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Well, at last.
Right, let’s get going then.
Nah, we’re going in through the back.
Come on, then.
Let’s show them who we are.
Smoke them out, those red nests.
This way.
What’s the matter, Strelow?
Filthy bastards.
Hey!
Saw nothing, heard nothing.
That’s odd.
Strange.
Uncharacteristic.
Well, then we’ll just have to do without Inspector Rath, for better or worse.
Would you please summarise the findings
in the Dr Forster case, Miss Charlotte?
Are these the documents that were seized from him?
Yes. Mhm.
Please.
Yesterday at 12.15 pm, our colleagues from Section 5 rang.
Prior to that, an anonymous caller claimed to
have seen Dr Forster fleeing the crime scene.
They followed up on the lead and subsequently
reported a death to me at Kurfürstendamm 201.
Dr Edmund Forster runs a practice there
specialising in psychiatry and neurology.
Forster’s receptionist, Miss Sibylle Nachtwey, was
found dead in the private section of the practice.
Death resulting from external violence.
A page is missing
here – 30 January.
Strange.
The day of the murder.
Please pass this round.
The case looks pretty clear-cut.
A young woman, scantily clad in bed.
The doctor flees the scene in a panic.
We haven’t found any evidence linking
Dr Forster directly to the crime scene.
Last night, Rath and I were at the Press Ball.
Why?
Privately.
We were there in a private capacity.
And was Dr Forster there as well?
Yes.
Gräf and I caught a glimpse of him for a moment.
A comparison with the police sketch leaves no room for doubt.
Just a moment later, he’d vanished again.
Just like Inspector Rath.
Poof.
We’ve searched everywhere. Again today.
Inside and out. - Upstairs and downstairs.
No sign of Rath. - Or Forster.
He didn’t turn up all night.
Very well.
As long as we don’t hear anything from
Rath, you’ll continue to lead the
investigation into the Forster and Nachtwey case.
Forster’s home is under surveillance and
his wife has been summoned to the surgery.
Good.
You two go through the diary thoroughly.
Appointments, phone calls and so on.
So, this missing page on the day of the murder
That seems to be an important clue.
A meeting with the murderer
seems to me to be the key.
Yes, it really does seem that way.
It’s the sun that’s shining.
They’re investigating to see if they can find anything useful.
Of course. - Thank you.
Is that all?
No.
No? Then please go on.
This morning,
the bodies of an SA man and a police constable were found on Cheruskerstraße.
I’m aware of that.
We pass on cases like this to the Political Police.
At first glance, it looks like a political case.
But we have an initial report from the ID.
According to this, the SA man,
Paul Strelow, was killed with a knife.
Our colleague, police officer Hoffmann,
on the other hand, was strangled.
We can therefore assume there were at least two perpetrators.
As there is also a great deal of outrage here over his death,
I think we should investigate this case.
There’s something in that.
Arrange for the case to be taken over from the Political Affairs Department, Mr Böhm.
It has already been done.
Thank you.
Thank you. Let’s get to work.
Miss Ritter?
I need to pick something up.
May I help you? Yes.
Thank you.
What do you want? - I’m supposed to report for duty.
Why? - I’m supposed to start here. In the archives.
And why didn’t you say so straight away?
Name?
Doris. - Any more?
Przybyszewski.
What’s your name?
Przybyszewski.
I’ll spell it out.
Paula, Richard, Zacharias, Ypsilon, Bernhard, Ypsilon, Samuel,
Zacharias, Emil, Wilhelm, Samuel, Katharina, Ida?
Yes.
I wasn’t quite sure.
Przybylski.
Przybylski.
Paula, Richard, Zacharias, Ypsilon,
Bernhard, Ypsilon, Ludwig, Samuel, Katharina, Ida?
Just say it as you’d pronounce it.
Come along, Miss Przybyszewski.
This is where we record the speeches.
We call it ‘recording’, that’s what we call it.
Against the dictatorship.
There’s a direct link here to the microphones
in the plenary chamber, which only we can access.
We document and archive all speeches round the clock.
Each record holds 3 minutes 30 seconds.
At 3 minutes 25 seconds, now …
the second turntable needs to be switched on.
Is that clear?
The first record is Part 1, the second is Part 2, and so on.
This is where you’ll be working, Miss Przybyszewski.
Doris.
And this is how you archive the speeches.
The date and time are recorded on the disc.
And that gives you the archive number.
Then you insert the disc into the debate file ...
and store the file ... in the correct place.
Here, you enter the time
and place the card in the filing cabinet.
Right.
Well then.
Good luck.
Thank you, Mr Przybylski.
Harry.
