Original subtitles

♪ Boom, boom, boom, gotta get that boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ Gotta get that boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ That boom, boom ♪

♪ Yo, I got that hit that beat the block ♪

♪ You can get that bass overload ♪

♪ I got that rock and roll, that future flow ♪

♪ That digital spit, next-level visual ♪

♪ I got that boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ How the beat bang? ♪

500. Do I hear 520?

$520,000.

Do I hear 540? Come on, ladies and gentlemen,

have you ever seen anything like it?

Not only unique but also patriotic.

And we have 540.

$580,000

from the bidder on the phone.

Can I get 600? Six to the lady.

620, anyone?

$620,000.

Can I get 640?

640? 640, anyone?

Ladies and gentlemen, it's your last chance at 640.

All right, 620, going once.

620 going twice.

Wait, do I see 640 in back?

Oh, my God, he's bleeding!

Oh, my God.

Looks like a gunshot wound to the stomach.

Our vic's name is Xander Green.

He worked at the auction house as an appraiser

for the last three years. I want everyone

who attended the auction tested for GSR.

That might be tough, Mac.

After our boy took a face plant and expired,

half the guests hit the road,

thinking this might be some kind of robbery.

What about witnesses?

Anyone hear a gunshot?

Everyone I spoke to said this room was

in a feeding frenzy. The only thing they heard

was the sound of some rich guy getting ready

to dump 600 large on a necklace.

On a piece of jewelry?

Guess some people are

recession-proof.

Either that or they don't read

the financial news because this was a full house

and the bids started at 100 grand.

So the auction house stood to make a killing.

They're not the only ones.

♪ Out here in the fields ♪

♪ I fight for my meals ♪

♪ I get my back into my living ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪

Got a cell phone with an outgoing call in progress.

Hello.

This is Detective Mac Taylor.

Anyone there? How long has it been active?

48 minutes.

Okay, 'cause according to witnesses,

our vic dropped about 40 minutes ago.

So the call was made right around the shooting;

means there may be a witness who heard something.

Flack, reach out to the phone company.

See who this number belongs to.

What do you got?

Blood trail.

Directionality indicates

that our vic came from somewhere down there.

Danny, in here.

I got spatter.

Looks like blood.

I think

we just found our primary crime scene.

What do you think it is?

No idea.

Here, look.

Eight dots forming a rhombus.

I suppose it could be a prison tattoo

with some sort of secret message.

We already ran him.

He had no criminal history.

Mm.

Eight dots had to mean something to him.

If he's an astronomy buff,

the dots could represent the eight planets,

though to me, there will always be nine.

I was very fond of Pluto. What else you got?

Timothy Leary claimed there were eight circuits of consciousness.

I was referring to your autopsy findings, Sid.

You had some questions.

Uh, that I do.

Wound characteristics indicate

he was shot at close range

with this.

Huh?

Nine mil.

Full metal jacket. Jacketed rounds

are designed to pierce armor.

This bullet should have gone clean through our vic,

but it didn't even make it halfway.

I know, it doesn't make any sense.

This entry wound is also larger than it should be.

Which brings me to question number two.

The vic was also stabbed in the same location that he was shot.

What do you make of that?

Two perps...

One with a gun, one with a knife?

Or maybe one perp who felt the need for a little overkill.

Either weapon could have caused COD by exsanguination.

It's this type of causality dilemma

that has stumped philosophers for years.

Which came first... The chicken or the egg?

Or in this case...

the knife or the gun?

- All right, thanks. - I'll see you tomorrow.

Hey, Doc.

You okay?

My Uncle Frank had a heart attack.

He's dead.

I, uh... I'm sorry, buddy.

I just talked to him on Sunday.

He was talking about his summer visit.

He comes every July.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I remember.

You guys were tight.

You know, when I graduated from med school,

my Uncle Frank made this sign

and he put it on his front lawn, and it said:

"This is the home of the very proud uncle

of Dr. Sheldon Hawkes."

