Original subtitles

DEVIL IN SILK

Sabine! - Thomas!

Sabine!

It wasn't like that, Thomas. Your dream is false.

We were still strangers to each other, completely unknown.

But you took pity on my shoes.

Careful, your shoes! - What about them?

The tide is coming in! - Oh!

I didn't know that. Thanks! - Pleasure.

I just arrived here yesterday. - In the water so soon?

I could hardly wait! It's my first morning, after all. Yours too?

No, my last one. I can't leave. - Oh, did you have to say that?

What? - I wanted to forget that in one week my vacation will be over.

Did you have to remind me of that? On my first morning?

You've still got an eternity until your last one. Don't count the days!

Have you been here for long? - For as long as you're about to stay.

Oh, only seven days as well? - If you must count: 14 altogether.

Why? - It's very simple: "Shared joy, double joy."

Watch out, the tide is coming.

It mustn't end, Sabine! Something has to remain, Sabine!

Wrong, Thomas. You're lying to yourself again. It wasn't like that.

Watch out, the tide is coming. - Oh, it nearly got me.

Well then, my train's waiting. All the best! - Likewise.

Nothing remained. Only our footprints.

A short distance together in the sand.

And not even that...

Oh, pardon me!

The window! Why don't you close the window!

Did the kettle wake you up? - What kettle?

I dreamt of a train that was whistling.

The train with which I left you, back then,

and on which I met Melanie.

What time did I get here? - Four in the morning.

You'll get coffee in a moment, the water's already boiling.

Has my watch stopped?

No. You've slept 12 hours. It's afternoon.

Was I very drunk? - Oh, Thomas...

That was really something. Coming here like that.

You had to take off my shoes? I can't remember a thing anymore.

I just feel dirty, from head to toe, dirty on the outside and the inside.

And you're not asking questions? - You'll tell me.

There are clean towels in the bathroom, freshen yourself up first.

I'd need the sea to do that. The cool sea in the morning.

By the way, I dreamt about that too, before it became a nightmare.

About the sea, and our first encounter at the beach.

As if it happened yesterday. Not three years ago already.

My God, Sabine, what we could've made of those three years...

The two of us. Just the two of us.

Nobody between us. - But you're with me.

But how?

But how...

Yes, please? Hello?

Am I speaking to Miss Uhl?

One moment, please... What do you need the glass for, Dr. Hesse?

For the police investigation, madam.

Hello? Yes, excuse me, but is my... is Mr. Thomas Ritter with you?

Yes.

Who was that?

Your wife.

Melanie? You must be mistaken, that's not possible!

That she's calling me? Why not?

She also wrote to me yesterday. - What?

She said she found the letters I wrote to you.

And?

That she's contemplating legal steps.

I don't know what for.

I don't care about her threats anyway. I tore up the letter.

Are you absolutely sure it was her? - But what's amazing to you about it?

Who else would ask if you were here and then hang up? - You said yes?

Yes, certainly. Should I have lied? - No, of course not, forgive me.

I just wasn't expecting her to... - To do what?

Well, to call here.

Thomas, that's not what you were going to say.

Are you not telling me the truth? What happened yesterday?

Why did you get drunk and come to me?

I've split up with her. I told her that I want the divorce.

What did she say? - Oh, just some empty threats.

Don't worry.

Yes? - Miss Uhl?

Yes. - How do you do, I'm Sylvia Angermann.

Yes?

Is... is my brother-in-law still here?

Please. - Thanks.

If you'd like to take a seat meanwhile. He's still in the bathroom.

Sylvia?

Pardon my coming here, Thomas, but...

Is it about Melanie? She just called here.

No, Thomas. I called.

She's dead. She killed herself.

Tonight. Barbiturates.

Thomas! Don't, don't...

At home? - Yes.

The window! Why don't you close the window!

I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't anything important?

Oh, just a piano concert.

Ah, a musician! Shall I pull the emergency brake?

Do you want to fish it out of the mudflat?

No, no, no. I was being quite serious.

I'm sorry about your piano concert. Has much flown away?

But you surely got it all in your head.

You don't have music in the head, madam.

Music either comes from here, or not at all!

Ah, a romantic musician!

Quite the opposite. I write very modern music.

But it still must come from here.

Or not at all, I know. - Exactly.

Actually, I'm not all that unmusical. Should your name be familiar to me?

No. I'm completely unknown and utterly unsuccessful.

But nevertheless and notwithstanding...

Nevertheless and notwithstanding what?

A musician. - Oh, don't be so angry. I didn't do it on purpose, after all.

Please.

Hmm, no. I shouldn't be in the First Class coach.

Why not? - 'Cause I've only booked Third Class.

Well, if the conductor comes, I'll tell him that we're old friends

and that I just invited you to keep me company, Mister...

Ritter. Thomas Ritter.

My name is Melanie Simrock.

May I see the rest? - Oh no, please don't!

This music has to be heard.

And when will it be heard? - Probably never.

But you know, it was more of an attempt to find myself.

To find what had seemed like my calling, before the war.

Ultimately, they were just jobs. - Oh, aren't you a musician anymore?

Yes, yes, yes!

Functional musician, part-time musician,

awkward musician, bar musician.

Giving lessons, writing sheet music.

But...

You must be alone to hear your music.

Your own music.

And where did you hear it? - By the sea.

I took eight days off. On Sylt.

All alone? Just with your music? - Of course, why?

We could've met at the beach. I was there too.

Well, I'm sure you weren't alone. - No.

Not a single minute, unfortunately.

But notwithstanding, like you said, and nevertheless... - What?

Alone.

Come, Thomas. - Again, my sincerest condolences, madam.

Come.

Mr. Ackermann. - Thank you very much, Doctor.

The gentlemen are acquainted already. - We've met briefly.

Dr. Hess, Melanie's lawyer. - I still am. Even beyond her death.

Dr. Hess was a great help to me when the police were at the house.

Not at all, madam.

By the way, I need you to come to my office tomorrow.

There are several things to sort out.

Madam.

Why didn't he shake hands with me? - Because Melanie married you, not him.

You took her away from him. - Oh, I didn't know about that.

In contrast, he knew quite a lot about you,

including the address where I could reach you.

That's odd.

A painting of my wife? - A gift of the deceased.

I'd always particularly admired it.

When I had the opportunity to do a small labour of love for her,

she returned the favour generously, as usual.

Please.

May I start by handing you back these letters?

Miss Uhl's letters?

So... they were here! - Where did you expect them to be?

Well, in my wife's room. I searched endlessly.

When were you looking for them?

The very last evening when she told me...

Why are you asking? - Because it was already too late by then.

Your wife had already given me these letters

in the afternoon to file them. As evidence of the adultery.

But I was willing to take all the blame!

So why gather evidence? - In case of a divorce.

Divorce?

My wife would never agree to a divorce.

Even that last night, she told me "I wouldn't dream of releasing you."