Why are the Hitlerites so sure they’ll win the snap elections?
They might say:
‘Now that we’re in power, we’re not giving it back.’
Not with the current distribution of seats in the Reichstag.
They certainly don’t have a majority, God knows.
- And certainly not among the people. - May God hear your words.
I reckon there’s a bigger party on the way.
With warmest congratulations from Gustl as well, Mr Editor-in-Chief.
Thanks, Franzi.
Oh, Katelbach, please. What on earth is this?
I’m not really in the mood for celebrating right now.
Who knows how many more opportunities we’ll
have to enjoy the Austrian Sachertorte at Gustl’s.
That’s at least four slices per person.
Not ‘at least’.
Exactly four pieces per person.
That makes exactly twelve pieces of equal size, just as in the original.
Hold on!
What’s going on?
If the left-wing parties were to join
forces, as emergency allies, so to speak,
what percentage would they have between them?
The Communists and the Social Democrats?
That doesn’t add up. They’re sworn enemies.
But the balance of power
might still make it possible.
So, in the last election in
November, what percentage did the NSDAP get?
33.1 per cent.
So, a good third of the pie for the Brownshirts.
That’s four slices.
And how much did the SPD get?
20.4 per cent.
That’s more than two, let’s say three slices.
And the KPD, how much did they get?
16.9 per cent.
- Two more. - Two.
That makes a total of...
37.3.
Or five.
More than the Nazis.
Yes, Katelbach, but these two parties – or slices of
the pie, if you like – don’t even talk to one another.
Well, then we’ll just have to change that.
Why did I put the slices together, then?
We have to make sure that the SPD and the KPD join forces.
A united front of the left?
If you want to call it that. - Impossible.
- But it would be worth a try. - Yes.
You talk to the Communists and
you talk to the Social Democrats.
No, I’ve got a newspaper to run, all over again every day.
No chance.
You do it, Katelbach.
But to build up the necessary
pressure, I suggest, as I said, a joint appeal
the intellectual elite of this country.
Here you are, please.
Don’t you want anything?
Not the Nazi plate.
Yes, not bad, but …
But?
Perhaps it needs a bit of fine-tuning.
That’s why we’re here, after all.
My husband used to have long spells of
nervousness and insomnia from time to time.
But I’d never seen him like this before.
There’s a private area at the back.
He used to stay there when his work required it.
The young woman we found in
bed, Sibylle Nachtwey … Yes.
Did you know her?
Sibylle was the daughter of my oldest friend.
She was wearing nothing but a nightdress.
Why was she staying here?
She lost her flat at the start of December.
She was due to move in February.
We’ve found something delightful in Friedenau.
Did you have any reservations about your husband
and Sibylle Nachtwey spending a few nights together?
Listen.
That attack was aimed at my husband, not poor Sibylle.
What makes you think that?
“We must succeed in uniting all forces
that are united in their rejection of fascism.
The next opportunity to do so is 5 March.”
Last, the very last opportunity.
Very good.
And now the addendum.
“We appeal to everyone …”
The urgent appeal.
The urgent …
“The urgent appeal to help ensure that the SPD
joins forces with the KPD in this election campaign.”
Full stop.
No, an exclamation mark.
- Strong. - Very strong.
This needs to be put up on every advertising column throughout the city.
That’s what I reckon.
So, who do we want as signatories?
The more prominent, the better.
This all has to do with his time in the military hospital.
He was afraid of that period, afraid of his past.
But he wasn’t allowed to talk about what he’d been through.
And neither am I.
The military hospital where your husband…
Pasewalk, west of Stettin.
But you won’t find anything there now.
Where then?
The relevant lines have been underlined by my husband.
And finally, the branch.
Stefan or Arnold?
Arnold. – Stefan.
Arnold. Right.
I’ll sort out the approval from the authorities.
Pay up, please. – No. Please. No, no.
Mr Heymann, surely you’re not going to pay for your own birthday cake.
All right then, I’ll do it.
Franzi, could you give the lad the bill?
I’d be happy to, Mr Katelbach.
- Oh! - What?
Yes, hurry up, Laudon!
We’d better slip out the back.
I’m not going to sneak out like a coward.
If you want our
appeal to see the
light of day, then follow us.
See you tomorrow.
You go right, the two of us will go left. - All right.
See you tomorrow. - Good luck.
An appeal to the German people.
Over 14 years have passed since that ill-fated day
when, blinded by internal and external promises,
the German people relinquished the greatest
treasures of our past: the Reich, its honour and its freedom
and lost everything in the process.
Ever since those days of betrayal,
the Almighty has withdrawn His blessing from our people.
With the deepest sorrow, millions of the finest
German men and women from all walks of life are
watching the unity of the nation sink into ruin and
dissolve into a tangle of politically self-serving opinions ...
... presenting the revolution with a picture of heart-rending disunity.
We did not receive the promised equality and fraternity,
but we have lost our freedom.
True to the Field Marshal’s command,
let us begin.
May Almighty God take our work into His
grace, guide our will aright, bless our
judgement and grant us the trust of our people.
Now, German people,
Give us four years, and then judge and condemn us!
For we do not wish to fight for ourselves,
but for Germany!
ID, watch, remove jewellery.
Empty your bags.
Remove ID, jewellery and watch.
Bags empty?
Whatever you’re doing,
it’s completely illegal.
And you’ll be held to account for it.
- Oh really? - Oh yes.
Have a look.
‘Urgent appeal’, I see, I see.
Off to the dark cell.
Heymann? Oh God!
This is an outrage.
Hello?
- Quiet. Quiet. - Where’s the night watchman?
Just a moment.
Oh.
Detective Superintendent, please excuse the disturbance.
I wanted to speak to you before the others arrive.
Good morning, Miss Charlotte.
Good morning.
Has Inspector Rath turned up?
Not yet, anyway. But that’s not the point.
I’d like to freshen up a bit first.
Of course. And it wouldn’t go
amiss if I could have a bite
to eat to get my thoughts moving.
Have you had breakfast yet, Miss Charlotte, or is
that no longer the done thing in your generation?
Of course. Good.
Then please pop over to Dobrin’s and get us something.
Yes. They’ll know what I’d like.
Good. By the time you’re back, I
might even have something on my
neck again that could be called a face.
I’ll sort out the coffee. Yes.
Good morning.
So early?
And the …
Your … No.
Inspector Rath isn’t back yet.
And you? At this time of day, then?
Pathology.
At least you can get an appointment at this time.
Yes.
I hear the new bloke’s a bit of a character.
Mhm.
Have you heard anything from Mr Heymann?
Not you either?
Right, thanks all the same, then? Goodbye.
What, not at home either? - Apparently not.
Not at his mistress’s either.
When did you part ways yesterday?
At four in the afternoon. After Mutzbauer.
Heymann went right towards Litten, and I went the other way.
I’ll ring Dr Litten. - That’s a good idea.
Right, go on then.
Towards the end of the war,
Dr Forster had a well-known patient. A prominent figure, you might say.
Well, a very prominent one.
Who?
Oh dear.
May I?
Go ahead.
Hitler was admitted in October 1918
to the military hospital in Pasewalk.
He was reportedly blinded during a gas attack.
In his book
he describes his time in the military hospital as “a dark interlude”.
He describes his recovery from blindness
as “a tour de force of his own steely will,
in order, in this darkest hour of the German Empire,
"to live for a new goal."
The last sentence: "But I decided to become a politician."
Yes, I’m aware of that.
I can’t open a newspaper these days without reading this story.
Hitler doesn’t mention Dr Forster with a single word.
Does that surprise you?
No, because …
do you know what Dr Forster’s area of expertise was there?
Give me a hint.
In Pasewalk, Dr Forster ran the military hospital for those
suffering from war-induced tremors and shaking neurosis.
Are there any records of this?
All records relating to the military
hospitals are held at the Central Army Archives in Karlshorst.
Presumably including those of Adolf Hitler.
But to view them,
I would need an official letter from you.
The political context is, after all, obvious.
It would then be a case for the Political Division.
Detective Superintendent,
Inspector Rath’s disappearance is probably linked to that of Dr Forster.
If Government Councillor Wendt gets his hands on the case,
I don’t believe there’ll be an impartial resolution.
You don’t need to convince me of that.
Give it a go.
Thank you.
Now let’s hear what the new chap has to say.
Very well,
let’s get straight to the point.
The political situation calls for immediate action.
In keeping with our new government’s approach,
I shall implement the new political approaches without hesitation.
The era of democratic missteps is behind us.
Here too!
Here too.
I shall devote all my energy to,
that peace and order prevail in this city.
To this end, as of today,
we shall deploy 5,000 new national forces.
And with these men, we shall set
a shining example to the people of our Reich capital!
Fear no one,
but God alone.
Heil Hitler!
Heil Hitler!
Now for the implementation.
The staff are being allocated... Where on earth is Gräf?
No idea. - ... and kitted out.
Mr Gräf. - Good morning.
Do you have an appointment? - No, but I have a question.
Go ahead.
I haven’t received Dr Forster’s report.
He can’t be found at the moment.
Dr Forster has gone missing, yes, we’re aware of that.
