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What is it, what is it?

- Where is my baby? - What are you on about?

- No, my baby, she's... - Your baby is fine.

- No, my baby's... - Now calm down.

- No, my baby's... - Now calm down.

- She's fine. - No, no, no, no!

No, no, no, no, no...

Stop it!

- Stop! - No!

No, no, no, no!

Dr. Markoe! Please, where is my baby?

You know I know what happens here!

I'll call the police!

Let me see her!

No, no! My baby!

Dr. Kreizler.

Come to free the sinners?

According to your Bible, aren't we all sinners?

In my book,

butchering your own child is a crime against God and man.

Despite your polished shoes

and shiny buttons, deputy warden,

I do not believe your uniform

gives you the right to pass sentence.

Slow down!

Whoa!

- I'm sorry. Please hurry. - Watch where you're going!

I can still find her smell.

It's faint now, but it's still there.

What are they calling me?

Are they calling me a monster, Dr. Kreizler?

You are not a monster, Martha.

It is the world that is monstrous.

Good morning, Mrs. Schermerhorn.

I'm here to see Miss Howard

to receive an update on my case.

Milly?

Milly!

What is all the racket?

Quick, Ida. All hands on deck.

You take the back stairs.

Milly will lead you through to Miss Howard,

Mrs. Schmerhorn.

Thank you, Ida.

Why is Mrs. Schmerhorn here today?

She got the dates mixed up.

Milly's asking after her dogs,

trying to keep her occupied.

Today, of all bloody days?

A woman is to be put to her death.

We have no time for this.

They look good.

I feel positively entombed in here.

Well, it was out of order yesterday,

but it was supposed to be fixed.

What progress can we report?

We did a full inventory of her silverware.

None of the servants is stealin' from her.

Oh, you got a smudge.

- The elevator's broke again. - She left in a huff.

- Thank God for small mercies. - Milly, get the banners.

The carriage is ready, Miss Sara.

Thank you, Ida.

- Delmonico's, please. - Yes, ma'am.

Kreizler feels there's a fair chance of reprieve,

but if we could use your good graces to...

Y... I understand,

but a woman's life is at stake, TR.

Whatever you can do.

Thank you, Teddy.

Talcum is the talk of the town.

That's your leaving face.

Must you?

It's an important day, V.

An important story.

I know.

Your words will make a difference.

I wish you would work with my fa...

My godfather.

Your hours would be your own at the "Journal."

I think you mean my hours would be yours.

You're so adorable.

I hate that you have to leave me and poor Mrs. Bamm Bamm

all alone when we're having such fun.

Isn't that right, Mrs. Bamm Bamm?

I must leave, I'm afraid, V.

Maurice, I realize there's an outstanding, uh...

But I was hoping to put the luncheon on my tab.

Miss Violet asked that the bill be on her account,

Mr. Moore.

Oh.

Goodness.

John, we must hurry.

Sure, fine.

Okay, well, uh, thank you, Maurice.

Ladies.

It's somewhat of a tight squeeze in here, John.

Yeah.

- Sing Sing Prison! - And hurry, please!

Free Martha Napp! Free Martha Napp!

Free Martha Napp!

Free Martha Napp! Free Martha Napp!

Free Martha Napp!

It's a glorious morning, gentlemen.

Mr. Byrnes!

In what capacity are you here, Mr. Byrnes?

The warden has asked me to observe

to be sure that these proceedings are just and fair.

We're demonstrating one of the new wonders of the age.

The electric chair is considerably more humane

- than death by hanging. - Mr. Byrnes!

A fellow won't shit his pantaloons

in the chair... a woman, neither.

Brave men do not gather to murder a woman.

And what of Elizabeth Cady Stanton's protests?

- This is not courage. - It's cowardice.

She was tried in a court of law.

Fairly tried.

- Where is the body? - This is an outrage!

Justice for Martha!

We condemn murder!

Be careful, girls!

- Justice for Martha! - Justice for women!

Sara!

Do what you can.

- We will, Elizabeth! - We will!

- Save Martha Napp! - Save Martha Napp!

- Excuse me. - Excuse me.

- Press! - Let him through.

- John Moore, "New York Times." - Yeah, that's fine.

Sara Howard, New York Police Department.

This is out of date, Miss Howard.

My good man, we just observed Thomas Byrnes,

the former commissioner of the New York Police Department,

enter through here.

You did not peruse his papers.

Well, that's Mr. Byrnes,

and I think a former commissioner deserves...

I am here from Washington

under the express orders of Theodore Roosevelt,

the Assistant Secretary of the Navy,

and reports directly,

directly to the President of the United States.

So, officer, maybe you want to think about that and hop to.

Yes, ma'am... Miss Howard.

