Mr. McLaughlin?
Tom Franklin's looking for you.
He says it's an emergency.
Where?
Inside that building is the potential embryo
of a political shitstorm.
Two of ours are dead.
GIs. Tied to chairs, clubbed to death.
Shit.
This is not your ordinary Berlin alleyway stabbing,
but a direct attack on our nation.
And if I know about it, I'm pretty sure the Russians do too,
and if so, they are watching.
Why the fuck would they care?
Western decline is their sole prerogative,
so if we are successful
in creating stability in our sector, then they are one step behind.
I've already briefed General Howley on the delicacy of the situation.
And if we don't find the killer?
Oh, you'll find him. Or someone.
It's not like they're innocent, these people.
If you don't agree with me,
you can just ask that Jewish kid over there
for a second opinion.
Oh, I almost forgot.
Swing by my place tomorrow a.m., I have a favor to ask.
Shit.
Do we know who they are?
They belong to the 4th Battalion.
We're getting their names.
Both killed by repeated blows to the head
with a metal pipe.
Did you find it?
Over there.
This looks more like an execution of some kind.
Such fury.
Maybe this was a robbery that went wrong.
Yeah, this ain't no robbery.
Fresh, too.
Fuck.
You checked the whole building?
Not yet.
Somebody lives here.
It's a woman's clothes.
Hello?
-Police! Stop! -Take the outside!
Shit.
Take her!
Who are you?
We don't care who you are or what you did.
We just want to know what you saw.
We are police.
We have questions about who killed those men.
Why do they call you Green Eyes?
My mother used to call me that.
She said she can see the Grunewald forest in them.
We used to go there before she died.
Did she die in the war?
Yes.
Are you afraid of the men who killed those soldiers?
I'm not afraid of anyone!
Can you switch to English?
20 untouched cigarettes in an unopened package.
This will get you 300 in Tiergarten. Please.
Still unbroken.
They weren't men.
Say it in English, please.
-They were not men. -Who weren't men?
-The killers. -So what were they, fairies?
No, women.
Have you seen any of these women before?
Would you recognize them if you saw them again?
It was dark.
And how many would you say there were? Three? Four?
Did you hear anything they said?
What did they wear? Any clothing you would remember?
-It was dark. -Yeah, yeah, you said it was dark.
You said that. That's all you're gonna give me?
"It was dark?"
Get out of here. Stop wasting my time.
You're lying. You just want these Ami-Zigaretten,
but you're not giving me anything in return.
No. I mean, yes, but I'm not...
-So tell us what you fucking saw! -I am!
American whore.
Don't call me that.
My name is Max.
We want to help you,
but first, you've got to help us.
Do you know who those women are?
Can I go if I tell you?
Yes.
I think they belong to the Engelmacher.
Who is that?
Once the Engelmacher decides to help you,
you belong to him.
But this is only what I hear.
-Help you with what? -I don't know.
But he helps when no one else can,
and if you don't help him back,
he sells your flesh to the pig farmers in Brandenburg.
Can I go now?
Yeah.
One of our deputies outside, Gad, will walk you home.
-We'll talk more tomorrow. -Why?
So you can get more of these Ami-Zigaretten.
Ute, bring her up to Gad.
I'm sorry I called you a whore,
but you didn't have to hit me.
You gave her an escort.
No woman should walk through Kreuzberg alone
at this time of night.
Not with him out there.
Engelmacher. He's the Boogeyman of Berlin.
He's got an army of people working for him,
but nobody will talk, at least not on the record.
Prostitution, robbery, murder...
"Engelmacher..."
"Angel maker?"
That's a strange name for a crime boss.
In German, that's what you would call someone
who helps women with abortions.
How many rapes do you think are committed in Berlin?
-Roughly? -Since the occupation,
something like a hundred thousand.
-A hundred thousand? -Reported.
Shit.
-And I supposed hospitals are packed. -Penicillin is way too expensive,
so he helps raped and desperate women,
if they refuse to return his favors...
-He feeds them to the pigs. -Yeah.
We connect the GIs to this Engelmacher guy,
then we'll know why they turned them into pulp.
Tell me something fucking positive about this place.
Because of the typhoid fever last year,
there are no rats anymore,
since there wasn't anything for them to eat.
Well,
that's something.
Hey.
Why are you sitting there?
Come over here, Dumbhead.
I'll give you something good.
Stay, stay.
We'll share, 50/50.
Fresh milk
from the hills of Bavaria.
And you're playing hard to get? Is it me?
Don't you like Karin anymore?
Don't you recognize her?
May I come in?
How do you feel?
It'll get better. Really.
Look. I got something for you.
I didn't ask for anything.
I think you'll like it.
And if I don't?
Then I'll kill you.
Those are from me.
And these are from Dr. Gladow.
They're beautiful.
They're from Paris. Brand new. Never used.
Why are you giving me this?
Why do you think?
I'm not a whore.
