- Victory over France!
Victory over France!
West front surrenders!
Victory over France!
- The French are defeated!
- Good morning, judge Fromm. - Yeah!
- There's nothing for you today.
- That is what I call good news.
I wish you a nice day just the same.
-Your honor.
- Heil Hitler!
-So what's the news?
- A letter from the military postal service. Typed.
-Who?
Quangel's son.
- Herr Quangel, for you.
- Something has happened to the boy?
-Those liars!
-Anna.
- You're to blame. You and your damn war!
You and your damn fuhrer!
- Anna. - Please..
Leave me alone.
-It's me, Eva.
Frau Rosenthal?
-Anything from my husband?
Thank you, Eva.
-What do you need?
-I don't need much.
As always.
-Morning.
- Frau Quangel, how much butter do you need?
Half a pound? Your usual?
You have milk and eggs.
Now how much butter do you need? - I..
- Oh, come on!
- Come along. - Hurry up.
- Frau Quangel? I'll take you home.
- I'll be straight home from work.
- Hey, Quangel. What's the hurry?
Is something wrong?
We're going to get rich.
A victory over France.
Know what that means?
We're gonna be the richest country in the whole world!
- So, in the next few weeks we will have
destroyed England and ended the war.
And since the troops on the front
have been so victorious
it's time that those of us at home do our duty as well.
The fuhrer wants to increase production.
He expects productivity to rise by 30 percent
in three months and to double that
within the next half a year.
The fuhrer's wish is our command.
We will now receive any proposals
about how to reach this goal.
Sieg Heil! - Sieg Heil!
- Workers, does anyone have anything to say?
Yes, foreman Quangel?
- To increase productivity, additional machines
must be installed and a few shirkers laid off.
-What are you talking about?
Who are those shirkers?
- Some can't keep up with the work pace.
Others don't want to.
Talking politics, skipping work.
Some men here are good at it. Very good.
- How dare you talk like that, Quangel?
You're not in the party!
How dare you discredit members of the party!
- Quangel only thinks of himself.
Do you donate anything to the winter relief fund?
And to the fuhrer?
- Germany has taken my only son.
Yesterday, I was informed he died in combat.
For you. For the fuhrer.
I ask you, Dolfuss.
What more can a man donate
than his child?
- Anna! Anna, we have visits to make!
The Nazi women's league is waiting for you!
Heil Hitler, Anna! Where were you?
- We're late! - Now, come on.
It's time to go.
We'll wait downstairs. - I'll change. I'll change.
- So, first that Frau Gerda Kleinschmidt.
Then there's a Frau else Wernicke
who just lives around the corner, and then..
Ah, listen to this, Claire Gehrich.
- Ah, she's the wife of Obersturmbannfuhrer Gehrich.
You have to be really diplomatic if you visit her.
- Should I cross her out? - No, no, we can't do that.
We all have to do our part
but, uh, perhaps not today.
We have to be in good shape for someone like that.
What a nice place.
- What can I do for you?
-Your husband?
-Yes.
- Your husband's fighting in Poland
isn't he, Frau Kleinschmidt?
He's risking his life, day after day for his people
and his fatherland while you are having a good time in Berlin.
-Aren't you ashamed?
- But I..
But..
Nobody understands.
I'm so worried for him.
I'm so worried, but..
-Knock it off!
Get back to work.
Don't think this will save you from the front.
I'm not going to lie.
I know you did it on purpose.
You understand?
If the doorbell rings, don't open the door.
For anyone.
- Otto? - I'm writing.
-To who?
- I don't know.
I'm writing cards.
Cards that tell the truth.
People will read these cards.
They will pass them on.
-Cards?
You're scribbling cards?
What is that supposed to do?
Why are you writing like that?
- I'm disguising my handwriting.
Let me do it. Please.
-It isn't even locked.
-What if she screams?
-She won't scream.
- My stupid wife takes food to her.
- The old Jew.
She hauled all her stuff up here after they burned her shop.
-She's hiding.
Calm down.
- Papa, upstairs.
- Let's go. Quickly.
-What are you doing here?
