Accused…
I take it, from your conspicuous indifference,
that you have nothing further to contribute to the proceedings.
Nothing, however, is more than a little.
- Mr. Chairman… - He can talk!
I am a rightfully convicted criminal.
- I don't deny anything. - He doesn't deny anything!
Well, why should he?
He was rightfully sentenced
by the District Court of Berlin on 26th October 1930.
And since then he's been free on his own recognisance.
He's probably been laughing into his hands.
After committing the most abominable offences against children
a so-called court gave him a suspended sentence
and released him back into the population.
And why is he crying now?
- I… - Why is he crying?
I'll never do it again.
I promise.
- I swore it! - And the court believed you!
And that's why the amiable judge in Berlin also said
that he didn't have to be on too tight a leash.
For a… trivial offence like child abuse!
He had no idea of the existence of the White Hand,
the true court that meets in these halls
to close up all the loopholes
that insects like this one have been crawling through for years!
In the name of the White Hand,
here and today we issue a revised judgment against Theodor Kroll:
Due to repeated serious abuse of minors,
we sentence you…
…to death.
The verdict will be enforced immediately!
In the name of the German people,
right follows wrong.
Right follows wrong!
- After barbarism comes order. - After barbarism comes order!
- After weakness comes strength. - After weakness comes strength!
Executioner, do your duty.
Uncle.
Welcome to your homeland!
Look at him! He's become a real American.
- Avreml Goldstein. - No, not Avremi, not Goldstein.
These days I'm called Gold. Abe Gold.
- Gold? Without "Stein?" - Without "Stein?"
Fine, come on,
we'll get a taxi outside.
- How was America? - Nothing without you.
Are you a capitalist now?
In Moscow we're building even bigger skyscrapers.
Number 12 please.
Do you have what I asked you for?
Were you with him?
- Jealous? - Answer me!
A couple of times.
How many?
The party comes first, then your controller, and lastly yourself.
Your words, comrade.
I missed you.
Look at this.
The woman.
Yes.
- That's it. - The one and only.
Nyssen. You know these people?
Depends what "know" means. They buy their jewellery from me.
- Above all, we have to be discreet… - No, no, no, no.
There is no "we."
The Rothschild was my father's.
And it's mine.
But your father, may he rest in peace,
wanted that it was returned to our community!
No. Perhaps he said that, but he didn't mean it. Believe me.
- But your father… - My father sleeps with the fishes.
But his grave is in Berlin.
An empty one.
- This is your business, isn't it? - Hooligans.
It'll soon be cleaned up, swept up and beautiful.
Come on.
A stone like that does not belong to one man.
You are sinning.
What?
That's really your final word?
I'm afraid so.
Then good luck finding the stone.
- I won't help you. - Sure.
Welcome to the 21st hour of the first Berlin Ladies' Dance-Marathon!
Outside a new day is starting, but in here we are ruled by the unending night.
Morning, Heini. How much did we make last night?
2.400.
Is that all? How can that be? Half the city's passed through here.
Thanks!
- Rudi, my hero! - Always at your service.
- I called in sick for the whole day. - Lovely.
See you, Reinhold.
- Keep going! - I'll try!
Good luck!
Well, would you like a little refreshment?
- What's that? - Well… Ammonia.
Really?
- Man, no… fizzy powder. - Give it here.
I think it would be best if we greeted the new day
with a fresh breeze and with a little more speed!
Hello number 42, don't forget to dance, you're sleeping on your feet!
Good morning, number 16! Hello! Wake up, number 39!
I think, for you, it's time for a…
Extra round for the audience!
The clock is ticking. All couples come into the circle.
39 is out!
42 is holding up well.
16 is finished!
Congratulations, number 42! The others are eliminated.
And it continues for everyone. Don't worry, the break won't last long!
- Your cocaine sucks. - What? That cannot be.
It's medical quality, direct from the Charité hospital.
- I need a break. - I like it when you cling on to me.
Is Doris still there?
Yes.
And the professional?
- Who? - The tall one, 14.
Sadly she is too.
- Tell me a story. - What, real or made up?
Theory or fact?
Well, the main thing is that you start somewhere.
Recently, the boy, that fell from the roof…
Yes?
We're letting lots of cases go that actually deserve to be investigated.
Dr. Schwarz says: Cases that cause more trouble than they solve,
and in the end, none are like that.
And you?
Me? I swore an oath, on Hippocrates.
It applies to the living same as the dead.
And what was up with the boy?
The hands looked like they'd been stepped on.
- Really stepped on. - I know, and?
I can't explain it any other way.
- A murder case? - I say yes.
- And your boss? - Says no. You were there.
- You have to report it to Böhm. - Böhm? Why not Rath?
They're both arseholes. But Böhm doesn't pretend to be anything else.
Where can I find Colonel Wendt, please?
