All language subtitles for the alienist s02e04.Gilded Cage.eng

Engagement, John.

I hope she makes you happy.

It's the clothing the Napp baby wore.

Steady hand.
Perhaps the work of a surgeon.

A woman who lost the child.

I care for Helen greatly, Dr. Markoe,

but I can't afford the scandal.

Where is my baby? I want to see her.

Your child is with
the angels now, my dear.

Many of our staff are simply ward girls,

who sadly often lose
their infants in childbirth.

May I ask you something, nurse?

You can just call me Libby.

What happened at the hospital?

No!

I have the file on Martha Napp

from the Lying-In Hospital.

The last person to check on Martha Napp

was an employee named Colleen Ledwidge.

I was referred to you
by a wealthy family.

It's mainly the poor who come in now.

Do you perform the service pro bono?

I do.

It'd be mercenary to charge them

when they've been through so much.

I suspect your compassion
stems from a bereavement,

Mrs. Carlisle.

My William departed this earth

when he was six months old.

Nothing compares to losing an infant.

Remember, Bitsy, if the killer is there,

it will be crucial to be inconspicuous.

I'll be fine, Miss Sara.
I can handle myself.

I'll tell them I come from a big family.

Worked as a domestic, mostly,

and a lot of the time,
I was with the babies.

No, tell them all you know is babies.

Liars embellish the truth.

If you want to tell a good lie,
keep it simple.

I'll keep it simple, then.

It's best if you work
alongside the ward girls.

That way, you'll be able to
listen to everything and everyone.

Most of these images conjure the illusion

that the child is merely sleeping,

but... these images here...

The eyes transform the picture
from a consolation to...

something more disturbing.

The eyes are hand-painted
onto the negative.

I've only made two of them
in all my years.

A grief that defied understanding.

A grief without end.

As if by painting the eyes,

she could see through to the soul.

Where are the mothers now?

Took their own lives.

They had that look.

As if their spirits
had already departed this earth

and they were mere shades.

Grief is a wound
that sometimes never heals.

I am correct, am I not?

- Memento mori.
- "Remember you will die."

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

I don't know why the "Times"
bothers reporting the weather

when they are never remotely correct.

Well, it's meant to pass quickly.

It's mostly bills, I think.

This one's not.

Hello? I'm here to see Miss Howard.

I'm Miss Howard's assistant.
She won't be a moment.

Libby.

Uh, Miss Howard,
if I could get the file back?

I'm somewhat anxious about
being late to the hospital.

Uh, Matron is so...

unforgiving.

Come in.

Oh, my, it's quite the armory
you have here.

A legacy from my father.

Have you read the file?

Says that Colleen Ledwidge
was the last person

to check on Martha Napp the
night her baby went missing.

She was on duty that night.
Did her rounds.

I'm not a gossip, Miss Howard.

People who can't stand up for themselves

are often unhappily blamed
for the sins of others.

Libby.

Do you think that Colleen is
capable of kidnapping a baby?

Of murder?

Where's the baby?

Stillborn.

But he gives us some fish

and a spot of greenery to feel better.

He must like her more than he did me.

Richard Osgood.

I was given the bonsai first.

Followed by some spotfin betta.

See, they like to get you pregnant

to prove to their fellow financial-types

that their pecker still works.

Set you up in an apartment
with fancy clothes and such.

I'm sorry.

Aren't we supposed to bathe her?

He's had her fixed.

Let's leave her sleep as long as she can.

Check with Dr. Markoe first.

Yes, Matron.

- What are you doing, Libby?
- Nothing, Matron.

There was a body on the track
this morning.

That's why I was late.

The tram, it hit a dodger.

- Get out.
- Sorry.

Get to work.

Stupid, stupid.

We believe the kidnapper
is a nursing woman

or had an abettor who was.

- Either way, they were slow to...
- Loathe, I'd argue.

To kill.

I don't understand.

It has to do with a black
stain on the child's dress.

It is carbon. Powdered charcoal.

It is used as an antidote to the poison.

We found both the antidote and the poison

in the child's stomach.

This may be interesting
for the Napp baby,

whom you did not save,

but you've done nothing for us.

Like you, Señor, I'm not of this place.

Other than you, having the added burden

of being seen as an enemy of the state,

you and I experience
American authority similarly.

The police are not interested
in finding your child, Señor.

They think you staged
the kidnapping yourself.

I can corroborate that.

We are your detectives on this case, sir.

Please, let me present
to you our theories

and tell you the steps
that we are taking.

We have identified the poison
used to kill the baby,

and we know that the key ingredient

cannot be obtained outside of a hospital,

one hospital in particular.

