Original subtitles

Look at all this snow.

It’s the first snow. It’ll melt.

I don’t like it here. Let’s go back.

So you know your history of the Russian state?

I studied it.

But do you know it?

Do you want to pass your exam?

- Yeah. - Then stop whining.

Are you sure it’ll help?

Yes. It used to be a pagan temple.

If you put a coin on the Red Rock and make a wish,

it will be granted to you.

- How much farther? - We’re almost there.

Take out your five kopecks.

Mommy!

Help!

ALEKSANDRA NIKIFOROVA

DMITRIY FRID

SERGEY DRUZYAK

IRINA SIDOROVA ANDREY RYKLIN

BORIS KHVOSHNIANSKY ANDREY LUKYANOV

YULIYA TAKSHINA MAKSIM RADUGIN

NIKOLAY DENISOV YURI VNUKOV

WRITTEN BY YELENA VAKHRUSHINA

CHIEF WRITER - ANNA RULEVSKAYA

DIRECTED BY DENIS YELEONSKIY

DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY - ANTON KOSTROMIN

MUSIC BY ANTON SILAYEV

PRODUCERS - NIKITA SHUMAKOV, VITALIY BORDACHIOV

ANNA PAVLOVSKAYA, PAVEL BABIN, VLAD RIASHIN

DETECTIVE ANNA SEASON 2

EPISODE 31 THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN

Come in.

Hello, Yakov Platonovich.

This letter has to be sent to St. Petersburg urgently.

Go right now.

Yes, sir.

Excuse me.

Are you Anna Mironova?

Yes, it’s me.

Has something happened?

Only you can help me.

Sit down.

What happened?

Yevgeniy was killed this morning.

He was a close friend.

I’m sorry for your loss.

I need to know who killed him.

I’m begging you! Help me.

Summon his spirit.

I can’t.

I don’t do it anymore.

But you are able to!

You can talk to them.

I know who did it, but I want a confirmation.

No, I can’t. I have retired from all this.

Excuse me.

I was told you were a kind person who helps people.

I’m sorry.

This is something new.

Where is the rest?

God knows.

Have you identified the victim?

Yevgeniy Kuzmin, an ethnographer from St. Petersburg.

The locals have recognized him.

How long has he been staying here?

For about two months.

He was staying at Mitskevich’s, the local landlord’s.

Have you found any traces?

What traces, Yakov Platonovich? First snow.

What are they doing?

Let’s tell them.

Stop! You can’t go any farther. This is a crime scene.

- All right. - We know what happened.

That was the Cheremis.

We let them onto our land, and look how they paid us.

Look, your nobleness!

They work the same land and the same seeds,

but their crops are twice as big.

That’s because they offer blood sacrifice to their idols.

Come on, my friend. Let’s talk.

You have to understand!

- What is your name? - Senia, your nobleness.

Arseniy?

What is the cult you were shouting about?

They live next to our village. They call themselves Kugu Sorta.

Goddamn them!

What makes you think they killed her?

Who else?

That’s their old way, cutting off the heads of the sacrificial offerings.

One can see at once it’s a ritual killing.

You need to keep your men in check.

The police will sort it out.

We’ll find the killer.

If you and your men take justice into your hands,

I’ll hold you responsible, do you understand?

Yes. I’m not stupid.

In this case, off you go.

Let’s go, guys.

The gentlemen don’t understand.

I’m going to Tregubov to tell him what’s going on.

You go to Mitskevich.

Find out about this ethnographer and the cult.

What about the head?

Send the head to Milts.

I don’t know what to say.

This is horrible.

Cutting one’s head off! I can’t believe it.

- Aleksey Nikolayevich. - Aleksey Petrovich!

How good of you to come.

This is my friend, Aleksey Petrovich Turchaninov.

Nice to meet you.

Aleksey Nikolayevich, be strong.

I’m sure the police will find the culprits.

You have questioned the suspects, haven’t you?

Do you have a theory?

When was the last time you saw Mr. Kuzmin?

Yesterday around 5 p.m.

He was going to go to the Cheremis.

- What did he want with them? - He came here for them.

He was writing a paper about them, and ethnographic research.

The Cheremis. Who are they, anyway?

Converted Mari.

They call themselves Kugu Sorta, the big candle.

How long have they lived on your land?

