All language subtitles for the-alienist-s02e05-720p1080p-web-h264-metcon

Memento mori.

Remembrances of death.

The eyes transform
to something more disturbed.

You deserve someone like me.

I asked you to marry me.

You said no, if you recall.

I'm an alienist.

As am I.

Karen Stratton.

There is always a trail,

no matter
the criminal's stealth.

247 Hudson Street.

Goo Goo owns that place.

We believe
the kidnapper is a woman.

I think the best plan
is that someone goes

into the Lying-In Hospital
undercover.

There's no babies up there.

They tell the women up there
they all had stillborns.

- Libby.
- Oh, my.

It's quite the armory
you have here.

A legacy from my father.

You saw who took your baby?

Yes. I saw her face.

The killer is a person
in great pain.

- Well, whoever they are...
they will kill again.

Oh. I was looking for Marie.

- Illness in the family.
She's gone to take care.

I'm so sorry to hear that.

Now is not a good time,
I'm afraid.

Oh, you have a child!

- I think it's her teatime.
Good-bye.

I'll tell her you stopped in.

Oh.

My poor girl. There, there.

Good girl.

Come here.

Shh.

Ah, there you go.

There you go.

Ow.

Stop!

Stop. Stop.

No.

No, stop, stop, stop.

My... my baby...
My baby doesn't bite.

This is all your fault.

Stop looking at me,
you stupid thing.

Stupid, stupid.

You stupid thing.

I never meant to put you
in harm's way

for a case, Bitsy.

Where do you think she is now?

Libby?

No one knows.

She gave me a real fright,

even before I saw the syringe
in her hand.

When she smiled,
she had black teeth.

Like in the Napp baby's mouth?

Do you remember anything else
that could help us find her?

I'll have John work on a sketch.

The photograph
from Central Park is unclear,

but it might be sufficient.

Get some rest.

I'll be by to see you later.

Sara.

There's another photo.

Do we reopen the Napp case?

Absolutely not.

The appearance
of another suspect

only affirms
what we already knew:

Martha Napp had an abettor.

Now the larger matter.

Regarding the privacy
of our benefactors.

Sara Howard isn't interested
in that.

All she cares about
is the Spanish baby.

Yeah, but we have to assume
that she knows,

that her little
undercover assistant told her

about the research wing.

We're here to protect names
and reputations.

Yes?

That's what we're here for, yes?

I need to be clear
on something, Markoe.

I'm in service
to this institution

because I think that helping
poor, unfortunate women

and their innocent children
to be a noble undertaking.

Well, I'm grateful
you recognize the value

of our charitable work here.

You have a holy ethos here, yes?

We do.

I'm a communicant at

the Church of the Holy Sacrament

and paterfamilias
to five young women.

I ain't naive.

I understand that sometimes,

the way an unwanted child
is spared

a miserable upbringing

involves telling
their unfit mothers

that they lost 'em.

But the telling had better be
the extent of it.

Because if it ain't,
I'm coming after you myself.

Is that understood?

Understood.

And the names
of these gentlemen...

your nurses don't know them?

Well, there's one who knows
a little bit more.

Almost everything,
but I trust her.

You trust her?

The matron has been with me
for years.

Whatever the case,
we should question her, huh?

Well, she was due
a little while ago,

but she hasn't reported in yet.

But first, we should talk
to this ward girl,

Miss Colleen Ledwidge.

Could be nothing,

but I did think it's curious

that today is the matron's
first absence from work.

You were right to alert me,
Lucius.

It's better we talk to her
first.

It's not much further.

And if we find the matron
in bed with a cold?

We apologize for any intrusion

and ask her to help us find
Libby Hatch.

Hello?

Anyone there?

We have no cause to enter
this woman's apartment.

This is monstrous.

It is appalling, I grant you,

but equally, it's enthralling.

If you look closely here,
what do you see?

Bruises on the neck.

She held her.

Most likely with a knife
against her throat.

This was punishment.

She wanted to watch her die.

See the life leave her body.

What is certain is that
she sought out this woman

expressly to kill her.

Her motivation's
entirely different

from the killing of the baby.

She was trying on another life.

Lucius.

See if you can lift her head
for me.

The eyelids.

Like the Napp baby.

They appear
to have been drawn in blood.

Truly, she has lost her mind.

Or perhaps
she's simply reordered it

to make sense of her actions.

I found something.

Acetanilide.

What about the charcoal powder?

None that I could find,

which means
if she's ingesting the poison,

it's passing to the child.

Without anything
to neutralize it.

We're running out of time.

I'll leave the light on for you.

She stood right in front of me,

and I didn't even see her.

So we're no closer
to finding this baby.

What do we actually know
about Libby Hatch?

