Original subtitles

ALEKSANDRA NIKIFOROVA

DMITRIY FRID

SERGEY DRUZYAK

IRINA SIDOROVA ANDREY RYKLIN

BORIS KHVOSHNIANSKY ANDREY LUKYANOV

YULIYA TAKSHINA MAKSIM RADUGIN

NIKOLAY DENISOV YURI VNUKOV

ELENA POLYAKOVA

WRITTEN BY YEKATERINA PACHIKOVA

CHIEF WRITER - ANNA RULEVSKAYA

DIRECTED BY VITALIY BORDACHIOV

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 34 THE OTHER WOMAN

Miss, this is for you.

Me?

Thank you.

Thank you.

Hello, Polina.

Hello, Yakov Platonovich.

The flowers must be from Anton Andreyevich.

You guessed it.

Tell me, do you love him?

I believe you realize that for a woman in my situation...

Anton Andreyevich is a wonderful match.

That’s not what I asked.

You mean passion that makes you dizzy?

I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m still capable of it.

But if you think I’m incapable of appreciating a decent man’s love,

you’re mistaken.

In this case, I’m happy for you.

Again, congratulations to you both.

Thank you.

What do you want from me?

Are you alone, mon ange?

Where is Mariya Timofeyevna?

She must be out on some errands.

I wonder what errands.

She has changed a lot lately,

became a regular femme fatale.

I think it’s thanks to Aleksey Yegorovich.

Rebushinsky.

If Mother is happy, I’m happy for her.

Right.

What are you looking at?

Take a look. You might also find it interesting.

Annette, this is a well-known trick

of the English photographers.

They paint an image on the plate,

expose it,

and get a photograph of a ghost.

Mr. Beliayev has checked the plates.

There are no foreign images on it.

Well. The photographer could have used some other trick.

There must be some.

I know her.

She came to me.

She’s one of the two women who burned at the Timofeyev’s laboratory.

Is she?

Have I interrupted your meal?

I’m sorry.

I didn’t have a chance to have breakfast at home.

Is it from the monastery bakery?

Exactly.

They have great pastries.

As good as the Fillippov Bakery in Moscow.

Did you want to talk about something important?

You’re starting from afar.

No, I just...

wanted to chat...

about Whirlpool.

Yakov Platonovich said I could trust you with everything.

I’m sorry, Nikolay Vasilyevich,

I should have told you earlier, but I couldn’t.

- Of course. - You understand...

I do. The police chief is always the last to know.

We have had this glorious tradition for a while.

Do you think you and Mr. Shtolman would have long found the culprit

if you were using the good old methods?

What methods, Nikolay Vasilyevich?

Sleuths, investigation, searches -

these are useless against Whirlpool.

His major weapon is hypnosis.

He erases his victims’ and accomplices’ memories.

Well? Do you have a plan? Share it.

Under the circumstances we can’t stick to any given plan.

If there is no plan, let’s get back to our business.

What about...

the Timofeyev laboratory murder?

There is an Irisov from Moscow claiming to be the heir.

Fortunately, he also had Timofeyeva’s photograph.

Dr. Milts will try to identify her body based on her face bones,

but he gave us no guarantee.

I think I know her.

Yes, I also have this eerie feeling that I saw her in town a couple times.

Yes.

- I saw her, too. - Where?

In Moscow.

A night club on Stromynka six months ago.

It was called Tea Rose or something.

The way she was dancing cancan... I felt 20 year younger.

Are you sure?

Mr. Timofeyev says it’s his wife in the photograph.

I’m sure.

I didn’t know you were going to such places, Nikolay Vasilyevich.

There are many things you don’t know about me, Anton Andreyevich.

So the spiritual Yelena was dancing cancan.

- Yelena? - Yes, Yelena.

No, her name wasn’t Yelena.

Coco, Mimi, Catiche...

We should send a request to the club

to send us the description of all dancers.

It won’t hurt. You’re right.

And the will? Is it a fake?

No, the will is definitely real. This is Mrs. Timofeyeva’s handwriting.

Excuse me. Black Rose?

Tea Rose.

Owners of old castles in England

use such ghost photographs

to attract tourists.

Timofeyev has enough clients as it is,

and photographs like this one would only scare them away.

No, she is trying to tell me something.

You know, they say spirits these days use new technologies

to connect the world of the living.

Like, say, telephone.

Subscribers in Moscow and St. Petersburg

claim that their late relatives

call them from beyond the veil.

What?

- Of course. - What is it?

Edison’s kinetoscope.

Live images! Motion pictures!

You see? Look!

Stop! Wait!

She is pointing at something. Something...

All these photographs were taken at the Timofeyev studio.

Uncle, we need to go there right now.

Annette, we can’t do it. You can’t go anywhere.

Only to the hospital, accompanied by a constable.

