Original subtitles

Hey, here we go.

Mr. Durst?

What is it?

Crab meat on buttered toast.

No. No, thank you.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

Esther Williams?

Allan.

Where is Mr. Schwartz this evening?

He's out of town for work.

I had to come. I'm on the women's committee.

- We organized this. - Did you have anything

to do with the menu, by chance?

Because they are serving more shellfish and pork than a German beer garden.

We had a Shabbos menu at the Suburban, and no one showed up.

Jewishness is rarely in fashion.

You should really stop me from drinking on an empty stomach,

'cause otherwise I'm going to wake up on the front lawn

tomorrow morning.

You look like you can handle a few drinks. All grown up.

You're the one who's married and a member on the committee.

I'm sure soon you'll have lots of little Schwartzes running around,

won't you?

Maddie. Hi. Hello.

I'm sorry, Maddie. I'm sorry.

- It's fine. I... Don't worry about it. - No, no. I'm s...

No, no, no. I mean, I'm sorry about the way I behaved that night.

I've been wanting to tell you that

- for a long time. - We were kids.

Why would you even bring that up?

Because my father is not a good man.

And if it takes a few drinks on an empty stomach for me to admit it...

L'chaim.

I think you need some fresh air.

When did you find out?

- Allan, you brought this up. - I...

heard you whispering to each other, maybe a week before the prom.

I saw the way you looked at him, and I just knew.

And there was that painting of you in the lake.

I wanted to hurt you so badly.

Me?

Because I blamed you for...

But I know better now.

I know what he did to you.

No, you don't.

At least you got to go home at the end of the night.

I had to live with him.

You think that's funny?

It's hilarious, Allan.

You know, you weren't the only girl.

What do you mean?

I mean, you weren't his only girl, Maddie.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm just like my father.

Close the door.

You know, Mom...

you always look at me funny.

Even when I was little.

As if something was wrong and only you could see it.

And then I read your diary and...

I understood that I reminded you of something

you didn't want to be reminded of.

But I am your son.

Not all those men that came before me.

I'm sorry. I just...

I wanted to thank your mother for finding my daughter's killer.

You can come in, Mr. Durst.

Please.

I guess I owe the two of you an apology.

Your next child will know the truth.

Mom!

Help! Somebody help, please!

Quickly, come!

Okay. You have to push, Ms. Morgenstern!

- Mrs. Schwartz! - Mrs. Durst!

Push, push, push!

What is it?

Your story...

it needs a good lead.

No, wait! I need you!

Cleo?

Cleo?

No!

Madeline Schwartz, reporter for The Star, is in hospital tonight

after being stabbed by murder suspect Stephan Zawadzkie's mother,

in an apparent attempted murder and suicide.

It's this reporter's duty to inform you

that Madeline Schwartz was not only a colleague,

but also a longtime personal friend.

I join the entire city in offering my prayers.

The police report said Mrs. Schwartz was not on assignment with The Star

when she entered the Zawadzkie residence.

How these cases are related, if at all,

is a mystery that is unfolding in real time.

This would seem to clear Stephan Zawadzkie

of Cleo Johnson's murder.

The police are reported to be focusing on new suspects.

Where you going?

Stay here.

I didn't do it. I love my wife.

Tell me, what's the motive?

Listen to me, man. Why aren't you listening to me?

Hey, what's the haps, T-man?

Teddy?

Police just took my dad. You know anything about it?

Come here, man.

What you want, man?

I got something for you.

What's this? You know who killed my mother?

Come on, man. Talk to me.

It was a really meaningful pitch, Mr. Gordon. And I can say that.

Hey, Reggie.

Everything all right here, boss?

Right as rain,

other than the fact that we've got Detective Platt here.

Good to see you too, Reggie.

I just... I figured you both would...

would be happy to hear that they got Slappy Johnson

in the main suspect seat.

Now, you... Any idea why he would blame you for Cleo's murder?

Well, him and Cleo,

they had a big fight here one night, and that's all I know.

Reggie has taken one too many hits in the head.

He forgets he doesn't have to answer questions twice.

We already spoke to the police after the funeral.

Yeah, but you forgot to mention

Cleo's big win with the Christmas numbers, right?

And how she drove the car during the Myrtle Summer hit.

Yeah?

You know, Mr. Gordon, I truly wonder how you can call yourself a race man

when an innocent Black man is about to go to prison

for a crime you know he didn't do.

You ever heard of the African cichlid?

Can't say I have, Mr. Gordon.

Can't say I would have taken you for a fish expert either.