Funeral's day after tomorrow.

All right, well, you know what?

Don't worry about anything, all right?

I got your back.

Thanks, man.

I'm sorry, buddy.

All right.

Mac.

I appreciate you picking up some of the slack

when Hawkes goes out of town.

Oh, yeah, well, I'm in between girlfriends at the moment,

so I got a lot of time on my hands.

Oh, sorry, that's too much information.

So how we doing on that nine-millimeter

Sid pulled from our vic?

Ran it through ballistics, and the rifling characteristics

are consistent with a German Luger,

but this is where it gets weird.

Okay, the bullet's core

was steel. Most bullets have

a lead core.

Well, our bullet's old school,

all right, manufactured in the early 1940s by a company called

Deutsche Waffen-und Munitionsfabriken.

That could explain

why the bullet didn't penetrate further into our vic.

Gunpowder deteriorates over time...

especially when the ammo's not properly stored.

So if the bullet's old,

maybe we should be looking for an old gun.

What do you have so far?

The 48-minute call you found in progress originating

from the vic's phone around TOD went to voice mail,

so Flack subpoenaed the phone records

and we got a recording.

What are you doing here?

That's our vic, all right... I ran a voice comparison

to his outgoing message and I got a match.

Boom.

The rest gets interesting.

What the hell is that?

What do you think you're doing?

And the rest is just reactions,

chaos, us showing up.

Got a cell phone

with an outgoing call in progress.

How long has it been active?

That's pretty much it.

Nothing audio-wise on our shooter.

What about the person who received the call?

You ready for this?

You're going to love it.

Michael Elgers?

Everyone's favorite neo-Nazi.

Turns out Xander called him twice

before the call you just heard,

and according to the phone records,

he answered both of those calls.

So maybe he was a witness.

It doesn't add up.

I mean, a guy

who works on Madison Avenue associating

with a low-life skinhead?

Maybe it's less an association and more an affiliation.

Danny, pull up those pictures that Sid took

of the vic's tattoo.

Yo, what are you doing here?

Thought you were on your way to Michigan. Flight's delayed three hours.

Figured work would help me take my mind off things.

Where you headed? I'm headed to interview a potential witness.

You mind if I tag along? Actually, I don't know if you want to do that, bud.

Why? What's up?

It's Michael Elgers.

So he's a racist.

That's his problem, not mine.

♪ My world is painted black ♪

♪ My galaxy is cracked ♪

♪ Things go from bad to worse ♪

♪ Contracting universe... ♪

Michael Elgers?

Can I help you?

We'd like to talk to you about Xander Green.

I wasn't talking to you.

Oh, don't be stupid.

You see who we are.

How do I know Nation of Islam

over there didn't steal his ID?

What did I just say? I got work to do,

pigs, so make it fast.

Talk to, uh, Xander Green recently?

I don't know no Xander Green.

Then why'd he call you three times yesterday?

Are you saying I'm a liar?

Bet your ass I am. First you come into my shop

uninvited, and then you insult me?

- You better watch your mouth. - You better back off.

All right, don't make me put an arm on you.

I'm done talking to you.

And you... you got some dice coming in here.

Next time you do, you show a little respect.

Get over here.

You're under arrest for harassment.

Come on, man, it's not like I strung him up in a tree.

Danny, Danny.

Danny, Danny.

I want a lawyer.

I want to win the lotto.

That cannoli-eating punk assaulted me.

I hear different.

I hear you resisted arrest.

Ask the Negro what happened.

Sorry, pal, I don't speak ignorant.

But I tell you what...

What a scumbag.

Yeah, we knew that going in.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

You gave him exactly what he wanted, Danny,

and that piece of garbage isn't worth it.

He resisted arrest. I know that,

but I'm not the one who needs convincing,

and Internal Affairs is just the first stop.

If the ACLU gets wind of this,

they're going to have a field day.

We got a skinhead

claiming police brutality,

and the only witness is yours truly, an African-American.

Geez, I know how it looks.