No, no. Give it to me.

Are you bored, my dear?

No, sir.

What are you thinking about, standing here?

What I’m supposed think about, sir.

What you’re supposed...

That’s commendable.

- You should be more careful, sir. - Oh God.

I couldn’t help it. Thank you.

What would we do without you, guardians of law and order?

We would all get killed.

All right. Have a good day.

Go!

I hope Mariya Timofeyevna isn’t going to call the police

when she finds out you aren’t there.

She won’t be home till the evening.

We’ll have time to go to Timofeyev’s and back.

What if he is at home?

He isn’t.

He’s at the hospital with a fractured skull.

If late Timofeyeva worked at a night club,

it means she and her husband were in dire straits.

How can it be? He is a photographer. It’s a lucrative business.

He became famous in Zatonsk. Maybe he wasn’t as popular in Moscow.

Then they must have been eagerly waiting for the uncle’s inheritance.

Yes. Why didn’t they come to the funeral, then?

He said his wife had been ill.

It sounds suspicious.

The will leaving everything to Irisov proves she didn’t trust her husband.

What if he knew about the affair and wanted to get rid of his cheating wife

and take a hold of her money?

He plants a bomb in the shed and goes to the restaurant to secure his alibi.

He knew the lovers were going to meet at the shed.

- On the other hand... - How?

Irisov could kill her for the same reason, the money.

He came to meet her, he had her will,

and he set up the fire.

All right, but who was the other woman?

A random victim, or did she come to see Yelena?

If yes, why?

And who is she?

Svechkina.

Gentlemen, the dancer’s name was Viktoriya Svechkina.

I have just received a cable from Moscow.

Is it her real name?

They claim it is.

That’s why the Timofeyevs weren’t at the funeral.

You mean this woman pretended to be Yelena?

Probably.

Whoa, my friend. We’re here.

Please.

Well, Piotr Ivanovich, are you ready to break the law?

For the second time in one day, mind you.

One day you will be the death

of your poor uncle.

Never.

Genius.

She is pointing in this direction.

Yes.

Nothing here.

So this is a case of an incredible fraud

and coldblooded murder.

Looks like Timofeyev and Svechkina were in it together.

I’m afraid you’re mistaken here.

Timofeyev shouldn’t have trusted his accomplice.

She swindled him, too.

Bequeathed everything to Irisov and getting him into a position

where he couldn’t expose them without exposing himself.

No, it makes sense.

Timofeyev and Svechkina carry a drugged Yelena to the shed,

then he goes to the restaurant,

and Svechkina dies in a fire with her victim

because of some freak accident.

Yes. So the poor woman was a hostage in her own home.

Now I understand why Timofeyev didn’t have any servants.

God knows what was going on in this house.

All right. We need to arrest this Irisov.

Place a constable outside Timofeyev’s ward.

Go to his house. Maybe you’ll find some new leads there.

Yermolin.

The previous owner of the house.

- Photographs. - Let me see.

Lena, 12.

Lena, 7.

They are all childhood photographs.

Not a single one of her as an adult.

You know, Annette, sometimes the most valuable things

slip behind the drawers.

Look. Is that it?

Yes, I think that’s it.

“My dear uncle, I’m sending you a portrait of Yelena.

It wasn’t easy to make her sit for it.

Moscow, August 21, 1894.”

Yes, her posture seems unnatural. As if she is...

As if she isn’t alive.

Like a doll.

No!

Uncle? Where are you...

Uncle?

Annette.

It is better than when we kept fighting.

No more fighting.

I hope I can move back in now.

No, no, darling. What is this nonsense?

We don’t need that.

Excuse me. What?

You see, my dear... My life has changed greatly.

I work a lot, getting ready to publish my novel.

I have no time to take care of your meals, clothes, and other needs.

Masha, you don’t understand.

Quite the opposite. Now I understand you better than anyone.

Adultery is so... exciting!

Bastard!

Uncle?

- A crate! - Open it!

Don’t move, sir.

Put down your weapon, officer.

I’m at my own house.

Let me remind you, Mr. Irisov,

that you haven’t come into your legacy yet.

It’s just a matter of time.

By the way, your timing is perfect, gentlemen.

I’ve been robbed... while the owner was away.

So I urge you to do your duty.

I demand that the thief was caught and my property returned to me.

What is missing?

The photographic camera. An expensive one.

It was inside this cabinet.

How do you know that,

considering you arrived from Moscow only yesterday?

I don’t know what your point is.

- Did your accomplice tell you that? - What accomplice?

This one. Viktoriya Svechkina.

This is Yelena Timofeyeva.

This is the dancer from Tea Rose, a Moscow night club.

Yes, Yelena was a dancer there.

Do you find it objectionable?

It’s your right.

Yelena was left penniless after her parents’ death.