Interesting to hear that from you. - Why? Did she tell you something else?

No, no, no. You're just confirming it.

These letters were intended

as evidence in an action which the deceased

wanted to file against the writer for adultery.

But she just said that in the heat of the argument... - So you knew?

Yes! If she was serious about it, would she have killed herself?

And if she hadn't killed herself... - That's pure speculation, Dr. Hess!

She's dead. - And no case without a plaintiff.

Did you also know that your wife wanted to change her will as a precaution?

Precaution? - Your wife's very words on her last day.

This change wasn't made in time. Therefore you remain the...

Before you go on talking, Mr. Hess:

I won't accept this inheritance.

The financial shares which my wife transferred to me can as well be given

to her family. Furthermore, I'll also give up my job in her company.

And besides, I'm not staying at her house anymore, not since the funeral.

If you should suspect that I wish to take advantage of her passing...

You seem willing to pay any price to avoid that suspicion.

I don't have anything left to say to you! - But I have, Mr. Ritter.

As the lawyer of the deceased, I will make a report to the district attorney

based on suspicion of you having murdered your wife.

You've never loved me, so why not kill me right now!

But you'll regret this! You'll regret this!

You're going to regret this all your life!

Miss Uhl's letters?

So... they were here! - Where did you expect them to be?

Well, in my wife's room. I searched endlessly.

When were you looking for them? - The very last evening...

Hello?

Thomas, at last! I've been so worried about you. Why didn't you come?

I have to talk to you immediately! - I'm waiting just for you. Come here!

No, No. No, I'll explain it to you later. Please come to our caf�.

No, don't ask now.

Please come. Yes.

Unfortunately, the ground for suspicion has become so dense

during my conversation with your brother-in-law that I've no choice.

No, I'm sorry. It's my duty as the lawyer of the deceased.

Good night!

His duty?

He's almost digging for grounds of suspicion against Thomas!

Now I know why he had Melanie's glass examined for fingerprints!

Has he found something? - He's not talking!

I only know that he hates Thomas, but I do believe in his sincerity!

Didn't you also believe that your sister

would never get serious about her suicide threats?

But he had no idea she was dead when I went to see him!

He thought it had been her calling him.

If he gave the barbiturates to her...

I'm saying "if"... and then left the house,

he couldn't be absolutely sure that it actually worked out.

Murder?

You think he'd be capable of... - No, no, of course not!

But,

Had I married her instead of you...

I could imagine her driving me to a state of desperation...

Where are you going? - To Thomas, of course.

Please don't, Sylvia! We need absolute clarity first.

And what about what he needs?

I know what he needs.

An excellent lawyer.

And you didn't defend yourself at all?

I was paralysed.

All of a sudden, Melanie reappeared before my eyes.

One single accusation,

one single threat... - Free yourself of her!

It's her doing, Thomas, not yours!

Why haven't you come to me since?

Why are you staying at a hotel?

Please, let's go. I need to get some fresh air.

Why don't you tell me what happened that night?

Because it's better this way.

If they try me, you'll be questioned as a witness,

and you're incapable of lying.

But... would I have to? - No, Sabine, it's just...

the truth's arguing against me! That's the diabolical thing about it!

It's quickly becoming a motive, grounds for the accusation.

Against her? - No, against me!

I just realised it when I met this lawyer.

Unfortunately too late. I'd already said too much.

You mustn't say anything against her, even if it was the truth a 1000 times,

or she will dig a grave for us even after her death. Every word

against her is enforcing the suspicion that I wanted to get rid of her.

You... you mustn't ever mention anything

about that threatening letter, got that?

And under no circumstances tell anybody that we wanted to marry!

It must seem like the only thing between us was...

The usual.

You know it wasn't.

No, it wasn't.

It was beautiful and pure. And true.

And now it's becoming a lie.

Is that the only way I can help you, Thomas?

Well, how could I defend myself against her?

Against her? Yes, you're right.

She isn't dead. She's still standing between us.

I want to go home.

If I'm getting you right, Dr. Zacharias, you will firstly

...insist on a fast preliminary investigation.

That's when we'll pull out the rug from under this case.

It's standing on weak feet. It's not all that easy to

turn a suicide into murder, based only on indications.

Indications? - Well, let's say motives.

Speaking of which - I don't like your refusal of the inheritance.

Why should you, if you're innocent? - I can understand that very well.

Yes. But naturally, that's out of the question. - I know, I know.

They'll ask: "Why refuse so much money?"

Nowadays, are such decent motives suspicious eo ipso,

because no one expects them from anybody anymore?

Then there's still that other woman.

Fortunately, you dumped her straight away.

And you did well by taking my advice to move back in here.

People might say "Sure, the criminal's avoiding the scene of the crime!"

But Doctor... - Believe me, as a lawyer...

In a trial,

everyone thinks the defendant capable of all their own sins.

Oh, thank you very much!

Nice house, by the way! - It belongs to my wife. - "Belonged".

"-ed"! You're still talking about her as if she were alive.

Bad for the nerves. - And you'll be needing them.

Thanks for your visit, Doctor, and for your great help.

Don't fret so much, Thomas. - Thanks. Thanks so much.

Are you admiring my mirror or yourself? - Neither one.

Then? - You.

These people don't need to know that I can't take my eyes off you.

Drunk a little too much, hmm? - Mm-hmm. And not one single glass with you.

You've had enough despite that. And now, they're leaving!

And I haven't been able to exchange one single word with you alone.

That wasn't the purpose of this party.

You were meant to get acquainted with influential people,

make use of these acquaintances

and play for them from your piano concert.

I just wanted to open the door to success for you.

Aren't you content with that?

Really, why are you so interested in my success?

Well, because I once opened a window, through which it nearly flew away.

I'm obliged to help you somehow. - "Obliged" isn't a nice word.

Oh, my sister does think highly of obligations. Isn't that so, Melanie?

But dear Doctor, you aren't leaving already, are you?

Very reluctantly, Melanie.

But I'd rather leave a little earlier so that you won't need to ask me to.

Good night. - Good night.

Well then, Goodbye! - Goodbye!

So, will you be coming to the publishing house with your work?

Gladly! - I'll see you then.

Goodbye. Thank you!

Good night. - Good night.

Are you coming with us? We'd happily give you a lift. It's no trouble!

Oh, a thousand thanks. That's very kind, but it's such a nice evening.

I was under the impression that it's raining! But suit yourself. Good night!

Yes, good night! - Good night!

Good night, Melanie, it was an enchanting evening!

Good night, Mr. Ritter! - Well, I forgot my piano concert.

No, no, don't bother. Sophie, the gentleman's sheet music on the piano.

A musician who forgets his music... - Well, I just realised.

Your piano concert? Or how you could stay a little longer?

I've been waiting all night to... - ... have a drink with me. I know.

All right, then!

But just one glass, understand?

Oh dear! Of all things!

