All language subtitles for Forever - 1x14 - Hitler on the Half Shell.HDTV.LOL.en

110 over 70.

You have the blood
pressure of a 30-year-old.

Well, that's not surprising.

I was always young at heart, you know.

- Abraham, is everything okay?
- Relax, relax.

The life insurance
company needed a physical

before they could re-up my policy,

so they sent this nice,
young lady to check me out.

I'd be happy to examine you, as well.

We're offering a special
rate on our premium life plan,

if you're interested.

Guarantees total financial coverage

if you die unexpectedly.

I, uh... I'm fine, thank you.

I'm already covered.

All right.

Okay, so, all we have left

is a full accounting of your
family's medical history,

starting with your parents.

Oh, well, that's gonna be tough. Uh...

I never knew their names.

They died in Poland right
about the time I was born.

Oh.

I'm so sorry.

Well, it wasn't your fault.

Well, then, I have all I need. Thank you.

Okay.

I'll, uh... I'll show you out.

Sorry again.

The average person is said
to apologize 12 times a day.

Often, it's to atone for a past wrong,

an attempt to heal an old wound.

But there are some wounds
that can never be healed.

They run too deep.

We can always research the archives

at the Holocaust Museum again.

Perhaps they found some
records about your parents.

No, they can't find
anything without a last name.

I've always wondered about where
they might have come from or...

what they might have looked like.

Anyway, you can dwell on the past or, um...

Or what?

Appreciate the present,
focus on cheerier things.

Hello.

Oh.

Just a moment.

It's, uh, Jo for you.

There's been a murder.

So much for cheerier things.

Hello, Detective.

My God.

No, it's not very pretty, is it?

Actually, it's gorgeous.

It's an Andolini Venus.

A reproduction, obviously.

The real one was stolen
from the Louvre years ago.

It's exquisite nonetheless.

Look how the artist captured
the lines of the body

almost perfectly.

Fascinating.

I'm a little more concerned
with the body on the floor.

Guy's name is Karl Haas.

Neighbor said he's some kind of art dealer.

Maid found the body this morning,

said the door was locked from the inside.

Killer got in through the broken window.

C.S.I. tech found blood on the glass.

They sent it off to the lab.

We can rule out robbery. Guy's
still got his wallet on him.

Nothing seems to be
missing from the apartment.

I would not be so sure about that.

All these canvases have
been cut out of the frames.

Looks like the killer got away with seven.

Eight, actually.

There's a faint discoloration on the wall

where a painting hung until recently.

The killer must have taken
it with him when he left.

Why would someone cut out seven paintings

but take this one, frame and all?

More importantly,

whatever he was struck with
must have been extremely heavy.

Looks as if it left an
imprint on his skull.

Tell me that is not...

A swastika.

What kind of murder weapon
leaves that on a body?

During the third Reich,
the Nazis became obsessive

about marking everything
they came into contact with

as property of the state,
especially items of value.

This statue is the murder weapon.

What's more, it isn't a fake.

It's the actual Andolini Venus,

stolen by the Nazis in 1940
as they marched on Paris.

So what the hell is it doing
in this guy's apartment?

Synced by emmasan
www.addic7ed.com

Caliper probe.

- Lucas.
- Yeah.

Sorry. Sorry.

It's just, a swastika embedded
into a dead guy's head,

stolen Nazi art...

What is this guy, Indiana Jones?

Who's Indiana Jones?

Is that a joke?

Seriously?

Hey, Doc.

We did some digging on Karl's background.

Meet his father,

the S.S. Commandant Otto Heydrich.

Guy was part of Hitler's inner circle.

According to his file,

Otto Heydrich was head of some task force,

the Rosenberg Reichsl...

Reichsleiter.

They were an elite group of S.S. officers

who were responsible for
stealing priceless works of art

as the Nazis conquered Europe.

Well, after the war, Otto
changed his name to "Haas,"

fled to the U.S.,

and took a hundred works of art with him.