Her shift in behavior...

Not simply a shift,
but a mutation.

Brutally stabbing a contemporary

is much different
than replacing a lost child

with another.

Her attack on me,

it wasn't planned.

She waited
until I presented as a threat.

You posed a threat to her,
but the matron,

she sought her out
in a savage and bloody fashion.

In both cases, I'm afraid,
entirely understandable.

Well, Bitsy nearly died.

Sentimentality will do us
no good

in our search for her.

What about the escalation
in violence?

Surely, that must account
for something.

It means
that the different people

who she presents to the world
can no longer be contained.

It means...

she's unraveling.

Excuse me.

Excuse me, can I, uh...

A comprehensive gallery
of known criminals

and those that fraternize
with 'em.

Here.

Now, are any of these offenders

the nurse you know
as Libby Hatch?

I don't understand how any
of this is supposed to help.

So we can share her likeness

with our officers
combing the streets.

Keep looking.

Have you spotted something?

Ah?

Her?

No name. Only her aliases.

Looks like she likes
to hang out with gangsters.

- You should go home.
Get some rest.

I've had better days,
but I'd like to stay.

Help you catch her.

Walk her home, would you, Milly?

Course, Miss Sara.

If you'd like to go walking
sometime...

If she's replacing
the lost child,

as we've surmised,

in her mind,
that child is frozen in time.

Any growth beyond that
of her own baby

would be greeted
with skepticism.

A mother would notice
the slightest change in weight

or facial features.

One does not have to have
given birth

to understand such things.

I said nothing.

Perhaps the Linares baby
has overstayed its welcome.

Which means that Libby's actions

will be more unpredictable
than ever.

Should I run a likeness
of her in "The Times"?

I think we have to.

Fine.

I shall see to it
it's in the evening edition.

We found her
in Byrnes' mug shot book.

She looks different.

Different names, aliases
and the like, but it's her.

- She has a criminal record?
- No.

She's in there
as a known associate

of various criminal types.

They seem to operate
around Gansevoort Market

and Hudson Street.

Duster territory.

Only two things that mewl.

Cats...

and babies.

Maybe you're a cat.

A sneaky cat...

looking for a saucer of milk.

I won't forget you...

little cat.

I remember all my babies.

Just one.

Give it a shot of burny.

That's a good girl.

Hey! Go after it!

- Come here!
- Come back here, you mutt!

- The hell was that?
- Dog fights tonight.

I can tell they kicked off
when this place empties out

and they go make their bets.

At least it'll be civilized
for a couple hours.

Cyrus, do you know that woman?

Yeah, I know her.

I ain't seen her in a while,
but I know her.

- Where?
Where have you seen her?

Right here.

This is Goo Goo Knox's woman.

So we need to find
Goo Goo Knox to find Libby.

We should review everything
we have on the Dusters.

Whoa, there.

I keep telling the girls
to turn down the lights

when they leave.

Someone's been here.

My father's gun.

It's gone.

Sara.

Libby.

I haven't really used
much of the room

since my grandmother passed.

This precaution isn't necessary.

I appreciate your concern,

but I do not require
a chaperone.

Well, then, you're in luck.

My presence is required
elsewhere this evening.

We need to go back
to Hudson Street.

It's the only address we have
for Goo Goo Knox.

Libby is a danger to you.

I insist you stay here
until she is in custody

or otherwise deterred.

Sara, I said some harsh things

and I've been thinking
about why I said them.

It may take some time
and possibly some courage

before I find the answers.

Now, please, bolt the door
after I leave.

Not now, please.

What is it, Paulie?

I want to show you
another trick.

I learned.

Take a seat.

I hope it won't hurt.

It won't hurt.

And on the count of three.

One, two, three.

And voilà!

Houdini himself
could not have done it better.

Thank you.

It is very intimate.

I gather you mean
it's not Delmonico's,

and I entirely know your point,
but you see,

I quite like to dine alone
on occasion.

As do I.

To what shall we drink?

Let us drink to getting drunk.

I'm not entirely sure
that is possible.

I do not like to...
To lose control?

Behave indelicately.

Santé.

Your message sounded urgent.

Yes.

Truth be told,
I've reached an impasse

and I thought you might shake
some of the rocks free.

With a patient?

A criminal investigation,
actually.

The perpetrator is a young woman

who has kidnapped
several infants

and at least killed one.

Infanticide?

How unusual.

She's progressed.

In truth...

There are facets
of the female mind

I find very difficult to grasp.

Am I to be your subject
or your sounding board?

The latter, of course.

But I'm puzzled to no end
by the actions of this woman.

Once I think
I've gotten a handle

of her motivations, she...

She surprises you?

Yes.

Exactly.

Yes.

