been handed back to the Homicide Department.

Mhm.

Same old story.

During the last round of conscription…

Mr Krajewski, please follow me.

Yes.

Come in.

– Thank you. - You’re welcome.

I asked you to come because you found this…

homeless man.

Yes, one of my former comrades.

Is that so?

Wosniak, Karl, is it? - Yes.

A soldier from the 34th

Battalion of the Bavarian Guard.

We were on the front line together.

Well then.

Wosniak isn’t the only one.

First, Lieutenant Huber disappeared in Augsburg

And now here in the capital, Strelow.

Buried with a state funeral.

Strelow, is that right?

Paul Strelow?

Yes.

How do you know all these people? - We’re veterans.

War invalids.

We served together.

Hey.

What’s your name? - Krajewski, Franz.

I don’t want to be next.

Protect me.

Please.

Excuse me for interrupting.

Government Councillor Wendt

and Detective Superintendent Gennat would like to speak to you.

Right now?

Immediately, yes.

Wait here.

There’s no getting round it;

the case must be handled by the relevant department.

It will be. By us.

We’re dealing with two murders at a single

crime scene, involving two different murder

weapons and probably two different perpetrators.

And over there sits a witness who claims that the

Strelow case is part of a whole series of murders.

But the underlying motive is political,

and as such, jurisdiction is beyond dispute.

Because you want to exploit the case for your own interests.

Would you mind repeating that, Chief Inspector?

You heard me.

Do you actually let your subordinates talk to you like that?

It’s your case, Government Councillor.

Detective Superintendent, I beg you … – Thank you, Colleague Böhm.

You heard me.

Hand over all the documents to the Government Councillor.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

You’ll take care of that.

So where is your key witness now?

Where is the man who was sitting here just a moment ago?

Ah, there he is. Now you have everything.

Thank you. - It’s unbelievable.

Ridiculous.

What’s your name? - Squad Leader Kummer, Mr …

Senior Detective Sergeant Sebald, Political Police.

As you wish, Senior Detective Sergeant.

Have you ever arrested anyone before?

No, Senior Detective Sergeant.

Well, it’s about time.

What’s the matter with Böhm?

The political police are getting involved.

Reinhold, I’ve got something here.

Will you help me look for a doctoral thesis?

The signature’s hard to make out.

Searching, yes. Reading, no.

You’re a gem.

Ladies and gentlemen, please calm down!

Mr President of the Reichstag, please!

Tell your parliamentary group to keep quiet!

Please keep quiet!

Ladies and gentlemen!

The new government forces have today attempted to,

to shamelessly exploit a murder for political gain.

We will stand up to such underhand tactics with the

voice of the people and their will, and we will gather.

Tomorrow at midday, between the Cathedral and the Palace.

And there will be more of us.

Far more.

And we shall show the world that

the majority of Berliners,

indeed, the majority of all Germans …

Mr Chairman, you are misusing

Parliament for the sake of pure agitation.

There is no place for such behaviour in this honourable House!

These words from your mouth, Mr President of the

Reichstag, are, with all due respect, the bitterest satire.

Excuse me.

And?

How are things with you? – Wels is talking non-stop.

Or whatever you’re supposed to call that racket down there.

Have you heard anything from Heymann? - Nothing.

Dozens were arrested yesterday.

No one knows where they’re being taken.

These are facts that have nothing to do with agitation and

which need to be made clear to the public!

MP Wels, please control yourself!

Otherwise I shall withdraw your right to speak!

Tomorrow at midday we shall see who

truly speaks with the voice of the people.

Bravo!

Bravo.

It’s enough to drive one to despair.

There.

There comes your man.

Ah, MP Thälmann.

It’s good that you’ve found the time.

I know Wels; you can have a proper chat with that man.

It seems to me that the Communists are the bigger challenge.

You might be right about that.

Mr President of the Reichstag!

On behalf of the Social Democrats, I move

the expulsion of the National Socialist faction.

And the Communists too!