She's unconscious! - Oh, she'll regain consciousness, I'm sure.

Please excuse me!

Please excuse me, it's already passed.

It was just a dizzy spell. - Yes... No, no, nevermind!

Yes, don't clean up now, Sophie. Go to bed if you're not feeling well.

I don't need you anymore today. - Thank you, madam, thank you.

It's fine, really. Thank you.

What's the matter with her?

Nothing at all. Just the tiresome habit

of spoiling my mood every time something isn't to her liking.

But why should she? - Exactly, why?

She's got a more better life here than she could have anywhere else and...

I'm really the last person to demand something of somebody.

Well, then I don't understand... - Why I'm keeping her?

I inherited her from my deceased husband.

She had served him for a long time

and now considers herself a kind of legacy, the loyal soul.

She never got over his death.

He recommended her to me in his will,

and like my sister told you: I hold commitments in high esteem.

Besides, she's a good cook. So you just have to ignore that she

disapproves when I'm merry and happy...

and that the past has passed for me.

I understand. Sort of a protest.

Against you. But don't pay any attention to it.

I think a glass of sparkling wine

would do both of us good after this little episode, don't you think? - Yes.

So...

You're wonderful.

You're stepping on your piano concert! - To hell with the piano concert!

Were you successful?

With such influence and connections, what did you expect? - You, as you see.

Come, this must be celebrated! I've already booked a table. Hungry?

Sorry, but today your table will stay empty.

You haven't made any other plans, have you?

Yes, I did. There will be no more booking tables in expensive restaurants

and no more of those endless fights about the bill

which you always cunningly win!

Your silly pride! You're broke and not earning any money at the moment...

Move over, my lady. Today, I'll invite you.

Did you get an advance from the publisher?

An advance? No way.

He rejected my piano concert. But don't worry, I'll feed you somehow.

Was it tasty? - You bet it was!

Have I ever not enjoyed your food? Just like Mum's, isn't it?

Yes, it was very filling.

Well, that's the main thing, isn't it, Mr. Ritter?

Couldn't you say something nicer to her?

After all, she fed me for years. On credit!

Is that why you dragged me here? - This is my world.

My God, how many times was I sitting here,

longing for a publisher to come and accept something by me.

And now a publisher has accepted YOU.

Isn't that more than you expected? A secure position?

Melanie, I will not take this job.

Please don't get me wrong. But I don't want to.

You don't want to? What do you mean, you don't want to?

Of course you'll take it! You will accept it with a kiss of the hand!

Thanks, Melanie.

But I don't want to judge the music of others.

I don't even know if I could do that. I don't feel like it's my calling.

No, I want to be free. Independent. - And go on playing the piano in pubs?

That's decently-earned money. - And the other job isn't?

No, Melanie.

Why didn't you ever tell me that you own the publishing house?

Own? Me? Were did you get that from? It was once owned by my husband.

I'm not connected to it in any other way. It's an AG now.

Of which you own the majority of the shares. - I see.

You've made commercial inquries about me.

That wasn't even necessary.

The publisher wasn't hiding the fact that your wish is still their command.

But how? He would've accepted your piano concert in that case.

Yes.

Maybe it wasn't good.

Anyway, he offered me the post to please you.

And I don't want to be obliged to you like this, Melanie.

"Obliged"? You've said yourself that it's not a nice word.

Yes, and it shouldn't exist between us.

Please try to understand, Melanie.

I don't want to "profit" from our relationship.

It makes me so self-conscious towards you!

As well as you paying every time.

I know it's a joy for you, but... - Many thanks!

You've thoroughly spoilt it. - But, Melanie! Melanie!

The bill, please!

Did the lady get indigestion from my food?

What? Er...

Oh, bring me another half pint, will you? - Alright.

We've got a table now!

What, already leaving? But why aren't we staying?

No, Mr. Ritter, madam isn't at home.

No! She really isn't home! - I know she's at home! - Please, no!

It's alright, Sophie.

What's going on? Day and night I'm calling you...

Of the things that we had to say to each other,

you've definitely made your point.

You want to be free from me. - But I never said that!

Please. If my love is making you self-conscious,

I won't keep you.

But Melanie, it's impossible that you misunderstand me that much.

There was nothing to misunderstand.

You don't want to be obliged to me. Then please don't feel obliged to

hold feelings towards me that never meant more than your pride,

your independence...

Go play in pubs, if it makes you feel free!

You've won this showdown.

The one who loves always loses.

But Melanie...

To me, it's not about power! I love you.

If you did, you wouldn't put every bagatelle,

every meal I pay for, above my feelings!

I was so happy to give you everything.

Because I loved you! - But Melanie, if one loves...

Try to understand. Perhaps it's just my silly male pride again,

but after taking, one wants to give too.

Love is giving and taking. Not only taking, taking, taking!

Dear God, how could I have the right

to ask you, to beg you...

What do you want to ask me for?

Well, ask me then! Beg me then!

Or do you think I wouldn't marry you because you don't have anything?

Because you're a nobody?

Hello? Yes, Sabine!

Yes.

The lawyer was here just now.

There will be a preliminary investigation.

But I'll manage to get the case off my back. If we're reasonable.

Yes, Thomas, if it's better this way, naturally we won't see each other.

But I'm scared. Thomas...

You've changed so much. You've become alien.

Is there no way I can help you?

Yes, I know.

I know what I'll have to say.

Good morning, Miss Uhl!

Oh, hello!

It's really very sweet of you.

Why? - Well, she was your sister after all.

Come on. We both want the same thing.

Yes. Isn't he here?

Yes, but he's being interrogated. It's been quite a while now.

So you left the house right away after the row with your wife.

Immediately. - And where did this row take place?

In the hall. - You didn't go to your wife's bedroom again?

No, who said that? - How come we found your fingerprints

on this glass, which the lawyer of the deceased found on her night table,

with the remains of the barbiturate still at the bottom?

I don't know. But don't you think it's possible that my wife took this glass

from the bathroom where I had used it before?

Weren't the glasses cleaned at your house? - Yes, of course, but...

I've already told you that our maid Sophie had been rather frail lately.

I took her to the hospital the same night. Cancer.

Well, it's quite possible for a glass to remain dirty in such a situation.

So you didn't return to your wife's room?

No.

Very well. Dr. Zacharias, please.

Yes?

Yes? - Dr. Zacharias,

I'd like to read a statement to Mr. Ritter in your presence

which Dr. Hess has given us.

I beg your pardon, but whatever Dr. Hess says

cannot be considered as evidence, given his bias towards my client.

The statement was made by your client himself.

Please.

Miss Uhl's letters? So they were here.

Where did you expect them to be? - Well, in my wife's room!

I searched endlessly. - When were you looking for them?

The very last evening, when she told me... Why are you asking?

'Cause it was already too late by then. - I decidedly protest against

this insolent abuse of a purely private conversation!

Where will this custom of recordings take us? Did you know about this?