There are many things we weren't before the war.
-I am not a whore. -Of course not.
You're only a whore if you have a choice.
After what those soldiers did to me, I'm all...
There are many ways to satisfy a man.
So... meet me at ten o'clock
at the old Austrian café on Dahlmannstrasse.
What if I don't come?
Do you know why the pigs in Brandenburg are so fat?
There are other reasons Dr. Gladow is called The Angel Maker.
See you later.
CITY OF NEW YORK BELLEVUE HOSPITAL PSYCHIATRIC DIVISION
MEDICAL HISTORY MORITZ MCLAUGHLIN
REPORT OF MEDICAL ASSESSMENT
PSYCHIATRIC EVALUATION
We need to keep our shit together, little brother.
Okay?
FITS OF ANGER
PSYCHOTIC DELUSIONAL
CRUELTY
UNCONTROLLABLE OUTBURSTS
POTENTIAL FOR VIOLENCE
RUSSIAN MILITARY ADMINISTRATION
I assure you, Comrade,
we have tight control over our sector...
unlike the Americans.
I am ensuring that all officials
are under our control.
Why so late?
You have no life?
I have some information that might be of value to you,
for the right price, of course.
What do you have for sale?
I found out more details about the man in this photo.
The Americans just brought him in.
His name is Max McLaughlin.
I have met him. Why would he concern Moscow?
According to my sources at the US Embassy,
he reports directly to Tom Franklin.
So Mr. McLaughlin
is more than a police officer.
Do you know what precinct he was assigned to?
-Yes. -We need a bird in that station.
Go catch.
So, how long have you been a cop?
Six months.
What's your name?
Gad.
What's yours?
I'm working on it.
So... Here we are.
Thank you.
Just doing my job.
You have kind eyes, Gad.
And you have lovely green eyes.
Gad Epstein, you work with Elsie Garten?
So,
he's a British officer,
old and married, and he has a room in that building, second floor.
-And if he's not home? -Of course he's home.
Go.
Will you leave me alone after this? -Oh, Karin.
You'll be back before those kids finish their strudel,
I promise. Really.
Now go.
-Thank you. -You're welcome.
Thank you.
I don't get it. Why hand me this major case
only to have me fucking babysit?
It's only for a couple of hours.
I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't have
this unexpected UN NRA meeting,
and there's people it might be good for you to meet.
Keep your eyes and ears open.
Hello, there, boys.
Who's looking positively pulchritudinous
-this beautiful Saturday morning? -Poppycock, my dear.
Paragon will do just fine today, but thank you ever so kindly.
Mr. Max! How are we today?
Good. Thank you.
-Car, sir. -Okay. Car's ready.
I can't make it today. Max's gonna keep you company.
American Housewives' Club. I'm not a housewife.
And I'm not American.
We'll be rebels.
We have the names of the murdered American soldiers.
Private Jim Gallagher
and Private Frank Deluca.
This afternoon you are meeting
-their commanding officer. -Okay.
Where do GIs go for drinks?
I don't know, Indigo?
Or maybe Klaus-Maus if that's still around?
We need to talk to their colleagues, find out who these guys were.
Do you know where McLaughlin is?
He left a message.
The American Housewives' Club.
I heard the SS used this place right up until the very end.
The SS pushed out by the American Housewives.
Isn't that just marvelous?
So the general idea here is
is to get completely sloshed just in time for lunch, and I hear...
I'm leaving in an hour.
Nonsense. Sorry we're late.
This is my devilishly handsome date for the day
since Tom is busy with some super important secret thingies
that will prevent the Russians from snuffing us in our sleep.
Max, say hello to Gina, and her husband, George,
who flies airplanes really, really fast
and drops bombs and stuff.
I've switched from bombs to parcels. Diplomatic carriers.
Now, positions?
I guess me and Gina are east-west.
Jolly good. That makes us north-south, Max.
-Gin for everyone? -Uh, sherry.
-Water for me, please. -Don't you dare.
Three double gins and a sherry, thank you.
So, Max, you with the State then?
Initially, NYPD,
but I was brought here to help organize
the German police force.
-So, you didn't do any fighting? -No, sir.
My brother did, though.
Yeah? What regiment?
45th Infantry Division.
-What's that mean, "oh"? -I heard those boys had a rough time.
The first Americans to discover a death camp.
-Which one. -Dachau.
It was bad.
You see that Major General over there?
His command? First guy in.
Our office at Tempelhof is right across from each other.
-Already done? -Yeah.
How did it go?
-I have to go. -Hello, Karin.
Are you leaving?
Stay.
Thank you.
-Nice. I like it. -Thank you.
I like it a lot.
I'm afraid you're in trouble.
Why? I went in there. Did what you told me...
It's not about that.
It's about what you did to those American soldiers.
Someone saw you.
-Who? -A girl.
A street kid.
Marianne will help you.
Help how? With what?
Drink your coffee.