In the saloon.
Colonel Wendt?
Arndt Scheer, SA-member, Berlin-Hellersdorf South.
Yes, and?
My father was a grenadier in three infantry divisions
and was in all three campaigns in Pomerania.
What was his name?
Lieutenant Colonel Scheer. Wilhelm.
A great loss, the death of your father.
He believed in a Germany that many have started to forget.
He told me a lot about you, Colonel.
Yes?
Sit down for a moment, keep me company.
No, I don't want to disturb you. I only want to express my admiration.
Admiration?
My father told me once, how you rescued his unit from an ambush.
Faced the enemy without hesitation, all your men with iron resolve.
I've always pictured you as a kind of role model, like you were for my father.
Take a seat. Waiter?
Coffee? Beer?
- Beer. - Very good, sir.
Who are you doing this for?
Sorry?
I can recognise a speech that has hostile intentions at its root.
Its construction is good, my boy, but transparent.
Well…
On whose behalf are you here?
Stennes.
And what is the aim?
To damage your reputation and thereby ensure that you're fired.
- Long term. - And short term?
To set Stennes free.
Enjoy.
- You can go? - Waiter?
Didn't you hear me?
It might sound strange, but I… I love and hate this task.
Ah, yes?
Yes, because my admiration for you is real.
I was glad to be able to speak to you up close, and…
heartbroken that this should happen to you.
- But orders are orders. - Yes.
Now I'm almost relieved about failing.
Enjoy.
I don't want to interfere in your research in any way, gentlemen.
I'd much rather broaden the remit.
And I'm sure I'm not the first that, gratefully,
has been thrown in this direction.
What if nobody sits here?
What if the target of this rocket isn't space, but…
Paris, London…
or Warsaw?
And the top part houses a detonator
behind which a ton of dynamite is hidden…
Or more?
Well, any military use should be well thought out.
It's definitely possible to develop the rocket in that direction,
if we were in the position to convince the defence minister.
If we were the first to develop a rocket of this type,
the result would be enormous military potential for the German empire,
and astoundingly lucrative business for Nyssen Ltd.
Convincing the ministry and General Seegers won't be a problem.
Well, first of all, the launch pad would need to be changed.
For this purpose they would be need to be more flexible.
The wobble clock register will have to be doubled,
and the trombone inner tract
and fracturing pistons integrated into the hull.
Can you explain it in more detail?
Commissioner…
Gentlemen.
- I hope I'm not disturbing you? - Quite the opposite, my dear.
Take a seat.
Let me introduce Doctor Litten, state laywer.
Commissioner Rath.
- A pleasure. - I've heard a lot about you.
Tomorrow Mr. Litten is going to this ridiculous trial.
Yes, that I've already heard of too.
Perhaps you can convince them to turn up in person tomorrow?
- I've already said I'll be there. - But Heymann hasn't!
Justice building, the air there is so bad,
my nose and throat immediately swell up!
- Don't start up with that again. - Yes, yes.
Calm down. We'll bend the knee.
- Gentlemen, excuse me. - See you tomorrow, Doctor.
Anyway…
The Commissioner wants our expertise.
What's it about?
I'm investigating a case that involves the ring clubs and the boxing scene.
Oelschläger. The civil servant. What exactly do you want to know?
To begin with… How are the Ring clubs involved in this?
What rules are the fights organised under?
- OK. But quickly. I have 10 minutes. - Waiter!
Bring us three large black coffees with a shot.
- Very good, sir. - And what do you have there?
Sportgazette? Very good, give it here.
Secondly, exactly six of the 12 Berlin Ring Clubs that are also boxing clubs.
Every club has its own boxers under contract.
The boxing clubs also host the fights in Berlin.
- That much I know. - Well done.
Tonight: Katsche Kroner versus Kurti the "Hammer" Schulz.
Kroner belongs to Red Hugo from the Immertreu,
and Schulz to Weintraub and the Rixdorfern.
This kind of fight is something like the high mass of their guild.
A holy mass.
But, above all, everyone that goes to these fights also bets on them.
And that's how they make money.
Ten pennies or 1,000 Mark… every, and it really is every amount,
is accepted by the bookies.
Victory, knockout, points, in which round one of them falls…
whatever you like.
Naturally, all the ring clubs want a piece of the pie,
but the biggest fish in the pond, or the batter,
is Weintraub. Walter Weintraub from the Rixdorfer Ring.
Since the death of the Armenian.
Ever since the Armenian passed on,
Weintraub has been the boss of the biggest game in town.
His venues, his bets. A well-oiled machine.
The closest person at the moment is Hugo Wannmacher from the Immertreu.
Evening, gentlemen!
Also known as Red Hugo.
Well, how are the bets looking?
16:1. For your Rubber-Hammer there.
- I'll check if the coast is clear. - Did you hear that, Katsche?