Their behaviour is unworthy of this House!

Rejected!

Bottom drawer! That’s simply not on!

Instructions from the director: switch over, I’ll take over.

Find something musical. – Pardon?

Luigi Bernauer.

Dear listeners at your receivers.

Unpredictability is an inherent

feature of our new medium.

We therefore ask you to excuse

any occasional disruptions.

Next, a midday greeting from our

orchestra to all Berliners.

Luigi Bernauer.

Enjoy your meal. Enjoy your meal.

So? What does Forster’s diary say?

We’re checking every institution

the doctor was connected with.

Here.

So? - Meal. Nothing doing.

Do you know how many PhDs were awarded

at the Faculty of Medicine in 1923/24?

Countless.

So far, there’s no match for

the signature on the index card.

They’ve even got ‘Picker’ today.

Pardon? - ‘Dätscher’.

He means potato pancakes.

Oh, potato pancakes.

Yes, lovely. With apple sauce. - Have you seen?

They’ve got pancakes.

You won’t believe where I’ve just been.

The world is a colourful place. Very colourful.

I’ve just come from the Institute for Sexology.

Hirschfeld’s?

That’s quite a crowd, I can tell you.

And this Dr Forster, he’s well known there.

So, what’ll it be?

- The… - The dish of the day, the one at the top, please.

For everyone? - Yes.

‘Reiberdatschi’ four times – coming straight away. - Very good.

What did Hirschfeld have to do with Forster?

He wrote expert reports for Dr Hirschfeld.

What sort of expert reports?

Psychological or psychiatric ones. Mostly before ‘adjustments’.

I see, ‘adjustments’?

Transformations or something like that.

When something’s not quite right with

someone, up in their head, I suppose.

Could you be a bit more specific?

This Dr Forster, he…

wrote something down about his patients.

That’s required by law.

So he was an expert witness for the institute?

Yes, exactly. An expert witness.

Ah, here comes the food.

Thank you. Thank you.

Aren’t you feeling peckish?

Reinhold, what…?

Professor Forster has…

written expert reports for people who want to change their gender.

What?

How do you know that?

My name was in Forster’s diary.

I had an appointment with him.

I saw him and called the police.

And I tore that page out of his diary.

Now it’s out in the open.

But why?

Professor Forster was supposed to write an expert report for me.

You want to… I want to…

become a woman.

Yes.

And is that possible?

It’s…

It’s not without risk, but it’s possible.

I know two women myself who’ve

been living like that for some time.

But why?

Charlotte, you don’t do something like that

for fun or just so the dress fits me better.

I want this so that I can carry on living.

Yes, now you know.

You can report me to the Buddha, of course.

It’s all gone anyway.

Forster’s gone, Hirschfeld’s in Switzerland.

Reinhold.

Nothing’s gone. Not a thing. Certainly not for us.

And as for that daft website, I reckon,

it might as well stay gone.

Yes.

Exactly.

And we’ll even carry on looking for it.

- Of course. - Naturally.

With great zeal. - As much as possible.

You do realise, if

anyone takes us out…

Gereon’s father is, after all, the Chief of Police in Cologne.

Perhaps you could just have a go with him.

As you wish, Senior Detective Sergeant.

What?

Where are those officers off to?

I don’t see what that’s got to do with you.

It’s very much my business.

There are arrests to be made, which those officers will be carrying out.

For legal reasons, the auxiliary police are still

obliged to take officers with them when making arrests.

You are those officers.

He isn’t our superior.

But Councillor Wendt is.

Right, let’s get going, as agreed.

Or shall I report you for refusing to carry out your duties?

Are we off yet?

- Come on. - Hey.

Here, 32 Mandel, Doctor.

Two flights of stairs, on the left.

We’re taking the man out.

Understood?

Understood?

‘Urgent appeal.’

‘SPD and KPD joining forces for this election campaign.’

Let’s go, mate.

Henning, Berlin Criminal Investigation Department. Name?

Brock.