Around a year.

Remember this cause celebre in the Viatka gubernia?

After it, the cult leaders were exiled to Siberia.

The rank-and-file cult members dissipated.

So I rented out my land to a few families.

It was a big mistake, Aleksandr Nikolayevich.

How did you meet Kuzmin?

He wrote me a letter a couple months ago.

He had heard about the Cheremis families living in my land.

So I invited him to stay.

Had he been staying here all this time?

Yes, at the guesthouse.

- Can I have a look? - Of course.

Aleksey Petrovich, can you show the way?

I don’t feel well.

Of course.

Let’s go.

Oh my God.

How long have you known Mr. Mitskevich?

About a year.

We met at a poker tournament, and he robbed me blind!

I realized at once he was a decent man.

The only thing you need to know about him is that he is a noble man,

often to his own detriment.

What do you mean?

He was the only one who agreed to host these Kugu Sorta.

And how did they pay him?

We don’t know yet who is responsible.

- The investigation has just started. - That’s true.

Fill the glass, my friend.

Yakov Platonovich!

- Enjoy your meal. - Thank you.

Sit down.

Thank you. I’m not hungry.

Look what’s going on!

Just like in that book by what’s his name...

"The Headless Horseman".

- Thomas Maybe Reid. - Mein Gott!

We have a head but no horseman.

Have they found the body?

They are looking.

Yakov Platonovich, we need to solve it as soon as possible

and bring the culprits to justice to avoid public unrest.

That’s why I was looking for you.

Please send some constables to protect the Cheremis.

The peasants are on their way there, certain that they are to blame.

Do you have doubts?

There aren’t many options.

Even if some of them are to blame, the others should not suffer.

All right.

Take ten men and go to these...

Kugu Sorta.

They will stay under protection until the investigation is over.

Yes, sir.

How about...

A shot?

Thank you, I’m on duty.

Osip, my friend, bring me bread.

Come in.

Is this the first draft of his book?

Did you know Mr. Kuzmin well?

No.

We only talked twice.

He seemed very enthusiastic about his work.

Sir, are you from the police?

Anton Korobeynikov, head of the investigation department.

What can I do for you?

Olga Aleksandrovna Mitskevich. Do you have a suspect?

Who committed this heinous crime?

I can’t tell you that yet.

It’s a ritual killing, Olga Aleksandrovna.

I’ll be most surprised if it appears it wasn’t the Cheremis.

Nonsense, Aleksey Petrovich.

The Cheremis loved Yevgeniy Lvovich. Why would they kill him?

There are other people who wished him dead, aren’t there?

What is she talking about, Mr. Turchaninov?

You see,

I proposed to Olga Aleksandrovna

a while ago.

But that’s when Mr. Kuzmin came to the estate

and ruined my plans.

So he was your rival, wasn’t he?

The lucky rival.

Believe me, I took my defeat with dignity.

You can’t win love by force.

Where were you yesterday evening and last night?

I have nothing to hide.

Yesterday we were playing poker here, at the Mitskevichs’ house.

A few friends were present, too. You can ask them.

I’m sure they’ll confirm.

Turchaninov had a motive.

He is in love with Olga Mitskevich, who had chosen the other man.

Where was he that night?

Playing poker at Mitskevich. There were three more men.

I’ll confirm with them tomorrow.

Look at this.

Is it the Red Rock?

“The ancestors of today’s Cheremis

would bring animal heads as offerings to the sun god Kugu Yuma.

The ritual was performed on rare occasions,

only in truly dire situations.

Reported by

Aksinya Shumatova, 96.”

So it was the Cheremis.

It’s a beautiful city.

How many times did you go there?

Hush! Don’t spook them.

I forgot the jam. Let me bring it.

Don’t. Don’t bother them.

God, what a beautiful couple.

They are made for each other.

I have to go.

Where are you going so late, ma’am? To Mr. Rebushinsky?

None of your business.

Keep an eye on them. You’ll tell me everything when I’m back.

If you say so, ma’am.

Andrey Petrovich, have you ever been to Turkestan?

I have.

Samarkand is a beautiful city

with amazing ancient buildings.

Why did you ask?

I’m interested in exotic places.

This is where you and I are alike.

I would be happy to show you the world.

Well... Maybe your dream will come true.

Anna Viktorovna, what’s wrong?

