Original subtitles

Translation and timing by: @anditendshowyoudexpect(.tumblr.com)

Look how much snow there is outside the town.

It's the first snow, it will melt quickly.

I don't like it here, let's turn back.

You must have learned History of the Russian State by heart then.

I did study.

Did study, never learned.

Do you want to pass the exam? - Yeah.

Then stop whining.

- Are you sure it's going to work? - I am.

There used to be a pagan temple in the olden days.

If you put a coin on the red rock

and make a wish,

it will definitely come true.

How much longer?

Almost there.

Take out your coin.

A head!

Help!

Episode 31 THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN

Come on in.

Good day, Yakov Platonovich.

This envelope must be delivered to St. Petersburg urgently.

Head out immediately. - Will do.

Excuse me!

Are you Anna Viktorovna Mironova?

Yes. What is the matter?

You alone can help me.

Right... please, sit.

What happened to you?

Yevgeny has been murdered... this morning.

He was someone close to me.

I am so sorry for your loss.

I have to know who murdered him.

Please, help me.

Summon his spirit.

I can't.

I don't do this anymore.

But you can.

You speak to them.

I already know who did it

but I have to make sure.

No, no, no, I can't, I don't do this anymore.

I'm sorry.

I was told you were kind and help people.

I'm sorry.

This is new.

Where is the rest?

God knows.

Have you identified the victim?

Yevgeny Kuzmin, an ethnographer from St. Petersburg.

The locals recognized him.

When did he move to these parts?

He arrived about two months ago.

He was staying with Mitskevich, the owner of this land.

What about the tracks?

What tracks, Yakov Platonovich?

Congratulations on the first snow.

[What do they think they're doing?!]

[We'll tell them everything, let them take action!]

Stop, men, you can't go farther, this is a crime scene.

- We stopped, we stopped! - We know! That's why we came.

It's all those Cheremis!

They let them live on our land, and look what they're doing!

[It's a sect!]

See for yourself, sir,

they have the same soil, the same grain,

but they harvest twice as much!

Just because they offer bloody sacrifices to their idols!

Come here, lad, let's talk.

- What is your name? - Senka, sir.

That is, Arseniy.

What is this sect you were shouting about?

They live over there, near our village.

They call themselves Kugu Sorta, phooey!

What makes you think they murdered him?

Who else?

They have this ancient tradition to cut off victims' heads.

You can tell it's a ritual killing.

Look, you should calm your men.

The police will deal with everything.

We'll find the murderer, and if you people try to take the law into your hands,

you'll be the first to answer for it. Got it?

Got it, I'm not an idiot.

Well, if you got it, go on.

- Let's go, guys! - What?

The gentlemen won't understand us.

I'll go see Tregubov and tell him what's going on here.

You go to Mitskevich,

find out everything about that ethnographer and that sect.

What about the head?

Send it to Dr. Milz!

I am speechless.

Speechless. This is heinous.

They cut his head off. I can't believe this...

- Aleksandr Nikolaevich! - Aleksey Petrovich, how good of you to come.

This is my friend, Aleksey Petrovich Turchaninov.

Nice to meet you.

Aleksandr Nikolaevich, stay strong.

I'm sure the police will find the culprits.

Have you questioned the suspects, do you have theories?

When did you last see Mr. Kuzmin?

Yesterday afternoon, around 5.

He was about to go to the Cheremis.

Why would he go there?

Well, it's because of them that he came here.

He wrote a paper on them, you see, an ethnographic research.

Cheremis, Cheremis... Who are they anyway?

Mari Christians, they called themselves Kugu Sorta.

"Big Candle."

Have they lived on your land long?

About a year.

Do you remember the much-publicized trial in Vyatka Governorate?

All leaders of the sect were exiled to Siberia after it.

And the common folk were all scattered.

That's when I leased the land to several families.

Making a big mistake, Aleksandr Nikolaevich.

How did you meet Kuzmin?

He wrote to me about two months ago,

as he had heard that there were several Cheremis families living here.

So I invited him to mine.

- And he stayed with you all this time? - Yes, in the annex.

May I take a look?

Certainly.

Aleksey Petrovich, would you take him there?

I don't feel well at all. - Of course.

Please, come.

Oh my God...

How long have you known Mr. Mitskevich?

About a year.

We met at a poker tournament, he cleaned me right out.

I knew right there he was a most honorable man.