He died in New York in 1980

and left everything to Karl here.

Means his dad and him were
basically grave robbers.

If you ask me, this guy
got everything he deserved.

You might want to keep that to yourself.

The victim's son is here.

Did your father have any
enemies that you know of?

I don't think so.

But, honestly, I'm the wrong person to ask.

I haven't talked to my dad in a few years.

We were never really close.

He spent hours locked away in
his study with his paintings.

The only time he ever went
out was to meet with clients.

Did your father ever mention

where he acquired his art collection?

From my grandfather.

He owned a small gallery in Berlin.

Thankfully, he made it out of
Germany with most of the work

before the Nazis took power. Why?

There are a few things about
your family you should know.

Erik, your grandfather
wasn't fleeing the Nazis.

He was one of them.

All the artwork in his
collection was stolen,

then smuggled into the U.S. after the war.

No, there has to, um...

There has to be some mistake.

And it seems your father knew
of the collection's provenance,

which likely explains
why he was so secretive.

This can't be true.

They were both...

Good men.

Henry Morgan!

Hello, John! It's been ages.

Where have you been keeping yourself?

At home, mostly.

My father was taken ill recently,

but thankfully, he's on the mend.

Oh, good, good.

Uh, Henry, I believe you know everyone,

with the exception

of our new friend visiting
from the west Indies.

This is Nathaniel Hawkes.

Nathaniel, meet Dr. Henry Morgan.

Pleasure.

"Morgan."

Any connection to the
Morgan Shipping Company?

Yes. As it happens, it's
my father's business.

I see.

Yes, your family's quite
well-known in the west Indies.

Every day, Morgan Shipping
vessels arrive in our harbors

filled, as often as not,
with their shameful cargo.

What do you mean by that?

Please, Dr. Morgan.

Your pretense may well be indulged

in the cozy clubs in London,

but where I'm from, we call
things for what they are.

The Morgan Shipping Company

is an active participant
in the slave trade.

I'm afraid you're mistaken, sir.

I myself am not directly involved

with the family's business,

but I can assure you

we have nothing to do with
the exchange of slaves.

You've been mislead.

Gentlemen, please help me correct this man

for his own good.

I think it is you who has been mislead.

I told Erik to call us

if he came across his father's client list,

but I wouldn't hold my breath.

I think he's still trying
to process everything.

Must be hard to accept that
your father spent his entire life

profiting from the death of
millions of innocent people.

Well, we have to assume whoever killed Karl

knew about his secret collection.

Problem is, this guy had
no cellphone, no email,

nothing in his house
except for an old landline.

Then might I suggest
we start with his shoes?

Water stains on his heels
show traces of sodium bromide.

Which, in English, means...?

Seawater.

The soles of his shoes
are saturated in carratine,

which is a highly toxic wood sealant

that hasn't been
manufactured since the '70s.

In fact, the last time carratine was used

was to treat the boardwalk
planks at Brighton Beach.

Impressive, but it still doesn't tell us

where he was going and
who he was meeting with.

No, but this might.

A 1933 Patek Philippe.

It's among the more rare
watches of the last century.

And it looks to me as if
it's been recently serviced.

It's pretty nice.

"Nice" is a bit of an understatement.

Figuratively speaking, this is
the Lamborghini of timepieces.

There are only a certain
number of watchmakers

who are qualified to work with this watch.

Let me guess.

One of them is in Brighton Beach.

Oh, I'm sorry. We're closed.

Detective Martinez, NYPD.

Are you the owner of this shop?

Yeah.

Eli Swier. What can I do for you?

We're looking for information

on a man we think is one of your customers.

He doesn't look familiar.

Why do you think he would have been here?

Faces can be hard to remember,

but a man like yourself might
find this hard to forget.

Where did you get this?

We found it on the man I
just showed you a photo of.

He was murdered in his
apartment last night.

Karl is dead?

So you do know him?

Why would you try and hide
that from us, Mr. Swier?