You’re suspected of having been

involved in the murder of SA member

Paul Strelow on the night of 30–31 January.

What, you lot too?

Is the Criminal Investigation Department really getting involved in all this rubbish?

Is that what you’re here for?

You’re police officers, for goodness’ sake!

You’ve sworn an oath to uphold the Constitution.

Get in there!

Shut up.

Cologne Police Headquarters here, how can I help you?

Detective Inspector

Ritter, Division A, Berlin Police Headquarters.

Please put me through to Chief Constable Engelberth Rath.

Is this an official call?

Yes, this is an official call.

Yes, what is it?

Put me through.

Yes, hello, Detective Inspector Ritter speaking.

I’m listening.

It’s about your son, Inspector Gereon Rath.

He was last seen on 30 January at around 9 pm

during an operation whilst accompanying a murder suspect.

Since then, there’s been no trace of him.

What is your question, Miss?

Have you heard anything from him?

No.

Not for years.

Goodbye.

A Miss Ritter from Berlin.

She seems to miss you.

Miss Ritter, this is for you.

For you.

Thank you.

Dear Colleague, Prosecutor Dresse is apparently

now Director at the Munich Regional Court.

They were unwilling to comment to me on the

whereabouts of the file in question.

Perhaps you’ll have better luck.

Yours faithfully, Grundmann, Military Archivist.

Munich Criminal Court.

Berlin Police Headquarters, Inspection A, Inspector Ritter.

I’d like to speak to Director Dresse.

No, Director Dresse is no longer in post.

Oh, really?

He requested temporary

retirement a week ago.

And this request was granted with immediate effect.

Just a week ago?

Yes, we’re all a bit surprised, Miss.

And …

could you perhaps give me his address?

You’ll need to submit a written request for that.

I see. Yes, goodbye.

I’ll do that. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Yes? Miss Ritter? It’s Böhm here.

Mr Böhm?

It may come as a surprise to you, but we need to meet.

On business.

Where? At the Colonnades. Right now.

Mr Böhm?

Why are we meeting here?

I had to make sure that this conversation remains between us.

As you may have heard, the

Political Department has taken my case back.

I’ve heard that, yes.

I’m a bit old-fashioned, but I won’t stand for these cover-ups

Wendt and his men cannot cover it up.

What do you want from me now?

There is a link between our two cases.

What link is that supposed to be?

The woman found dead in the

surgery, Sibylle Nachtwey, and the police

constable Hoffmann were both strangled with a wire rope.

The same way the rope was coiled; the photos prove it.

If there’s a connection between Nachtwey and

the police officer, then there’s also one

between your Dr Forster and the SA man Strelow.

This morning, a witness came to see me,

who believes there is a link to another death.

We’ve got a head start.

The Political Police know nothing of these connections.

Not yet, anyway.

I’m counting on you to tell me everything about Forster.

Everything that would be relevant to my case.

You want us to work together?

If it were up to me, you could be working for the hygiene

department or be in charge of monitoring green spaces in Szczecin.

The fact is, chance has washed you up with

Gennat in the Homicide Department at Alexanderplatz.

And that, although I’d hoped to have got rid of you …

How do I know I can rely on you?

I’ve told you everything I know.

If it comes out that I’m

still investigating, I’m finished.

That’s why I need your help.

Right.

I’ll go round all of Strelow’s offices.

I’ll get hold of a car and have a look around his circle.

Comrade.

Is this the KPD headquarters?

The district headquarters, yes.

I need to see the manager.

Who’s that? - It’s Völcker; she’s inside.

Right, take me there, please.

What’s that you’ve got there?

I used to be a bricklayer.

I got slaked lime in my eye.

Comrades, I’ve come all the way from Holland

to deliver an important message to you.

We must stop talking, we must act.

Our hope lies in action.

Capitalism cannot be fought

in the shadow of fascism.

Comrade, who sent you?

I am a messenger from the Communist Party of

Leiden, South Holland, sent on my own initiative,

and my message is that, together, we must send a clear signal.