There's no way I was gonna let him get away with what he did.

Danny, guys like Elgers,

they like to push buttons.

Doing nothing might have sent a stronger message.

So you took the higher road.

Is that it? Oh, come on, man.

Look...

I know this is going to sound crazy,

but I think all of this happened for a reason, okay?

Elgers surfacing today as a witness,

today of all days, and my plane getting delayed,

and you and I going to question him together.

Maybe this is my Uncle Frank testing me

to see if I learned something from him.

My uncle was in Memphis the day Dr. King

was assassinated.

Couldn't have been more than ten years old.

And... his whole life, he was on the front lines of racism

and he never let it intimidate him.

That's why I couldn't let

Elgers get to me.

Come on, not today.

Not today.

I got a plane to catch.

All right.

All right.

You're a lawyer?

Try again.

Another pig.

What, did you guys run out

of welfare recipients to protect,

so you got to hassle me?

I already said I'm done talking.

Then, shut up.

My name is Mac Taylor.

I'm a detective.

I run the New York Crime Lab.

Earlier today, you assaulted one of my men.

What the hell happened to this country?

Back in the day, you and me,

we'd never be having this conversation.

Back in the day, I would have shot your racist ass.

Oh, so you're super white man, is that it?

Niggers, zipperheads, little queer faggots.

You save them all.

Except crackers like you.

Between jobs, you just sit on a stoop all day

bitching about people who've actually

done something with their lives.

Do you think I need some fancy job

or diploma to tell me I'm somebody?

Any beaner can get an education in this country.

I'm fourth generation American.

That's all the success I need.

That don't mean a man can't ask for more from time to time.

Now, get me my lawyer,

'cause that chucker-loving punk with a badge

assaulted me, and he's got to pay.

You'll get your lawyer.

Just know this cuts both ways.

There's still that harassment charge against you.

There's no law against spitting on an animal.

For some, that might be true.

They'd be back on the street by now.

For you, that charge carries quite a bit of weight.

What the hell are you talking about? The two years

you owe New York State...

if I decide to push a parole violation.

Even without the diploma, I imagine

you see where this is going.

What do you want from me?

I want to know about your relationship with Xander Green.

There's no "bromance," if that's what you mean.

Xander's a friend.

Was... he's dead.

Well, if Xander's dead, I had nothing to do with it.

You weren't approached as a suspect.

Then, why am I here, besides a crap harassment charge?

Yesterday, Xander called you three times.

The first two times, you picked up.

The third time, it went to voice mail.

You want to tell me about that?

That fool used to ass dial me all the time.

I thought he was trying to reach me, but then I realized

what was going on, so the third call,

I just let it go to voice mail.

You hear anything on the first two calls you picked up?

I didn't hang with it very long,

but I thought I heard Xander arguing with somebody.

Any idea who?

Uh, he-he mentioned some kike named Ari...

or Abe...

Abraham... I-I don't know.

Abraham. Call me Abraham.

Abraham.

According to Felix Marshall, the auction house,

you were a guest at their auction yesterday?

Yes, I was there.

Well, a witness

heard your name mentioned during an altercation

with an appraiser, Xander Green.

Xander Green is a ganef, a thief.

He told me

he would appraise the piece of jewelry I was selling

for more than it was worth.

I am not interested in cheating anyone.

Keep your mouth shut.

I'll make you very rich.

You can ask him yourself,

but I imagine he'll deny our conversation

for fear of losing his job.

I'm afraid he no longer has to worry about that.

Xander Green was murdered yesterday

during the auction.

Abraham, tell me

about the rest of your night.

Detective, I wish I could help you,

but I left after the preview.

You didn't stay around to see how much your piece sold for?

The item I gave Mr. Green to sell...

belonged to my late wife.

It was her most prized possession.

She loved wearing it.

I could not bear to see it go to some stranger.

Mr. Klein, why did you sell it

if it meant so much to you?

I see you wear a watch.

Most people today, they don't see the need.

They have clocks and everything else

right on their cell phones.