The only thing you should know about him

is that he is a person of the most noble nature,

often to his own detriment. - What do you mean?

He was the only one who agreed to accommodate those Kugu Sorta.

And how did they repay him?

Look, the culprits haven't been found yet, and the investigation has just begun.

Right.

Go on, my good man.

Yakov Platonovich. - Bon appetit, Nikolai Vasilievich.

Thank you. Please, sit down.

Thank you, I'm not hungry.

How did we get here?

It's like in that novel.

By what's his name...

The Headless Horseman.

- Mayne Reid. - Mein Gott!

There is a head, but no horseman.

The body hasn't been found yet, has it?

We're looking for it.

Yakov Platonovich, we have to figure this case out as soon as possible.

Yes.

And punish the culprits to avoid public unrest.

This is exactly why I was looking for you.

Please, give orders to send a few officers to guard the Cheremis.

The peasants have already headed out there, convinced of their guilt.

But you have your doubts?

There aren't many versions.

But even if any of them are guilty,

they rest shouldn't be harmed for it.

Right.

Take ten men or so

and go to those...

Kugu Sorta

to guard them until the conclusion of investigation.

Will do.

Still, how about... 50 gram?

Thank you, I am on duty.

Osip, my man, horseradish, please.

Very well, sir.

Please, come in.

Are these drafts of his book?

Did you know Mr. Kuzmin well?

No. He and I spoke

no more than twice.

I found him

very enthusiastic about his work.

Sir, are you with the police?

Anton Andreyevich Korobeinikov, Head of the Investigations Department.

What can I do for you? - Olga Aleksandrovna Mitskevich.

Do you have a suspect yet?

For this heinous murder?

I can't tell you anything about this yet.

This was a ritual killing, Olga Aleksandrovna.

I will be very surprised if it wasn't the Cheremis.

Nonsense, Aleksey Petrovich.

The Cheremis loved Yevgeny Lvovich.

Why would they murder him?

But there is someone who wanted him dead very much, isn't there?

What was she talking about, Mr. Turchaninov?

You see...

A while ago,

I proposed to Olga Aleksandrovna.

At that time, Mr. Kuzmin arrived at the estate and

upset my plans.

So, he was your rival in love?

The lucky rival.

Believe me, I took my defeat with dignity.

Love cannot be forced.

Where were you yesterday in the evening and at night?

Of course, I don't have any secrets.

We played poker until late yesterday.

Here, at the Mitskeviches'.

A few friends were there as well, you can ask them.

I'm sure they will confirm it.

Turchaninov had a motive--

he loved Olga Mitskevich, who chose another man over him.

Where was he that night?

He played poker at Mitskevich's, with three more people,

I'll interview them tomorrow.

Look at this.

The same as the one on the red rock.

Ancestors of modern Cheremis offered heads of sacrificial animals

to their supreme deity, the god of the Sun Kugu Jumo.

They resorted to the ritual very rarely,

only in case of a truly great disaster.

Written down by me as told by Aksinia Shumatova,

96 years of age.

So, it was definitely the Cheremis.

A most beautiful city.

How many times have you been there?

Shush, don't scare them off!

Oh, the jam! I'll get it--

No, don't bother them.

Oh my God, what a couple...

They look like they were made for each other.

All right, I have to go.

And where are you going at this hour, ma'am?

Not to see Mr. Rebushinsky? - None of your business.

Keep looking, keep looking, you'll tell me everything when I get back.

Yes, ma'am.

Tell me, Andrey Petrovich...

Have you ever been to Turkestan?

I have.

Samarkand... a breathtaking city.

Remarkable ancient monuments.

Why are you asking?

I'm just fascinated by exotic things.

You and I are alike in this.

My dream is to show you the world.

Well...

Your dream may come true.

Anna Viktorovna, what's wrong?

Oh God...

Who are you?

What do you want?

You must save the innocent.

The innocent? How do I save them?

The sun

moves from west to east.

Anna Viktorovna.

Have you decided where you want to go first?

Turkestan, Indonesia, or perhaps Morocco?

Morocco.

Would you like more tea? - Yes, I'd love to.

What can I say, Yakov Platonovich...

It looks like death occurred

sometime between 7 and 9 p.m. yesterday.

Can you say what was used to separate the head from the body?

An axe, most likely.

Maybe even a cleaver.

Look how smooth and confident these cuts are...

In a word,

this was done by a cool-headed person who knew exactly what they were doing.

I hope the head was cut off after Mr. Kuzmin had died?

Without a doubt, but I won't be able to give you

the accurate cause of death until the body is found.

What kind of beast did this...

There is only one beast capable of this, Aleksandr Franzevich.

Human.

Good morning.

- Morning, Ivan Yevgenyevich. - I left my stethoscope here yesterday.

Oh, here it is.

I see you are in a good mood.

Yes.

Once I made the decision, I started feeling better.

I very much hope you won't regret it.

Even if I do regret it, I won't have anyone but myself to blame.

Fair enough.

Excuse me, a patient is waiting for me.

Sir!

Are you here to arrest the pagans?

All right, about time!

We are here to talk to Aksinia Shumatova.

Do you know where she lives? - Sure.

That house over there. Shall I show you the way?

We'll manage.

As you wish.

Spare us, spare us, mercy, kind sirs, mercy!

- Get up, come on, get up... - Kind sirs, mercy...

- Stop crying, calm down-- - We're no murderers, no murderers--

- What is your name? - Maria... Shumatova.

Does Aksinia Shumatova live here?

She does, she does, she is my husband's grandmother, the elder of the family.

What is this strange noise?

The cow is in labor,

the poor animal has been at it for a day now...

Take us to Aksinia.

Yes, yes, please, come, gentlemen.

- Did Kuzmin visit you often? - Very often, sir,

kept asking about our traditions and customs...

Don't believe the dirty rumors.

Do you think we would hurt him?

Here.

Come on in, come on in.

An investigator from the town is here.

He wants to ask you about Yevgeny.

Go.

Anton Andreyevich, examine the yard.

I want to ask you a few questions.

Did you know the late Yevgeny Kuzmin well?

I knew him.

You told him about the religion and traditions of Kugu Sorta, didn't you?

Yes.

It says here that

he drew this based on what you told him.

Why did he draw it?

I don't understand.

It's a sin.

We could do it before, but not now.

Grain is fine, bread is fine.

Candle is fine.

But no blood!

Nice farmstead you have here.

Where is your husband?

He went to the market,

to sell meat.

Is he a butcher?

Why won't you go help the cow?

- What were you going to do?! - I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry...

- Where are you-- - Hold her!

Mom, I'm scared...

It looks like Kuzmin was mistaken.

The Cheremis still perform this ritual.

What was I supposed to do?

I have to save my son!

He should go to the hospital, now. Call the officers. - Will do.

He is having an epileptic seizure. Bromide, intravenously.

Yes, yes...

Right...

He is still unconscious.

It's common after a seizure. He'll come to soon.

Why did they bring him in so late?!

Good thing he was brought here at all.

Ignorance and obscurantism everywhere.

To save him, his mother cut off a pig's head, can you imagine?

Cut off the head?

Some kind of sect. They have already been arrested

and charged with the murder of the visiting ethnographer.

Whose head was also cut off, by the way. What kind of town is this?

He said, save the innocent.

- Who? - The ethnographer.

- Anna Viktorovna. - Ivan Yevgenyevich...

I can't help it.

I hope something in your life will change and you

will finally stop having these endless conversations with dead people.

Yes, yes, it's what I want, too.

Where did you hide the body?

What body?

I don't know anything!

Here he is, sir, Gavrila Shumatov.

We caught him at the fair. - Well done. You may go.

Go on, tell us where you were last night.

Gavrila, don't tell them anything.

Quiet, quiet.

This is a serious charge.

I do not recommend remaining silent.

Do you want to leave your son an orphan? Be quiet!

I told you we shouldn't have broken the rule.

God will punish us!

But I-- I--

But I only-- I only did it for my son!

Only for my son!

Tell us the truth. We'll take care of your son.

Did you make the ritual sacrifice?

Yes!

Our son was dying. There was no other way!

Go on. Give us the details.

We took it to the woods.

There we slaughtered it and cut off its head, as tradition says.

Who is that "it"?

The pig!

What pig? What is this nonsense?

You-- What do you take us for?

If you want a fool, look in the mirror!

Who murdered the ethnographer?

I don't know. What ethnographer?

I see. Lock these two up!

Take some time to think about it.

Gavrila...

Look closer, maybe you'll find some tracks.

How would I see any tracks with this much snow?

- Come over here. - Why?

- I think this is our ethnographer. - Yeah.

Can't mistake this one for anyone else.

He has a distinguishing mark: no head.

What is this? A piece of fabric.

Evidence. We should send for Anton Andreyevich.

Right. Hold it.

Where have you been?

At work. Where else could I have been?

You are always working.

I sit here alone all day long,

feeling absolutely unneeded.

God, Liza, what is it with you?

You no longer pay me any attention, Victor!

I'm not doing this for myself, you know.

I want you to have everything,

you know, everything you want.

Those hats and outfits and

other whims of yours also cost money.

You haven't given me any outfits in a long time.

You told me we would go to Nice but never took me even to St. Petersburg.

We're stuck in this damned Zatonsk.

I can't even go outside, because everybody is pointing fingers at me...

Well, I am in the same position, however,

you don't see me complaining.

It's easier for you.

You're a man.

But I...

What will I do if you get tired of me?

Where will I go?

Stop it, Liza, what are you saying?

I love you more than life. - Really?

Of course, silly.

Yakov Platonovich, there are no signs of struggle on the body.

No grazes, no bruises, nothing.

No cuts. It means that death was instantaneous.

The victim didn't fight back.

Can you say anything about the cause of death?

Come here.

Look.

He was stabbed with a knife right here.

By the way, where did you find the body?

Around 100 meters from the spot where the head had been found.

Mr. Kuzmin must have been murdered and then

his head was cut off and carried to the altar.

Oh, I forgot to tell you something.

No less than 6 hours passed

between the murder and the decapitation.

Are you sure?

You wound me, Yakov Platonovich.

Why would the murderer want to wait so long?

Perhaps the ritual required it?

It is my honor to present you

the new-- not now! --Dame's Rocket.

Well? - Oh my God...

Oh my God, Pyotr Ivanovich... - That's right.

Adorable!

A French formula.

Cost me so much money, I must say.

I also have the design...

Design of the bottle. Maria Timofeyevna!

Developed by Rene Lalique himself.

It also cost me a pretty penny.

I'm sure that not a single woman of fashion

will pass on your eau de parfum!

By the way, when will it appear in the shops?

Maria Timofeyevna, you must remember,

we talked about this.

As soon as your novel is released.

Speaking of which, how is it going, how long till the magical word "Fin"?

Only a few chapters left.

- I see. - But I still haven't decided how it ends.

Why don't you consult me?

Ask me and I will give you an idea.

Or ask Annette. She is very imaginative, too.

Indeed.

Her insane idea to go to Turkestan

and treat cholera alone...

She still hasn't gotten this whim out of her head?

I hope she has.

- What? - By the way...

She spends time with Kliuyev again.

This makes me immensely happy.

But I won't say anything else, I'm afraid to jinx it.

Well, thank God for that.

Kliuyev loves her so much, so tenderly.

He dueled for her.

This means something.

Ingenious...

What if the novel ends with a duel?

The rivals advance...

Suddenly, my Agatha shows up,

stands between them...

I must think about this version immediately!

Wait, Maria Timofeyevna.

A duel because of Agatha?

But she is an abandoned, heartbroken woman...

That was in the first five chapters!

And I am now on Chapter 30!

Maria Timofeyevna! Maria Timofeyevna!

- Anna Viktorovna... - Good day, Yakov Platonovich.

How is your little patient?

He came round. But the boy has epilepsy and needs treatment.

You did well bringing him here.

Are his parents detained on suspicion of murder?

I'm afraid so.

That's bad.

Kuzmin's spirit came to me and said the innocent must be saved.

I think he meant them.

He also said,

"The sun moves from west to east."

What could it mean?

I don't know.

I'm grateful that

you're speaking to me like before.

This is not like before, Yakov Platonovich.

You have caused me a lot of pain.

I'm grateful to you for it.

Now I know exactly what really matters in life.

Thank you.

Olenka.

I was told you hadn't eaten.

I'm not hungry.

Open the door, please. Let's talk.

Olenka, my darling girl,

I know how hard this is for you.

I was wrong, wrong about

poor Yevgeny Lvovich, I'm sorry!

Dad!

I don't want Mr. Turchaninov to come to our house!

Darling, but why? Aleksey Petrovich is my friend

and he treats you well, harbors no ill feelings...

When I rejected him,

he smiled such a nasty smile and said that

sooner or later, I would be his.

Olenka...