I gave him this watch two days ago.

It was a gift.

This watch is probably worth $50,000.

That's a very generous gift.

Well, the gift Karl gave
to me was far more valuable.

Here.

That's an original Claude
Monet, "Water Lilies."

1889, judging by its style.

- It's...
- Got to be worth millions.

Yes. But for me, it's priceless.

This painting belonged to my family.

See, when the Nazis came
to power, I was a child.

I was sent to New York.

My parents were arrested,
and I never saw them again.

Then, one day, Karl
called, a complete stranger.

He said he had tracked down a painting

that was rightfully mine.

And he... he never asked for a dime,

just that I speak of it, of him, to no one.

Did you ever ask him

how he obtained the
painting in the first place?

He told me his father was Otto Heydrich,

and that's why he wanted
to return the painting.

Karl wanted to return

all of the stolen art in
his father's collection

to the rightful owners.

All of it? Not just this?

"Ein guter mensch entschuldigt sich

"fuer die fehler der vergangenheit.

Ein echter mensch korrigiert sie."

It's a Goethe quote.

"A good man apologizes for
the mistakes of the past,

but a great man corrects them."

Karl Haas was...

was a great man.

So, you're saying this Karl Haas guy

turned out to be a real mensch.

It seems that Karl never sold

any of the Nazi art that his father stole.

In fact, he spent his whole life

trying to return the art
to its rightful heirs.

Well, if that's true, why
be so secretive about it?

Well, I suppose one obvious answer is

that he didn't want to
be further associated

with who his father
really was, a war criminal.

Well, I guess it didn't work out, then.

Because he was killed?

No. You said he changed his
name, hid out in his apartment,

had a crappy relationship with his kid,

so, uh, he couldn't escape it.

Luckily, we're only responsible
for our own sins in this world.

Can you imagine if I tried to carry around

your 200 years of craziness?

Abe...

You have been blessed with many gifts,

one of which is having a sinfree father.

Ah.

You know, it's not just our father's sins

that we sons are not responsible for.

It's also their scarves.

Honestly, would you just butch up?

Hello?

They ran the sample of blood

we found on the window
at Karl Haas' apartment.

DNA didn't match anyone
with a criminal record,

but they did find it in a different system,

something called the A.R.N.?

The Artistic Registry Network.

Yes, it's a DNA database

for famous artists from the 20th century.

Historians use it

to authenticate works without a signature.

Are you saying that our
suspect is an artiste?

Yeah, report says his name is Max Brenner.

Only problem is, he's
got a pretty good alibi.

Max Brenner's been dead for 20 years.

You know, you kind of take
the fun out of these reveals.

Bring the blood sample to the lab.

I'll meet you there.

Good news?

It seems our victim was
murdered by a dead man.

Ah, well, I guess I won't wait up.

So, maybe I'm missing something.

If this Max Brenner guy's
been dead since the '90s,

how'd he break into an
apartment and kill Karl Haas?

Well, it's quite simple, actually.

Max Brenner is a zombie Nazi hunter. Huh?

What? We were all thinking it.

Max Brenner is dead,

but his "Y" chromosome is
very much alive and well.

The "Y" chromosome
passes from father to son

with little variation in the sequence.

So the sample doesn't belong to Max.

But rather someone he's related to.

Sam Brenner.

Sam Brenner. NYPD. Open up.

Sounds like a chain saw.

Drop the chain saw!

That's disgusting.

What the hell is all this crap?

It's called art.

NYPD.

We're investigating a case
involving a man named Karl Haas.

- Ever heard of him?
- Uh, name doesn't ring a bell.

You mind telling us where
you were two nights ago?

I was here, working.

Show opens in a week.

I don't imagine there was anyone else here

to verify that, right?

What's this all about, anyway?

Hey, be careful with that.
You don't even have gloves on.

It's a bit more polished
than the rest of this.

Better, too, to the untrained eye.

Yeah, it's the center
of my whole exhibition.

I was just getting ready
to ship it to the gallery.

So you made this?

That's right.

Are you sure about that?

You sure you don't want lawyer?

No need. I stole the painting.

It belonged to my grandfather.

I asked Karl to return it a bunch of times,

but he always shut me down.

That why you killed him?

What?

Karl's dead?

See, I'm thinking he caught you
trying to steal your painting.

You two got in a fight.

Whoa, whoa, you guys think I did it?

Aw, come on, Sam.

You already admitted that
you broke into his apartment.

You got it all wrong.

I snuck in through the window.

I realized Karl was there.

He was on the phone, all worked up,

arguing with somebody in German, I think.

Any idea who he was on the phone with

and what they were arguing about?

No idea.

Sogar der Rembrandt!

But I did hear the name "Rembrandt."

He was alive when I left.

I swear.

I believe he's telling the truth.

What makes you so sure?

Sam obviously took great care to
preserve his grandfather's work.

But the man who stole
the other seven paintings

had no regard for art whatsoever.

He sliced them out of
their frames like a butcher.

You recognize it?

This painting hasn't been seen since 1939.

Most people thought it had been destroyed.

It's not very pretty, is it?

It's not supposed to be pretty.

It's a representation of the Nazi regime.

Max Brenner painted it

to warn the German
people of what was coming.

He named it "Todesengel."

What's Todesengel?

"The angel of death."

Good afternoon.

Could do with a good polishing.

But it's, uh... It's
in excellent condition.

I'm told it's Britannia
silver from the 1700s.

Is that so? You know, luckily,

I have a friend who is,
uh, an expert in that area.

So, if you, uh, leave this with me,

I can have him take a look
at it when he gets back.

The sooner, the better...
I only plan to be in New York

for the next couple days on business.

Okay.

You...

were in Auschwitz.

Yeah.

How'd you know it was Auschwitz?

The triangle underneath the numbers

were only used in select camps,

and each camp had a different placement

for the tattoo on the body
depending on which year it was.

You were there in 1945, I suspect.

You seem to be pretty
knowledgeable on the subject.

I'm something of an expert.

Have your friend call me with an estimate.

Will do.

I look forward to hearing from him.

All right.

Terrible...

Terrible news about Karl.

I admired the work that he was
doing with his father's art.

His murder seems particularly
unjust in light of that.

Well, according to phone records,

he was on the phone with you
the night he was murdered.

Our understanding is, it was
rather a heated discussion.

I don't know if I would
use the word "heated."

Well, things get lost in translation.

What were you two fighting about?

In addition to our banking services,

we're also an international auction house.

Karl used our services from time to time

as a sort of silent partner.

He wanted an auction to be moved earlier.

I said we needed more time.

I'm not sure I follow...
As we understand it,

Karl was trying to return all
the paintings in his collection

to its rightful owners

rather than sell it off for profit.

It's a delicate situation to explain.

Why don't you try?

Whoa.

These pieces must be worth millions.

More like billions.

Everything you see in here is an orphan.

We're a Swiss company.

And since, as I'm sure you know,

Switzerland was neutral during the war...

The Nazis used your bank

to hide their looted art after the war.

Like Otto Heydrich.

We've spent years trying to
find the owners with no luck,

and we did our best to assist
Karl with his collection.

But sometimes it's impossible
to find a living next of kin.

But why would Karl keep priceless art

in his apartment if he had you?

Well, he only kept the pieces
that were ready to be returned.

Do you know which pieces
he kept in his apartment?

Karl was very wary about anyone
learning what paintings he had.

He feared someone would steal them

and sell them for their own profit.

It's disgusting what some
people will do for money.

Please tell me it isn't true.

Henry, it is not that simple.

I'm a learned man, father.

There are no complexities here.

Are you or are you not
engaged in the slave trade?!

If the answer was "no," you
would have said so already.

Wait.

You always had a gift for
seeing the truth in things.

Except my father.

Three years ago, business turned.

I borrowed money at great interest.

Everything... not just this company,

but all that we had, the
entire family estate...

was mortgaged.

I was forced... to look for other means.

But why?

You always espoused the evils of slavery.

And that remains my opinion, but...

Not your principle.

I thought you were a good man.

What... no bodies, so you're
doing an autopsy on a frame?

Not an autopsy. More of a diagnosis.

Before a canvas was painted,

old masters used different
extracts to treat it.

Vermeer washed his canvases with egg yolk.

Van Gogh used earth and sand pigments.

Now, see, if you can isolate
what extracts were used,

you can tell who painted it.

Uh, this canvas is Dutch linen.

Fiber content dates it to around 1630,

and judging by the pigment contents,

I'd say this frame contained a Rembrandt.

All that from a piece of fabric?

Oh! Sorry.

You mustn't touch it without gloves.

Rembrandt used extracts of lead

and poison oak oil to treat his canvases.

Touch it with your bare hands,
and you'll get a nasty rash.

When we were questioning
Julian, he was rubbing his hands.

I thought it was a nervous tick.

But he was scratching them raw
because of contact dermatitis.

It's possible that he
was exposed to poison oak.

Sam said he heard Karl
arguing with somebody

on the phone about a Rembrandt.

The last Rembrandt sold at auction

fetched almost $30 million.

And because there was no
record for the painting,

nobody even knew it was there.

Hanson, I need a warrant.

Suspect's name is Julian Glausser.

We've alerted our
security team at all exits.

Mr. Glausser will not
get out of the building.

- Have you seen him today?
- Only this morning.

He said he was headed to the vault

to prepare a shipment.

Oh, my God.

It's all...

Gone.

Along with our suspect.

All right, we got a BOLO out

on your art dealer, Julian Glausser.

Also notified the Fed's art crime unit

in case this guy tries to move
anything on the black market.

Smart thing would be to get them

out of the country, wait
for things to die down.

We'll keep an eye on the train
stations and the airports.

You know, I'm thinking
with a load this size,

he might try and move it
the same way the Nazis did.

I'm supposed to guess?

By boat.

Judge will never issue a
warrant based on a hunch.

I mean, there's no way to
get access to the docks, Jo.

Not unless we knew
someone who worked there.

Your brother Anthony still
the foreman at the pier?

No. Terrible, terrible idea.

Come on. If we let that shipment leave,

we're not gonna see
the art or Julian again.

Don't gi...

Okay, okay, okay.

I'll call him.

The things I do for art.

Huh.

Abe, where did you get this?

Oh, this guy brought it by
earlier looking to sell it.

Said it was 18th-century Britannia silver,

so I thought you might be
able to authenticate it.

Trays like this were very
rare, even in the 1700s.

Only the wealthiest
families could afford them.

You have to look for the family crest.

Abe, the man who brought this in...

What did he look like?

Oh, just a regular guy, I guess.

He had on one of those
old-time tweed hats,

you know, like the cabbies used to wear.

Oh, he left a card.

I told him I had a friend
who was, uh, fairly familiar

with that time period, so to speak.

It's a pretty rare tray, huh?

You okay?

Yes. I'll, uh, give him a
call now and take care of this.

Okay.

That silver tray was not
easy to find, you know.

But seeing as how we're old friends now...

We're not friends.

Well, nonetheless, I wanted
to give you it in person.

It gave me a chance to meet Abe.

I don't know what game you're playing,

but if you so much as touch Abraham,

you'll live to regret it.

As opposed to what?

What do you want?

I've come to apologize.

My actions at Christmas
were... a bit overzealous.

Stay away from me.

I read about the case you're
working on in the papers.

I happened to know Karl Haas' father

quite well during the war.

That doesn't surprise me.

I can imagine you felt quite
at home among the Nazis.

I was not a Nazi...

Which is why you can be assured

that I would never touch
a hair on Abraham's head.

You see, just as I
share something with you,

I do with him, as well.

You remember the camps, Henry.

