Original subtitles

He seems very attached.

I've become quite fond of him.

I have heard no end of complaints about this woman

and her investigative methods.

She stood right in front of me and I didn't even see her.

You said she was involved with the Dusters with Goo Goo.

You know I'd do anything for you.

I don't want any baby.

I want my baby.

- It's Sara. She's found Libby Hatch.

She's following her.

Drop the gun.

Sara!

Libby.

Libby's gone.

You were brave today.

Sara.

In my mind, it was easy enough to tell you how I felt,

what this has meant, but...

but words fail me.

All I want is to be worthy of you, Sara.

You are engaged to be married, John.

It's just not that simple.

It could be.

- Hey, lady. What the hell are you doing?

That's for the horses.

I lost my baby.

Well, she ain't in there, lady.

She was stolen from me!

- Come on. - Come on.

There.

He was more interested in going on capers with her

than with spending any time at all with me.

It's only getting worse.

Violet, please. Sit.

Whatever my issues with Mr. Moore,

I know that he cares deeply for you,

that he loves you.

And remember,

it is you who is to become Mrs. John Schuyler Moore,

not Miss Howard.

Have you seen how he gazes at her?

How he leaps out of his chair when she enters a room?

How he laughs and hangs on her every word?

It's so unbecoming.

Why does he endlessly consort with her?

Will she be as my mother was to you?

Papa, I understand the ways of men of your standing,

but John and I haven't even begun a life together.

I promise you I will bring Mr. Moore to heel.

I will not let you suffer.

As your wife has?

And my mother has?

Sometimes,

it's as though the whole of New York whispers as I pass by.

"There goes that poor, unwanted, misbegotten thing."

Oh, Violet. My girl.

You are so dear to me.

If their friendship is painful to you,

then I will put a swift end to it.

And you might be pleased to know that, uh,

Miss Howard's unusual lifestyle

has brought about some unflattering publicity.

And will continue to do so.

I've been thinking.

Yes?

Where did Libby keep the babies?

What?

Think about it.

She worked as a nurse,

she didn't bring them to the hospital,

so where were they?

I don't know. Sara...

There were no diapers in that room, no bottles,

no infant food, nowhere for the baby to sleep.

It was not set up as a nursery.

She must've kept them elsewhere,

somewhere we have yet to uncover.

This is not over, John.

Violet has a key, but she wouldn't just...

Open up, Mr. Moore!

Bitsy, please.

Will you have a little decency

and not pound on my door first thing in the morning

like some persistent woodpecker!

I don't think Miss Sara will be too pleased with this.

What is it?

I'm sorry, Sara.

Hearst's rag.

He's making this personal.

- Byrnes had a hand in that. - I would not be surprised.

It does, however, mention that you found the Linares child.

Even Hearst can't take that away from you.

But the result is quite the opposite.

We've been taking calls since 8:00 this morning.

- Calls? - For new cases.

Seeing if you're available to take on work.

We need you at the office, Sara.

We're not done with Libby Hatch.

We've missed something.

- You found the Linares baby. The job's done.

She slipped through my fingers, Bitsy.

If she strikes again,

I'll never be able to shed the guilt.

That's the best I can do, Libby.

You don't need no doctor.

If you want, we can go out. Do something fun.

No.

You're just missing the little one, ain't you?

So maybe we get you a better one.

The one you was eyeing?

Make you feel better.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Where's Paulie?

Paulie?

Paulie!

Stevie!

Cut him down.

Paulie, Paulie, Paulie!

It's me.

- Of course. Get the children back inside.

Your presence is not required, Captain Doyle.

Well,

I'd say the circumstances would suggest otherwise.

It was an accident, nothing more.

Boy hangs himself in your care?

Now, that's negligence at best.

And at worst, well,

that's for us to uncover.

Crime scene under active investigation.

I'm part of that investigation, officer.

Oh, I've seen your name and face in the papers, miss,

but you're not on my list.

We've checked the whole house. There's no sign of her.

Isaacson!

Is there anything to suggest

that's where she kept the victims when she was away?

Isaacson, they're calling for you upstairs.

Thank you, officer.

We'll report back later.

If not here, then where?

She had to have cared for the babies somewhere.

Perhaps there is more here than meets the eye.

After all, it is owned by Goo Goo Knox.

We should go in.

Oh, my God.

She kept them caged.

Sara.

- Are they all dead? - Yes.

This one is Martha Napp's.

Who are the others?

Other victims, I suppose.

And this seems to be set up for another portrait.

For baby Anna.

Looks like we found her just in time.

- This belongs to her. - She stole it from the house.

Meaning the night she broke in to take the child

was probably not the first time she'd been there.