Who are you?

What do you want from me?

You need to save the innocents.

The innocents? How do I save them?

The sun moves

from the West to the East.

Anna Viktorovna,

so where would you like to go first?

Turkestan, Indonesia, or maybe Morocco?

Morocco. More tea?

Yes, please.

Well, Yakov Platonovich,

as far as I can tell,

he died between 7 p.m and 9 p.m yesterday.

Can you tell me how his head was separated from the body?

Probably with an axe.

Maybe a butcher’s knife.

Look at these clean,

straight cuts.

It was done in cold blood by a person

who knew what they were doing.

I hope he cut off the head after Mr. Kuzmin’s death.

Definitely. But I’ll be able to name the reason of death

only after we find the body.

What kind of beast could have done it?

There is only one kind of beast able to do this.

A human.

Good morning.

Hello, Ivan Igorevich.

I left my stethoscope here yesterday.

Here it is.

You are in a good mood today.

Yes. I feel better since I have made a decision.

I really hope you won’t regret it.

If I do, there will be no one to blame but myself.

It makes sense.

Excuse me, my patient is waiting.

Your noblenesses!

Are you here to arrest the pagans? It’s high time.

We are here to talk to Aksinya Shumatova.

- Do you know where she lives? - Of course. In that house.

- Do you want me to show you the way? - We’ll find the way.

Whatever you say.

Don’t kill me, kind gentlemen!

Have mercy, good people.

- Stand up. - Have mercy!

- Don’t cry. Calm down. - We didn’t kill anyone.

What is your name?

Mariya Shumatova.

Does Aksinya Shumatova live here?

Yes. She’s my husband’s grandmother, the elder of his family.

What are these sounds?

A cow is in labor. She has been suffering for hours.

- Take us to Aksinya. - I’ll take you.

Come with me.

- Did Kuzmin come to you often? - Yes, sir.

He came to ask about our traditions and old ways.

Don’t believe the evil gossip.

Do you think we would hurt him?

This way.

Come in. Come in.

The detectives from the town are here.

They want to ask you about Evgeniy.

Go.

Anton Andreyevich, search the yard.

I wanted to ask you a few questions.

Did you know the late Yevgeniy Kuzmin well?

I did.

Did you tell them about the Kugu Sorta religion and traditions?

Yes.

This says

he made this drawing based on your account.

Why did he draw this?

I don’t understand.

It’s a sin.

Earlier, you could do that, but not anymore.

You can offer grain, bread,

candles, but not blood.

You have a nice household.

Where is your husband?

He went to the market to sale meat.

Is he a butcher?

Why don’t you go help your cow?

- What are you up to? - I’m sorry!

I’m sorry, sir.

Catch her!

Mom, I’m scared.

Looks like Kuzmin was wrong.

The Cheremis still use this ritual.

What was I supposed to do?

I had to save my son.

We need to get him to the hospital. Call the constables.

Yes.

He has an epilepsy bout. Bromide, intravenously.

Yes. Of course.

All right.

He’s still unconscious.

It’s common for such bouts.

He will soon wake up.

Why did they bring him so late?

He is lucky to get here at all.

Ignorance and obscurantism are everywhere.

His mother cut off a pig’s head to save him,

can you imagine.

Cut off its head?

It’s some kind of cult.

The husband was arrested on charges of killing the ethnographer.

Whose head was also cut off, by the way. What kind of town is this?

He said “Save the innocents.”

- Who did? - The ethnographer.

Anna Viktorovna.

Ivan Yevgenyevich, there is nothing I can do about that.

I hope something will change in your life

and these endless conversations with the dead will stop.

Yes. I want that, too.

Where did you hide the body?

The body?

I don’t know anything.

Here he is, your nobleness.

Gavrila Shumatov. We took him at the marketplace.

Good job. Dismissed.

Well, tell me where you were last night.

Gavrila!

Don’t say anything.

Easy, easy.

It’s a serious charge.

I advise you to start talking.

Do you want your son to be an orphan?

Don’t say anything.

I told you not to break the taboo.

God will punish us!

I...

I...

I did it for my son.

Only for my son.

Tell us the truth, and we’ll take care of your son.

Did you arrange the sacrifice ritual?

Yes.

My son was dying.

There was no other choice.

Go on.

Give us the details.