What I do,

there isn't much use

for it anymore.

But that doesn't stop my son, David.

He wanted to be close to me,

so he asked me to teach him.

And now what does he have?

In five years, this place will be gone.

What happens to David and his family then?

I didn't want to part with it...

but...

my wife's jewel yesterday...

sold...

for over $300,000

without cheating anyone.

That money will help

when the time comes.

Oh, very good work.

Good, good, good.

David, say hello to Detective Mac Taylor.

Everything all right? It's nothing, nothing.

Uh, David, be sure and finish

cleaning Mr. Polanski's pocket watch.

Okay, Pop.

My boy.

How did you get those scratches?

These scratches?

Oh.

After our conversation,

Mr. Green tried to throw me out of his office.

Would you, uh, mind if I photograph them?

Of course not.

Can you pull up your sleeve, please?

Like that?

I was in Auschwitz.

It was a very long time ago.

Did Mr., uh, Green ever share any of his anti-Semitic views?

I never told Mr. Green I was Jewish.

I don't find it necessary to advertise that.

Maybe it was the camp that changed things.

When I came to this country,

I had no desire

to be a religious man.

But my son makes up for both of us.

He says, "Pop...

we must remember."

I say...

sometimes, it's better to forget.

Ah.

Here you go, Mac. Go for it.

You're right.

Wound pattern's identical.

Weapon like this could be what killed Xander.

You ever seen anything like it?

19th century naval officers

were known to carry flintlocks

with bayonets and the British had the Webley revolver.

There was also this nasty looking pistol

called the Apache.

Combination gun, knife and knuckle-duster.

French gangs used to use it in the early 1900s.

Only we're looking for an old Luger

with a bayonet affixed to the bottom of the barrel.

Apparently, there were some Nazis

who liked to make their own.

And since our ammo dates back to the 1940s...

Our neo-Nazi could've been killed with an old

Nazi weapon. Irony.

If it is our murder weapon, rules out the possibility

of two perps. Also answers

the chicken and the egg question. And why

one of the tears in the wound was so big.

The blade came first.

That is some seriously sadistic behavior, right?

I mean, why not just shoot him and be done with it?

Taylor.

On my way.

Somebody just broke into the vic's apartment.

Coincidence?

Could be our killer.

Whatever he was looking for just might be our motive.

- Hey, guys. - So, the neighbor came home,

saw that the door broken,

knew that the vic was dead,

called 911.

Intruder must've heard her, 'cause then he ran.

Place doesn't look tossed.

Maybe our guy ran out of time.

Or maybe he knew where to find what he was looking for.

Flack...

take a look at this wear mark.

Someone moved the bookcase.

Often.

Yep.

We just found

our closet Nazi's closet.

Take this.

Please tell me those aren't what I think they are.

All this stuff's from the Holocaust, isn't it?

Xander was celebrating their genocide.

Mac!

I just got a hit off one of the prints I lifted

off the broken door lock.

Michael Elgers.

That was fast.

He just got released.

Obviously, he misses us.

Hey!

Stop! Hey!

What part of "freeze" don't you understand?

I told you. I didn't touch Xander Green.

We were friends.

Yeah? Let's go!

Hey, boss.

You gotta see this.

♪ ♪

One of these could be our murder weapon.

"Men's leather shoes, size nine, taken in Treblinka.

$2,000."

"Child's doll, fair condition.

"Found buried with bodies in Dachau.

$6,500"?

They're auctioning off items

belonging to victims of the Holocaust.

That's why Elgers tried to get into

Xander's secret closet.

I think we just found our motive.

So, Elgers killed Xander to steal his collection

and to sell it to the highest bidder.

Case closed.

So, you say you found these items hidden

in your murder victim's apartment?

Along with a lamp shade that DNA confirms was made of human skin.

Comprised of various tattoos that were sewn together?

The commandant

of Buchenwald, his wife,

would order Jews to line up naked,

and when she saw a tattoo she liked,

she had the skin removed

and tanned to be made into lamp shades for her home.