No. - There we are! Flagrant intrusion into the personal rights of my client!

But Doctor, please!

Whether this recording will be accepted as evidence or not

is currently up to the court to decide.

I'm merely supposed to uncover contradictions.

Of which there are enough for me to request

your availability to the court, Mr. Ritter.

Bring in the next witness, Sabine Uhl. - Come.

Witness Sabine Uhl. - Oh, turn that thing off, will you?

How are things going? - The first match goes to Dr. Hess.

How could that happen? - Yes, I'd like to know that too!

How am I supposed to defend you if you're not telling me the truth?

Contradictions in the preliminary hearing!

You know what that means? Arrest!

Arrest?

Good morning. - Good morning. - Dr. Zacharias, lawyer.

I'd like to see my client, Mr. Thomas Ritter. Pre-trial custody.

Morning, Mr. Ritter! - How do you do, Doctor!

How are you? - Thanks thanks for asking.

Ah, books! From the jail library?

No, I was allowed to bring my own things. - Yes? Very good.

And flowers too!

Well, you're having it quite comfortable.

Believe it or not,

I feel much more comfortable here than in my wife's house.

Too many memories, right? And all in spite of your bad memory.

Were you in your wife's room that night or weren't you?

Whether I was in her room isn't important.

That's not what it was about.

What was it about then?

Do you know this book?

Plato. "The Symposium, or: Of Love".

Now, don't start bringing up Greek philosophy.

This book is a record of conversations

which Socrates led, about the nature of love.

That's what my marriage was about. About the question:

What is love?

Because I did love her.

I once told her: "You know, Melanie, love is both giving and taking."

She drew a strange conclusion from that.

She gave me luxury, money, influence,

and took everything that I cared for: My books, my paintings,

my friends and my music.

Yes.

It started with this little book. It was mine.

One of few things I had brought into the marriage.

A few memories. It was shortly after the wedding.

Thomas, what's that book you're reading?

Plato. About love.

Sometime, we should read together what old Socrates wrote about love.

What did old Socrates know about love?

"In memory of wonderful hours. Ingeborg". Who's Ingeborg?

A music student. An early love during my university years.

Quite platonic.

But Melanie!

You can't be jealous of my past!

She was. And not only of my past,

but of everything she was unable to give me

and that meant something to me apart from her.

How did my things get here, in the attic?

Madam said she that didn't want that stuff in the flat.

"Stuff"? These are my few belongings.

Please, I'm just repeating madam's words.

To madam, everything someone else cares for is "stuff".

She did the same with the belongings of the blessed master.

Leave yours here, upstairs...

or it will only cause trouble and bother.

I gave in.

Somehow, I was flattered by the exclusivity of her love

that wanted me all for itself.

Later, I hung those paintings in my office at the Music AG.

Naturally, I had accepted the post.

In the beginning, it was just a post in the editorial office.

But I did enjoy wearing decent suits

and sitting on the right side of a proper desk,

where I had some say,

and was able to accept instead of just being rejected.

Even though I didn't get to compose too much, myself.

Have you forgotten me completely over your music?

Rather, I think I've forgotten how to write good music.

I don't know. It's all so heavy on my hands,

as if I've learned too many things at the publishing house

which a productive person mustn't know.

That neverending judging of other people's music.

Those discussions with the publisher about taste -

it's all making me so unfree, so biased!

I don't know... I'm thinking too much.

It's all coming from here! Here, from the head!

It should come from here, I know.

One must be alone to hear one's music.

And you don't care if I'm alone?

Because I'm sitting at this piano once in awhile?

I believe I'm sitting on the wrong side of the desk after all.

Nonsense, darling! It just isn't the right desk yet,

where you can make the big decisions.

Listen, I've thought it all through already.

Next month, the publisher's general meeting will take place

and that's when I'll sign my block of shares over to you.

And that's automatically linked to the post of Director. Understand?

No, Melanie.

I can't understand why you don't comprehend what this is about.

I don't want what isn't mine!

I want...

What isn't yours? Whatever belongs to me is yours as well!

You also belong to me.

And again, she got her way.

She took my music and all my personal things from me.

Those cheap prints!

Can't get rid of them because of sentimentality for the past?

Melanie, don't be a snob!

If I was a snob, would I have married you?

No, I won't allow those in your new office.

I can think of something better!

Her image in full scale. Her first husband had had it painted.

I never liked it. And now, it was hanging in my new office.

But for the first time, my being here had a meaning.

A young musician had sent me his works. Talented, extremely gifted!

And I could help him with his work, too...

thanks to the publishing experience I'd gained during that year.

Melanie!

I'm sorry, but that "Do Not Disturb" doesn't include me, does it?

But of course not! How are you?

May I introduce: Peter Dornberg. My wife.

Pleased to meet you! - So far, I've only been able to admire your painting.

Peter Dornberg submitted an quintette, and just now we were

revising it a little. - Ah, a composer! Should I know you?

No, I'm still completely unknown. And if my work is ever performed,

it'll all be due to your husband! He always helps me so selflessly...

But Peter! I've been enjoying it! - Peter?

Mm-hmm. "Work makes friends." - How nice!

Why haven't you ever told me about him? Well, I won't disturb you then.

But madam, please... - How about coming to our place sometime?

That would be wonderful! - That's settled then.

I'm having a few guests on Friday.

You'll be able to meet influential people, get acquainted.

See you!

It was just like back then, the first time she'd invited me.

But this time, she was taking care of Peter Dornberg, my friend,

who lost his heart to her.

I had no hard feelings for him, as the same had happened to me.

Only Melanie... I couldn't figure Melanie.

It was only later that I realised what she was up to that night

and what she succeeded in doing.

I hope your husband won't mind... - ...that you've been raving

about him to me all night? Surely not. - You have to understand, madam,

I'm so grateful to him...

For correcting something that you created?

But it's getting even better in his hands. - Really?

My God, it would make me so happy for him if you were right!

And he's very intelligent, of course. He knows a lot.

But... - But?

I always think: Music must come from here, not from the head.

But in God's name, don't get me wrong!

It's just that, in a way, he is a failed musician.

He hasn't composed anything in a long time; he's lacking ideas.

He's feeling insecure. But that's exactly why I'm so grateful to you,

dear Peter Dornberg, for saying "He's making it better".

But is he really making it better than you could?

You alone? Well, I'm just asking because he always says:

"You must be alone to hear your music, your own music."

Maybe he's now hoping to hear his music in your quintette.

Really? - But please, this must remain between the two of us. I don't want

anything to get broken... neither your music

nor your beautiful friendship.

So, what's the silence here about? Secrets?

But no! May I have the pleasure, madam? - No, this dance belongs to my husband!

It was the last time that I saw him. Just a few brief phone calls

regarding his work. No sign from him afterwards.

And then came the day when I should've had an epiphany.

Oh, good evening!

Sylvia, nice to see you!