Barkhausen, what are you doing in this apartment?
- Herr Persicke..
Neighbor, we can share.
-It's Frau Rosenthal.
- Please, it's not my fault. - Out.
-Look for the money.
-I'm sorry.
-There's no need to be.
You can stay with us.
This is too dangerous for you.
- Ssh.. - Judge Fromm?
- Come with me, madame. Quickly.
They'll be back.
Ssh, be quiet. Come in.
My deceased daughter's room.
No one will look for you here.
Try to get used to it.
Go to sleep and tomorrow morning
you will listen exactly to what I say.
Tomorrow.
Goodnight, Frau Rosenthal.
-Is she back in her apartment?
No. - I'm coming with you.
You can't stop me.
- They'll hang you. They hang women, too.
-Of course they do.
- You only go up to the building.
I go inside. I place the card.
I'll be right back.
-I'll be with you in a minute.
This way, sir.
80 pfennig, please.
- A schnapps. - Coffee for me.
No, I'll have a schnapps, too.
-So, we begin.
From now on we are alone.
- You will not leave this room
for a certain period of time.
Possibly a long time, you are my guest.
But believe me
the moment you step out of that door
I will no longer know you.
You know what they called me in the courtroom, don't you?
No? Cold-blooded Fromm.
I have a mistress whom I obey.
Her name is justice.
- But I want to be in the apartment
when my husband arrives.
- He isn't coming back and you know that, Frau Rosenthal.
Lock the door. Yes?
- Where is this Barkhausen, then? Where does he live?
- It's right here.
- Have you heard of that old woman that disappeared?
- I know her.
-See what they want. Go on!
-Hey, is the old man at home?
- What's it got to do with you?
-A lot.
It's got a lot to do with the police, too
and with the man at the party.
That's him, inspector. It was him and the other bum.
The husband of the postmistress.
My father and me, we caught them in that
Jewish woman's apartment on the fifth floor.
They wanted to clear everything out.
You ought to have it confiscated.
- You did it yourself, you creep.
You and your father. - Let's go.
Let's talk to the woman.
-She isn't upstairs.
- Herr Fromm...
- for you I'm still, your honor.
Who is your commanding officer?
- Escherich. Inspector Escherich.
Police headquarters Prinz Albrecht Strasse.
-I know the address.
Get him here.
And then you leave this apartment.
-Like hell I will.
So, you live alone?
You don't mind if I look around, do you?
Good day.
-You should have seen it.
Papa got into them, he had them scared.
Then me and my brother went after him
and his buddy and really had them running.
-Baldur?
- My brother's an ss Sturmbannfuhrer.
- Is that you? Baldur Persicke?
You often played in my apartment.
You'd ring the bell
because I gave you apple cake.
Right?
How big you are now.
And how strong.
-Get her out.
- But... - Just go!
Heil Hitler!
-No!
-She's dead, Otto.
-I saw.
- You said you saw how judge Fromm hid the old woman
at his place, didn't you?
You know what's going on in this apartment house.
A break-in, unlawful appropriation
of national wealth
a denunciation of a respectable citizen.
Enough!
-Oh, I just..
- And a dead woman who was very much alive a moment ago.
You're not getting out of this one.
- You can't do this. No, you can't.
- Oh, yes, he can, but he won't.
Because he's a police counsellor and not a monster.
I'm sure this gentleman didn't take
anything that doesn't belong to him
because he knows exactly what that would mean.
So, he will do what he does best
when he leaves this place.
He will return to his comfortable little apartment.
And he will observe what is going on here.
- Yes, of course, inspector. I will.
-You can leave now.
- Your honor, did something happen?
I mean, has Frau Rosenthal been...
- I don't know what you are talking about, Frau kluge.
Now, if you'll please excuse me.
- I'll take these five cards, please.
- With stamps? - No, I, I already have stamps.
Thank you.
- That makes 25 pfennig.
I'll wrap it up for you right away.
-I need gloves. Thin gloves.
-Sorry, we don't have any.
You might find some..
Let me think. Maybe you'll find them...