From which the Napp baby was removed.

But you're all here.

We have someone undercover
at this very moment.

If the doctor instructs you
to administer more chloroform,

you do so!

She was refusing, ma'am.

You may finish the mopping.

I don't understand
what I have done wrong.

I know what you were doing in my office.

Now, mop the floor!

Take your apron off first,
and then do it.

You are stupid!

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Who in blazes turned my building

into a flower market?

I believe you ordered them, sir.

For Miss Violet's party.

And you should've told me
what a godawful idea it was.

Yes, chief.

Thank you. Thank you very much, sir.

Madam! Hunter of a torso!

_

Did you hear Millbank
has lent his Rhinebeck place

to the blockade planning?

Navy and Army are bunking up there.

Now, how would a lowlife like
me get access to that information?

Oh, I would've thought
it would've trickled down

to the masses by now.

- Mr. Moore?
- Joanna, right on time.

This is the girl you...

Bernie, this is Joanna Crawford.

Pleased to meet you.

How on earth
will she be gathering stories

for the society pages, John?

I will apprise Joanna of the event

and she will write it up.

We'll manage brilliantly, won't we?

Yes.

You really wrote that article on...

"Suffragism and Emancipation:

A New America"?

- That was my senior thesis.
- It was...

It was very good.

Thank you, sir.

I'm very passionate about...

We should show you the office.

Okay. Carry on, then.

I wasn't sure you could come.

I couldn't leave till now

without anybody getting suspicious.

What have you discovered?

Have you learned anything about
the maternal research wing?

It's where they keep
the pregnant mistresses

of rich old men.

What's more the peculiar is,
there's no babies up there.

Why? Where are they?

That's the thing.

The women up there now,
they all had stillborns.

- All of them?
- That's what they tell them.

What can you tell me
about Colleen Ledwidge?

Well, she's one of the ward girls.

Pretty tough character.

Markoe seems to have
a special interest in her.

Mm.

Bide your time.

Become friends with her.
Get her to confide in you.

You see, the only thing
is something she said.

She's a ward girl,
but she started as a patient.

This big-time swell
Richard Osgood knocked her up.

Another one of his girls, Helen Sumner,

came in to the research wing yesterday.

Was Colleen's baby also stillborn?

- I didn't ask her.
- See if you can find out.

There's something else I want you to do.

Sure, what is it?

The Isaacsons identified the poison

found in the body of the Napp child.

I want you to see where it's stored.

The drugs are kept under lock and key,

but that's not a problem.

There ain't a lock invented
that I can't pick, Miss Sara.

They said they're aniline derivatives,

but they may have different names,

so here's what you're looking for.

Acetanilide phenacetin.

There should be a ledger
indicating drug administration.

Maybe who signed for it.

Look for names, amounts,
and who takes it out.

Oh, you gave me such a fright.

I thought my heart was gonna explode.

What are you doing?

Nothing.

Oh, well, you're going to get into bother

if you're found in here. It's off-limits.

But you already know that, don't you?

No, no, I was looking for...

Oh, I believe you, then.

Colleen Ledwidge.
Ward girl, grieving mother.

She lost a baby,
so she replaces it with another one.

Kidnapping the Linares child
is servicing a need,

but there is a violence to this case,

a fury seething within
the murderer's breast.

Bitsy said she was enraged
at the wealthy man

who had discarded her, Richard Osgood.

She fits our profile.

Could a ward girl acquire
aniline without detection?

The Matron oversees the ward.

She no doubt places
the drug orders herself.

She seems the most likely

to have the access
and the means to cover it up.

Matron wields her power at the hospital

with spite and venom.

Resentful, perhaps,
of what she does not have:

A child.

Although a woman who is a wet
nurse better suits the profile.

The Matron manages a staff of wet nurses

who bottle their milk.

She could administer that milk
to an infant if she wanted to.

I'd like us to not lose sight of Markoe.

Laszlo, the psychology
of the profile fits a woman,

and the evidence points
to one of these two.

But Markoe oversees the Matron.

He may not have taken the child,

but undoubtedly he knows more.

Well, as a cherished friend of The 400,

he will be attending
the social event of the season,

as will Richard Osgood.

You can't mean to ambush them
at Mr. Moore's party.

It's our opportunity.

It's not ideal, but John will understand.

Will he?

We can't simply stand
on ceremony, Laszlo.

What these two mean reveal
about these suspects

could lead us to baby Ana.

I must confess, it does feel strange

to be attending a ball

while there is a child still missing.