You dissemble with admirable ease, Miss Howard.

I have found being able to tell a small, white lie

on occasion is a most useful skill, Mr. Moore.

I don't mind dying, Dr. Kreizler.

I don't.

But what I do mind

is dying and not knowing what happened to my baby girl.

Can I ask you for something?

Ask anything of me.

When I'm gone, you find her.

You find my baby girl.

You promise me, Doctor?

I promise you, Martha.

They will try to crush us, but we will not be silenced!

Get off of her!

If you find her, you can give it to her.

Roosevelt never called, did he?

There'll be no reprieve.

Any last words?

Stop!

We have to stop this!

One of the female agitators, I see.

This woman is innocent!

This is an outrage, an abomination!

I am surprised, Miss Howard,

a lady of your bearing should be participatin'

in such hooliganism and lawlessness.

"A little rebellion now and then

is a good thing," Mr. Byrnes.

The words of anarchists and agitators.

They're the words of Thomas Jefferson, Mr. Byrnes.

Officers, please.

Miss Howard is a lady with a constitutional right

to speak her mind.

Sara, we have lost the battle.

- Enough. - Let go of me!

I ask you all, as you sit here silently spectating,

where is the body of the murdered child?

Where?

Shame on you.

Shame on you all.

- Double it! - 2,000 volts!

Stevie will take you to "The New York Times."

Laszlo, wait.

I have no need for pity, John.

You should leave.

I would not be a friend if I were

to leave you alone like this.

But there is nothing you can say that will

make this day seem any less objectionable.

Martha Napp put her faith in me.

And I shall write about her

and all of New York will know of this injustice.

She will not have died in vain.

I'm not at all certain that Martha did not want to die.

What do you mean?

She was already dead

before she entered that execution chamber.

Her only thought was for her infant child,

and whoever stole that child killed Martha

as surely as if they had pulled the lever themselves.

Put your hands up and face me.

Stay where you are!

I could've shot you.

You would have been doing me a service.

I can't seem to get rid of the smell of burning flesh

out of my nostrils, which is curious,

because it's no longer a physical sensation,

but my memory of what happened today.

Come in, please.

What would you drink, Laszlo?

Would have a glass of burgundy.

- I have American bourbon. - Straight up or watered down?

I will have that.

How goes it with your brave new adventure, detective?

Seems that most of my clients are rich, old dowagers

who think their servants are stealing from them.

The curse of the greenback.

The more money they make during the day,

the more they worry at night over losing it.

The room is unquestionably yours, Sara.

Well, the rent's not unreasonable,

and we are on Broadway.

- What I meant was... - I know what you meant.

You've surrounded yourself

with your most valued possessions.

And if I were of a mind,

I would tell you much about who you are

by observing the ephemera you've chosen to display here.

It's late, Laszlo.

If you would kindly refrain

from making a psychological profile of who I am

based on the furnishings of my office.

Your father would be proud of you,

seeing what you have accomplished.

I would like to think so.

Hmm.

It is curious, is it not,

at the time Mary Shelley was writing this book,

there was a belief in Galvanism,

that man could reanimate the body

through the use of electrical impulses?

And today...

Today we use the same potent force

to take the life of an innocent woman.

Underneath our skin, bone, and sinew,

which of us are not monsters?

It was indeed monstrous what happened today.

I promised her I would look for her missing child.

I and my detective agency are at your disposal.

I'll help you in any way I can.

I need to first assess my notes

from my interviews with Martha,

and then I will marshal all that I know,

all that I've learned,

to determine what befell the child.

I can help you, Laszlo.

Thank you for the bourbon, Sara.

It was restorative.

And rest assured,

I will call on you should I need your assistance.

Today's headline, Martha Napp!

First woman to suffer death in the electric chair!

Gentlemen, get your papers.

Papers here! Mister, your paper?

What do you want?

Thomas Byrnes is here to see you, Chief.

Well, send him in, Monckton.

Send him in.

Mr. Hearst will see you now, Byrnes.

- Don't stand there, man. - Come in!

Got something on your mind, Byrnes?

Well, sir, first off, I brung you a present.

What's that?

It's hair.

But more to the point,

the child murderess Martha Napp's hair.

- Her hair? - Yes, sir.

Cut from her scalp before she met her maker.

I figured you could give it away in the "Journal."

People have a morbid fascination

with gruesome memorabilia, in my experience.

You leave the running of the "Journal" to me, Byrnes.

We may not be "The New York Times,"

but neither are we PT Barnum's circus.

Besides, that story's almost over.

We'll remind the American people of this fact:

She was a murderess who got her just deserts.

- Thank you, Byrnes. - Thank you, sir.

Monckton, get in here!

I need one of the brain monkeys downstairs

to write a new column for today.