I'm not a fish expert. Reggie is the fish expert.

He is a marine savant.

That's how I know his head still work in the first place.

You could ask this boy anything about these damn fish.

Explain to him this one here, Reggie.

Dwarf cockatoo.

That's right. Tell him where it come from.

- All the way from the motherland. - Uh-huh.

Over 800 species that comes from three different lakes out of Africa.

And tell him how come they kill each other.

Tell him.

Well, they only do that when they don't come from the same lake.

Just like us.

You know, the white man, he think we all the same,

but we can tell the difference.

Yes, we can.

Good night, gentlemen.

That's the second time in less than a week somebody sat their ass on this chair

telling me Cleo won off the Christmas numbers.

So, either Platt and that Jewish reporter got the same bad source,

or there's something you ain't telling me, boy.

I told you I took care of it, Mr. Gordon.

- On Christmas Eve, just like you asked. - You did?

'Cause I don't remember telling your Black ass

to leave her at that damn fountain.

Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry. You're right, boss.

I don't know what I was thinking.

You didn't know what you was thinking?

Captain Stassley? I need a word with you.

Hey, Maddie.

Maddie?

Hey, how you doing, champ?

How you feel?

Stephan Zawadzkie finally talked.

Tried to rape the Durst girl,

couldn't do it...

- What? - He left her in the basement.

Mother found out and that's why she decided to take care of it.

- The mom's gone. - Oh, my God.

- Now... - What if he was lying?

No, he's not.

The blood under Tessie's nails, it matches the blood type of mom.

I know who killed Cleo Johnson.

Maddie, come on. Stop worrying about Cleo Johnson.

- They just arrested her husband. - Oh, no. No, no, no.

Listen, Maddie.

- All you need to worry about right now... - He didn't do it.

- Is you getting better. Okay? - No, no. I know he didn't do it.

You could have been killed.

Hey,

so, what the hell happened in there, anyway?

I mean, what did she say to you before she...

If you think that you're writing this story...

you have bigger balls than I ever thought.

Maddie. People wanna know.

Come on... Maddie, listen, I am being squeezed from the inside here.

You tell Marshall that Cleo Johnson's the story...

- Marshall knows it's your story. - And it's my story, Bob.

Okay. All right. Who's your lead?

Sir, you can't be in here now.

- Yeah... Listen, Maddie. - My story.

- Sir? Sir, come with me, or else... - Maddie...

- I'm gonna have to call security. - Listen.

Sir?

Get him out of here.

- Tell Marshall... - I'll be back.

The Zawadzkies are old news.

- Cleo's the story. - Bring me a cooler pack.

My story.

Tessie?

"There are very few human beings

who receive the truth

complete and staggering.

Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment."

Yeah, I don't have time for fragments.

- I need it now. - Or what?

Or else no one will ever know the truth of who murdered Cleo Johnson.

Or no one will know what a great writer you are?

Ambition is not the enemy of truth.

What about my truth? But you never told my story.

What story? You had a nice little suburban life, then it was over.

Anne Frank had it a lot harder.

You're old news, Tessie.

I'm sorry, Tessie.

I'm so sorry your life was taken from you too soon.

I'm sorry.

I will tell your story one day, I promise.

But right now, I have to focus on who killed Cleo Johnson.

Who was Madeline Schwartz?

Morgenstern!

Morgenstern.

Why are we so mysterious to ourselves?

The only way we can know Madeline Morgenstern

is in the light of those who loved her the most.

So I'd like to welcome her mother, Tattie...

to the pulpit.

- Ma. - Mrs. Morgenstern,

will you be joining us to tell us about your daughter?

Ma, go... Get up there. Tell them what my life was about.

I don't know who you were.

You never tell me anything.

Okay.

On Purim, I was 11 years old.

All the kids were in costumes.

I was dressed as a butterfly.

And suddenly, I saw a real butterfly.

I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world

and I wanted to hold it.

But when I caught it, I opened my hands and it's dead.

- The butterfly had died. - And then I saw my father coming.

He came to tell me that my brother

and my mother were killed in a concentration camp.

Ma, you were 30 when you found out about that, you weren't 11.

And why do you only have terrible memories?

That's why I don't tell you much.

But you said you wanted to get to know me.

This is my funeral.

- I've given up everything I ever wanted... - Yes.

- So that you could have... - Yes.

- What I didn't have. - Everything that you always wanted.

Yes. I've heard that.

Every mother says that, but I don't want what you didn't have.

I want what I didn't have.

- Mrs. Morgenstern. - I can't end up like you.

I'll do it.

Madeline Morgenstern was a mother,

a daughter, a lover, a wife.

That's not the whole story.

- She was also a writer. - A writer.

She used her instincts to chase the marvelous.

The marvelous.

She fought to tell the stories that people needed to hear.

She found justice for Tessie. She found justice for Cleo.

Justice.

And that's how we should remember her.

As someone who fought for those who could no longer fight for themselves.

She fought for justice. She fought for justice.

Fight for justice. Fight for justice. Fight for justice.

White power. White power. White power.

Spokesman of the Ku Klux Klan,

and founder of the National States' Rights Party,

Reverend Connie Lynch has arrived in Baltimore

to lead their demonstrations for a second night at Patterson Park.

The NSRP has vowed to meet any counter demonstrators

with a show of force and unfettered fury...

Make sure everybody checks their gear and rally...

Hey, Cap. You wanted to see me?

Yes, Detective.

Bosko.

Yeah, Captain?

Accompany Detective Platt to my office and wait for me there, please.

In your office, sir?

I'll be there shortly, Platt.

So, what's the deal?

Well, the kids that started the local NSRP had a rally last night.

A thousand people.

They're going out again in a few hours.

Yeah, I saw them on the way.

The boys headed out there to stop it, right?

Well, they got every right to protest, as long as it's peaceful.

Calling Negroes to die is peaceful, Bosko?

It's freedom of speech, Ferdie.

Detective Platt.

It's the First Amendment. You might've heard of it.

Goddamn it. Locked.

Hey, you know what? I got the key.

Well, the captain keeps a TV in here somewhere.

The Colts are playing.

You know, the truth is,

no one gives a shit about the NSRP.

The ball game, that's what they care about.

Most of us just wanna go to work in the morning

and come home to a hot meal.

Your partner, Percy, he understood that.

Why don't we leave Officer Davis out of this, please?

You know what's the problem, Ferdie?

Everyone talks about you Negroes like no one else ever had it bad.

You know, when my pop first came to Baltimore,

the Irish ran it, and they took care of their own.

Then the Italians ran it, and they took care of their own.

Hell, the Jews came in by the numbers, and they worked their way up.

But all of a sudden, everyone's talking like all white people are the same

and it's us verse the Negroes.

Maybe 'cause the only thing you all could agree on was how to treat us.

It's just the way it's always been.

- You boys gotta wait your turn. - Maybe it is our turn.

Yeah. Maybe.

Hey, Platt?

Yeah.

You gotta tell me,

does Mrs. Schwartz smell as good as she looks?

Excuse me?

I had to tell the captain

that his token has been sneaking through her window at night.

So maybe one day, when it actually is your turn,

she'll let you in through the front door.

What are you doing?

I'm keeping your fucking ass out of prison for breaking the law,

that's what I'm doing.

Man, you can thank the captain for that.

He'd rather see you resign quietly on your own.

But if you don't give a shit about the department's reputation,

try to imagine how Mrs. Schwartz will look behind bars for cohabitating with a Negro.

Guess it's safe to say Cap's not coming.

Excuse me.

Hi.

You came.

I guess you were right, I can't be trusted.

I never said that.

I said I trust you to be who you are.

Who am I?

And how can I trust you?

I've been with a few white women.

Truth is, the fact that they couldn't go anywhere with me in public

was the best part about seeing them.

No promises, no pricey dates, none of that.

No feelings.

Just me and my detective dreams.

And that was my idea of freedom, until I met you.

I can't tell you who you are, Ms. Morgenstern,

but I know you won't stop until you find out.

And I like that.

I like it a lot.

More than you like Cleo Johnson?

"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically.

We grow partially.

We are mature in one realm,

childish in another."

Are you okay?

I know who killed her.

Madeline, the doctors want you to rest.

Go to sleep.

Go to sleep.

I brought you clothes.

I need to prove who killed Cleo Johnson.

Madeline.

Mom?

Sweetheart...

come inside.

Come in.

- They're letting Jews in. - Why?

Didn't you hear?

We're white now.

Come in.

Where are you going?

Stop worrying about the Schvartze, Madeline.

Come inside.

271, 221, 366, 111, 271,

221, 366, 251, 366, 111,

271, 221, 366, 111.

We found you!

366, 251, 111, 271.

That's my wife! That's my boo over there. Look at her.

Cleo!

Tell me who killed you.

Tell me.

What have you done now, Ms. Morgenstern?

I can't dream anymore.

You're not dreaming.

You're right here, right now, with me.

Who are you?

I was Cleo Johnson.