-no, no, it's fine.
Just these. Thank you.
- Goodbye. - Goodbye.
- Listen, "Hitler's shadow falls over Europe
"like the devil's shadow.
Pass this card on. Down with the Hitler regime."
What a scrawl! Even my daughter writes better than that.
-Oh, yes?
- If you ask me, he is an incredibly stupid person.
- Someone from the lower classes
who works with their hands.
Perhaps unskilled, but stupid? No.
- Probably someone just letting off steam.
Just a flash in the pan.
There is more?
"Mother. The fuhrer murdered my son.
Mother. The fuhrer will murder your sons, too."
Where?
- Neue Konigstrasse. Two weeks ago.
Another office building.
-Filth.
So what do we do now? Report it?
- If we had more men, it wouldn't be a problem.
We would catch this, uh, uh, how shall we call him?
"Hobgoblin," in no time.
I'd investigate everyone in Berlin
who has lost a son within the last two weeks.
- Why?
- "The fuhrer murdered my son."
There's only one son. - And?
- We wait. We collect information.
Put it together. That is our job.
We're German professionals. Not amateurs.
- What if he goes on doing it
and no more cards are turned in?
Who knows how long this has been going on.
- Think what it would be like to touch
one of these cards in a public place.
To stand there, to read it.
Knowing somebody might be watching you
waiting to record your response.
No, whatever our hobgoblin writes
it's going to end up here with us.
Let's say... 95 percent.
-I say it's less.
It's a bet?
-So we wait.
We wait for our friend to make a mistake.
-Good morning.
- Please come in. - Thank you.
- Heil Hitler! - Heil Hitler!
- So, you're from the Nazi women's league, my dear Frau?
I'll just have the girl bring me my purse.
- I'm not here for a donation, Frau Gehrich.
Definitely not.
- So, what exactly can I do for you?
-Why aren't you at work?
Didn't you read our arms industry's calls for help?
-Look at me.
Do I look as if I'm suited to manual labor?
-Have you ever tried?
- I'm not about to jeopardize my health.
Anyway, I can always get a medical certificate.
- Of course you can, you can buy one for 20 marks
from your personal physician
but that won't help you in this case.
In this case, you need a doctor from a factory
to certify that you are unable to work.
A doctor that we assign to you.
- Alright, sign me a doctor and you'll see what happens.
- You're mocking me and the women's league?
Making fun of our regulations and our fuhrer?
I warn you - and I warn you.
You don't seem to know who I am!
My husband is Obersturmbannfuhrer!
- That makes it even worse, Frau Obersturmbannfuhrer.
You'll hear from us.
Unless you have any more significant information?
An ill mother, perhaps?
- Your ID and your name. At once!
I promise you, there will be consequences.
-Here you are.
I don't have any calling cards..
Because I'm just a common worker.
Heil Hitler.
No, I don't understand.
That woman comes under the labor service duty law.
And you know that as well as I do.
- Frau Gehrich is the wife of an Obersturmbannfuhrer.
So, I'm sure you understand that...
- well, where does it say that women like that
are exempt from general duties?
Where? - Oh, don't be so obstinate.
She has to look after her overworked husband.
-I do, too!
And from what I saw, that woman has domestic help.
I didn't do anything wrong.
I acted according to our regulations.
- So, are you going to apologize, Frau Quangel?
-What for?
- Then I will do it, on your behalf.
And you, you take some time off.
- Oh, you're throwing me out, because I told
a woman like that the truth?
- No... - Oh, no, you misunderstood me.
Just take some time off and rest.
Gather your strength.
-That's important, Anna.
At a time of mourning.
Alright?
-Alright.
- Heil Hitler!
- Heil Hitler. - Heil Hitler, Herr Quangel.
- And all the best for you, Anna.
- Thank god.
No more women's league. - Well done.
-How can you be so calm?
I nearly died when I saw the gloves.
-Gloves, Anna. Just gloves.
-What are we doing, Otto?
We've lost our son. Other people have lost..
But they, they don't..
-This system, this regime..
Now I feel that we're free.
I mean..