They left everything to some secret society.

I’m hearing the voice of Anton Andreyevich.

It’s definitely him.

Hold this.

So you keep claiming it’s Mrs. Timofeyeva.

Yes. It’s Yelena Timofeyeva.

No. It isn’t her.

Anna Viktorovna?

What are you doing here and who allowed you to leave the house?

You can arrest me if you want.

Anton Andreyevich,

this is Yelena Timofeyeva.

Take him!

Excuse me.

Where are you going, Mr. Irisov? We haven’t finished here.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about. - You will.

To the precinct.

Quick. Get him to the precinct.

This is strange.

The portrait is surprisingly bad quality, as if made by an amateur.

But Timofeyev is considered a good photographer.

She is dead.

This woman is dead.

It’s a postmortem.

Let me explain.

They used to take such portraits in England.

Maybe they still do.

It’s an entire industry based on the fact

that photographs are expensive,

and people sometimes die unexpectedly,

without warning, so to say.

So the family orders a portrait

of the deceased to keep some memories.

This is... May I?

Thank you.

Timofeyev studied in London.

Maybe he had mastered the genre there.

Gentlemen, there is something I want you to see.

Follow me.

I thought I had burned all her photographs.

Unfortunately for you, you missed one.

So you killed your wife back in Moscow.

I didn’t kill her.

Yelena died two months ago.

It was an accident.

Just listen to this.

“People and objects are nothing

but projections on the white background

of the realities hidden from us.”

Yes, Lena, this is so deep.

Hidden from us!

- Lena, do you need help? - No. I can handle it.

Capital.

Lena?

Oh my God!

Lena!

Lena!

She died instantly.

Her neck vertebrae must have broken.

You conceived the fact of her death to get the inheritance.

Not for my own sake!

I wanted to fulfil her last wish.

Lena was waiting for those money

to open a Theosophical Society branch in Russia.

It was her life’s dream.

When the first fits of despair passed,

I realized what I was supposed to do.

I took a few photographs of her

in different outfits to send to her uncle.

Invented a story about her sudden illness and...

Fortunately, there was an ice cellar in the house.

I put her body there,

and I would come every night to look at her.

And when her uncle died, you moved the body to Zatonsk.

But you arrived with another woman, Viktoriya Svechkina.

How did you convince her to play the part of your wife?

Believe me, it wasn’t too hard.

- Wasn’t it? - Yes.

Viktoriya needed money, so she agreed to my offer immediately.

But she betrayed you, siding up with Mr. Irisov.

How could she do this to me?

I loved her.

I’m not sure I understand.

Whom did you love?

I loved Yelena.

But Yelena had her head in the clouds.

She was attracted to all things mystical and mysterious.

Viktoriya was different, you see.

She was merry and full of life.

Living under the same roof

and were naturally attracted to each other.

So much attracted that you decided against spending your inheritance

on the Theosophical Society?

You can’t imagine...

how much I hated

this goggle-eyed idiot Blavatsky.

I wanted a normal, regular life.

I wanted to experience what normal people do.

But for this Yelena had to die...

and not just die...

but die in a fire...

so that it were...

impossible to determine how long she had been dead.

When the Pirogovs came to Zatonsk,

I realized I had to act.

Viktoriya was supposed to leave town, and...

and later...

I would marry her under my own name.

I still don’t understand how it could happen.

The door was unlocked.

She was supposed to run out.

Unless someone stopped her.

The neighbor said she had seen a man around the shed.

It’s time to talk to Mr. Irisov.

What?

You? You!

Again, I spent that night in Moscow in my own apartment.

We’ll check.

But I think it’s possible it was you who stopped Miss Svechkina

from leaving the shed.

Excuse me! Why would I kill her?

That you didn’t have to split the inheritance.

What inheritance?

He blocked the door from the outside.

He found out Viktoriya didn’t love him, so he decided to take revenge.

How dare you? Bastard!

- The camera is missing from your studio. - What?

When was the last time you saw it?

What do you mean, it’s missing?

When was the last time you saw it?

I was using it on that horrible day.

I put it into the cabinet.

When you went to the restaurant,

did you leave the door unlocked?

Yes. Viktoriya was to pick up her belongings.

Take him to the camera.

Bastard.

It’s good that we can see the lady

with an aquiline nose in the photograph.

I presume

that woman is Viktoriya Svechkina.

And this is Yelena Timofeyeva.

You know, doctor, her spirit found a way to appear in the picture

to show where we should look for her portrait.

This is incredible.

Spirits contact me through new technology.

Today it was a photographic camera... Tomorrow it might be a telephone.

Yes.

We are actually standing on the brink of great discoveries.

Imagine,

luminous sensitivity of silver nitrate

or electric impulses.

Who knows, maybe spirits do use these channels until...