Two years ago, I heard about one

that was traded on the black market for over $10,000.

That's why I've requested

that the NYPD make this a priority.

They'll find the buyers and sellers,

make the appropriate arrests.

Whatever items might be recovered,

perhaps there's a way we can get them back

to the families. Six million were killed, Detective.

And only 900,000 survived.

I'm afraid the odds of finding family are slim.

But we have spent

the past two decades taping testimonials

of Holocaust survivors.

Let's see if Esther Schnitzler

is referenced in one of those.

How do you know about Buchenwald?

My father mentioned it when I was a kid.

He was an army man. 6th Armored Division.

He said he helped liberate the camp in 1945.

Didn't say much more than that,

so, I went to the library.

Looks like there's several mentions of an Esther Schnitzler

in an interview with her cousin, Hannah.

When we first got to the camp,

we were marched to an area

where they shaved our heads, took our clothes.

On the way there, there was a big ditch...

filled with bodies.

That's where I saw Esther.

She'd been shot in the head.

Nearby was her husband, children...

all dead.

I remember thinking, that can't be them.

Esther arranged to escape.

There was a young German boy, a neighbor.

Klaus Braun was his name.

And he told Esther that he could help her

and her family get out of Germany.

Oh, for a price.

Oh, but back then, the... the Nazis, they...

they took everything.

Only thing Esther had left was a brooch.

She managed to hide it.

So beautiful.

Diamonds.

The boy...

was going to drive them to the border

and from there, Esther and her family would escape on foot.

Only he didn't drive them to the border.

He took them to Auschwitz.

Schnell. Schnell.

Klaus' father was SS

and Klaus was Hitler-Jugend.

Like father, like son.

Back then, one could make good money

turning Jews over to the Nazis.

I'm afraid that's all there is.

And I guess this is all that's left of that woman's cousin.

Is it possible to get a copy of the testimonial?

It'll help the DA when the case goes to court.

Of course.

Here you go.

Thanks.

Mr. Lesnick, I appreciate your time.

I'll be in touch.

Detective, what you've done here today,

by pledging to help us,

we call that a mitzvah.

An act of human kindness.

Thank you.

How did it go with Internal Affairs?

Two week suspension.

No pay. Department's got no problem

bending me over

to do right by this murdering bigot.

We live in a litigious society, Danny.

Right or wrong, everybody's got rights.

The upside to this suspension is, though,

I get to spend time with my new wife

before our little bambina arrives.

That's a good idea.

I'll be here when you get back.

You always are.

Thanks.

I don't like that look.

What is it?

We're back at square one.

Adam tried to assemble the murder weapon

from what we got at Elgers' place and nothing.

He tried every permutation.

Maybe Elgers got rid of it.

Flack ran Elgers' alibi for the time

that Xander Green was killed.

It checked out.

Our skinhead was across town at TOD.

So, he's not the killer.

No.

What about the witnesses you interviewed?

According to them, the last person

to see Xander alive was a model named Cody King.

And before you ask, her alibi checks out.

She was at the auction when Xander was shot.

Wait a minute.

Enlarge that again.

I've seen this piece of jewelry before.

It's the same piece. Where's that inventory list

the auction house gave us?

I want to know who it belonged to.

Uh, it says Abraham Klein.

He consigned the brooch.

What is it?

In 1942, that brooch

was given to a boy named Klaus Braun.

He was a member of Hitler Youth.

Then how did a Jewish clockmaker get it?

Abraham Klein is Klaus Braun.

Listen, Detective, I...

We found this journal in Xander Green's house.

It belonged to a Holocaust victim

named Esther Schnitzler. You remember her?

I'm sorry, Detective, I don't.

Well, you may have tried to forget,

but you know who I'm talking about.

I know no one by that name.

It was a long time ago.

So many died.

- But how many at your hands... - Braun?

What are you talking about?

You seem to have me confused with someone else.

Who is Braun?

That's him.

That's Klaus Braun.

