All language subtitles for The.Alienist.S01E02.720p.WEBRip.x264-TBS (No-HI)

My name is Dr. Kreizler.

Can you tell me what you saw?

Giorgio Santorelli.

He's a boy-whore,
worked out of Paresis Hall.

Sara. Get me the file
on the Zweig case.

We need your help.

The boy
was a patient of mine.

An unsolved case.

Both my children are dead.

Because of you.

Look at anything
that may connect Benjamin Zweig

to the Santorelli boy.

I must follow this
wherever it goes.

Even if it leads me
to the darkest pit of Hell.

Are many children brought here?

We only get the poor ones.

It's the poorest children
I'm interested in.

Specifically homicides.

Plenty of those, too.

There may also have been
removal

of the organs and body parts.

Grave robbers
are still more common

than we would like.
No, not grave robbers.

These mutilations would have
served no medical purpose...

like the removal of the tongue.

Leviticus...

Deuteronomy...

Proverbs.

Proverbs.

I beg your pardon?

You wear no sign
of your faith, Doctor,

yet you men of science insist
you're not in opposition to God.

You insist you are God.

I insist no such thing.

I'll ask you again:

Do you have experience
of corpses

in which the tongue
was removed?

No.

But if it's the boy-whore
from the bridge,

I'd say he had it coming.

Shut her up, Doyle!

Wait.

Don't be showin' your face
no more around 300 Mulberry,

you dumb guinea bastard.

Anyone comes to see
the Santorelli family,

you tell 'em
you ain't seen nothin'.

This here's a warning,
Mr. Santorelli.

You keep your dirty dago nose
out of police business, eh?

Captain.

'Tis surely
more pleasant on the eyes

to have a woman on the premises,
isn't it, Sergeant Doyle?

Ah, 'tis.

Miss Howard.

Would the commissioner
be about?

He's attending disciplinary
hearings this afternoon.

Right, well,
I just wanted to let him know...

The Santorellis,
they didn't have much to add

by the way of facts to
the killin' of their poor boy.

So don't hardly seem necessary

to make any further inquiry...

along those lines.

Is there anything else?

Beggin' your pardon.

Eyelash.

Huh.

Go on, blow.

Bring you luck.

Hm.

Make sure you tell the
commissioner what I told you.

I don't think
you've quite captured

the line of her jaw,
Mr. Moore.

Hm.

There.

The resemblance
now seems more correct.

Mm.

Oh. Hello.

Connor's been
to see the Santorellis.

Does Roosevelt know?

He's not in.

But I want to go talk to them.

But you're employed
as a typewriter.

I prefer the term "secretary,"

but I have good reason
for wanting to involve myself.

You'll not be welcome
in that part

of the neighborhood, you know.

I may only be a secretary,

but I do work
for the police department.

Oh, the riffraff
won't care about that.

Which is why I'll need you
to accompany me.

They won't care
about that either.

Are you saying you're afraid?

Whoa, whoa.

Whoa.

Does Roosevelt
know you're doing this?

When it comes
to the commissioner,

I find it sometimes better
to ask forgiveness

rather than permission.

Oh, my God.
A baby.

Sara, I wouldn't touch it.

These children
are often diseased.

Poor thing.

Where's your mother?

Where's your mother?

Mrs. Santorelli.

Prego, prego.

Il dotorre.

She thinks you're a doctor.

She called for one hours ago.

What should I do?

I don't know.
Pretend.

Can you tell us about the men
who did this to your father?

Aspetta, mamma.
Aspetta.

Two was cops.

The other was some Holy Joe.

What did they say?

They say Giorgio died in sin,

that it was better
for the family

if we keep our mouths shut.

Calma, calma!

Calma, mamma.

Calma.

I can't make out
what she's saying.

She talks about my brother.

Giorgio wasn't
like the other boys.

Papa, he beat Giorgio.
He call him a girl.

That's why he ran away.

She say police say
Giorgio is the same

as the other boys
who were killed.

Nobody care.

Other boys?

Let me try that one.

That looks good.

Look.
The same knife marks.

We'll take this one.

Thinking about becoming
a socialist now, are you?

You know the difference
between capitalism

and socialism?

No.

In capitalism,
man exploits man.

In socialism,
it's the other way around.

Hyah! Go on!

Giddyup there.

Every night, Dr. Kreizler,
every night, she touches.

The priest say she needs
ice bath and leeches.

Leeches?

The priest say
the devil is in her mind.

That's why I bring her to you.

Mrs. Rajk,
there is nothing wrong

with your daughter's mind.

You're becoming
a young woman.

And there's not a thing
your mother nor any priest

can do about it.

1, 2, 3, 4.

Hmm?

1, 2, 3, 4.

The body's the temple of the Holy Spirit.
1, 2, 3, 4.

It is a blessed gift not to be
defiled by lust. 1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

Yes, I, too, learned
Scripture when I was young.

But instead of answers,
I found only questions.

Why does God allow us to feel
both pleasure and pain?

Why has he given
a young girl like Berthe

impulses and desires

she cannot begin
to fathom or control?

4... Is this the God
of who we speak?

This is a sanctuary
for the young.

I will not tolerate
its trespass,

neither by man, nor by God.

Now, please, remove yourselves
from the premises.

Excuse me, Detective.

The commissioner
is looking for some files

of unresolved cases.

Homicides.

Where might I find them?

The old dogs.
I beg your pardon?

Unsolved cases.

They keep barkin' at you
from the files

like old dogs.

Woof. Woof.

I see.

In there.

I know.

There were other murdered boys.

As I suspected at the morgue.

Who were they?

The Negro boy's identity
was unknown.

The other boy
was named Aaron Morton.

I found a brief mention
of him in the Herald

about a month ago.

He worked at a brothel
called Shang Draper's.

He was killed
like the Santorelli boy

and his body hidden
on the Brooklyn Bridge.

It's imperative
that we examine them

to see if there's a connection.

Impossible.

The Negro morgue on Bleecker

burns the remains
of anyone left unclaimed.

And I could find no family,
which means Aaron Morton

was probably buried
in Potter's Field.

But that's not all of it.

The files of both boys
were kept hidden.

I found them only by chance.

There could well be others.

This information
is invaluable, Miss Howard.

Thank you.

Is Roosevelt aware
of what you've done?

No.

Have you plans tonight?

Yes.

If I have a carriage
sent 'round at 9:00,

can your plans be altered?

Is that a request
or a command, Doctor?

As you like it, Miss Howard.

Let me help you.

Thank you, Mary.

What else did you learn
about Santorelli?

His brother said
that he was "different."

Different?

I had the distinct impression
that other boys

found Giorgio
in some manner effete or,

well, inclined toward
contrary sexual instinct.

Being effete and being inclined

toward
a contrary sexual instinct

are two different things.

Now, was the boy
one or the other?

Or was he both the former
and the latter?

I'm sure I don't know.

All his brother said
was that Giorgio

was different from the other
boys and that he'd run away.

Was he beaten?

What boy isn't in that
godforsaken part of the city?

Two more boys murdered.

He needs to feed his hunger
like an addict.

He can't go very long
without killing again.

Come closer, child.

What's wrong with your mouth?

Hey! Hey!

Tell me about Miss Howard.

I'll tell you about Miss Howard

if you tell me
where we're going.

I've noticed
she wears a man's signet ring.

Why do you take such pleasure

in keeping everyone
in the dark about your plans?

Hmm?

The ring was her father's.

A rather sad situation.

A hunting accident, or at least
that was the official story.

The rumors were that
he died by his own hand.

How old was she?
12.

At the time,
she was sent to a sanitarium.

She'd lost her mother
when she was still quite young.

Perhaps you should measure
her skull

to see how it affected her.

Have you interest in her?

Good God, Laszlo. I've known
her since she was a child.

She's no longer a child.

I've not thought of her
in that way.

Certainly you have.

No, Tessie.

I'll not wear an evening dress

as I have no need
to flatter myself.

Will there be
gentlemen present?

I should say, rather, there
will be colleagues present.

Colleagues are gentlemen, too.

All the more reason
to make an impression.

Who's that
sitting with Roosevelt?

You mean to tell me
you don't recognize

the mayor of New York City?

That's Mayor Strong?

Mm-hmm.

My God, he's aged.

Hm.

His family grows by the day.

What are you talking about?

J.P. Morgan.

Every beautiful young lady
he's seen with

claims to be his niece.

Poor Roosevelt.

He dislikes the opera
as much as you do.

Hm. Doubtful.

Don't wait up for us
tonight, Mama.

We have police business.

She means you stink like
a 10-cent whore.

How would you know?

Mommy?

Hmm?

That's not tonight, Mama.

Is it over?

Intermezzo.

Thank you.

Very well. I shall be forced
to drink for two.

Mayor Strong.

It's wonderful
to see you again.

You're looking well, sir.

Thank you.

I'm Dr. Kreizler.

The alienist?

Good evening, Commissioner.

- Good evening, Mr. Roosevelt.
- Robert.

- Theodore.
- Tom.

Good
evening, Commissioner.

I need something from you.

Examination of the Zweig boy
revealed serrations

on the malar bone and
supraorbital ridge of both eyes.

Someone cut his eyes out
with a knife.

This is neither the time
nor the place

to discuss the postmortem
of a child.

I shouldn't even be seen
talking to you.

It was no scavenger
that left those marks,

and if I were a betting man,

- I'd wager rather a large sum...
- Good evening, Commissioner.

On the probability
that the same marks

will be present on the eye
sockets of Giorgio Santorelli.

That will be determined
by the coroner.

That may well take months,
if ever.

And it's two more boys
of the lower classes

have recently be murdered,

although your police seem
to be more concerned

with covering up the crimes
than finding the perpetrator.

How did you come by
this knowledge?

That I cannot tell you.

Even if I wanted to,

I cannot allow you
access to the body,

as it's still
in police custody.

Your Isaacson brothers
have proven themselves

more than capable.

T.R.

J.P. Mm.

Damn it, Kreizler.

In addition,
I shall require a liaison

who will provide information

from within
the police department

without revealing
their connection to me.

Are you suggesting
you should be allowed

to conduct
a parallel investigation?

Yes.

Your secretary, Miss Howard,
is perfectly placed.

Please, enjoy
the rest of your evening.

Thank you.

Good to see you again.

Thank you.

Thank you.

All right.

Let go!

Thank you.

How are you?

Are you perchance waiting
for Dr. Kreizler?

Yes, I am.

I'm Detective Sergeant
Marcus Isaacson.

This is my brother.

Detective Sergeant
Lucius Isaacson.

I'm Sara Howard.

I work
for Commissioner Roosevelt.

You're here to take notes?

Frankly, I don't know
why I'm here.

My apologies
for the lateness of our arrival.

Charlie, you may let
Monsieur Ranhofer

know we are ready.

A toast.

To the beginning
of a fruitful partnership.

I don't think
the wine is kosher.

I thought we'd start
with a terrapin soup au clair.

One of the specialties
of the house.

I hope no one minds serious
conversation while we eat,

but I believe it's best
to get a running start.

Well, perhaps you could tell us

what exactly we're getting
a running start at.

Oh, my.

I've gotten ahead of myself,
haven't I?

Of course.

I should explain.

Perhaps if we begin,

your intentions
will become self-explanatory.

Please.

We've already made
Dr. Kreizler aware

of the results of our
examination of the Zweig boy.

The torso was grossly violated

while the eyes were carefully
plucked from their sockets.

Gentlemen.

There is a lady present.

Oh, enough, John.

I am perfectly capable
of hearing

whatever it is
that needs to be said.

Hm.
Continue, please.

Thus, we asked ourselves,
"What instrument

might be found capable of both
cutting muscles and tendons

and prying eyeballs
from their sockets?"

Behold, the Arkansas Toothpick.

The blade
is strong enough to cause

the wounds
the boy suffered to his torso.

But finely weighted to
delicately remove his eyes.

Come on.

Huh! Hyah!

Let's eat.

You been grooming them horses,
mucking out those stables,

and touching
your own private self.

Clean your hands
before you eat.

I don't know why I have
to keep telling you that.

Gentlemen,
you've done fine work.

But there may well be thousands
of Arkansas Toothpicks about,

even in New York City.

Which is
why we have something

that may prove
infinitely more useful.

Dactyloscopy.

The science of a finger, palm,

or foot
leaving a chance impression.

The one on the left is mine.

And the one on the right
is mine.

And yet we're twins.

Fraternal.

Hmm.

There are those, including
the majority of our colleagues

in the police department,
who do not accept finger-marks

as evidence, but the science
behind it has...

It has been proved reliable.

I've read about this.

Isn't it surmised
that a person's finger-marks

do not change
throughout their lifetime

and that each is unique?

Precisely.
However, certain conditions

must be met
in order to preserve them.

And bodies immersed in water
like the Zweigs

would not meet
those conditions.

Indeed not, but we found this.

A bloody finger-mark left
on the back of this timepiece.

We discovered the trinket

within the Zweig boy's
burial suit.

Their file referenced it.

It was found on the roof
near the water tank, wasn't it?

And thus spared degradation.

A person leaving
a finger-mark such as this

might as well drop
a monogrammed handkerchief.

And so he did.

Who?

You talk about him
as if you know him.

We don't yet know him, John.

But we will.

We may not know his name
or where he lives,

but he exists in plain sight.

Though evidence
does not immediately reveal him,

there are hints and indications
to his identity

that he's unwittingly
left behind.

Now, our task is to gather
those hints and indications

to construct
an image of the man...

his age, his background,
his habits,

but most importantly,
his appetites.

Look at who his victims are,

where he commits his crimes,
and what exactly he does to them

until a pattern
begins to emerge.

Each and every one
of the choices he makes

will reveal a hidden aspect
of his alienated mind.

And there's one more thing.

We know the killer's conscious
thoughts are fixed on violence.

If we get too close,

that violence might well
spill over onto us.

You're not asking Sara

to join this mad escapade
of yours, are you?

It will put her
in a most compromised position.

Look at the beasts that
surround her on a daily basis.

I believe she's up to the task.

She's not as strong
as she'd like you to believe.

John, please.

Do not let your affection
for Miss Howard

get in the way of logic.

My affection?!

My God.

Do you never tire
of the sound of your own voice?

Miss Howard is resourceful.
She's loyal to Roosevelt.

And because she's a woman, she's
unlikely to arouse suspicion.

That is quite sufficient
for my purposes.

And what is my role to be
in all of this?

Perhaps you've
already played it.

It's something new.

Forensic science
married with human psychology.

One might easily imagine
the ramifications

if we are successful.

I rather like it.

Miss Howard.

- Miss Howard.
- Gentlemen.

May I offer you a ride?
No, thank you, Doctor.

Please go on without us.
Very well.

Good evening, men.
Good evening.

John.
Are you coming with us?

I'd prefer to walk.

At this hour?

I'm not a child.

He's had too much to drink.

He was offered a ride.

Perhaps
you might have insisted.

A little resentment and
introspection will do him good.

He's not as strong
as he'd like you to think.

You find that amusing?

Our weaknesses
sometimes serve us

better than our strengths.

I'm surprised to hear
you admit you've a weakness.

I was speaking metaphorically.

- Stevie!
- Yes, sir?

Run along
and keep an eye on Mr. Moore.

You bet.

Let's go, boys.
Let's go.

The working man, woman,

and, all too often,
the working child

are, in effect,
the slaves of America.

We call on all honest citizens
to unite beneath the banner

of the Socialist Labor Party
of America...

That we may make use
of our political liberty

and bring an end to
the current barbarous struggle

of the oppressed.

Evening.

- This emancipation...
- Yes.

Is not only possible...
It is inevitable,

since all we need do
to move forward in equality

is to stand together now
in unity.

Pardon my candidness,
but I feel I must ask.

Did you have this evening
entirely planned?

What exactly do you mean
by "entirely"?

That we... I...

would agree to assist you.

Aside from the job
of scrubbing floors,

you're the first woman employed

by the New York
Police Department.

That shows initiative

and a desire to advance
your place in society.

Am I mistaken?

No.

I've asked the commissioner

for you to be
the liaison between us.

Your task will be
to keep me informed

of developments
within the department

and keep Roosevelt abreast
of our actions outside.

And he agreed?

Perhaps not in so many words.

Come on, boy.

Whoa.

Steady.

May I assume
you have an interest?

It wouldn't be fair to assume
anything about me, Doctor.

You look lovely this evening,
Miss Howard.

Cyrus.

Please see Miss Howard
to the door.

Yes, sir.

I can see myself in, thank you.

What did you say your name was?

Esther.
And you?

Marcus.

Nice to meet you.

Likewise.

Heads up!

Yeah, sir, this will
literally cure psoriasis.

Tie!
Fine ties!

Good ties!

Ladies and gentlemen...

take repose
on this beautiful settee.

Step right up.

Come here, son.

- Bravo!
- Yay!

Bravo!

That was pretty!

That's what I said!

Good evening... sir.

If you don't ask questions,
I don't give answers.

Manners.

- I like you.
- I like you.

You aren't the same
as the other guys.

No, I'm not.

So, what's your price?

What's your price?

Now, we've all kind
of entertainment here, friend.

A little pleasure?

Would
you like to dance?

What do you fancy?

I need a drink.

I'm seeking information.

I want to know about
Giorgio Santorelli.

Hm.

And why should
I tell you anything

- I ain't already told the cops?
- He's so picky.

Because it could happen again.

Another one of your girls
could disappear,

and her dismembered body

unceremoniously dumped
in some lonely venue.

There's only so many times

the police
can look the other way.

All right.

What do you want to know?

Who saw the boy?

What type of clients were they?

What were their predilections?

The boy had
a filthy mouth on him.

His regulars liked to hear
how worthless they were,

how they didn't measure up.

You Fifth Avenue swells
don't suffer enough.

Gotta come here
and pay me for it.

But you should stick around.

You look like
you might enjoy yourself.

Come on.

Don't be shy.

My name is Sally,

and I can make
all your dreams come true.

Hey.
Over here.

How about I pay you $3

and you tell me what you know
about Giorgio Santorelli?

$5.

No, no, no.

Tell me about Giorgio.

Gloria.

She had lots of regulars.

Some very nice ones.

Some very rich ones.

She only talked about the one
with the silver smile, though.

Silver smile?

What was his name?

Do you know?

You're not very fun.

In fact, you're no fun at all.

Did she leave with him
that night?

The one with the silver smile?

Gloria never left her room.

We heard her in there,
but she never came out.

We got tired of waiting.

When we broke the lock,
there was no sign of her.

There was no sign of anybody.

It was
a three-story drop.

And Gloria didn't have wings.

You're lying.

You're lying.

Even without wings,
Gloria flew away.

And someday I will, too.

Is that...

Ain't that sweet?

You know who he is?

Hm.
I seen him before.

He's a friend of Roosevelt

and that alienist
son of a bitch.

This is an unfortunate
situation, gentlemen.

I'm afraid it's gonna force us
to take actions of our own.

What do you wanna do with him?

Come on in, girls.