Freed... From all of it.
This is how I feel.
-Luderitz Strasse 23.
- Next. - Amsterdamer Strasse 27.
-Hey, Quangel.
Where are you going? Get into the shelter!
- It's a shelter for mothers and children, boy.
So it's not suitable for us.
- Hey, what are you doing here? What are you doing?
Stop! What..
Hey, you! Stop!
Wait! Stop! Stop, wait!
Wait!
Stop!
Hey.
Hey, you! Wait! Who are you?
-Please, can you help me?
I need to find the shelter for mothers and children.
I've lost my way. My daughter is waiting for me there.
You must know your way around here. Please.
- Your daughter, you say? - Yeah.
- How old is she? - She's only six years old.
Six. Waiting for me at the shelter, she said.
And now she's there and I am not.
- Yeah, in two blocks and you're there.
It's calm now, calm down.
The people there will take care of her.
- I'm, I'm sure she's frightened and crying..
It's two blocks, you say? - Yes.
Two blocks and then left. You can't miss it.
- Heil Hitler! - Heil Hitler!
- Well, inspector, let's see what your filthy hack is up to.
I hear he's still scribbling away
right under your nose, huh?
- Heil Hitler, Standartenfuhrer.
He won't give up. It wasn't to be expected anyway.
Someone who takes one and a half hours to draw that
is persistent.
Tried it myself. - Oh, really?
- But rest assured, I always find my man.
We run our operation hobgoblin...
- Hobgoblin? - Yes.
- I like that. - Glad to hear then.
Judging by the distribution, the man lives
somewhere around Alexander square.
There were no cards here at first
but now he doesn't want to travel so far
and leaves more and more cards in his own neighborhood.
- Heil Hitler, Standartenfuhrer.
-How many?
- He also includes the eastern districts
and downtown. Here, look.
- I asked you a question, Escherich.
How many?
- One hundred and twenty seven, Standartenfuhrer.
One hundred and twenty nine, to be exact
with these two from this morning.
- More than a hundred! - Yes.
- If more than a hundred cards were turned in here
doesn't anyone of you wise asses ever think about how much filth
is still circulating out there?
- With due respect, let's think about human nature.
No one holds on to these scribblings
longer than necessary...
-tell me who's been doing this
because I will be asked
and I have to answer.
Now.
- The heroic battle of Stalingrad.
Someone has to write the truth
with all of these lies..
- What do you think happens to our cards?
-Why do you want to know?
- I want to know how people react.
- Some people will be afraid, probably.
Afraid that someone may have watched them pick up the card.
Some will maybe put them back.
Some people will turn them in
to policemen, block wardens
but our cards will also be read by them.
-It's like with a machine.
A little sand in the gears will not stop the machine..
But if a person throws a little more sand
and, and more..
The motor begins to stutter
the assembly line stops.
In my mind I see lots of people
throwing sand in the gears.
- You are a romantic, Otto Quangel.
-I'm a mechanic.
- Yeah, that, too.
-You are the romantic.
At least, you used to be.
-What? I, I used to be?
-Still, I saw you first
not the other way around.
-But you didn't say anything.
- You were dancing with Peter Reinke
and then you went with him to the Chestnut tree
you with your crown of flowers
laughing as if he was incredibly funny.
Reinke with his stupid haircut.
He's bald now and a member of the party.
- I would have danced with you, too
but you didn't ask.
- You knew the way I looked at you.
Anyway, I asked you two years later.
-Not to dance.
So you'd like a dance?
-No, just..
-Is that him, approximately?
-Yes, pretty much. Uh..
His eyes might be a little bit further apart. It was dark, uh..
- Thank you. You've done the Reich a great service.
- Heil Hitler, inspector.
- Fraulein Schaefer.
Have this passed around.
"Pass the information. Join the free press.
"Fear has taken control of you.
Kill it. Kill Hitler."
It's a man who is no longer young
who lost his only son in the French campaign.
Inexperienced at writing, but intelligent.
The style has visibly changed during the course of the year.
In recent months, he has used the title, "free press."
He's working in an increasingly professional way.