Over there.

I should say hello to our hosts.

- Where are you going?
- To observe our friend.

Sir, if you link the Linares
abduction to Spain and Cuba,

there is a chance
you may spook the kidnappers.

So you think there are kidnappers then?

No, sir, not necessarily, but it...

Richard, the man is marrying
my own goddaughter,

and here he is hiding a story.

You know I work for the "New York Times."

The opposition.

The Linares are clearly guilty.

- Guilty of what?
- Who knows, Moore?

Guilty of neglect, conspiracy, fraud.

I wouldn't put anything
past them, even murder.

And perhaps the child is back in Spain

and they're using this as an opportunity

to gain sympathy
from the American public.

Well, they won't get it
from the "Journal," Moore.

That I can assure you.

Mr. Hearst,

I honestly believe the Linares
family are innocent.

I would only ask that whatever line

the "Journal" takes on this story,

this tragedy is not used
to drum up support

against the Spanish for the war in Cuba.

War with Spain over Cuba
is going to happen.

I think that's enough for politics,
for tonight, Osgood.

Okay, Moore.

I'm sure Violet is waiting for you.

It's Byrnes here to see you, chief.

Ah, Byrnes, my man.
I wasn't expecting you tonight.

I've come to pay my respects, Mr. Hearst.

I brung you a gift.

It's for your goddaughter
and her betrothed.

Stop it, Richard.

Mr. Osgood.

I don't believe I know you.

Oh, I know you, sir. I know you.

Mr. Byrnes is my go-to man
for all sensitive matters.

He is very effective and very discreet.

Thank you for the gift, Byrnes.
Very considerate of you.

Just leave it with Monckton.

Uh, sir, um...

these are some very fine cigars, sir.

Well, Violet fill find it
a wheeze, I'm sure.

- Monckton!
- Chief?

Sir.

You can help yourself
to some hors d'oeuvres

in the kitchen on your way out.

I'll take that, Byrnes.

That's former Chief Commissioner Byrnes

to you, Monckton.

But hey, I won't hold that against you.

Put it there.

Maybe your mother didn't
teach you manners

growing up, Monckton,

so I'll forgive you for that.

I don't expect you to like me,

but what I do require is some respect.

And a modicum of civility.

- Picking up any gossip?
- Mm-hmm.

Remind me again

what your costume is, Miss Howard.

I'm a lady undercover on a Sunday stroll.

No one would ever guess.

I have much to tell you.

I suppose you know that Markoe is here.

Yes, I'm very aware of that.

Laszlo and I have agreed
to talk to him tonight.

Sara, we have nothing
to confront him with

except unsubstantiated suppositions.

Need I remind you that there
is a child missing?

And need I remind you

that this is my engagement party?

The only thing you are succeeding
doing is embarrassing Violet.

Ah, Miss Howard.

How lovely to see you.

Has my card made its way to you yet?

My apologies, Mr. Gildersleeve.

My boss, Mr. Moore here,
has kept me so terribly busy

that I haven't had a chance to reply.

Hello, friends!

Thank you so much for joining
us on this auspicious evening.

I am so pleased

to be able to honor
my goddaughter, Violet,

and soon-to-be godson-in-law, John Moore,

even though he has chosen
a very wrongheaded career path.

Where is John?

Down here and dressed as...

A cub reporter for the "New York Times."

All the news that's fit to print?

Your Mr. Peterson misses the
biggest stories in this city

on the daily.

I thought the roast was saved
for the wedding dinner, sir.

Oh, this is my soap box, boy.
I'll say what pleases me.

But perhaps you'll forgive
my gentle ribbing

when I present you this.

The very first German-designed
luxury motorcar

to hit our shore.

I have no need to extol
its many virtues to you, John.

John's been extolling
the virtues of public transit.

Because he can't afford an automobile.

Now, boys.

I am dusting him off and spiffing him up.

The car is just one part of the costume.

No more need to bother Miss Howard

for jaunts here and there.

Three cheers for the Hearst largesse!

- Hip, hip...
- Hurrah!

- Hip, hip...
- Hurrah!

- Hip, hip...
- Hurrah!

The three agencies of action
within human nature

are appetite, spirit, and reason.

Before me, I see

appetite has vanquished
both spirit and reason.

I know who you are.
You're that damned alienist.

You've had quite the harem
at the Lying-In Hospital.

A new girl in the research wing,
I understand?

Have you been spying on me?

I can have you removed
from not only this party,

but from the country
as a foreign undesirable.

A child went missing
from the hospital. Murdered.

The killer has taken another one.