- The odds are against you. - People think you're going to go down.
The people know nothing about boxing.
I'll knock you down as easily as breathing.
Yeah, with your rubber arm?
Calm down! Kurti, calm down, calm down.
Come on, sit down.
Look at me, Kurti, let it go.
You can hit him in the nuts soon.
- Yeah. - Go out there and do it.
The people out there don't want to be bored, heh?
And you, leave him alive, OK?
"Leave him alive." Did you hear that?
Who has an interest in messing with Weintraub's business?
That's the wrong question.
Anyway, it's obvious that the murder of the one civil servant
that's responsible for the clubs
slightly messes up the delicate structure of the clubs.
You see, the Berlin ring clubs can be divided into two types.
The Northern clubs are controlled by the Eisen-Else.
That includes Red Hugo, Blind Bob, Ede the Knife,
and a few smaller fish that are bored of the middle German ring.
And the South swear their loyalty to Weintraub.
Clubs such as "Libelle," "Apachenblut" and "Deutsche Eiche."
From Robert the Rat to Adolf the Muscles.
United in mutual dislike of and shared dependency
from the Berlin administration,
because they all need a stamp of approval from the city.
Whoever killed Oelschläger,
will have become an enemy of the whole underworld.
On the contrary.
Watch who's there tonight. All the Godfathers will be there,
like we said, the Holy Mass of the underworld.
And a fight worth watching carries on above it.
Ladies and gentlemen!
Boxing fans, we come to the main match of the evening.
Welcome both boxers!
Even though everyone knows who's going to win.
Who's that then?
The gigolo Kroner against the Hammer?
8Please, that's not a boxing match, that's a massacre.
- A massacre on Kroner? - Definitely.
Schulz is a caveman.
What he does has nothing to do with boxing.
Ah, yes?
Yes! when he punches, they feel it in their teeth in the sixth row.
Does Weintraub control the fights?
I mean: Does he postpone fights?
In the rules, the fights are clean. Nobody would bet if they were fixed, right?
- However… - At the right rate? Now and then…
Yes, you can imagine how it rattles in the box.
- What about this evening? - Schulz versus Kroner?
Clean, I'd say.
Yes, yes.
- Kroner will win. - Third round.
- Knockout victory. - My man are standing by.
Last bets, gentlemen! Close the booths.
- 5,000 on Katsche. - Get back! Get back!
- 2 on Katsche. - 3 on Katsche.
I'm betting on Katsche.
KO in round three.
- All that on Kroner? - Yes.
- Get back! - Get a move on!
- Everything on Katsche Kroner. - On Katsche Kroner, KO in round 3.
Betting's over! Betting's over! No further bets can be placed!
Seconds out! Round one!
Fist-fighting, Commissioner, is a power fight,
a masculine dance.
Only in the ring can you see the virility of men
in its purest form.
The most beautiful virtues of our gender come to the fore:
Grace…
Power…
Order…
The experience of pain becomes sublime…
Entry into the male world ritually performed in the ring.
Representing we mortals,
Achilles and Hector fight.
Visible, simple, and understandable to all.
The time without words
begins with a clang of a bell.
Silence returns.
The only speech is through the fists.
Seconds out! Round three!
- Boss! Boss! - What is it?
Something's up. Some guys have suddenly bet on Katsche. Huge sums!
3rd round by KO.
- All on third round, KO? - Yes…
- Did we… fix the fight? - No.
How much?
Come on.
40,000.
Add the odds were at 1:16.
Like I said, at its basis the most beautiful thing in the world.
Unless the fight is fixed.
Shit, shit!
Boss!
8Kurti! Kurti! Kurti!
Don't mess up now! Kurti!
You have to win!
Now.
You must win! Kurti! You must win!
What?
You… must… win!
One…
Two…
- Three. - Get up!
Four…
- Get up! - Five…
Six…
- Seven… - Get up, Kurti!
Eight…
Nine…
Ten. Out!
The Katsche!
Yes, that's how you do it!
Diego. Did you see that? Did you see that?
I'mma get that pig.
- You are on thin ice. - Come on, stop it! Go away!
This is simply business.
Pal, you fixed the match!
I swear, Walter…
You bet 40.000 Mark against me behind my back.
Or how else can you explain this shit to me?
- Move! - This man, do you know who it is?
- The one with the red hat? - Yes.
That's Red Hugo.
I swear, Walter, I didn't have anything to do with it…
Mr. Wannenmacher? Hugo Wannenmacher of the Immertreu?
- Good evening, Mr. Weintraub. - Evening.
- Who wants to know? - Rath, Criminal Police.
Please come to my office tomorrow morning at 10am.
For questioning.
Ladies and gentlemen,
we have a victor by KO in round three!
From Berlin, Katsche Kroner!