He never leaves fingerprints, he operates strategically.
He never chooses the same street twice in a row.
He always changes between these streetcar lines
seven, nine and 11.
"Each thought against the national socialists
is like sand in the criminal war machine."
"Pass on this card. Free press."
"How many children have to die?"
"Fear is their only weapon. Free press."
"Help us to put an end to the criminal war machine."
Zott, again and again the picture of a machine.
-Papers.
Papers.
- Today is the 22nd.
Today. - Birthday.
Sometimes I feel the danger as if it were so physical.
I actually feel it. - Please, don't frighten me.
-No.
To Hans. - Hans.
- No, inspector Escherich isn't in his office. Just a moment.
Operator speaking.
Incoming call from the Lothringer street section.
Reported arrest of suspect in the hobgoblin case.
Yes, I'll put you through.
-Anna.
-Oh, hello, Walter.
- Did he run away? Poor girl. - No.
I just brought him his lunch box. He left it again.
- Oh, I thought he was ill. He isn't here.
- Anna, how are you doing? You look great.
I'm getting married soon!
- Hanging's too good for you! - Traitor!
- You're a traitor! You're an enemy to the people!
- Oh! - What are you doing here?
- Oh, wait. We said we'd do this together.
Why didn't you go to work? - Not now.
-Traitor!
- Do you know what my day was like?
No. You don't think of that, do you?
Finding you're not at work
and then thinking you're still inside that building.
You know what that's like for me?
What is it, Otto? You want to get caught?
Is that what it is?
- Nothing happened. - Nothing happened?
Did you see who they arrested?
- A bum. He probably stole something.
It has nothing to do with us.
- That's the husband of our postmistress.
What makes you think it has nothing to do with us?
-They're divorced.
- That doesn't mean anything, damn it!
I was so afraid for you.
What if it's a, a sign, if it's a warning?
-It isn't.
Stay calm.
Remember, when Hans died..
You said your life wasn't worth a thing?
You were right.
That's why we can be free
why we don't have to be afraid.
-But your life
Otto, your life means something to me now
means, means..
Everything to me now.
- We said we'd do this together.
-Oh..
- We won't stop. - Aren't you afraid?
- Today I stayed again to watch.
I need to see what happens when people read it.
-Come.
- My sick certificate had expired.
That's why I went to see the doctor.
They send me to a camp otherwise. Please!
I swear
by the lives of my children.
Please. - Two sons?
And they're both soldiers, right?
- Both of them. Yes.
One of them is even in the Waffen-ss.
- And they're both alive, I hope?
-Yes. Here.
Our Karl, in Poland.
-Well... That's good news.
- So the man was caught red-handed. There are witnesses.
And here, the Corpus Delicti.
It's obviously the writing of our hobgoblin.
Come on, Escherich. We've got him.
- You know the criminal's profile as well as I do, Zott.
We're looking for a mechanic who lost his only son.
And then you drag in this ridiculous character
a gambler
who doesn't even live near our target area
with two children who are very much alive.
- Does that, does that mean you believe me?
- Yes. You can go. - Thank you. Thank you.
- Get out. - God bless you.
Thank you very much.
-Bravo.
- You did what? You let your hobbygobby go?
- Hobgoblin, Standartenfuhrer.
With due respect
you may be my superior, but as a member of the ss
you're not necessarily a criminalist.
I'm a policeman, and I'm asking you to let me do my job
just as I have learned from my experience..
-Experience?
I know all about guys like you.
Intellectuals, wise guys.
Don't mess up my floor!
Swallow your damn blood!
Up! Up, up, up, up, up! Come. Up.
You think you're clever, huh?
And we're just the guys from the ss
who don't have a clue, right?
Say it. I want to hear it. I'm smarter than you guys.
Say it!
Say it! I can't hear you. - I'm sorry.
Huh?
You have two days..
Two days to eliminate the guy you let go.
Now, get rid of that thing!
- Frau Quangel?
You're Hans's mother, right?
- Yes. - Uh, Dietrich.
I was one of Hans's classmates.
-Dietrich. Of course.