The enemy wants to rule in Berlin.

Let’s attack the bigwigs.

Let’s destroy the parliaments. Let’s burn them down.

Excuse me, we’ve got work to do here.

I’m not quite ready yet… But there’s…

Right, off you go now. - Let me go.

- It’s all right. - Let me go!

Some fresh air will do you good.

Let me go!

Right, now get lost.

You’ll talk and talk and talk, and

then suddenly… it’ll be too late!

Action! Action!

That’s what we have to do!

You’ve got good ideas, comrade!

But they won’t understand them.

Come with me.

Where to?

I’ll treat you to a meal, a hot one.

Come on.

Mrs Strelow?

Good afternoon. Gerlinde Sturm, NSDAP Widows’ and Orphans’ Welfare.

Do you have a moment for me? Nah.

Your party has his blood on its hands.

Now you want to come with all your state fanfare

and make a hero out of him as well.

If that’s the case,

then I might as well speak my mind to you.

The Nazis, they can go to hell.

I’m here because my fiancé has gone missing.

And the last person

to ask about him was your son.

I haven’t seen my son for years.

That’s him – engagement photos.

His name is Gereon. Gereon Rath.

Are you Gereon’s fiancée?

Do you know him?

Indeed I do. He was just here the other day.

He came to collect something for my son.

And when was that?

Well, when that loudmouth became Chancellor.

I remember the day.

I just don’t know what he came to collect.

But I do.

Explosives. In a cognac box.

Why don’t you just say straight away that you know what’s going on?

Well then, you’d better keep a close eye on your Gereon.

Don’t let anything happen to him as well.

He used to be a bomb disposal expert, my son.

And what’s Gereon got to do with this?

I thought you knew?

No, not about that.

And what’s this for?

I don’t know.

Now get out of here!

Good afternoon, Mrs Strelow.

Come in.

Mr Heymann didn’t happen to leave a message, did he?

No, not with me.

And how did your two party leaders react, then?

With Ernst Thälmann, it took a while before they let me in.

I hadn’t even outlined my idea when he cut me off.

Please, just listen to me. – They’re born traitors.

I said ‘no’!

He wouldn’t listen.

And what about you?

Much the same.

Thälmann just wants to make a show of me.

I held out my hand to him, but got nothing in return.

MP Wels … - Oh, for goodness’ sake.

The hurt runs too deep; these top dogs don’t

trust one another, and their parties even less.

No one understands the gravity of the situation.

Well then, Mrs Elisabeth, your soup— it’s pure comfort food.

Excellent.

So, if I’ve understood you correctly, an electoral

alliance between the two left-wing parties is the

last chance to prevent Hitler from winning the election.

Correct. - Yes.

But the party leaders of both parties are sticking

to their past positions, without realising that

they need to take a step back from their usual stance.

Correct. - Yes.

Then you’ll have to speak to other people within the parties.

Who? - Who?

The women.

Mr Katelbach. - What?

Let’s be honest, Ms Behnke.

Women? - Women, yes.

Who else would be in a position

to move beyond the shadows of the past

To take a clear-eyed view of the future?

Or was it down to the two of you that you were rebuffed so brusquely?

Us? - No, not in the slightest …

Who could such a woman be?

One who would be respected by both Communists and Social Democrats?

The embodiment of a united Left?

A social-democratic communist?

Or a communist social democrat?

Like Tussy Marx. Karl’s daughter.

Not bad: ‘Red Nobility’, a good start.

It’s just a pity that Tussy’s dead.

But someone along those lines, young, but not too young.

With a certain, intellectual sensuality.

Yes, aloof yet approachable. – Moderate, yet still radical.

Yes, yes, yes.

I suggest: a real-life Luxemburg.

Clara Luxemburg. – I don’t know her.

Does she exist? – No. But she might.

The long-lost sister.

The youngest of the five Luxemburg children.

Oh, no. Oh my God. The baby of the family.