That is why I thought
it would be invigorating

to engage on this...

with a colleague.

A colleague.

Another toast.

What shall we drink to
this time, Professor Stratton?

To collaboration.

- Sara.
- Cyrus.

I need to find Libby Hatch.

You said she was involved
with the Dusters with Goo Goo.

Please, go home.

Look, the only Duster here
is Fat Jack over there.

Hey!

Please, Sara. It's late.

All right, enough of that.
Enough!

I can help.

Joanna, I don't wanna get you
into trouble.

I'd like to help you, Sara.

I know who can lead us
to Goo Goo.

All right. Who gets to play?

That's Goo Goo Knox.

Oh, my God. It's Libby.

What's the matter? Huh?

Baby makes you happy, don't it?

Something's different.

I don't think that she thinks
that...

that I'm her mom.

No, not this again.

You know I'd do anything
for you.

I'd kill for you.

That's so sweet, Goo Goo.

- Whatever you want.
What do you want, huh?

We can get you a new one.

No, I don't...
I don't want any baby.

I want my baby.

I thought I was your baby.

Is that your way
of asking me something?

Oh, you know it is.

You want a go, don't you?

Come to your mama.

I need you to get a message

to John Moore and Dr. Kreizler.

I'm not leaving you here alone.

It's vital that we enlist
all the help we can get

as soon as possible.

Be careful, Sara.

You said you were ours tonight,

not the paper's.

- It's your turn.
Ask a question.

What sort of question?

Well, to get to an answer
about who you are.

Ah.

Well, the only answer
that I require

is how "The New York Times"
manages to poach

so many stories
from right under our nose.

Well, it's a matter
of being in the right place

at the most opportune time,
I suppose.

Ah.

The responsibility
of the journalist

is to report the news, but, uh,

John seems to prefer
taking part in its creation.

There's a person to see you,
sir.

A "person," Maurice?

Not a gentleman or a lady?

You've intrigued us.

Bring this mysterious creature
to the table.

It's a matter
of some discretion.

More a matter of urgency
than discretion.

Perhaps you can find
a more discreet spot

to talk shop.

Sorry about that, Joanna.

It's Sara.

She's found Libby Hatch.

She's following her.

On her own?

Where... where was she last?

Duster territory.

Hudson Street.

I know where she's going.

There's a telephone here.

I need you to call Kreizler.

Tell him to meet me
at this address.

The Isaacsons too.
We may need the firepower.

Darling, I must leave.

I don't know why you insist
on being involved, John.

Why not leave these matters
to the police?

Surely you would want me
to stop a violent criminal

if I was able.

Imagine if they were
our little ones

and some madwoman
was on the loose.

Off with you, then.

Go and catch
this loathsome killer.

I had to earn the right

to live above the rules, my boy.

It had better be a scoop
you're after.

I have heard no end
of complaints about this woman

and her investigative methods.

Moore follows her around
like a sick puppy.

Leaving dinner so abruptly...

Well, frankly, Byrnes,
it's humiliating.

Scandalous lady detective...

bent on undermining
the sacred bonds of family

with untraditional friendships
with working women

and unavailable men.

That's a story that
maybe you'll wanna run

in the "Journal," Mr. Hearst.

Stop here!

You lost?

- I'm a doctor.
Making a house call.

A doctor?

Must pay pretty good,
these house calls.

You have me
at a disadvantage, Mr...

They call me Fat Jack.

What kinda doctoring do you do?

I tend to the health
of the mind.

How's that work?

Take your name. "Fat Jack."

An unlikely appellation
based on your physique.

Yeah, I ain't fat.

It's a joke.

Everyone calls me that.

Prescribed names
can be inspired by affection.

But more often than not,

it serves
a paradoxical intention.

What might seem like a tribute
is, in fact, a true reflection

of one's disdain.

That so?

Put the weapon down.

I thought we understood
each other, Miss Howard.

But you...

you're incapable.

Drop the gun.

Sara!

Libby...

I don't wanna hurt you.

Sara!

You found her.

Whoa. Easy.

This is a tremendous
achievement.

I'm thoroughly impressed.

It was all of us
who helped to find her.

Not myself alone.

You're being modest.

It was you
who championed this case.

She's safe because of you.

Thank you, Laszlo.

You were brave today.

Yesterday.

Day's behind us now.

Well,

there's no harm in
acknowledging one's successes.

Nor one's failures, I suppose.

What I said,

I did so
because I wanted to hurt you

just as you had hurt me.

I know.

I'm deeply sorry.

I know that too.

Too often, things said in anger

come from a place of...

of affection.

And what should be spoken
out loud

is left unuttered.

And life is too short for that,
Sara.

You will feel quite comfortable
here.