How are you?
- Fine. Thank you. Well, I'm alive.
-I'm glad you've come back.
- Herr Necker? - Excuse me, I have to go.
You know, Frau Quangel, I..
I miss Hans a lot.
- I have nothing to do with Enno anymore.
He hasn't been my husband for a long time
before god.
-Now..
Where were we? Yes.
You were about to tell me
how to find that ex-husband of yours.
So here you've been hiding?
I know you've nothing to do with the cards, Enno.
- Oh, that's good news, inspector...
- but the guys from the ss think it was you.
And I'm afraid they're in charge now.
In charge of me, too.
They will arrest you, they will interrogate you
in their own way.
-I'd rather be dead.
-You're right.
You'd rather be dead.
- Uh.. - Shh..
It's alright. It's better this way.
- No. Please. No! - Shit!
- Suicide?
Good news, Escherich.
The noose has tightened.
Hm?
No new cards?
-Not yet.
No.
-Hm.
- Thanks for taking over for Fritz.
It's getting closer.
- Foreman Quangel, the machine is overheating.
-Turn it off!
Don't you have anything to do?
Ludwig.
There's something for you.
It's quite something.
Better take it to the management.
You're a party representative.
You have to do it. Stick by the rules.
- Yes, sir.
-Everyone on today's shift.
Their names, addresses. - Of course.
- Our man must live somewhere between christburger
chodowieckistr and jablonskistr.
- No, nobody with that address, inspector.
- Who is the foreman? Who knows his men best?
- Well, that's Fritz Kemper. - Well, get him here at once.
- That's impossible. He injured himself this morning.
- And who replaced him? - It's Quangel.
Otto Quangel from the other shift.
- Well, his name is not in the list.
I, I thought it was complete.
- Sorry. Uh, he's just helping out today.
Of course, he does not know the people.
-Where does he live?
Otto Quangel.
-Walter, where is Otto?
- Good morning, foreman Quangel.
-Good morning.
-Please, have a seat.
Frau Quangel!
We know you are here!
Open the door!
Look at this Quangel.
This will surely interest you.
What do you think that is?
Don't even make the effort, Quangel.
There are exactly 267 cards.
Is that the number you were looking for?
Think about it, Quangel.
Every single card was voluntarily turned into us
voluntarily.
We didn't find any ourselves.
They couldn't wait to hand them over to us
all those people.
Some were arrested, one committed suicide.
How could you seriously believe
that you would change anything
you, foreman Quangel?
- Who killed himself? - It doesn't matter.
A small fish. Insignificant.
-Everyone is significant.
It's my fault. - Oh, there we go.
Now you have admitted your crime.
Tell me, Quangel, precisely.
How many cards did you write yourself
I mean, altogether?
-Two hundred and eighty five.
-Eighteen.
Eighteen cards weren't turned in.
By the way, we have Anna.
- Then let her go. She has nothing to do with it.
- I know you are lying, Quangel.
Your wife dictated what to write.
- Do I look like someone who would let his wife
dictate things to him?
It was my idea from the beginning.
I thought it all up. I carried it out by myself.
-She confessed.
-Now you're lying.
- She confessed. She didn't want you to get all the credit.
-I'll sign my confession
but, inspector, Anna
please, don't.
It's, it's not necessary.
- Send a recording clerk to my office.
- Excuse me, sir. - Yes.
-Ah, Escherich.
To the hobgoblin!
-Quangel.
- Anna. - Otto.
- You know what will happen? - Yes.
-It can't be changed.
-I know, Otto.
It doesn't matter.
-No.
- All rise!
- Heil Hitler. - Heil Hitler.
- Time's up.
-Don't be afraid, my child.
Don't be afraid.
Judge Fromm, would you stay with me a moment?
I'll close my eyes and pretend it is Otto.
-Time, Quangel.
Put these on.
-Can I do something for you?
Is there something you need?
-The card and a pen.
You took her anyway.
- I read all your cards, hobgoblin.
Yours and your wife's.
I am the only person who read all of them..
All of them, except for 18.
Eighteen cards.