Damn you, man.
This has nothing to do with me.

It has everything to do with you, Osgood.

To you, these girls
are merely playthings.

What of it? They are hardly innocent.

Tell me, what do you know
of Colleen Ledwidge?

You think Colleen, Miss Ledwidge,

is responsible for these crimes?

Colleen worked in service.

She was impressed
by fine clothes, a dinner out.

Perhaps I persuaded her to
think that my intentions were...

Honorable?

Is she violent?

Hot-blooded. Feisty.

Like a mare that needs breaking in.

So you broke her in?

She didn't understand the rules.

What are the rules?

You take her innocence, her youth,

her prospects in respectable society,

and then you have her child taken off her

and sent God knows where?

I thought her child had died.

A time for reckoning comes to us all.

I'm concerned you're being bought, John,

on the cusp of your true independence,

on the finding
of your own powerful words.

I fear you're being seduced.

Well, I fear you're behaving

like an irritating sister, Sara.

How about, "What a lovely party, John.

Please extend my thanks
to your generous bride-to-be."

Generous? She humiliated you.

- She did not humiliate me.
- She laughed at your expense.

It was a moment or two of teasing.

That debased you.

If I'm not fussed by it,
then why should you be?

You don't care about me particularly.

You made that quite clear
when I asked you to marry me.

You said no, if you recall.

She's unkind to you, in public, no less,

which is not right for you, John.

Don't you see?

You deserve someone

who is adventurous and curious and...

Someone like you?

Yes.

Someone like me.

But not me.

A yazoo tributary.

What?

It's an Indian name for a tributary

that runs beside a main river.

It flirts with joining it.

It comes very close, but never does.

A woman exactly like that,

untied to the suffocating social mores,

the very opposite of any number
of women down there.

And the opposite of you too.

So full of judgment,
yet trussed up like a turkey

in your corset and your fancy dress.

I decided, unlike you,

that I want not to be alone,
childless, lonely,

corseted.

You're no yazoo tributary, Sara Howard.

In fact,

you're swimming right down
the middle of the stream.

Thanks for not ratting me out to Matron.

I didn't know it was the drugs closet.

That's okay.

We gotta stick together around here.

I got secrets too, you know?

Not good ones.

Did you do something wrong?

Did I say it was me
that did something wrong?

No, just...

I thought you were
talking about you and Markoe.

M-me and Markoe?

Colleen pretends to herself
it doesn't happen.

You don't ask her about things like that.

You should say sorry.

What are you doing?
You need to be in bed.

Please help me.

I believed all the sweet nothings.

He can't throw me away so easily.

Help me.

- Where's Violet?
- She said we could go ahead.

V?

Lock the door.

I do hope this
is the only key to the room.

Not absolutely, totally sure,

which makes it all the more exciting.

- On your marks!
- Come on!

Get set!

Go!

Get the ring!

Are you mad?

My God, woman.

What has possessed you?

Find the ring!

I found the ring!

Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

It's more than somewhat depressing.

Such wanton extravagance
fills me with melancholia.

It's like Versailles.

So far, I have counted
three Louis Quatorzes

and at least four Marie Antoinettes.

What was it she said
to her starving subjects?

"If you don't have bread,
let them eat cake."

I think what she actually said was,

"Qu'ils mangent de la brioche,"

which is "Let them eat brioche."

Although, of course,
brioche is a pastry of sorts

and at the time, probably meant cake.

And I don't mean to be pedantic,

but I think you'll find there's
only three Marie Antoinettes,

not four.

I think the one by that
monstrosity of a motorcar

is actually a Madame de Pompadour,

chief mistress of Louis XV,
rather than a Marie Antoinette,

although your error
is entirely understandable.

Chief mistress?

Yes, it was an actual
royal court position,

believe it or not.

And who are you, and what do you do,

and how do you come to be here?

I'm an alienist.

As am I.

You're teasing me.

Yes, I'm teasing you.

But it's also true.

Karen Stratton.

I was Violet's professor at Barnard.

Well, she had me for a semester.

Professor Karen Stratton.
I've read all your work.

I'm Doctor...

Of course, I know you're Dr. Kreizler.

Who in New York hasn't heard of you?

And in fact, it seems as if all

of the most important people
in New York are here.

Even still, I didn't for the life of me

imagine I'd meet you.

It's quite the honor.

The honor is all mine.

Indeed.

I would very much like to...

Perhaps we could discuss...

My card.

Do call on me.

Richard?

Richard!

Why didn't you come to me?

Didn't you know what happened to me?

Where have you been?

Helen? Come, now, Helen.