It's the smell that I remember most.

The smell of death.

I'll never forget it.

You can imagine how an immortal

might eventually come to
stick out in such a place.

When the Nazis learned about my condition,

they introduced me to
a very special doctor...

Josef Mengele.

Hitler was obsessed with
the idea of immortality.

Mengele was obsessed with giving
the Fuehrer what he wanted.

The experiments they performed
on me did not yield any results,

but that didn't stop them from trying.

Take it from me, Henry.

There are evils in this world

that even you haven't encountered.

I'm sorry.

I appreciate the sentiment,
but all that matters to me now

is getting back one of the
things the Nazis took from me...

A Roman dagger from 44 B.C.

Seeing as how you're on the case

and Abe works in the antiques trade,

I would appreciate it if
you kept an eye out for it

as... a favor.

A favor?

For you?

There might be something
I can give you in return.

You have nothing I want.

I wouldn't be so sure, Henry.

So, let me get this straight.

You want me to stop shipment
on all la retuea containers

just so you can go on
a little scavenger hunt?

Anthony, we just want to take a look

at the ones you loaded
in the last 10 hours.

Oh, that is so typical of
you. Take, take, take...

My toys, my Halloween candy, my prom date.

Okay, okay. Enough with
the sibling rivalry.

We are trying to track
down a murder suspect.

Are you gonna let us in or not?

On two conditions.

First off, I got a few parking tickets

from you fine folks at the NYPD.

I'd like to see those dismissed.

And your other condition?

He's got to apologize.

- For what?!
- Take your pick!

I'm sorry I slept with your prom date.

Was that so hard?

Which one do you want me to open?

How about the one that's bleeding?

Dock Master to Crane Two.

Bring that hold down now.

That's Julian.

More like was.

We checked the security
footage from the docks.

We didn't see anything.

Looks like Julian's killer got away clean.

Well, maybe by the police,

but nothing gets past this office. Huh?

And by that, I mean Henry found something.

It seems that Julian fought back.

I found a piece of the killer's skin

embedded in his ring.

I'll go ahead and take that to the lab.

Looks like we can rule out
Julian as Karl's killer.

Perhaps.

I don't believe that Karl and Julian

were killed by the same man.

Why do you say that?

The two bodies reflect emotions
of two very different killers.

Julian was tortured,

beaten over the course of several hours.

Whoever killed Julian was sadistic

and had a seething hatred for him.

Now, Karl, by comparison,
was killed swiftly,

a single blow to the
head in a moment of rage.

Then the killer
respectfully posed his body.

Karl's killer had a certain
reverence towards him...

Almost love.

He smashed him over the head with a statue.

Seems more like anger.

Sometimes, the people we love

are the ones who anger us the most.

I was afraid you wouldn't come.

They told me you were
leaving for the colonies.

The ship leaves in three weeks.

Nora will come to join me in the spring.

There's something I need
to give you before you go.

Whatever it is, father, I cannot accept it.

That's your choice.

But know it was given to me by my father,

and to him by his father.

Your watch?

It belongs to the Morgan family.

There are two things we are charged with

in this life, Henry...

Living with our mistakes

and endeavoring to learn from them,

to be better men because of them.

No matter what you think of me,

I know I have raised a good man.

Father...

I...

When Karl was struck in the head,

the blow damaged his cerebral function,

severing his ocular reflexes.

His eyes would have been
open when we found him.

Why would the killer
bother closing his eyes?

Because even the most fraught relationships

between fathers and sons

aren't entirely without love.

Good news, Erik.

We found the artwork

that was stolen from
your father's apartment.

That's great.

We also found your
fingerprints on his eyelids,

which is a bit odd.

You were there that night.

It was an accident, I swear.

I know.

Tell me what happened.

I went to see him because I got a call

from Julian Glausser,

the man he worked with
at the auction house.

He told me where my father's
art collection came from.

You knew it was Nazi art
when you spoke with us.

I didn't believe him about any of it.