It's not fake... it's the real thing.
It would have been easier
if you had just told me what I wanted to know.
Well done.
Most men can only take one.
The police station where you work, who's in charge?
Elsie Garten.
What information can you give me on Elsie Garten?
She's blonde.
I don't care about her hair color.
Does she have children,
brothers, sisters, a husband...?
Her husband...
is still reported missing.
Soldier?
So can you tell me about Elsie Garten's husband?
I want every single piece of information
you can think of.
Gad?
Gad!
Where is he?
Guess he's around somewhere, but...
Didn't he get back last night?
Did anyone see Gad this morning?
No.
Head over to the fire station
and ask Helga nicely if you could use their telephone.
Then call that club and tell McLaughlin to get over here.
I'll go fetch Green Eyes myself.
You're coming with me. Trude, come on.
Maybe Gad's still with that girl?
You want me to kill her?
She can't live.
Do this and I'll make sure
you never have to meet any English officers again.
Her or you.
And I will not hesitate.
Do you understand what I'm saying? I will not hesitate. You hear?
I'm so sorry...
Who are you?
I'm you.
Run to the back. Quick, hurry. See if anyone is there.
Hurry!
Phone call
for Mr. McLaughlin.
For me?
Thank you.
Excuse me.
I don't care if the Russians just bloody stormed Sussex!
-Stop yelling, you're drunk. -You can't walk out of a game.
-It's rude! -I'm not here to play cards.
I got work to do.
Where is she?
The blood was still running when I got here.
There was nothing I could do.
All my scarecrows are out knocking on doors, taking notes.
This is fury.
It's like with the GIs.
Where have you been?
-I went for a walk. -What?
Where to? Hamburg?
-I've been looking all over for you. -Yeah, well here I am.
What happened?
When did you leave here?
Late.
Did you see anything? Did you see anyone?
Gad...
...you realize you might be the last person
to have seen her alive, right?
What is it?
Dumbhead.
Go.
Go, leave town.
Go find yourself another human.
Don't trust the dogs.
Karin doesn't live here anymore.
I like your balcony.
Lots of pots.
Lots of dirt.
Something's growing inside the dirt.
This is cabbage.
And these are herbs. That's right.
Behind you, tomatoes. Salad.
-You mean lettuce. -Yes. Lettuce.
They just need time.
Do you think she was killed because she spoke to us?
I don't know.
Maybe one of your cops talked.
That's a possibility, yeah.
Green Eyes.
And she was just 16 years old.
Kids can't protect themselves...
...and if they're hurt or they're killed...
...it's our duty to do everything we fucking can.
I want to, but...
we can't do it.
-We don't have the resources. -So I'll get some.
You saw my scarecrows today.
-We're too inexperienced. -So he won't see us coming.
Listen, you can either play cops for food coupons,
or you can actually be one
and make a difference.
This guy, Elsie,
I wonder just how many of these women he controls,
that he owns.
I say we find this Engelmacher guy
and we fucking take him down.
I almost forgot.
Got this today.
I fucking hate canned fruit.
-Are they peaches? -That they are.
-All right. Where am I going here? -Through here,
-and then first one left. -Okay. Thank you.
-Bye. -Good night.
Thank you.
AMERICAN EMBASSY
Major General Wright.
My name's Max McLaughlin.
I've been trying to reach you for two days.
I've left several messages, because I'm looking for information
regarding my brother, Moritz McLaughlin
who you fought with in...
I know I fought with Sergeant McLaughlin,
but I do not know to his current whereabouts.
I haven't received any answers to any of my questions.
Not one.
Sergeant McLaughlin is AWOL.
Before he went missing, how was he,
on a personal level?
I heard your battalion were the first ones into Dachau,
the death camp?
Yeah, I know what Dachau is, goddamnit.
-Let's move. -What happened?
What happened to my brother at Dachau?
I'm gonna find out whatever it is you're hiding!
Stop.
I ain't hiding shit.
I ain't the shit-hiding kind.
Look, if your brother ever does turn up,
ain't nobody got the right to judge him.
Hear me?
Officially, we're trying to find him.
But if he never turns up,
that'd be better for everyone.
And that is off the goddamn record.
Stop looking for your brother.
Bertha Spiel?
I'm from the American State Department.
Pleased to meet you.
I have a question for you.
Were you ever a member of the NSDAP?
I'm sorry, the Nazi party.
I will answer, but...
this is not correct. This is, uh, this is bad.
I see.
You think this is bad?
Why don't we, as we Americans like to say,
cut to the fucking chase?
Bertha Spiel...
...were you ever a guard at Ravensbrück?
Let me re-phrase it.
Were you ever an aufseherin
at Ravensbrück death camp for women?
If you think that this is bad,
no, Bertha Spiel, this is not bad.
In fact, you haven't even tasted the sweet beginnings of bad.
Subtitles: Evelyn Antelo www.plint.com