How are you, Thomas!

Hello, Melanie. - Don't I get a kiss?

Have you had trouble at the publisher's?

If you insist on talking about it...

Pardon me, Sylvia.

I think it's unbelievable that behind my back, my own wife

talks to my boss to denigrate my judgement.

Your judgement?

You said yourself that you don't feel qualified to judge others!

Ah, but you feel qualified to spoil the only chance

I could've offered to a highly gifted, young man!

He's taken a great fancy to a young composer

and has been working with him for weeks!

So Melanie invited him here! And what's the result?

He doesn't show up again! And suddenly, I'm told by my publisher:

"Madam said that Peter Dornberg isn't worth it"!

Can you believe that?

If you'd rather talk to my sister about it...

Please!

Tell me, do you understand this?

Were you close friends? - Peter and me? Yes!

It seemed like it. Why?

Because you mustn't have friends, Thomas.

She doesn't tolerate any gods beside her.

But she can't be that egoistic! - Call it whatever you like:

Egoism, imperiousness, hunger for power, possessivness.

It's her way of loving which only knows herself, her will, her target.

Don't, Sylvia.

Oh, Sophie knows. What did Melanie's first man die from?

From heart failure, didn't he? Why?

Yes, why?

Because he was too weak for her, too soft.

Thomas, he was the most tolerant person you could imagine.

You mustn't let her pass with everything, Thomas!

You must break her will. Otherwise...

It's not pleasant having to say this about your own sister.

Shouting at me in front of my sister, heartlessly and lovelessly!

Because you care more about everyone else but me!

You don't want me to have any friends but you.

Friends? Go ahead, lobby for him! Go, sponsor him!

But don't believe he'll be grateful! Not even that much!

The slightest accommodation from me and your best friend would betray you.

That's not true! - But, are you blind?

Why do you think has he stopped showing up?

Because he fears I could've told you... - What?

How quickly he sold you when I tested him.

Why did I invite him? To find out if he's worth your friendship.

All the pain you're taking for him.

And why do you think I went to your boss?

Secretly, behind your back? - Why?

Because I wanted to spare you hearing what you are to your

young, highly gifted protege. - Well, what?

A failed musician, who's tampering with his works.

I see.

So that's why you went there?

But you never understand what I want to do.

Thus, she took my friend and left me with nothing but doubts of her,

of him, of what Sylvia told me

and of myself.

Then, one day, the door of my officed opened...

Good morning! - Morning! - You wanted to dictate somehing?

But where's my secretary? - Sick. I'm just temporary.

Sylt! - Right! Know I know.

It's been a long time since. - Not even true anymore.

Beach, sea in the morning. Take a seat!

Well, how were your eight days? - I tried to make it ten.

and that cost me my job, but it was worth it. - What do you do now?

Well, as you see: Temporary jobs. - For three years?!

Once you're a temp, you stay one. The sick always recover,

but the healthy also get sick. And then they say: Call Miss Uhl"

That's to say, it's my name. Uhl, Sabine Uhl.

I see. Mine's Ritter.

You can dictate as fast as you like! - No, please don't spoil me.

My old secretary is as blind as an owl. Do you know what's wrong with her?

I'd like to know myself. - Why?

Pure selfishness. Usually, it's just short flu.

I see. Well, that's easy to find out.

Hello?

Yes, it's Ritter. Tell me, what's actually wrong with Mrs. Schwarz?

A fractured leg? Four weeks? Oh dear, that's really... sad, yes.

Well, please give her my regards, will you?

Send her some flowers.

An owl is to one what the nightingale is for the other.

One moment please, who may I announce? Oh...

Who are you? - The new secretary, madam. Mrs. Schwarz is sick.

Since when? - Roughly four weeks.

Nightingale! - Yes, please, Mr. Ritter? Your wife wants to speak to you.

On the phone?

Oh, in person! Well, that's lovely! Coming to pick me up? - Yes.

Yes, I just have to pay the print office a short visit.

Would you like to come along?

Miss Uhl, may I have the correction sheets? - Yes.

There. - Thanks.

Why did you not mention her? - Whom?

Your new secretary. - What's there to talk about?

Exactly. And what's her name? - Uhl, Sabine Uhl. Why?

Because you're calling her nightingale. - But Melanie.

Nightingales are grey, inconspicuous little birds.

But at night, they sing sweetly, right? Or is she just giving you flowers?

Romantic field blossoms? - Christ! She's just a nice fellow, nothing else!

Is that why you hired her? - I didn't hire her at all.

The personnel office hired her. It was just a coincidence that we met again.

What? You met her before?

Just for a few minutes, and that was three years ago.

Seems like they were unforgettable minutes.

Melanie, stop your incessant jealousy. It's sheer madness!

You're doing this over and over again!

Just like that story about Peter Dornberg.

And it wasn't even about him but only about his music!

Watch that, I'll show you something.

This giant thing is spitting out hit songs.

Print run: 100.000 copies.

But here, in this little one, his music is being printed.

For the first time. And that's the only thing that mattered to me.

Don't you understand? - I understand.

The only thing that matters to you is having your own way against me!

Mr. Ritter, have you got the sheets? - Yes. Excuse me.

Have you forgotten, Darling? - What?

Open it! - What's that?

A gold watch?

Why? - Well, what date is today?

Today is the, er... 21st of June.

And you can't think of anything else?

Midsummer?

Think back three years, you forgetful man!

Oh, Sylt! Encounter on the train.

I'm really an impossible person!

Thank you! How can I ever make up for this?

Give me a present as well. - Whatever you want.

Do you mean it? - Yes.

Then give her to me, Thomas. - Who, "her"?

Your nightingale. You don't know what that would mean to me.

Please Thomas, send her away. Please, for my sake.

And what reason should I give her? - "Her"? Her!

And what's the reason for your refusal? - It's very simple, Melanie.

And that's the only reason, believe me: Because you're urging me to.

Because I'm urging you? - Now stop this once and for all!

I beg you!

Because you don't want her to stop! - That's not true!

For heaven's, hell's and christ's bloody sake!

How often have I been lying next to you at night and think: Why?

Why does she have to take everything and everybody from me?

Are you perhaps also thinking of her when you're lying next to me at night?

No. But I might be forced to think of her

if you force me to give her the sack, for your sake.

Tell me, how do you imagine our marriage

if I always give in and in and in to you?

Besides, I couldn't even do it. - Then tell the personnel office to.

No, you misunderstood me, Melanie.

I couldn't love you as much afterwards.

By the way...

Today would've been her last day.

Tomorrow, Mrs. Schwarz is coming back. - Very well, so she'll leave.

No, she won't.

She'll stay. And only and solely because you don't want her to.

You're going to regret this!

Yes?

Good evening, Mr. Ritter! I just wanted to say goodbye.

Oh, has the hour come?

Yes. Tomorrow, the owl will come in a cast. Goodbye.