"Spanish spies in New York

bringing their war to our shores."

- You get the picture? - Of course, Chief.

That's what the common man wants to read

over his morning grits.

The United States standing up to bullies.

Here you are, ma'am.

You got a dime, lady?

For a sick soldier... What served his country good.

- Huh? - Sorry.

Spanish whore.

Hello?

Yes, Elizabeth, it's me.

I didn't quite know what else to do,

who else to call, given the political sensitivities.

War with Spain seems certain.

Señora Linares won't call the police?

No.

Do you think the police

will want to provide even one man

to find the daughter of their enemy?

This is why we called upon you, Sara.

I'm grateful for that trust.

I can assure you, I will do my utmost

to help you find your daughter.

Well, yes, Sara.

Isabel and I hoped, we wondered

if we could use your good graces

to call your friend Dr. Kreizler?

Dr. Kreizler had some success, did he not,

with that dreadful monster

who was murdering young boy prostitutes?

Indeed, he did.

And do you not think his assistance in this case

would be invaluable?

Should I have a need for an alienist,

I would not hesitate to ask Dr. Kreizler

for his help and insight.

But what the Señora requires now, Elizabeth,

is an expert in the procedural method of criminal detection,

because there is always a trail,

no matter the criminal's stealth or genius.

And if you still hesitate to consider me professionally,

I will remind you of the prejudice against our sex

that could impede this investigation.

Does it not take a woman

to know that a woman who has lost a child

is neither hysterical nor irrational,

and that she has cause to be as she is?

That she must be heard?

You need a detective, Señora,

and a woman such as I with the resources and the experience.

I see your pain.

I see your suffering.

And I care.

I care, deeply.

I want you to help me.

Isabella is sleeping now.

I'm afraid the trauma is blocking her memory of the day.

Was the sheet there when you came in?

I put it there...

because of this.

There's something about this that feels curated,

staged like a work of art.

Order in the court!

Dr. Markoe is not an alienist.

He has told the court nothing about how

Martha Napp's professed issues in mothering

could have conceivably led to her murdering her own child.

Dr. Kreizler...

I demand justice for this woman.

I demand justice for Martha Napp!

Well, you can demand all you like,

but this is my courtroom, and my ruling will stand.

Execution by electric chair.

Sir?

I believe I'm done for the night.

Laszlo.

Oh, John.

I've been reading a monograph by Dr. Markoe,

Martha Napp's physician at the Lying-In Hospital.

- Laszlo, may I... - He determined

she suffered from post-term psychosis,

but any symptoms he describes here...

None of them were displayed by Martha.

Laszlo, I...

His theories are preposterous,

contradictory, and inane.

May I present my fiancée, Miss Violet Hayward?

- Oh. - Miss Hayward.

V, this is Dr. Kreizler.

- The famous Dr. Kreizler? - The alienist?

I hazard that I'm more derided than acclaimed.

I fear if I spoke with you at any great length,

you would know the deep recesses of my mind.

Or the shimmering shadows.

Laszlo.

Sometimes you go too far.

I thought we were dining à deux tonight, my darling,

but perhaps if Dr. Kreizler is joining us,

he should pull up a pew.

- I think Laszlo was... - Already leaving.

Every mind is like the ocean, Miss Hayward.

There's surface and depth in all of us.

- Good night, my friend. - Good night.

Whoever it is could've conceivably come through

any of these windows.

The staff swear blind

they had the windows closed at night.

Of course they do.

They're afraid of getting into trouble.

You think in this heat

they're not going to at least open them for air?

They entered here. The frame's been damaged.

Give me a boost, Bitsy.

Where does it go?

Leads to 5th Avenue.

They could be anywhere in New York.

Dr. Kreizler, ain't we wasting our time?

Time is never wasted when one is thinking.

That is what is wondrous about the human mind.

We may appear still, yet all the time,

in here, we're conducting symphonies,

solving the most arduous mathematical problems,

and contemplating the mysteries of the universe.

Doing all those things right now, Doctor?

No, Stevie.

Dr. Markoe...

One moment, if you please, Matron.

Count to ten and then tell me.

Dr. Kreizler is outside.

He gave me his card to give to you.

Do not be alarmed, Matron.

We run a tight ship here,

and we do that by discipline, order, and example.

An example needed to be set with Martha Napp.

What will I tell him?

Simply tell him I'm indisposed.

On second thoughts,

tell him to go to hell.

I went to the hospital and the morgue

like you asked, Miss Sara, but we got nothing.

All babies accounted for except for one, but it was a him.

Poor little thing.

His head was swoll up the size of a cantaloupe.

It's difficult the first time

you're confronted with death, Milly,

especially when they're so young.

Bitsy, will you take a message to John Moore?