Are you an idiot or what?
Don't try to rip me off, you ape. Don't try to rip me off.
But that's what happened! He came just before the fight.
When everyone was outside.
Yes, and he said he came on your orders.
He said it was a trick, an American trick! Because of the odds.
Who? Who was it?
- Some man, oldish. - Yankee!
Yes, an American!
No, he wasn't American, the trick is American.
Or at least that's what I thought. He was a lanky guy, like a ghost.
And you just believed him?
Just like that?
Katsche, you said you knew him! I did not say I knew him!
I only said that I thought I knew him.
You believed this dandy just like that?
A… American trick…
Or so we thought.
Neither of you can think!
Up there, where the brain is in other people, in yours there's just jelly!
Red jelly!
We're still not out of the line of fire regarding the Tietz burglary!
But we really did only put the banner up!
We don't know anything about the break-in.
It was pure coincidence that we were on the same roof!
The Bolshevik press says otherwise, that we're thieves. Do you get it?
We now know where they are hanging around, the ticks.
- Which "ticks?" - The thieves.
- Particularly the redhead. - You'd better find her, dammit!
- Where have you looked so far? - Everywhere!
- Yes. - Yes.
The Topp-Keller club?
- The tannery? - Yes sir!
Mother Litzen?
The redheaded girl hasn't been seen for days.
What going on with the return clause?
Go through the rest of the city
until we give the girl to the squad leader. Understood?
- Yes, Sturmführer! - Do you understand?!
- Yes, Sturmführer! - March!
Cheers, pal!
Wait, wait!
- Toni! - Do you have my dough?
- What dough? - From the jewels, you bastard!
- I'm glad you're here. Take a seat. - Don't change the subject.
It's a bit too hot right now to sell all that stuff.
But I'm doing my best. Have you put out any ads?
What?
You can trust me. We've always done good business together, right?
It's OK, Peter. I have some adverts, two of them. One is really good.
Her name is Behnke.
A widow, two rooms, a lodger.
Looks like jewellery in the bedroom under the underwear.
Good, good!
Bayreuther Street, yes?
Come on, take a seat. Sit down!
I'll get you something nice.
Is she there?
There are too many in there.
Well, what do we do now?
We go for back-up. And tell the Sturmführer.
No.
I'll go in.
In there? In uniform?
- Are you tired of life? - Yes.
And then?
Either I come out with her, or she runs out here and you catch her.
- I can do that too. - No.
If she trusts anyone, it's me.
Two minutes. Then we're coming in.
- Don't create any trouble, boy. - I'm just looking for someone.
You're daring.
- Where can we talk? - Here.
- Is there a back exit? - What's all this about?
I mean it. There are people waiting outside.
And you think I'll believe you? You're two sandwiches short of a picnic.
- What's going on here? - Go away.
Come on.
Hey, hey!
What… Let me go!
Are you mad? What are you doing?
Take it, and go.
Take the knife and get somewhere safe.
- Why are you doing this? - Do it. They're coming.
Hey!
Grab her!
Get the knife!
- And I trusted you, you pig! - Take it!
So, it's you!
You're on watch.
- What? - Go and see if anyone's coming.
What are we doing?
All good stuff.
Go to the street.
Go on!
Moritz!
I can't do it any more. I can't do it any more.
Please, Miss Doris, wake up!
Number 42.
Sadly, that was inevitable. But time is passing.
Three… Two…
One. Out!
- Where can I make a report? - What about?
- Cop murder. - What?
What did you just say?
I saw a cop being killed.
Only two couples are still standing, ladies and gentlemen.
Now we're down to the deciding minutes.
Wait a moment.
Bring her here.
That's not right. She has to move, or she's disqualified.
On one side is number 14…
our steeliest contestant, with her tireless partner,
a couple since the first round.
And, on the other side, number 27!
- Even to the last metres… - Partner change time, sir.
- Now. - Lotte!
Before you say anything, let me finish.
- Let go! Hands off! - But what is that?
- I have to talk to you. Rationally. - Go away!
- Rudi?! Rudi! - Number 27. 10 seconds to go!
Ten… Nine… Eight…
- Seven… Six - Charlotte, come on!
Five… Four…
Three… Two…
- So shabby, taking advantage of this. - Charlotte, where is your sister?
- She has to turn herself in. - Why? What's she done now?
She killed a police officer.
Do you know where she is?
What?
Number 27, you are already on the countdown.
Time is running out.
Nine…
Eight…
Seven…
Six…
Five…
Come on.
One!
Out!
Frau Cziczewicz?
Renate?
Let me in!
- I heard you. - And?
- Where's Toni? - Haven't seen her for a while.
- How come? - She's in trouble.
Do you know where she is?
If…
If you see her, tell her, tell her that…
Miss Ritter?
- She's not here. - I'll take you home.
All done.