We took it to the woods,

slaughtered it, and cut off the head, like we were supposed to.

Whom?

The pig!

What pig? What the heck are you talking about?

Who do you think you are?

If you are looking for fools, look in the mirror!

Who killed the ethnographer?

I don’t know. The ethnographer?

I see.

Put them in the cell.

Let them think about it.

Gavrila!

Look harder. Maybe you’ll see some traces.

What can I possibly see? There’s plenty of snow out of town.

Come here.

What?

I think it’s our ethnographer.

Yes, he’s hard to miss,

considering that he has no head.

Is it fabric?

Evidence! We should send for Anton Andreyevich.

Yes. Got it. Hold this.

Where were you?

Working, where else?

You’re always working.

I’m here all alone all day long.

I feel unwanted.

My God, Liza, what’s wrong?

You don’t pay me any attention, Viktor.

I’m not doing it for myself.

I want you to have anything you want.

Anything you want.

But these hats,

gowns, and other whims of yours - they are costly.

You haven’t bought me any gowns for a while.

We would go to Nice, but you didn’t even take me to St. Petersburg.

We are stuck in this God-forgotten Zatonsk.

I can’t even go outside without people pointing fingers at me.

I’m in the same situation, but you don’t see me complaining.

It’s easier for you.

You’re a man.

What about me?

What am I supposed to do when you’re tired of me?

Where would I go?

Liza! What are you talking about?

I love you more than life.

Is it true?

Of course, you silly thing.

There are no signs of struggle, Yakov Platonovich.

No abrasions, no bruising,

no cuts on the body.

It means his death was instantaneous.

The victim didn’t put up a fight.

Can you tell what caused his death?

Come closer.

Take a look. He was stabbed with a knife.

Where did you find the body, by the way?

Around 100 meters from the place where the head had been found.

They probably killed Mr. Kuzmin first,

then cut off his head and took it to the altar.

I forgot to tell you.

At least six hours passed between the murder

and the beheading.

Are you sure?

Don’t insult me, Yakov Platonovich.

Why would the killer wait for so long?

Maybe it was a ritual.

Let me introduce you to the new wild...

Wait... The new wild orchid.

My God.

Piotr Ivanovich, you’re adorable.

It’s a French formula.

I must say, it cost me an arm and leg.

I have a design for the bottle, too,

Mariya Timofeyevna.

Made by Rene Lalique himself. It also cost me dearly.

I’m sure every fashionable woman will want your perfume.

By the way, when will they appear in stores?

Mariya Timofeyevna, we’ve already discussed it, remember?

As soon as your novel is published.

By the way, how is it going?

How much longer until you write the coveted “The End”?

- There are only a few chapters left. - Oh.

But I haven’t decided on the ending yet.

Why don’t you ask for my advice?

I would gladly give you one.

Or maybe Annette. She has great imagination, too.

That’s true.

Look at her insane idea to go to Turkestan to treat cholera.

Is she still hanging on to this folly?

I hope she isn’t.

What?

By the way,

she is spending time with Kliuyev again,

which makes me happy.

But that’s all I can say right now.

Thank God for this.

Kliuyev’s love for her is immense and tender.

He fought on a duel because of her.

It is something.

Brilliant!

What if I end the book with a duel?

The rivals meet.

Suddenly my Agatha appears

and stands between them.

I need to think it over immediately.

Wait, Mariya Timofeyevna?

A duel over Agatha?

I thought she was a woman scorned, a tragic figure.

It was the first five chapters.

I’m on the 30th now.

Mariya Timofeyevna.

Anna Viktorovna.

Hello, Yakov Platonovich.

How is your little patient doing?

He has woken up.

But he has epilepsy. The boy needs treatment.

You were right to bring him here.

Are his parents detained as murder suspects?

I’m afraid they are.

Too bad.

Kuzmin’s spirit came to me and said I had to save the innocents.

I think he meant them.

He also said, “The sun is moving from the west to the east.”

What can it mean?

I don’t know.

I appreciate you

talking to me the way you used to before.

This isn’t like before, Yakov Platonovich.

You hurt me a lot,

and I’m grateful to you for it.

Now I know what matters in life.

Thank you.

Olia. I was told you didn’t eat anything.

I’m not hungry.

Please open the door. Let’s talk.