It doesn't make him a murderer.

And how could he have murdered him? He was with me all evening!

Good night, Dad.

Well, gentlemen.

Congratulations!

Good news.

There is nothing to congratulate us on, Nikolai Vasilievich.

But there is.

The Cheremis have been caught and the case has been solved.

It's not that simple.

We too were sure at first that the Shumatovs had murdered Kuzmin.

That Gavrila alone... He's a butcher, cutting a head off is a piece of cake for him.

Their guilt hasn't yet been proved. - True.

Dr. Milz established that the head was separated from the body

6 hours after the murder.

What do you say to that?

Maybe it was Maria?

Maybe she murdered him on her own.

She ambushed the ethnographer and stabbed him in the neck.

And then she came to her husband and confessed:

this and that happened, the ethnographer is dead anyway,

let's perform this ritual,

that's at least some chance to save the boy.

They have their own quirks, you know.

I don't know...

Something isn't right here.

What isn't right?

I have a feeling.

I remember you used to rely on nothing but facts.

If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'll take my leave,

I have business to attend to in town.

Of course, Anton Andreyevich, go, see you tomorrow, and

don't lose your head.

See you tomorrow, gentlemen.

Where does he keep rushing off to?

You would have to drag him out of the restaurant not long ago.

Well...

To the good news!

Still, the Cheremis didn't do it.

Anton Andreyevich, good evening.

Andrey Petrovich.

I see you're taking an interest in new book releases.

I ordered a guide to Morocco.

I haven't been there in a while.

Are you planning a trip?

Anything is possible, anything is possible.

It was nice to see you.

- Take care. - Goodbye.

Anton Andreyevich, I didn't expect you to come by today.

Why is that?

The horrible murder of that ethnographer is the talk of the town.

The crime is solved, the murderers are under arrest.

I'm so glad to hear it!

However, I see that you weren't bored in my absence.

I see you are jealous.

What makes you think that?

But yes...

I am jealous...

I am madly jealous.

Wait.

You don't trust me, do you? You think I can deceive you?

- No-- - Yes, you're right, we rushed into this engagement.

Pelageia, no, please, don't say that!

I--

I can't believe my luck and--

I'm afraid it may slip away.

I shouldn't have insulted you with my jealousy.

You know, I was imagining our life together this afternoon,

I thought about seeing you off to work in the morning...

You should show me your apartment.

Really?

I want to see how you live.

Of course, I will show you everything.

Although the place needs cleaning up first...

The sun moves from west to east...

Here is another one.

Her heart started beating, excited-- Excited!

...excited by the anticipation of love.

She walked to the mirror, she looked herself over, she touched--

her luscious hair...

"I am beautiful still," Agatha thought.

Here as well!

In this scene, the heroine must take a bottle of Dame's Rocket and put it on.

Excuse me, Pyotr Ivanovich!

She already put on Dame's Rocket 10 pages ago!

And I wrote

that she wears it in moments of sorrow!

Maria Timofeyevna, you are the author! You wrote it, so you can rewrite it!

Not just in moments of sorrow and melancholy,

but also in moments of sweet, joyous excitement!

Remem-- The point is that whatever happens,

go for Dame's Rocket!

This is absolutely impossible!

My novel is about a woman's heart, not about your perfume!

If you had your way, you'd put your Dame's Rocket on every page!

Not true, Maria Timofeyevna!

Let me remind you... Not on every page at all!

Please, take a look.

Dame's Rocket is mentioned on pages 6, 17, 44 and 73!

4 times. Only 4 times!

It should be at least 10!

6 more times! - Are you insane?!

3, and that's it!

5.

You won't even get 4.

Maria Timofeyevna... I'm not doing this for myself, you know.

I'm doing this for your book. - No.

My book is good enough without your perfume.

Oh, it's like that? Do as you will.

Fine! 4.

But, Maria Timofeyevna, may I ask you

to write it in such a way as to

describe this fragrance in its entirety?

In a profound, truly artistic manner,

to make it almost tangible...

A page or so--

Pyotr Ivanovich, stop pestering me!

What is it with you? We're working towards the same goal,

you must admit it, after all, we're coauthors--

I know how to write my own novel [I love you.]

and how many pages I should give to your fragrance!

Well, let's discuss this! After all, I'm not your enemy, am I?

THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN

Translation and timing by: @anditendshowyoudexpect(.tumblr.com)