It's so frightening to imagine her

in the consulate at night,

like a phantom watching them.

I'll go get Marcus and Lucius.

You had expectations of me, Paulie.

Fair ones.

I got caught up in this case...

a matter of confounding urgency that...

overtook me, and then...

I'm sorry, Paulie.

Magic was the one thing I sensed could reunite.

Paulie's pre-traumatized, childish, joyful self,

with the anxious, troubled, young man he was becoming.

I thought it would permit him

to feel this lack of understanding as a wonder,

not another source of fear.

And you succeeded.

Perhaps too well.

He began living in the wonder and neglecting what's real.

I weaved for him a fiction

no different than the one Libby Hatch has created for herself.

No, you're simply looking for ways to punish yourself.

Truth is, Laszlo, you did help him.

You helped him to look ahead,

and I might argue that it is the absence of wonder

that molds a child into a person like Libby hatch.

You might take some time to look ahead for yourself.

Grandiosity and self-doubt are...

Fatal.

They can be.

I need to get back to the Institute.

The police are bringing a medical expert to see if I...

If I'm competent to be its director.

Looks like something

Stevenson or Shelley might conjure up.

Everything about this is disturbing.

It's Libby who is disturbed and growing more so by the day.

I'd rather not imagine what else she's capable of.

Memory boxes, if I'm correct, Marcus.

Each containing mementos from the infant's earliest days.

Some are what the child wore in death.

Baby's hair.

It's called a mourning brooch.

From an earlier infanticide, I suspect, given the contents.

Laszlo needs to see this.

I'm curious as to why he's not in his office.

I have called him several times.

Do you recognize this, John?

It's a family crest of some sort.

I don't know whose it is.

She's gone.

She's gone, Goo Goo.

I know, I know.

We'll make everything better.

I promise.

I'm sore.

We're gonna be happy, Goo Goo.

We're gonna be happy.

As a representative

for the Board for the New York City Medical Institutions,

I'm hereby informing you

that this institute is now under investigation.

For?

Possible criminal negligence in the treatment of minors.

Will you be bringing your objectivity

to this investigation, Markoe?

You, Dr. Kreizler,

are suspended by the state from practicing medicine,

advising professionally in your capacity as an alienist,

until the board completes its investigation.

Paulie is a complex patient,

and you are deliberately mischaracterizing

what has caused his injury.

To deliver him to a doctor like you

could do irreparable harm to the boy.

A boy in your care tried to strangle himself in your office

and you're lecturing me about doing harm?

It is my judgment

that it wasn't an instance of suicidal ideation.

Oh, so you have no concern about the boy?

I did not say that.

I am concerned.

Well, that matter's been decided.

You'll have your chance to appeal.

Of course, you know how difficult it is

to gather the board in the summertime,

what with everyone away.

Still,

plenty of time to contemplate your panoply of failings.

How can they do this?

This is nonsense.

You have a history of championing those

who cannot care for themselves.

Surely, you can make an appeal.

There's no laboratory test

to prove the soundness of my judgment,

nor the safety of my clinical methods.

Well, if there's anything I can do.

You should not have to shoulder this burden alone.

I haven't.

I didn't.

There is someone who has been a consolation to me.

Someone?

- A woman. - Oh.

Not quite.

She's a formidable woman, a professor of psychology.

Karen Stratton.

She's given me great counsel.

- A kindred spirit. - Perhaps.

Yes, I think she is.

I'm happy for you, Laszlo,

that you found such an agreeable companion.

And that John has, too.

Indeed.

- I'm sorry, V. It's been a strange day.

There is something I would like to speak with you about

which is troubling me.

Well, that can't stand, can it?

I won't let you be troubled when you're with me.

It's not permitted.

Please, look at me.

You know I love you, don't you?

Of course.

Then you know that is no easy feat for someone like me,

for someone whose family she's not allowed to acknowledge,

who's always aware of the whispers

when she enters a room,

who's never had a place or a name to call her own.

And this is why I cannot wait

to be announced as Mr. John Schuyler Moore

on our big day.

In belonging to you, I will finally belong.

You can open your eyes now, Goo Goo.

What do you think?

Wow.

You look beautiful.

Like a lady.

Like a proper high society lady.

Find any acorns in your stack?

Nothing yet.

My God.

Look.

Vanderbilt.

Do you think we should warn them?

We're closed.

We ain't here for the swill today.

You brought them around here.

Snoopin', messing with Goo Goo's girl,

taking what ain't yours.

Nothing to say now, huh?

I'd like you to leave.

You get the hell out of here!

Ah, the main man.

We were just telling your girl here...