I want to talk to Richard.

Too much champagne.

Get your hands off her, Markoe.

She's deluded, the poor creature.

Were you in the Lying-In Hospital?

If you touch her,

I will scream bloody murder
at the top of my lungs

and then there will indeed be a scandal.

What happened?

They took my baby.

They fixed me so I can't
have children anymore.

- I thought he loved me.
- He does love you, Helen.

And that's why he's asked me

to accompany you in his
carriage to the townhouse.

What? He... he said that?

Yes.

You sterilized her, Markoe?

Is that what you do to all of them?

She had an infection. I saved her life.

Helen, Helen. Come.

Don't go with him, Helen.

You can trust me. I can help you.

May I?

Shame on you.

The events earlier this evening
were simply a distraction.

There is a phenomenon
common in visual perception

that when something
is drawing the eye's attention,

an object, a source of light,

we become almost blind
to surrounding objects.

The human eye cannot help
but fixate on certain stimuli.

And in such cases,
the person isn't even aware

that their perception is limited,

so subtle is the effect.

The same can be true of the mind.

And so it is with us,
we have gone off-course.

What are you saying, Laszlo?

That we are no closer
to finding the killer

of Martha Napp's baby or
the kidnapper of Ana Linares?

That Markoe has nothing to do with it?

Precisely.

Dr. Markoe created a miasma
of corruption at that hospital

in which our killer is hiding.

But that may be the extent of it.

Señora Linares.

Please, have a seat.

Colleen.

One of them puked all over the floor.

I only cleaned it an hour ago.

- I'll help you.
- Thanks.

Got any cloths?

I didn't mean anything by what I said.

I thank you for helping me,

but remembering is also a curse.

There was someone there at the hospital

who did not behave as they should.

A member of the hospital staff?

Yes.

Was Eva able to describe her?

She was a woman
one did not notice at first,

but she was watching all the time.

Staring at Ana, not touching her,

not caring for her, but watching.

She looked back at me
and she left the room.

I knew she meant harm.

She looked back at you?

Not at Ava?

It's me.

My God.

Señora Linares,

the trauma and fear
had repressed your memories.

Your mind has constructed a narrative

that placed Ava, and not you,
at the Lying-In Hospital.

It means that you saw who took your baby.

Yes, I saw her face again...

That day.

Right here.

You ever have a baby?

But he didn't make it?

Can you have another one?

You mean did they sew up
my tubes like the others?

They tried to, but I...

I lost a lot of blood,
so they had to leave me intact.

Libby told me.

Colleen?

What happened to Martha Napp's baby?

Sorry I'm late. I have them.

He printed them all from that Tuesday.

Do you recognize anyone?

It's her.

Oh, my God.

You know something?
You're a real nosy parker.

- Colleen...
- I didn't do anything!

And they're all blaming me.

I checked on the baby and she was there.

Next, I heard her screaming.

How was I to know what happened?

But do you know what happened?

No! You're always asking questions!

Blaming me? What do you want?

Get me thrown out, put in jail?
What are you, a snitch?

No!

- The Lying-In Hospital.
- Please hurry!

Come on! Go!

Yah!

Come back, snitch!

Open the door! Open the door.

You can't stay in there forever!

Libby, Colleen's lost her mind.

Has she?

Go, go!

Your mouth... That's charcoal, isn't it?

You sure do ask a lot of questions.

Oh, God!

Whoa!

Libby!

Doctor!

I tried to help her.

What happened?

Libby locked the door. I couldn't get in.

- Which way did she go?
- I don't know, she ran.

She only managed a partial syringe.

Hurry.

I tried to get in
and stop her, but I couldn't.

You did your best, Colleen.

She's gone.

Lucius.

You're alive.

You're alive.

Libby?

Excuse me?

What are you doing?

I-I am calling the police.

I'll give you, uh...

I'll give you ten seconds to leave, or...

Or what?

You'll tell someone?

You'll... you'll scream?

You'll what?

So.

So this is where you live?

You know, it, um, it looks matronly.

Perhaps too cluttered,
maybe a little cheap.

- What do you want?
- I want?

I want to, um,

um...

To come in.

To, um, hmm.

To lighten the load.

To, um,

to rest my weary bones.

To find sanctuary.

Sanctuary?

What have... What have you done, Libby?

I can't breathe.

Do you understand the feeling now?

I can't breathe.

That you gave
to all the girls around you?

The stain you made on them?

The life that you tore from them?

How does it feel now to plead
for mercy with your eyes

because your words, even if they came,

they mean nothing?

Stupid...

stupid...

stupid.