Olia, baby, I know how hard it is for you.

I was wrong.

I was unfair to the poor Yevgeniy Lvovich. I’m sorry.

Father. I don’t want Mr. Turchaninov to come here again.

My darling, why? Aleksey is my friend.

He has always been nice to you.

He doesn’t hold it against you.

When I turned him down,

he smiled this ugly smile and said sooner or later I would be his.

Olia, it doesn’t make him a killer.

Anyway, he was with me that entire night.

Good night, Father.

Well, gentlemen, congratulations!

Good news!

It’s too early to celebrate.

Is it?

The Cheremis are arrested, and the case is solved.

It isn’t as simple as that.

At first we were certain the Shumatovs killed Kuzmin.

Look at this Gavrila. He’s a butcher.

He can cut off someone’s head in a jiffy.

Their guilt hasn’t been proved yet.

Dr. Milts has established that the ethnographer was beheaded

six hours after he had been killed.

What do you say to this?

Maybe Mariya did it alone.

She ambushed the ethnographer,

stabbed him in the neck,

then came back to the village and confessed.

Like, “the man is already dead

why don’t we do the ritual?"

Like a chance to save her son.

You know, these superstitions of theirs.

I don’t know.

Something sounds wrong.

What is it?

A hunch.

I remember when you used to rely on facts.

If you excuse me, gentlemen, I have errands in town.

Yes, Anton Andreyevich, go. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Keep your head on.

See you tomorrow, gentlemen.

Why is he always so busy now?

He used to spend all his time at the restaurant.

All right,

to good news.

Still, it wasn’t the Cheremis.

Anton Andreyevich, hello.

Andrey Petrovich,

are you interested in new books?

I’ve ordered a Morocco guide.

I haven’t been there in a while.

Are you going on a trip?

Everything is possible.

Good day.

Good day.

Goodbye.

Anton Andreyevich, I didn’t expect you today.

Why is that?

The ethnographer’s murder is the talk of the town.

The case is solved. The culprits are under arrest.

I’m so glad to hear it.

As I can see, you didn’t miss me a lot.

Are you jealous?

What makes you think that?

Actually, I do.

I’m insanely jealous.

Wait.

Does it mean you don’t trust me? You think I’m able to deceive you?

Yeah. We shouldn’t have rushed with the engagement.

Pelageya. No, please don’t say that.

I...

I still can’t believe my luck and am afraid

that it will be taken from me.

I shouldn’t have insulted you with my jealousy.

Today I was daydreaming about living with you,

seeing you off to work.

You have to show me your apartment.

Really?

I want to see where you live.

Of course I’ll show you everything.

I’ll need to clean...

The sun moves from the east to the west.

Here is another one.

“His heart was beating joyfully

in the anticipation of love.

She came up to the mirror.

She looked at herself. She touched her...

Luxurious hair.

"I’m still beautiful", Agatha thought.

This part, too.

The heroine has to take a bottle of orchid perfume and use it.

Excuse me, Piotr Ivanovich,

she had used it ten pages ago.

And I already said she always used it when she was sad.

Mariya Timofeyevna, you’re the author.

You wrote it, and you can rewrite it.

Not just at her sad, melancholic moments,

but also in the moments of sweet, joyful excitement.

The idea is, no matter what happens, you buy the orchid.

This is impossible.

My novel is about a woman’s heart, not your perfume.

If I let you, you’ll squeeze your orchid into every page.

Not at all, Mariya Timofeyevna.

Let me remind you.

It’s not on every page. Look.

The wild orchid is mentioned on page six

and on pages 17, 44, and 73.

It’s four times. Only four.

We need at least ten.

It’s six more times.

Are you out of your mind? Three, no more.

- Five. - I won’t allow even four.

Mariya Timofeyevna,

I’m doing it not for myself but for your book’s success.

My book is good enough without your perfume.

Well, if that’s what you want.

All right, four it is.

However, Mariya Timofeyevna,

can I ask you to write about it in such a way

that this aroma was fully described?

To make it, you know, palpable.

One page, all right?

Piotr Ivanovich, please leave me alone.

What’s wrong with you? We are in the same boat.

We are co-authors, after all.

- I know how to write my own novel. - I love you.

And how many pages to dedicate to your perfume.

Let’s talk about it.

I’m not your enemy, after all.

THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN