Original subtitles

We interrupt this program for breaking news.

According to the Federal Criminal Office,

the Hitler diaries published by Stern Magazine are forgeries.

The paper contained optical brighteners

which were not used in paper production until after 1955.

The other materials also stem from post-war production,

that is, from the time after Adolf Hitler’s death.

Please turn it up.

The Federal Police call it a clumsy forgery.

A clumsy forgery?

They’re out of their minds! A clumsy forgery?

Try forging that many diaries in such a short time!

Clumsy forgery!

It can be assumed that the forged Hitler diaries

are the biggest scandal in the entire history of Germany’s media.

We now continue the program.

The children of famous star chef Max König were kidnapped.

The kidnappers demand more than three and a half million marks

for the release of six-year-old Jens and eight-year-old Gabriele.

Gabriele, Jens...

Dad and I...

We miss you.

- Bloom. - Felix? It’s Gerd.

Bloom?

We can only hope that this tragedy will soon...

Gerd?

Hello?

Damn it.

Don’t hang up. I’ll back up a bit.

- Gerd, I can’t hear you. - Felix?

Say something.

Gerd? Gerd, I can’t hear you.

Wait... I think it’s better over here.

Gerd, where the hell are you anyway?

Tell Michaelis to reserve eight pages

- in the next issue. - What? Why?

For an interview with the kidnapped König kids.

What? Were they released?

Not yet, but...

I’m on my way to the money handover.

- You? Why you? - I’m a friend of their father.

No, I mean, why don’t the police do that?

The kidnappers don’t want the police.

Felix? Are you still there?

Argh! This damned connection!

Calm down, I just wasn’t speaking.

I see.

Gerd, can’t you simply just report on something?

- You know, just... - Felix, I’ve got to go.

They’re waiting.

Gerd?

Is that Heidemann?

- Yes, that’s him. - What is he doing here?

Morning, colleagues.

Morning, Max.

Thank you, Gerd. How nice of you to do this.

The police will instruct you in a minute.

How is Franziska? Will she manage?

Franziska..

Go boil some water. We’re having spaghetti today.

Your kids like spaghetti, don’t they?

The children of the world-famous star chef

have now been at the mercy of the kidnappers for over 48 hours.

Konny?

Konny?

Konrad Kujau!

Strunz called.

That must’ve been two minutes.

He wanted to speak to a Dr Fischer and I almost messed up.

He was like, “Is Dr Fischer at home?”

And I went, “There’s no... uhm...

“He’s in the bathtub.”

- For the painting? - Yes.

Don’t want to do it anymore?

I would love to just do nothing for one day.

You already did nothing all day yesterday.

I’d love to do nothing all day tomorrow too.

Come on now. Come on.

Forget about the painting, then, but go clear up the garage.

Come on.

Come on.

- Fine! - Fine.

Get undressed.

You mean get dressed.

No.

I get dressed.

- You get undressed. - Huh?

It’ll be a nude.

So who am I?

Geli Raubal.

Hitler’s niece.

Hand-painted by the Führer himself.

- Nude. - What?

Hitler painted his niece in the nude?

Yup.

I don’t even know what he did paint.

Why don’t you paint something that you know he painted?

Because this is more fun.

A-ha.

Hey!

- Where are you headed? - Hamburg.

I’m going to Hamburg too.

Thomas.

Elisabeth.

Where did you come from?

A demonstration.

A-ha.

What did you protest?

For peace.

- Peace is always good. - And you?

I went to a party.

Couldn’t find one you like in Hamburg this weekend?

Well, well.

Geli Raubal.

Yes.

His niece, naked in Italy.

I’m sorry, Mr. Fischer.

Dr Fischer.

I don’t believe this is authentic.

I assure you, Mr. Strunz, the Führer painted his niece in the nude.

That may be, but..

Geli died in 1931,

and to my knowledge, Hitler never visited Italy before 1938.

He didn’t?

Oh, but he did! I’m sure he did!

He was down there all the time, especially with the Duce...

That’s exactly what I’m questioning, dear doctor.

I... with all due respect, you are a brake disc manufacturer,

while I am an art dealer.

I think you can trust me on this.

Sure, trust is nice, but certainty is better.

I’m sure you don’t mind if I invite my friend Heinrich Leutke?

He’s a renowned Hitler expert.

Let me give him a call.

He can be here in half an hour.

Shit.

A screen search.

So? Are you a terrorist?

No.

But I’m drunk.

Are you kidding?

Not more than 0.03% though, right?

It’s not 0.03% anymore.

It’s 0.02% now, and I’m definitely over that.

Well then..

Swap?

Thank you.

Fasten your seat belt.

Thank you. It would’ve sucked if they’d pulled me over.

Same here.

I don’t have a driver’s license.

But you drive fine.

I already steered in my father’s lap when I was three.

Cool father.

Yes, I have a cool father.

What do you do?

I’m a journalist for Stern.

I study Sports.

Did anyone ask?

Thank you for coming so soon.

Sure.

Good day.

What do you think?

It’s impossible that the Führer painted this.

Hm.

Before his official visit in 1938, he’d never visited Italy.

Except in 1934, for a first, personal meeting with Mussolini.

But his niece already died in 1931.

That’s what I told him.

Well..

- A forgery, Doctor... - Fischer.

Someone took you for a ride.

I’m so embarrassed.

What a goddamn mess!

I’m really very sorry, I...

I’m sorry, Mr. Strunz.

I’m really very sorry.

I’ll take the frame with me.

It might be worth a few marks.

But the painting you can throw away.

I don’t want to see it again.

Such trash. What a blasted mess.

What is this?

What?

What?

Oh, that’s interesting.

Let me have a quick look.

Old handwriting.

I can’t read it.

Can you... I’m sure you can...

“Blissful times with Geli in Tuscany.

“Geli eats peaches and I paint all day.

“Adolf Hitler, San Gimignano, 1930.”

- Well now, that’s just... - Heinrich...

- Is that really his? - Without a doubt.

I know the Führer’s handwriting better than my own.

Unbelievable.

That’s so...

so private, so intimate!

Let’s say 2,000 marks.

There. Focus the camera. Focus the camera, now!

- Film the car. - Okay.

- The children are getting out. - Look at the camera!

- Heinemann! - Make some room.

- Let the children get out. - Heinemann! Go into the house.

- You did it. - An exclusive interview?

Make way!

Look over to me!

Mrs. König, Mrs. König! Look over here.

Where do you know Mrs...

I’m so happy you’re all right.

Mum, we had to wait at a bridge,

and then a fast car came and that man saved us.

Hey, Gerd, you’re the best.

Really, the best.

I’ll never forget this.

Thank you, Gerd.

Thank you.

Is this where you live?

Hey, don’t worry.

I won’t just show up here.

Not without calling first.

So now you want my phone number?

Right, 0-4-0...

Now I need a clue.

- Hey! - Hi.

So, how was it?

It was great.

- Hello? - Hi, it’s Thomas.

I just wanted to try the number.

And now?

Go to the Alter Elbtunnel outlook point at 9pm tomorrow.

- And bring a trash bag. - A trash bag?

How romantic.

Are you planning to chop me up?

I mean it.

You’ll come, won’t you?

You’re mad.

Hey, Eli?

Do you know the journalist who freed those children?

The König children are free.

Heidemann? Sure, he works for Stern too.

Controversial guy.

Great journalist, but reportedly has a Nazi fetish.

- A Nazi fetish? - Yes.

I don’t know. Maybe it’s nonsense.

No information about the amount...

He really did a great job in freeing those kids.

The family friend is journalist Gerd Heidemann.

You know what?

I’ll open a very special bottle today.

Gerd?

Ever drank champagne from a magnum bottle?

That’s it.

Max, I need the exclusive rights to the interview with your children.

Good morning.

Good morning, Max.

When would you have time for the interview?

I can do it any time.

I’m sorry, Gerd, but...

- It won’t work. - What do you mean?

Your people just offered too little for the interview.

- I saved your children. - We’re struggling to survive.

3.4 million marks in ransom money.

It would’ve bankrupted us for life.

Even with the Bunte’s offer, we can only pay off part of the bank debt.

- Stern office, Elisabeth Stöckel-- - What the hell?

You let Bunte Magazine outbid you?

The story was in the bag.

- Excuse me, who is this? - Heidemann.

Tell those stingy pen-pushers...

“...that you’re letting the story of the year slip through your fingers.

You ungrateful bastards.”

His words, not mine.

Heidemann will be in a bad mood at his anniversary party tonight.

Yes, because it sucks.

Gerd saves the children

and Bunte gets the exclusive interview.

Yes, because Bunte paid more than the story is worth.

Now let’s continue the meeting.

Right. We were handed a list of names of former SS-members.

In the next days, we’ll check for names of celebrities.

Not just celebrities, check managerial positions.

You wouldn’t believe how many ex-Nazis are now managers.

We could use some help. It’ll be research-intensive.

Hear, hear! Miss Stöckel from “stitch and bitch.”

Kalg!

“Education and society.”

I’ll handle the research, Felix.

Rosier, what’s your input?

I have a series of photos on the new Walkman.

Woman, beach, topless,

Walkman in her hand..

Yes, fine.

As you may have read, Fritz Honka was released from psychiatry.

Examine the legal aspects before the next class.

Thank you.

He murdered four women. Why are they letting him go?

If he no longer presents a danger, they have to.

- Is that your opinion too? - Absolutely!

Our laws apply equally to everyone.

For students as well as murderers of women.

Yes, but...

You’ll appreciate it after you’ve murdered women yourself.

Have a good day.

Are they students or groupies?

- Oh, hello, darling. - Hello, Dad.

How are you?

No! And you really want to resign?

No.

I’m just tired of “stitch and bitch.”

Elisabeth, they’re a bunch of chauvinists.

It’s a men’s domain. Always has been.

You won’t change that from one day to the next.

- Meaning? - Change it the day after tomorrow.

You can do it, dear. Consider it a starting point.

So we’ll go from “stitch and bitch” to “crochet and foreplay”?

Or “giggle and jiggle.”

- “Soak and poke.” - “Scrub and rub.”

A quarter century of Gerd Heidemann at Stern, ladies and gentlemen!

Bravo!

Dear Gerd, I’m glad you’re with us.

And not with Spiegel!

And in all those years, nothing but solid stories.

No lawsuits, no counter statements.

That’s why we look forward to another 25 years

with Germany’s most successful journalist,

Gerd Heidemann!

Enjoy the party.

- Ah! Elisabeth! - Hello.

Will you have one?

Yes.

Theo was being pretty sleazy this morning, huh?

What is it? Out with it.

A friend of mine works at ZDF.

And there’s a rumor going around.

The actor Horst Tappert, who plays Inspector Derrick...

I know.

He was with the Waffen-SS.

Really?

Wow!

Maybe you really are in the wrong department.

Could I look for references to Tapped in the SS records?

Fine.

In that case, I welcome you to my department.

Between you and me...

I think it’s time for a real scoop.

Well, I handed you the König case on a silver platter.

Sure, a very expensive silver platter.

It would have cost me more than two million marks.

I’m working on something else.

Conversations on a boat.

I bought the old Göring yacht, where I conduct interviews.

Mohnke, for example, who was in the Führerbunker until the very end.

You’re interviewing old Nazis on an old Nazi boat?

That’s distasteful.

They’re not all old Nazis.

Edda Göring, daughter of Hermann Göring,

is a regular guest on the Carin II.

Spare me your Nazi drivel, Heidemann.

I won’t publish any of it.

Give me something fresh, something modern.

A real scoop.

And make it snappy.

Or else it’ll end at 25 years at Stern.

The preferred footwear for this work are wooden shoes.

They reduce the risk of injury.

- Hey. - Hm?

I think I’ll write a diary.

Really? I kept one as a little girl.

No, I’m not writing a diary!

You just said you’d keep one.

But not my own diary.

Listen.

That Strunz and that Leutke,

they were both so taken by Hitler’s handwriting.

“Unbelievable,” they said,

“So intimate! So private!”

What’s the most intimate thing you can write?

Hi.

Hey.

Okay, let’s go.

This way.

What are we doing here?

That’s a surprise.

- Do you like boat tours? - Sure.

Come on.

Up here?

Thanks.

- Cheers! - Cheers!

This is really nice.

And I thought I’d changed your mind.

Yes, Edda, you did.

Why not just work for another paper, then?

Michaelis isn’t the only problem.

I get the feeling the others view me with suspicion as well.

Well, Gerd...

you do sleep with Göring’s daughter on Göring’s yacht.

Edda, please.

I bought your father’s yacht because it was a sound investment.

And I meet you here because I love you.

Not because I’m a Nazi.

Shit.

Of course you’re not a Nazi, Gerd, and it’s wonderful that you love me,

but this ship was never a good investment.

It’s a money pit.

Yes.

You could say that again.

Then sell this damned yacht.

I know a memorabilia collector.

A certain Mr. Strunz.

A brake disc manufacturer from the Allgäu region.

He likes things like this.

Michaelis is right.

I’m a journalist, and a journalist is only as good as his last story.

I need a real scoop.

What about the yacht?

Give me the number of that brake disc manufacturer.

I’m selling this damned yacht.

What are you doing?

Time to join the fish.

The Elbe beach is over there.

Hey! What are you doing there?

One, two, three!

Cold! So cold!

- What about you? - Don’t know.

Konny! What a mess you’ve made.

Please be careful not to break the cord.

What is this?

That?

That’s a Hitler diary.