Ask him if there's been any developments

in the Martha Napp story.

There may be a connection.

Just tell them to call if he hears anything.

This is a real case.

None of our previous endeavors made a difference,

but this one does.

It's life and death, girls.

If you're a good girl,

Nanny will get you a 5¢ soda cream from the fountain after.

Can you do that?

- Good day, sir. - Good morning.

Welcome to Siegel-Cooper.

Not too far, Eloise.

Good morning, "New York Times."

This Martha Napp article's not bad at all, John.

It's not up there with Hawthorne, but it's not bad.

Are you sure you don't want to go back to the society pages

- with your... - My own kind?

I think I've got quite used to

looking at your ugly mug every day, Bernie.

Mm, don't know if I'm gonna run with it yet.

There's a lot of big statements here, John.

It's gonna make a lot of important folks angry.

Did I mention that I'm angry?

What kind of world do we live in for this to happen?

The blood of innocents was spilt.

- "New York Times." - Hello?

- Bernie, wait up. - Yeah?

- Walk with me, John. - Yeah?

Every other newspaper is saying

that she did away with her child.

I appreciate your ardor,

but to run a story, we need facts.

- We got any new ones? - Bernie, hear me out.

I got a lunch at McSorley's with someone

from Boss Croker's finance committee in five minutes.

Boss, boss!

Who knows, you give me some facts,

maybe we can come back to it.

- Boss! - Maude.

- I've been calling you. - This just in.

They found a dead baby's body down at Siegel-Cooper.

- When was this, Maude? - Late morning.

Cops haven't even confirmed it yet.

See where it leads, but go easy.

Thank you.

Maude, I need you to ensure.

Miss Howard gets there directly.

Tell her what's happened.

So what are we looking at, geniuses?

There's toxic abrasion in the mouth.

Burning.

Yeah, I know what toxic...

Abrasion.

Yeah, I know what it is.

- Burning. - Of the mouth.

I know I should've also perhaps sent word for Laszlo,

but it's mere conjecture at this stage

as to whether it's the Napp baby or not.

I fear this is another missing infant.

Another?

I've been asked in confidence

to find the missing infant daughter

of Spanish Governor-General Narciso Linares.

How long has the child been missing?

- Not long. - Since last night.

I promised the mother I would find the baby.

But Sara, you cannot assume it's the same...

There was a bloody doll found in the baby's crib.

It was left there, presented like a trophy.

The doll was from Siegel-Cooper.

I fear this is that child, John.

Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.

- Run along, now. - Stand back.

Stand back.

Marcus! Lucius!

Sara. It's okay.

What can you tell me about the child?

Girl or boy?

It's a girl.

How long is she dead?

The child had died quite recently.

It's hard to say for sure.

Oh, no.

Would it be possible for me to have a look at the baby?

Please, it would mean a great deal.

We just saw Doyle and his men leaving.

- He'll be back any minute. - We'll be quick.

- What is it, Sara? - It's nothing.

Oh, dear God.

Is it the Spanish child?

It has similar markings on its eyes to that of the doll,

but I don't believe so.

Is that blood?

Congealed blood, yes,

but perhaps some other matter.

What we hypothesize was a toxic causality.

What my brother means is we guess poison.

How do you guess poison?

There are lesions, burns inside the mouth

consistent with that type of material.

And the child was found where?

Here.

A girl was in the shop.

She picked it up thinking it was a doll.

I think it would be useful

to have Laszlo come and take a look.

I can't have you here, Sara.

I certainly can't have Laszlo here.

Well, if not now, when?

We will send him a message to meet us at the lab.

The child was poisoned, you said?

Yes.

- Have you identified her? - No. How could we?

Martha mentioned her child had an identifying contusion.

May I?

A benign hemangioma under her left axilla.

It's what I feared.

So the dead child is Martha Napp's?

These are the photographs Marcus took of the Napp child

at Siegel-Cooper,

and these are from the autopsy.

The markings on the eyes are so curious.

- It reminds me of... - Posthumous portraiture.

- Memento mori. - Remembrances of death.

Grieving parents had the eyes painted on plates

to give the illusion the child is still alive.

Do you think someone is grieving

for the child they have killed?

Grief can be tangled, impenetrable,

elaborate, and tortuous.

It doesn't feel like grief, though.

It feels like a Pandora's box of emotions,

someone who is unmanned and untethered.

It feels diabolical.

The doll is a repository of the evil within.

It allows the killer

to dissociate from the cruelty of the act.

- It allows the killer to... - To love.

It allows the killer to love.

Who could've done this?

A person in great pain,

retreated into themselves, alone in their desolation.

Presenting to the world a face to mask their own darkness.

Baby Ana is at their mercy.

Well, whoever they are, they will kill again.

We must begin.

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