Could you perhaps ask Dr Hirschfeld whether
it’s possible to do this without an expert report…
Well…
whether it’s possible without an expert report?
If the situation here doesn’t change
quickly, Dr Hirschfeld won’t be coming back.
And all this?
Then we’d all have to go to him in Zurich.
Excuse me, is this the Missing Persons Unit?
That way. - Thank you.
And keep moving. Come on!
Next! Use the other counters as well.
Next!
Grab your weapon and move on!
Excuse me, do you file all missing persons reports here?
Yes.
Karlshorst Archive here, Grundmann speaking.
Detective Inspector Ritter, Police Headquarters.
Are you calling about a patient’s file?
Yes, that’s correct. With us, is it?
I’ve already told you all that.
Hang on a moment, wait. Yes, I’m waiting.
Sturmführer Döbrich,
here to assist the Homicide Department.
Where is the most senior officer?
The Chief Inspector does not wish to be disturbed.
Hey, hang on a moment.
Heil Hitler.
Sturmführer Döbrich, reporting for duty.
Would you like a slice of cake?
No, thank you.
Please take a seat, Mr Döbrich.
I’d rather stand, Inspector.
Detective Superintendent.
How can I help?
I see. I thought as much.
Miss, can you hear me? Yes.
It’s no longer possible to access patient records here.
Over and out.
It’s not that bad.
If it doesn’t work out now, it’ll work out another time.
Yes? – Fred.
Here comes another cheeky couple.
Nothing can happen to you.
ID, if you don’t mind.
The artists.
That’s fine.
Well, we’re looking forward to seeing that, aren’t we?
Gräf, Reinhold.
Born 1 October 1999. — Just a moment, please.
Here.
You should be familiar with this document?
Mhm. We are.
Transvestite certificate from Hirschfeld.
This certificate allows him to wear a dress.
Mhm.
Born in Dommersleben, Anhalt.
- Where does he live? - 9 Torfstraße.
Wedding?
He’s a communist as well.
Being a gay bloke isn’t enough, I suppose.
You’re not legally allowed to take action against me.
This isn’t causing a public nuisance.
I’m allowed to wear a dress.
For now… you’re allowed to.
For now.
Right, now off you go to the other
side, you two warm-blooded brothers.
There you are!
The police are at the door.
- Still? - Yes, unfortunately.
Sorry, but there’s a bit of a problem.
What? - What?
Mary.
- No. - Got a cold?
- Worse than that. - Dead?
Not quite that bad. She’s run off to Paris.
Just now.
We need a replacement, straight away.
Do you know anyone?
Maybe.
Let me make a call.
Yes, please? Fred here.
When are you going to find another pub?
Why?
You and your lot are ruining everything here.
Calm down, Fred.
As you can see, I like coming here.
Do you really think Hitler’ll let you get away with that?
He eats out of the back of my hand.
– Oh, really? – Yes.
Because I do his dirty work for him.
But let’s forget about that, today’s a night for celebrating!
Miss? – Mrs.
My apologies. It’s a compliment.
You look fantastic.
What would you like to drink?
That one.
I’ve found a replacement for Mary.
Reinhold, let’s go round the back.
The air’s suddenly turning so brown.
Brown air? Hold on, what’s that all about?
Instead of focusing on what we have in common, we always emphasise what divides us, don’t we?
Where’s your sense of humour? Jacoby!
Your new Chancellor, he’s spoiling my fun.
Come on, sit down for a moment!
Please.
We’re just trying to get things back on track.
We make our mistakes, yes, but life goes on, doesn’t it?
Does it?
Look at it this way: have I let you spoil
my mood for the last 15 years just
because you and your Social Democratic
lot have been pursuing your hypocritical policies?
You lost the workers and the destitute long ago.
I used to whinge: ‘Oh no, those socialists!
So nasty, them and their hack
journalists; the country’s ruled by Jews,
armchair communists and traitors to the fatherland.
’ Have you ever heard me talk like that? Never!
I came here, to the Mikado Bar.
And I partied with you lot.
With the whole gay crowd from Berlin.
Charlotte. Fred.
What’s going on?
We’ve had an emergency and we need your help.
Ah. Reinhold will explain it to you. Come on.
...the purple song!
Reinhold. I’ve absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do.
Well, dance. Do you know the song?
It’s not my first time here. - Well, let’s go then.
Shall I introduce you? Mhm, alright.
Ladies and gentlemen,
dear night-owls,
Please join me in
welcoming, making his
stage debut in Berlin: Carlo Cavaliere!
It’s his first time.
So…
Bear with him.
Edgar.
What’s up?
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