Until what?

Until someone up there remembers

to close them for good.

Doctor, can I ask you a question?

Do you think I should accept my gift?

Anna Viktorovna, do you have a choice?

Splendid!

Ma’am, please show off your posture. Everybody is looking at you.

Very good!

Wait for the bird to fly out.

Mr. Beliayev?

- We need to have look around your studio. - What?

A valuable thing is missing, a photographic camera.

You are the only one who could be interested in it.

Don’t worry, ma’am, you will have your portrait.

Just not today.

I’m very sorry.

Wait. You stay here.

We need to search the house.

Please get started.

Gentlemen, this is a misunderstanding.

Anton Andreyevich, what’s going on?

You’ll scare away all my clients.

I know what you feel, Yegor Kuzmich.

But it’s the court investigator’s orders.

He is... well, you know.

Please explain why this camera is at your house.

I don’t know. I haven’t seen it before.

Where were you on Thursday around ten at night?

Here. Working.

I had an urgent commission.

I sent my assistant to my house

to warn them I wasn’t coming to dinner.

Was it... Did you steal the camera?

I’m sorry, Yegor Kuzmich.

I made a mistake.

Fire! Fire!

I didn’t know!

I had no idea something was going to explode.

It’s just...

when some new technologies appear,

especially in photography...

I simply can’t help myself.

I wasn’t going to take it.

It just happened.

How much for this?

Five rubles.

How about a discount?

I can’t. It a novelty, a new design.

They just brought it from Paris yesterday.

No, no.

I’ll take it.

- Please wrap it for us. - Coming right up.

Hello, Piotr Ivanovich.

Yelizaveta Gavrilovna...

You look adorable.

The hat suits you perfectly.

Thank you. Unfortunately, I can’t afford it.

You see how fortunate it is that I was

in the right place at the right time...

just passing by.

Please accept this hat

as a gift.

A gift?

It’s very kind of you, but I can’t.

Of course you can. We are almost family.

Viktor will not like it.

Viktor will not like it... So don’t tell him!

What does my brother know about hats?

Nothing!

Here.

- Will this be enough? - More than enough.

Thank you.

I’m so grateful to you.

My God, you’re such a child.

Come on, let’s have a look around the gallery.

There are many more wonderful stores. Let’s go.

- This way? - To the left.

Hello, Anna Viktorovna.

What can I do for you, Mr. Shtolman?

I thought you might want to know the news about the Timofeyevs’ fire.

Don’t bother. I’ll find out at the hospital.

Please wait. I need to talk to you.

Leave us.

You can be mad at me, even hate me,

but I couldn’t allow you to leave.

These are just words.

Can I ask when you’re going to interrogate me?

- You know it’s not going to happen. - What do you want from me?

Don’t do it. Don’t marry Kliuyev!

Why not?

I love him.

Do you?

Then you can listen to me calmly.

I have to explain it.

Four years ago I married Nezhinskaya.

We were both under investigation,

and her fate was sealed.

They told me my sentence will be the most harsh one.

You will be released.

Sooner or later they will acquit you.

And then you’ll take care of my son.

Your son?

I have a son.

He isn’t yours.

He is five,

he was born out of wedlock, and I didn’t have a chance to adopt him.

He will get nothing after...

my...

You want me to take care of him?

Make sure he gets your money?

Otherwise it will revert to the state.

If you agree, you will be my immediate heir.

I’m begging you!

Remember, you used to love me.

Please! I’m begging you.

I couldn’t say no to her.

The prison chaplain married us,

and we never saw each other again

until the day her sentence was to be executed.

The High Court sentences Nina Nezhinskaya to death by hanging

for her grave crimes.

The sentence is to be executed

in the morning of December 2, 1891.

The High Court, governed by the royal mercy,

rules to commute Nina Nezhinskaya’s death penalty

to imprisonment for life.

Her behavior at the moment could be explained by the shock

of a person who had looked her death in the eye.

However, later it transpired that her sanity never returned.

Did she lose her mind?

She was placed at the prison hospital.

God knows what she had gone through.

After my release I arranged for her to be transferred

to the Professor Lange’s clinic

and placed her son at a boarding school.

So you have done your duty.

It is allowed to divorce a wife condemned

to imprisonment,

but the law won’t let one leave a sick spouse.

What were you hoping for, then?

There are holes in any law,

especially if you have powerful friends vouching for you.

I was promised a divorce

if I catch Whirlpool.

And if you don’t?

If she gets better,

she’ll go to jail, and I’ll be free.

If not...

I’ll be bound to her forever.

- I made a horrible mistake. - Not at all.

You’re the noblest man I know.

I should have told you sooner.

I didn’t want to hurt you,

and I thought I could resolve it.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I’ve been torturing you.

Forgive me!

THE OTHER WOMAN