A forged one?

No.

Hitler was walking his dog

and when Blondie shat in our garden he left these on my table.

Do you think you can sell this?

You couldn’t make more money with less work.

“E. spent...”

- “E.”? - Eva Braun.

It’s good, right?

“E. spent Christmas Eve with her parents.

“She wants a dog.

“The Hoffmanns must’ve talked that into her.

“I don’t like small dogs

“and E. can’t handle big ones.

“She wants a chow chow at all costs.

“She must have seen them at the Hoffmanns’, as they have two.

“I had to tell her that that breed is twisted and devious.”

Hitler considered chow chows devious?

Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, what do I know?

You just made it up?

Of course I just made it up.

And you think it will work?

That’s what I’m about to find out.

So you think it’s a forgery?

No, that’s not what I said, Mr. Strunz.

I just want to point out that it might, in theory, be a forgery.

This? A forgery?

What makes you think that?

Well, the paper, the handwriting, the content...

You realize that I spent two years working

in close proximity to the Führer, Mr. Fischer?

And I never saw him keep a diary.

But..

I know how he felt and thought about things,

what he wanted, what he did and did not know.

There’s one thing I can say with absolute certainty.

If this book was not penned by the hand of the Führer...

Well, then God himself must have written it.

As you like.

What would you like for it?

Well, I... I was thinking of...

5,000 Deutschmark.

Mr. Strunz?

Telephone. A Mr. Heidemann.

Okay.

Good morning.

Elisabeth, can you come here?

Good morning.

Ever heard of ladies first?

You women need to make up your mind.

It’s either emancipation or ladies first.

Thanks for the pastries.

To celebrate your beginning.

I’ll give you one for your farewell, tomorrow.

Right...

I checked in on the grapevine,

and that rumor really does exist.

The actor Horst Tappert was reportedly with the Waffen-SS.

- Tappert was with the SS? - Mm-hm.

All right. I’ll investigate.

No!

You two...

you’re doing it together.

Okay?

And I expect good cooperation. Am I clear?

- Theo? - Hm?

- Did you hear me? - Sure. Of course.

Great.

Get started then.

So, how will we do this?

We’re not doing anything.

I’ll do the research and you’ll try to keep up.

- Cooperation was the word... - I don’t work with beginners.

Search the list for people from the same region as Tappert.

Contact them.

If one of them is willing to talk, you’ll put his info on my desk.

Got that?

But Bloom just said...

Listen. Go and complain.

You’ll see it gets you nowhere.

I even obtained Göring’s toilet seat and had it installed.

A special design to accommodate the Reichmarschall’s mighty behind.

What a magnificent ship.

And what a story.

That magnificent ship with its story...

could be yours, Mr. Strunz.

- Well... - For a measly 250,000 marks.

I’m afraid we won’t come to an agreement, Mr. Heidemann.

That’s what you had me drive down from Hamburg for?

Thanks so much.

I really am sorry, Mr. Heidemann,

but I honestly didn’t know that the yacht was this big.

But don’t leave just yet.

I’d like to show you something.

Something really nice.

So that your trip...

might still have been of some use.

What is this?

Take a look inside.

Yes, I see.

Do you remember if you were in the same SS division as Horst Tappert?

Are you still there?

Mr. Steiner?

Hello?

Stern editorial office, Elisabeth Stöckel.

Hi, Elisabeth, it’s Thomas.

How did you find my number?

Well, that was really difficult.

Open the telephone book, search for Stern,

have the call put through...

That sounds like quite the effort.

I feel flattered.

Are we meeting tonight?

Perhaps.

In Tiefenrausch at about 11 o’clock?

Do you know where that is?

Elisabeth?

Hello?

Eli!

Were you in the Waffen-SS?

What?

Are you mad?

Were you?

You have to answer me.

I don’t have to put up with this. Not even from you.

Hello?

Hm?

Come on in.

What do you mean, Hitler’s diary?

Like I said,

Hitler’s diary.

Wait... the diaries of Adolf Hitler?

Felix, are you having a heart attack?

A diary of Adolf Hitler.

But that’s sensational!

“If Stalin keeps this up, we’ll have to put a stop to him.”

Did he... he wrote that?

And that he doesn’t want to give Eva a chow chow.

But that’s...

that’s a scoop!

Gerd! Huh!

0-7-1...

Yes. Hello?

Hello? Mr. Fischer?

Who is this?

Gerd Heidemann of Stern Magazine.

Mr. Strunz, whom you also know, showed me a book.

A very special book.

I’m sure you know which one I mean.

No.

You dialed the wrong number.

I’ll crack him still.