Straight from lovely Zamość.

Clara.

She can do it. No one else can.

Clara Luxemburg, then.

I went to the dance marathon once.

I collapsed just before the end.

I want to take part again next year. Will you join in?

Anyone can dance.

Not if you’ve got two left feet. - Let me have a look.

It’s no use with me.

It’ll be fine. I’ll manage.

If you... if you say so.

I do.

Well, shall we just go to the cinema instead?

What on earth are you…

What sort of person are you?

What do you mean?

I need to know, before we go to the cinema.

That’s usually just the start of something, isn’t it?

What can I say?

An ex-communist trying to

stay a good person in bad times.

A good start.

The ex-communist? – The reasonably good person.

Carry on.

No, your turn now.

I’m a socialist too.

Oh really? – Yes. A National Socialist.

Oh.

Don’t worry. We both want the same thing.

I don’t think so.

Yes, we do – that ordinary people have a say again.

Hmm.

Come on, what do you want to know?

You can dance.

Politically, you’re all over the place.

Generally very friendly.

And very attractive, too.

Those aren’t questions.

You’re right.

It’s just that I can’t think of a question.

So, to what do I owe the honour?

Your old inspector?

Has he still not turned up?

Has he been telling nothing but lies again?

Quite so.

Thank you.

You’re falling for their tricks.

The good ones fall for their tricks. Always.

That’s just the way nature intended it.

What do you know about nature? More than you, my friend.

I’m telling you, one fine day you’ll think:

Jacky...

...that would have been the one.

Yeah, but then what? Then it’ll be too late.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Glad you’re here.

Reinhold. I’d hoped you’d be here.

You know me.

Jacky. - Good evening.

I wanted to say thank you.

Fancy a dance?

Sure.

“Rosa Luxemburg was aware of her Polish-Jewish

heritage, but did not want to be reduced to it.”

Reduced …

“Her struggle was full of passion, both politically and in her private life.

A modern woman and a lover who

courageously accepted the possibility of failure.

She always held her political convictions to the highest standard …”

Are you still awake?

Sorry, did I wake you up? - No.

I can’t sleep anyway.

After everything that’s happened over the

last few days, I’m feeling rather gloomy.

Maybe we should pack up and head to Vienna.

What am I supposed to do in Vienna?

Well, it is my home town, after all.

Half my family lives there.

There’s also the world’s biggest cemetery. So: nothing but advantages.

And then?

Then …

we’ll get married there.

I’m telling you: nothing but advantages.

You’ll get an Austrian passport.

And if things get worse here, then we’ll go on a trip.

Where to? - Hmm.

Wherever you want, Elisabeth, I’ll follow you.

Prague, Rome, London, Budapest.

- Zanzibar?

Zanzibar?

What shall we do there?

They say on the radio that you can swim

in the sea there as if it were a bath.

Swim in the sea?

I’m a Jew, sitting in a café.

I don’t swim in the sea. The fish swim in the sea.

Or does the fish sit in the café?

And what are we supposed to live on?

Well, I’m writing about our journey.

Is that possible, just like that?

Egon Kisch does exactly the same and makes a good living from it.

You just have to look at the world with an alert mind and a keen eye.

Mr Böhm?

Oh dear.

At last.

I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.

What are you doing here, anyway?

I was at Strelow’s last place of work.

You might find this interesting.

Come along. On a personal level, too.

Yes, please?

Hello.

Blimey.

What happened?

I thought … – Haven’t heard anything yet?

I need electricity and a wall.

I got that from the Institute for Suggestive Therapy.

Apparently Strelow’s last place of work.

That one there.

He was here to see me today, Franz Krajewski.

And that one there—that’s Strelow.

He spent years at this institute.

First as a patient, later as a caretaker.

Then he joined the SA.

But wait.

Now.

Gereon.

I confiscated the material immediately.

Where is this institute?

JWD.

Out in Johannisthal.

And who’s that?

Come in.

Take a seat, Miss Ritter.