Yes, goodbye Miss Uhl. Tomorrow morning at 9 as usual.

I'll surely find another post for the owl in the company.

But why, all of a sudden?

Let's say it's because I can dictate faster to you.

Do you mean I can stay? Permanent? Without someone having to get sick?

Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!

Yes? Yes, hello Sylvia!

What's that? What, Melanie...?

Yes, immediately.

My wife has...

Please don't take the blame for this! Don't blame yourself!

Melanie. Melanie! Look at me!

Don't be angry. - Don't worry, Thomas. She spat everything out already.

Tear up the letter. Don't read it.

What letter? - Her suicide note.

How could you do this, Melanie?

I was so scared that you had stopped loving me. Darling, please...

I cannot... I cannot live without you!

Promise... - Everything. Anything you want!

Promise to do what I asked you for this morning. Promise!

Yes, I promise.

That's enough for the moment. Please come.

I can't understand how this could happen.

Nothing happened at all, Mr. Ritter.

She felt unwell this morning and wanted to lie down again.

I had to see my doctor. When I came home she was sleeping.

I didn't want to disturb her. And at 4 pm, Mrs. Angermann arrived...

...saw the barbiturates and called me. And then I pumped out her stomach.

That's it.

You're not to blame, Sophie. - Blame? Me?

Good morning, Mr. Ritter! - Good morning.

The flowers had withered. - Thank you.

Have you had trouble? - Oh...

Yes, Miss Uhl. I'm very sorry.

I... said that you could stay yesterday.

Unfortunately, some circumstances have changed which don't allow me to...

Please, It has nothing to do with you. Quite the opposite, your diligence...

You've thrown yourself into this work with so much love and dedication...

I don't even know how to explain this to you.

Yes?

Good morning, Mr. director! I'm all well again.

Well, that's very nice. - Hello!

As you said: "What's an owl to one..."

Very well, maybe some other time, if someone gets sick.

Goodbye and thanks again. - What for? I have to thank you.

Hello Sylvia. - Hello, Thomas.

Listen, Dr. Heinsheimer is with Melanie.

He wanted to look after her once more.

How could it happen? - Tell me, Thomas: Did you have a quarrel with her?

Well yes, but you don't kill yourself because of that!

If you ask me, she didn't intend to.

What's that supposed to mean?

And according to Dr. Heinsheimer's estimation, she couldn't have done it.

With those few pills she took. - Yes.

Though the package of barbiturates was empty. But pulse, blood pressure, eye,

Overall condition... Had she taken the whole 20 grams,

we would've come too late yesterday, my boy.

Four, possibly five pills. It's doesn't look like more.

And such a dose isn't fatal. - But the suicide note...

Have a drink first. - I've known your wife for 20 years.

She already disliked me as a young girl because I didn't take her seriously.

She's an unstable type.

Her self-centered perception is almost pathological.

A borderline case of paranoia with an iron will.

Such people don't commit suicide.

But what was her plan then?

For you instead of me to find the barbiturates on the bedside table,

her suicide note and her lying there, seemingly dead.

To have her way by making you feel guilty. That was her aim.

Let's just say it was an attempt to commit suicide with improper means.

Oh no doctor, let's stick to the truth.

It's not the first time she's made such threats. - Stop it, Sylvia.

Please stop.

You simply can't threaten somebody with your own death...

DEFENDANT! - I don't believe this. I can't believe it.

DEFENDANT! - You don't do this to somebody you love!

Defendant! - Yes?

You've heard the witness's testimony.

Remember that he already told you back then:

Your wife isn't the type to commit suicide?

I didn't believe it.

What you didn't believe is irrelevant.

Did you hear it? - Yes.

Thanks! No more questions to the witness.

Dr. Heinsheimer, are you a psychologist?

No. General practitioner.

So how can you circumstantiate such a grave statement,

which even a psychiatrist wouldn't make with such self-assurance?

On assumptions?

It hadn't been the first time the deceased had threatened suicide.

How do you know? Were you consulted back then?

No.

I was told so. - So you only know from hearsay?

Thanks, no more questions to the witness.

I have one more question! - Yes?

Who told you?

The sister of the deceased. - Thank you.

I request another hearing of the witness Sylvia Angermann.

Witness Sylvia Angermann!

So it had not been the first time?

No.

My sister had tried this several times before. - When?

Every time she was unable to get her own way.

Even as a child, she already used it. - Barbiturates? - No.

The threat to jump out of the window, to slit her wrists.

The barbiturates came later. - When? Please speak up!

The first time when she... My sister wanted to be a singer.

She took stage lessons but her voice wasn't sufficient.

Shortly before her first premiere the part was taken from her.

She went to her dressing room and took barbiturates. - How much?

Enough. Not enough to die, but for a scandal.

She got her part back and fell through.

But it was there that she met her first husband.

The opera had been issued by his publishing house.

The second time, a few years later,

the maid found him dead in front of Melanie's bed.

Heart failure.

He still held her suicide note in his hand.

She woke up without help.

So your sister had only threatened with suicide three times

before the last time when she was found dead? - Yes.

Did you inform the defendant about that? - Yes.

I never thought it possible that she would really do it!

Thanks, that's enough.

Lawyer? - No questions.

I request to ask the defendant a question.

Why didn't you tell your wife that you'd seen through

her playing with suicide?

Because I felt ashamed for her.

I felt sorry for her. - You felt sorry for her?

Pity is a very noble feeling, defendant.

No! It's an atrocious, horrible feeling

when we feel nothing but pity for a person!

It's the death of love. - "The death of love", very revealing.

Thanks.

I request the hearing of the witness Uhl.

The court is in recess until tomorrow.

We will start with the hearing of the witness Sabine Uhl.

I must ask you to stick to the truth, Miss Uhl.

The love letters which you wrote to the defendant

are available to the court and will be read out if necessary,

if you continue to insist that your relationship to the defendant

was just a usual one.

You are claiming that the defendant didn't want to divorce his wife

in your favor?

But he fired me because of her! - And started an affair with you.

Do you also think it's "usual"

for men to commit adultery without thinking of divorce?

Yes.

And you... you didn't demand from him to get divorced?

No. - Why not? - Because...

Because love doesn't demand anything. - Ah, so it was love after all!

No! - Stick to the truth! You've just said yourself

that it was love. - Yes, but... on my side.

I loved him. - And he didn't love you?

No.

When did this "unusual" relationship start? In the office?

No, only after my notice.

And then he came to your flat? - No, he didn't come to me.

We met purely by accident in a shop and...

I repeat: you're claiming that he didn't come to your flat.

No.

Mr. Ritter? - Yes. I still owe you an explanation, Miss Uhl.

But no, you don't need to give me any explanation.

Come in. - Thanks.

Excuse me. Home work.

Nobody's sick, huh?

Not at the moment.

Nobody's saying "Call Miss Uhl"?

Yes, it's been very empty at the publisher's since you left.