But then I followed my
father out to Brighton Beach

and watched him give away this painting,

a Monet worth God knows how much.

And here I am struggling to pay my rent.

Later that night, I went over
to my father's to talk about it.

And we fought.

And you killed him.

And then you killed Julian.

What?

Julian's dead?

Erik, now is not the time
to start playing games.

I didn't kill Julian.

I gave him the art to sell.

I needed him. Why would I kill him?

Hey.

I ran the DNA samples of Julian's killer

through the database.

Let me guess. It doesn't
match Erik Haas' DNA.

Not unless Erik once
had the bubonic plague.

Lucas, what are you talking about?

Okay. Well, you know human
blood has all these antibodies

from diseases that, uh, we've
come into contact with, right?

Mm-hmm.

Well, the killer's blood has antibodies

from diseases that
don't even exist anymore.

"Yersinia pestis, pertrussian
fever, cyprian cough..."

I mean, for someone to have all
those diseases in his system,

they've got to be, like...

2,000 years old.

So, Erik killed his old man
and then stole the paintings?

Yep. And then he called Julian
to ask him to help sell them.

The guy was only too
happy after all those years

of not making any money off Karl.

Huh. And, Doc, did you get any DNA results

off of Julian's body?

Uh, no.

The, uh, results were inconclusive.

But I'm sure you have a theory.

Uh, actually, no.

I'm stumped.

I'm sorry. What?

No, no, he's messing with you, Jo.

Come on, Doc. What's the theory?

Well, just that Julian clearly got involved

with some nefarious people.

That's not a theory.

There are some things in this world

for which there are no answers.

But you weren't unsuccessful.

You caught Karl Haas' killer.

Uh, but Julian's killer is still out there.

Yes, and I'm sure we'll find a way

to bring him to justice soon.

Well, who says it's a "him"?

Just a theory.

I'm glad you decided to sell it.

You should have seen the
look on my friend's face

when I showed it to him.

I mean, he could hardly believe it.

I can imagine.

So, have you enjoyed your
stay here in New York?

Unfortunately, I didn't
find what I was looking for,

but I did find something else interesting.

- There you go.
- Thank you.

Uh, just a moment.

Uh, I'll be right back with your receipt.

Hello?

Abraham?

Oh, sorry. I didn't hear you come in.

What's that you're looking at?

I'm reading about Herman and Reba Weinraub.

Who are Herman and Reba Weinraub?

My parents.

I know, I know.

I could hardly believe it myself.

But it's all in here.

All the names, tattoo numbers...

All lost records of Auschwitz.

Abraham, where did you get this?

That man, the one who
brought in the silver tray...

He just came in and left it.

There might be something
I can give you in return.

You have nothing I want.

I wouldn't be so sure, Henry.

Like some kind of angel or something.

I'm afraid he wasn't an angel, Abe.

That man you met...

was Adam.

Well, Henry, why didn't
you tell me he was back?

I needed to find out why he had returned,

what he wanted.

It seems he wants to make amends of sorts.

He mentioned you,

that he had no intention of harming you

because of what you'd been through...

What you'd both been through.

That's why he said he was an expert.

It's hard to believe that Adam
is capable of a kind gesture,

but I believe that ledger
is his way of apologizing.

But that doesn't change what he did to me.

And God knows what he's done to others.

No. No, it doesn't.

But it does mean something.

What?

That he's been a victim, too.

Atonement can take many forms...

A heartfelt apology,

a grand gesture,

a silent prayer,

or something more complex,

more gray,

more difficult to decipher.

I-I would like to see if
there's any, uh, information,

uh, o-or possessions
relating to my parents.

Your name?

Weinraub.

Abraham Weinraub.

And while it's true

that no amount of atonement
can ever change the past,

it does have the power to heal us,

to restore relationships and connections

we thought were lost forever.

Thank you.

I never thought I'd be this nervous.

Oh, my.

Well, I guess I know now
where I get my good looks.

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