I ain't gonna tell you again.

We were just leaving.

Huh? You okay?

Mm.

You can cross off the Roald Vanderbilts

as they have moved to France.

Done.

Frederick and his family have been in Newport

for a month already.

Sara, there's a very fancy carriage outside.

One of the footmen said to give you this.

He says you are to come right away.

Oh, dear.

We're too late.

- Thank you for coming. Alice is distraught, of course.

We just received a telegram from my son

asking after his boy.

I'm honored that you'd ask for me, Cornelius.

I want your reporters to keep a lookout for my grandson.

They have leads, informers, don't they?

Yes, yes, we get to the underbelly of this city.

- No one must know, of course. - Obviously.

I hired every damn Pinkerton in the city.

We don't want the New York Police Department

and the phony ransom notes that come with publicity,

and I don't want my son to know yet.

Somewhere in the Mediterranean.

Left that child with us for... for one lousy month.

What do you know about her?

I'm not sure you want another party on this search, sir.

It will dilute our efforts

and perhaps bring unwanted notoriety to the case.

She's a renegade, a man in a corset.

She's a bored society girl who dabbles.

Well, I want to find out for myself.

Miss Howard is on her way here.

A slip of a girl can't roam these streets, or these.

You wouldn't let your own daughter

go anywhere near that place, would you?

Funny, I've just come from those streets.

Assuming I'm the "slip of a girl"

you're referring to, Mr. Byrnes?

Sara Howard, Mr. Vanderbilt.

- Mr. Hearst. - Miss Howard.

So good to finally meet you.

Your exploits have been wonderful for our circulation.

My grandson's been kidnapped.

- I know. - How?

The Linares case just wasn't over for me,

not when I let Miss Hatch escape.

She had a secret room where she kept the child,

and I went back and I found it.

And I also found these.

These items, they're our crest.

Miss Hatch clearly had some design on your family.

She kept this jewelry box and hairbrush in her lair.

Miss Hatch stockpiled personal items

from the Linares family as well,

which suggested that her collection of keepsakes

indicated malicious intent towards certain families,

including your own, Mr. Vanderbilt.

I will take on your case.

I do have some conditions, however.

Oh, now the caveats come out.

Dr. Laszlo Kreizler was suspended

from practicing alienism

as the result of an unfortunate accident.

The police are investigating some negligence

at the, uh... Go on, Miss Howard.

Dr. Kreizler is most crucial

to the investigations that I conduct.

He has insights into the criminal psyche

that are invaluable.

Abstractions and hypotheses.

Kreizler meddles, sir, for his own purposes.

He helped you get that Spanish baby back.

I could not have done it without him.

- Hmm. - I'll need him reinstated

in order to legally join my team.

There was another condition?

It involves the ex-commissioner.

I am the lead detective on this case.

I do not work for Mr. Byrnes; Mr. Byrnes works for me

and will follow my directives at all times.

I have 30 years' more experience.

You didn't find the secret room or retrieve its contents,

did you?

That's agreed.

And you're hired.

Thank you, Mr. Vanderbilt.

Laszlo.

How is the child?

He says he was trying to emulate Houdini,

but I suspect otherwise.

But I assume it was a desperate plea for affection.

- I failed him. - You did not fail him.

You did everything you could for him.

Paulie does not yet know the Institute is closed.

Where will he go, should it not be reopened?

I fear he will be sent to an orphanage.

Well, there's only one thing for it, then.

It is an exercise in futility, Sara.

Even your Mr. Vanderbilt does not have the power

to overturn the state board without quorum.

Do not abandon hope, Laszlo.

Help me find the Vanderbilt child and Libby Hatch.

And not only will we find them,

but I promise you I will hold Vanderbilt to his word.

The Institute will be reopened.

Let us begin with what we know.

- Libby Hatch. Question is, who is she?

Who is she, and where is she from?

I perceived, when we first met, a bond of kinship,

as if were it not for the circumstances,

we would've been friends.

You liked her?

Why?

She was vulnerable.

Her manner apprehensive, her actions tentative.

Yet there was an intelligence there.

She wanted me to know her.

And yet, she deceived me.

Liars are like magicians.

We are deceived by what we see, what we are told,

but beneath the sleight-of-hand,

there's still a simple trick.

I fail to see the comparison.

I believe what Laszlo means is that

good liars and con artists can make us believe them.

They combine the unalloyed truth with the falsehoods,

something they believe themselves.

Libby might well have told you a truth about who she is.

Because you see, Sara,

unquestionably, the bond you felt for her,

in her mind, was genuine.

So something she said must've been the truth.

Her father.