No flowers. And when I'm calling, only the owl comes.

Yes, I would've loved to keep you, Miss Uhl. But...

I don't even have an excuse, nor the right to come here.

I'm tied. Yes, tied up with tooth and nail.

Can you hear it? The hiss of the sea.

I'll never forget how you stood there on the beach...

"Watch out, the tide's coming"

And so, everything came back when I saw you again. A flood of memories.

Don't lie to yourself, Thomas. You were only sorry for my shoes.

Nothing remained.

Just our footprints in the sand. And not even them.

Now why are you saying this? When I saw you again, so much came back!

The sensation of freedom, yearning... Even a little bit of music.

When I saw you again I sensed,

I knew... - You knew nothing, Thomas.

And there was nothing between us. No wish, no hope...

And no guilt. And it's good this way, Thomas.

Why do you think that you cheated on her before she even lied to you?

Only when she tried to separate us with lies and with blackmail,

Only then did we realise...

that no one could separate us. - But she is separating us.

When do we see each other? For weeks, I wouldn't know of you

if it wasn't for your daily letter to my office.

There's nothing we can do, Thomas.

I wrote to you that I feel only pity for her.

Why did you pity his wife, witness Uhl

if he refused to get a divorce? - Because I was happy.

It can't go on like this, Sabine! Us always meeting secretly.

in Caf�s, at the museum. I must free myself...

Free myself from this pathetic pity.

It's the only thing that still ties me to her.

I'll ask her for the divorce.

What will you tell her?

Nothing about you. I mustn't get you involved with this too.

Lies, Thomas? Then everything will become a lie, even our love.

Mrs. Schwarz! - Mr. director?

Has my wife been here? - Yes, she wanted to talk to you.

But you didn't leave a note where you went.

So she waited a while... - Thanks.

No, no, Sophie! - But madam... - No, no, Sophie!

Just not today! You don't know what happened today! - But madam...

the surgery is necessary, I already told you last week.

Not today, Sophie! You mustn't leave me alone today! Please, just not today!

You've always had it comfortable here. I kept you during all those years.

Give this one evening to me. You mustn't leave me alone today!

I'm scared, Sophie!

I'm scared of myself. I don't know what I'll do if he leaves me.

You know me. - Yes.

I know you.

No, you don't.

None of you know what I'm really like.

You don't love me.

No one loves me.

And you're surprised by that?

After you've always only loved yourself? Always yourself!

Oh, leave me alone with my packing!

No Sophie, please stay just for tonight!

One single day more doesn't matter!

It does! The doctor said I've already waited far too long for the surgery.

And he already reserved the bed at the clinic for tonight.

Of course you will go, Sophie. Just finish your packing.

Thanks, Mr. Ritter, thank you.

Let me know when you're ready, I'll drive you to the clinic. - Yes.

You're driving her personally?

Probably you'll use that opportunity to visit your nightingale, huh?

No, I already met her. This afternoon, when you were at the publisher's.

Please give me the letters which you took from my desk.

Oh? No denying?

No apologies?

Just "Give me the letters"?

No my dear, I won't make it so easy for you!

They are the proof how right I was from the very beginning!

No Melanie, you weren't right.

There was nothing between us before you forced me to fire her.

Do you really think I haven't noticed how for weeks

your feelings for me have become weaker and weaker?

Am I really so pathetic

that you can only feel pity for me?

Pity! She wrote it!

Have you made me so pathetic in front of her

that she can only pity me?

She'll feel pity alright! I don't want pity and I feel no pity!

But her letters are proof enough! - You don't need any proof.

I'll take on all the blame for the divorce. - Divorce?

You want to get divorced from me? You from me?

Am I the one who cheated on you, to let go of you? Do you think

I should tell this stenotypist: "Here's my husband, good luck?"

No.

I've loved you too much to do that.

Loved?

You only loved of me what you possessed. Your exclusive possession.

You destroyed, suffocated everything of me which didn't belong to you,

first my music.

No. I can't live like this anymore.

You can't? And I? I?

Well, there are moments in life when one has to care only about oneself.

Egoist! - Yes.

Egoism produces egoism.

And there's a holy egoism of self-protection.

"A holy egoism"!

Then don't forget either that marriage is holy too and adultery indictable!

That adulterers and adulteresses can be reported!

That they get summoned, accused and convicted!

She won't sing anymore, your nightingale, I swear to it!

I swear to it! - Please yourself.

It's over between the two of us, either way.

It's been a long way from the first night

when I stood here in front of the mirror

and couldn't take my eyes off you.

Now I don't even feel pity for you anymore.

You've never loved me, so why not kill my right away!

But you'll regret this! You'll regret this all your life!

No, he didn't love me. He didn't care for me at all.

Your letters confirm the opposite! You're not focusing on the subject!

But I can swear to it! - I'd like to make a statement, please!

You can't just interrupt the hearing, defendant!

Prosecutor?

Go ahead. If the defendant wants to

prevent the witness from perjuring herself.

Thank you, witness Uhl.

You may sit down.

So you want to make a statement, defendant? - No.

I'd like to revoke a statement I made during the preliminary investigation.

Back then, I claimed that after the last quarrel with my wife

I didn't go back to her bedroom. That was a lie.

She was serious about her threat to take legal action against Sabine.

I knew it. I had to get the letters back for Sabine's sake.

I wanted to make one last, careful try.

When I entered her room, she was standing in front of the commode.

I said:

Let's be reasonable, Melanie.

Please give me the letters.

Your letters... Are they so precious to you that now you come crawling?

I'm willing to forget what just happened outside. - Oh, how nice!

And I? Should I also forget, so that the two of you can sleep calmly?

Could you sleep calmly if you destroyed a human being's life?

She destroyed mine. My marriage!

I'm trying to save what's left to be saved. - What?

You. From yourself.

I don't believe you.

Who is this about?

Me? Or her?

Please give me the letters.

I only thought of one thing: I mustn't let her have the proof!

The letters, which she had already brought to her lawyer that afternoon.

In the drawer which she had shut so quickly there was a casket.

I didn't find the letters in it. But an envelope.

An envelope with tablets.

Twelve sleeping tablets.

Presumably the rest of the package that we found on her night table.

Without thinking, I glanced over there and saw the glass.

I thought "She wouldn't try the same again, would she?"

But then I saw the remains of four tablets in the glass

that had not yet dissolved completely.

She must've had put them into the water a moment ago.

Four, just like back then.

Not enough to die and yet not an empty threat.

With an attempted suicide, she'd put a horrible weight onto

her accusation against Sabine. The poor wife!

Driven to suicide by the adulteress!

So I took the twelve tablets...

No!

...and put them beside the glass.

To demonstrate that I had seen through her and that her plan was useless.

Then somebody knocked. It was Sophie who had finished her packing.

She suffered from terrible pain. I drove her to the hospital.

And then I got myself drunk.