His father, Ernst, was an engineer,

helped build the crematoria at Auschwitz.

Very efficient.

30 trays, three bodies a tray.

Could turn 90 corpses to ash at a time.

Xander Green recognized this brooch

from Esther's journal when you brought it to him, didn't he?

Didn't he?

But Xander didn't turn you in

to the authorities. Why not?

Did he try to blackmail you, is that it?

Trying to get you to share some of the brooch money?

You couldn't risk someone like Xander

knowing your secret, so you killed him.

No. No!

You're wrong!

I did no such thing.

This is you... Klaus Braun...

In 1942, in your hometown of Strausberg, Germany.

In 1942, I was living in the Warsaw Ghetto.

You're lying.

From 1941 till 1943, you were a member

of Hitler Youth,

a paramilitary organization of the Hitler party

assigned to round up Jews

trying to escape the Final Solution.

When we enlarged this photo,

we found the murder weapon

you used to kill Xander Green.

Detectives are on their way

to your house right now with a warrant.

I guarantee you, we will find that weapon.

Detective!

I have done nothing wrong!

How can I be a Nazi when I have this?

This is proof! No.

This is proof.

Lou Sokolov.

I'm sure you remember him.

He and a few assistants

tattooed every prisoner in Auschwitz

from mid-'42 until the war ended.

This... is their work.

The handwriting on your arm doesn't match.

And I'll bet if I take a sample of this ink,

it won't come back as Koh-I-Noor,

the brand used at the camps.

You did this tattoo yourself.

That's ridiculous.

I am a Jew!

You saw my son, David.

He is a Jew!

Because he thought you were!

And that God had saved you!

He was probably so grateful that you had survived

the atrocities of the Holocaust.

What he didn't know, is that you helped perpetrate them.

You lied to your family.

Your friends.

But you had no choice, did you?

After the war, you had to go into hiding.

And so you pretended to be what you despise the most

so you could get into this country

and elude discovery and capture!

And it worked for almost 60 years.

Until you sold this brooch.

And then something intervened.

Fate. Karma.

Personally, I like to think it was God.

I don't know why you think these things.

Enough!

Enough.

This is over, Braun.

It's over.

My name...

is Abraham Klein!

Your name is Klaus Braun.

Don't bother denying it!

There are men from the Israeli government

here to verify your identity.

You have something to say, Braun?

Do you have something to say?!

"We should have killed them all."

David!

I was sleeping on the floor.

I don't know for how many days

and when he woke me, I got scared.

I thought he was one of the camp soldiers.

The SS all knew the war was ending,

and they tried to eliminate as many Jews as they could.

But there was something different

about this man standing over me.

I could see it in his eyes.

And his uniform.

He was an American.

So young.

I could tell the sight of me was too much.

I was bald, maybe 80 pounds, but this man,

he was careful not to look as horrified

as I'm sure he was.

He wanted me to come with him,

but my legs wouldn't move.

I was too weak, so...

he carried me...

out of the barracks.

And he gave me his jacket, something to eat.

A Hershey bar.

I took one bite

and that was all my empty stomach could handle.

But nothing has ever tasted better.

His goodness...

put back a little of the faith I had lost.

My grandchildren...

put back the rest.

And what was his name?

Taylor.

Private McCanna Boyd Taylor.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Do you know what yahrzeit is, Detective?

Tell me.

It's the anniversary of a death of a relative.

Esther's is not for two weeks.

And usually we light these candles in mourning,

but this time,

it will be in celebration.

Perhaps there's someone you want to honor?

My father.

Yees'gadal ve'yees'kadash sh'may rabbah.

B'alma dee v'ra cheer'usey,

velyamleech malchu'say.

♪ B'cha'yey'chon ♪

♪ U've'yo'mey'chon ♪

♪ U'v'cha'yei d'chol Beis Yisroel ♪

♪ Ba'agala ba'agala ♪

♪ U'veez'man kareev ♪

♪ V'eem'ru: Amein. ♪