There was a moment when

she saw the photograph of my father in my pocket watch.

She asked me who it was.

Is that your boyfriend?

No, no. It's my father.

And I don't know why, but...

something about her, her look, I... I'm not sure,

but something made me confess to her how he had died.

He had an accident with a gun.

What did she tell you in return?

She told me of her own father.

I know about that sort of thing.

M-my father, he...

He had a accident, too.

With him, it was a rope over a bridge.

This is very significant, Sara.

Such a public act would doubtless have been reported.

We find out who the father is, we find out who Libby is

and maybe where she's gone.

But I think the "New York Times" archives

might have that information.

Sara,

if you have no prior engagements,

a spare pair of hands would be very much appreciated.

Good day.

There was something else I saw

when I followed Libby that night.

I hadn't mentioned it before,

because we had already found Anna Linares.

What was it?

I observed from afar Libby and Goo Goo Knox.

She appeared to be nursing him.

He was feeding from her, and yet it also seemed carnal.

Lactophilia.

It's most curious.

It is a fascinating case.

What disturbs you about this one?

Well, it's an unexpected fetish

for a woman who uses her breasts as deliverers of death.

A dramatic turn of phrase

for something I might argue might not be a fetish at all.

You wouldn't consider this behavior a deviation?

I am surprised to hear such an argument.

From a woman.

The most recent studies suggest

a fetish is a means by which a man reduces a woman

to a fraction of herself,

experiencing sexual gratification.

The fetish is pleasurable because it partializes a woman

and thereby renders her non-threatening.

Has that been your experience?

Sorry?

If your gaze were attracted by a shapely bosom,

do you forget about the woman to whom these parts belong?

Have you forgotten all of me when you see my ankle?

I don't categorize myself

among the sufferers of this pathology.

Perhaps this type of attraction

is not the pathology at all,

and perhaps a woman might enjoy her part in such a ritual.

With adult males, a woman's breasts are life-affirming.

She doesn't use them in this context;

She puts them in a position to respond to pleasure.

Breasts are erogenous zones.

I'm aware of that, of course.

But the public nature of it?

It's interesting, I agree.

I served this city as a police officer.

I served the interests of upstanding citizens

like yourself.

I will not have my career devalued by a dilettante.

- She is a pox upon all of us. On that, we can agree.

But the world works on a system of patronage, Byrnes,

and Vanderbilt sits at the top of the heap.

Like it or not, you need his favor just as I do.

I will not take orders from her.

Well, whether or not you do is your prerogative.

But...

if I were you, I'd see this as an opportunity

to show the upstanding citizens of New York

exactly where they should put their stock.

This... is '81 to '82.

Could this be her?

"He is survived by his wife, Mallory Hunter,

and his daughter, Elspeth Hunter, of Brooklyn."

E.H.

Same initials as the doll buyer at Siegel-Cooper.

- Elspeth Hunter. - This really could be her.

And where would Elspeth Hunter go

if she was hunted by the New York Police Department?

Somewhere out of their jurisdiction.

Somewhere familiar where she could hide away.

Or knows someone who'd be willing to hide her.

Look.

Look at the little sucking motions

he makes when he sleeps.

He's thinking of his mom.

I hope he and I don't come to blows.

I ain't losing out to the likes of you, you little beggar.

What?

Show some respect.

Get to packing.

They're gonna be looking for us.

Aww.

- Where are we going? - I know somewhere we can go.

Miss Hatch has so far operated

within a very narrow geographical area,

returning time and again to the same spots.

We have taken all those spots from her.

Her home, her workplace, her hiding places.

And Mr. Byrnes is...

We have all of Manhattan under surveillance

for you, sir.

Mm.

She hails from Brooklyn, which is our next port of call.

And how will chasing her roots recover my grandson?

Fleeing Manhattan is the logical next step for her.

She's been deprived of most other options.

Let's go.

Her mind will steer her to the next familiar place.

Which is Brooklyn.

- We will find your grandson. I'm quite certain of it.

Where are you going?

Sun's gonna be up before you know it.

I just... I wanna show him.

Oh, Christ.

Remember that girl stepped straight off the roof

thinking she was headed to the toilets.

I'm not sleepwalking, fool.

- Hey, would you knock it off? - In a minute.

People are trying to sleep here, lady.

Oh.

You see, my handsome boy? Isn't she beautiful?

Huh?

It took a lot of very brave men to build that bridge.

The bigger that bridge got,

they just felt smaller and smaller.

Most nooses usually strangle a man.

Not my papa.

His neck snapped right in two.

That's right, little boy.

One minute you're here, and then...

And then... and then snap.

You're dead.

Right in the blink of an eye.