Does the defence wish to take a stand?

Thank you. The defendant's statement speaks for itself.

Why isn't he helping him? - Maybe he doesn't believe it either.

Prosecutor?

Have you made up this way out just now, defendant? - No, this is the truth.

It suffers from lateness. Why didn't you tell us this before?

Because it laid like a rope around my neck.

Because there are truths which you don't want to admit. - Which truths?

The truth that you are never completely innocent.

That I'm not completely innocent of my wife's death.

Isn't it enough that I put the fatal dose there, for her to find?

No, that's not enough! Now come on at last and make the final step!

You already were so close to the truth when you said:

"So I took the twelve tablets..."

What did you mean to say when Miss Uhl's horrified "No!"

kept you from telling a truth which she seems to know?

That's not true! - Miss Uhl! - Now come and finally say it aloud:

"So I took the twelve tablets and dashed the fatal dose into her glass."

No! No, I didn't do it!

I didn't do it! I didn't do it!

But if everyone's convinced that she never would've killed herself

and if he's telling the truth which I know he is, then who did it?

There was no one in the house except him and his wife... - And me.

Isn't that what you meant to say, Miss? - But you did hate her, did you not?

He told me. She refused to let you go even though you were very sick.

You waited for him and the car in front of her room.

And you could've noticed the tablets and...

I would've done it too!

No, you wouldn't. - Yes I would.

No. It's true I haven't shed a tear for her.

And there were times when I thought I could kill her.

But there's an abyss between thinking of something like this and doing it.

If only one step was needed to do it, there wouldn't be any men anymore.

They would've killed each other already.

Only children are innocent, madam. He claims not to be innocent himself.

And the witness Uhl seems to be doubtful too.

Why did she run away all of a sudden?

She went to the hospital to speak to Sophie.

My oh my, Sophie's been questioned long ago. Sure, I also thought

of this possibility once but she won't find the solution there.

You see, I've been operated on three times now and every time I thought

I wouldn't wake up anymore. In this situation, you atone for all your sins.

But I don't have one like that on my conscience.

Forgive me.

Please forgive me, but I...

I was so desperate and helpless.

But there's nothing to forgive if one loves like you do.

And thus, Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, the conclusion from the evidence

will leave you only one judgement: guilty!

Counsel for the defence?

Your honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury.

The prosecuter has not based his reasoning

on genuine evidence for the guilt of the defendant

but rather on psychological conditions

on motives and opportunities that could have induced

the defendant to commit murder.

The possibily that the defendant, being a husband of a wealthy wife

could've acted out of greed

has fallen apart so thoroughly during this trial

that the prosecutor didn't even mention it in his final speech.

What remains is the other motive:

That the defendant wanted to leave his wife for another woman.

It's safe to assume that to achieve this,

one doesn't usually commit murder

unless the person in question has an extremely hot-tempered,

brutal and violent personality.

Is that how we got to know the defendant?

On the contrary. The trial has proven him to be a conforming man,

always willing to make concessions,

rather too soft than too tough a character.

As opposed to his deceased wife

who knew how to hit her targets with an unflinchingly consequent will.

A woman about which none of the many witnesses didn't speak ill.

With one exception: Her lawyer

who has made himself an instrument of her egoism even after her death

and it is thanks to his blind admiration for the deceased

her husband is now standing before your eyes as a defendant.

Yes, thanks to that, honorable jurors, for that's exactly what she wanted.

A few hours before her death,

she handed over to this chief witness the material

with which she intended to tie one last noose around her husband's neck.

The trial has shown how she entrapped him into a cobweb,

carefully, stitch for stitch, loop for loop, finespun.

Until she had taken every freedom of movement from him, all independence,

every possibility to live a life of his own.

Bit by bit, she suffocated it, deadened it, murdered it.

Yes, murdered!

In the same subtle psycholigical way

which cost the life of her first husband

and for which unfortunately, there isn't any way of legal handling.

Otherwise, she would sit in the defendant's place today

who has been accused solely based on motives and opportunities,

as if between opportunity and action,

between motive and deed,

there wasn't still the human being and its conscience.

After all, between motives for murder, opportunities for murder,

psychological conditions for murder

there's still the moral character of mankind

that used to be called the bondaries of pious awe,

the respect for the lives of others - something the deceased did not have.

With such an attitude it's just one step from the destruction of others

to self-destruction.

Why doesn't the prosecutor believe that the deceased made this last step?

He reasons that a person who has repeatedly threatened with suicide

would never get serious about it. Perhaps this argument is fitting

for the majority of people but in no case for the deceased

who always carried out her will with unyielding determination.

The prosecutor has based his accusation on psychology.

Unfortunately,

he has failed to put himself into the psychological situation

of this woman after she returned to her bedroom that night.

When she left it, she didn't mean to carry it through to the bitter end

but the defendant had disarmed her by taking the weapon of simulated suicide

from her for good when he put the tablets next to her glass.

She must have felt seen through, unmasked

humiliated, ridiculed.

No! No!

Thomas? Sophie?

Thomas!

Remaining in her house, left alone by everybody,

unloved, betrayed by her husband,

for the first time without any power over him

and yet not completely powerless.

Her death and his guilt for it should weigh on his conscience all his life,

this was the power she would have over him even in death.

Oh, I've thrown them away!

I have to count... How many do I have?

3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. It's enough.

Yes, it's enough.

Not to let go of him, that was her last thought.

For even though her love was baleful and disastrous for herself and others,

in her own way, she loved him, with an exclusivity

and imperturbable faithfulness, with this destructive love

which didn't shy away even from self-destruction.

If the defendant is guilty of anything,

it's that he, just like the prosecutor, did not consider

how the discovery of the tablets had to affect such an extreme character.

Wether this intent

met with scorn in his soul or even with the hope

that she might take the tablets and finish everything, we don't know.

Nobody knows what happened in his soul

in this confused, desperate moment.

Maybe not even he himself.

But he'll have to settle this alone with his conscience.

It's not what you are here to judge, ladies and gentlemen of the jury.

The accusation is either murder or manslaughter and juristically,

you cannot find him guilty of this.

I therefore request acquittal of the defendant.

Thomas! - Yes?

You're sitting here as if you were still on trial.

Yes, Zacharias relieved me of the accusation.

But there's guilt which you can't rid yourself of so easily.

How did he put it?

"He'll have to settle it alone with his conscience..." - Forget it, Thomas.

We are here, were we started, as if everything else didn't happen.

What was it for then, Sabine? Just so that one forgets as quickly as possible

how dangerously close one is walking to the abyss?

How easily the thought of murder comes to mind.

No.

I feel like I was lucky enough to get released on probation

to show that I could improve.

One walks more securely when knowing the abyss, Thomas.

Come!

Look... the tide is coming.

Subtitled by Draxtra, AnDeRsSoN and RudolfLemkeSchmidt - 05/2011

Special thanks to Toestubber and mcduck