A NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES
Shall we call it off?
Then what? Forget it ever happened?
Keller will be here in an hour. She'll have us busted.
The next staff rotation will be in two weeks.
Enough time to have a new strategy ready.
Melanie's mother will be dead by then.
You shouldn't have made her any promises.
Breakfast!
She's out of her mind.
Enough of this.
Get her something from the bakery around the corner.
Don't do anything stupid, Karl.
I don't want to lose my job.
Egg, cheese, salami. And a croissant.
She takes her coffee black.
Room service?
Can I help you?
That would be a start.
Open it.
You'll get a larger cell,
access to the workshop,
and the television set you want.
Don't forget the cigarettes.
And some for now.
We have an hour left to do this, or we're done. Forever.
No larger cell.
No TV set. No nothing.
Where is she?
I'm no good at reading maps.
It's a crime chart. It's easier to read than a cycling map.
I never rode my bike there.
You two were there plenty of times.
Where is Melanie Weiss buried?
Where did you bury her?
Look at it!
Maybe, if we drove out there again.
Tell me now, or I'll make sure you spend the next 20 years...
You kidnapped,
assaulted,
killed, and buried her.
If you don't help us find the body right now,
do you think anyone will ever bother to do anything for you again?
Her mother is dying.
And she has just one wish.
She wants to know where her child is so she can bury her properly.
Tell me. Now.
I'm hungry.
Breakfast...
I'll make you an offer, Schulz.
You're in no position to be making offers.
- We cleared this with the higher-ups. - Shut the door.
If that were true, you wouldn't mention it. What's going on?
That's Claudia Hartmann. Mark Kreutzer's old flame.
The Spreewald Murderers, the first post-GDR serial killers.
So?
Schulz led the investigation.
Six girls.
She lured them in, and he assaulted and killed them.
What is she doing here? She was sentenced ages ago.
The first victim, Melanie Weiss, was never found.
Her mother is dying.
Hartmann said if we let her out of her cell, she'd lead us to the body.
- But we've spent all night... - What are the grounds for questioning?
We worked it out with the prison warden and the state prosecutor.
We're not recording it, obviously.
Let me make this perfectly clear: this ends now.
- We have 45 minutes left. - For what?
Until she's due back in her cell.
Before anyone notices.
Hard or soft?
What's the offer?
Mrs Weiss wants her daughter, and I want mine.
No way.
It sounds fair to me.
You could get charged with torture for this.
And you know it. Don't you even care?
One call from me and you're done.
So what's stopping you?
The fact that you wouldn't even care, that you always think you're right,
and that I was just starting to like you.
I've been talking to Ingrid Weiss,
Melanie's mother, since day one of the investigation.
For 21 years.
I wrote up the report when her daughter didn't come home.
I was in the woods when we found her glasses and pants
with Kreutzer's semen on them.
I racked my brain for days, trying to figure out how to tell a single mother
that her only daughter
was raped and murdered
and buried somewhere in the forest.
I gave her my support the entire time.
Then, just before the trial is supposed to start, Kreutzer takes a ballpoint pen
and slits his wrists in his cell,
and she goes to church to light a candle for him.
Five years ago, she texted me to say she's got cancer.
Since then, I've seen to it that she's had the best doctors.
And for what? The woman's dying now.
And I will lay her daughter to rest before she kicks the bucket.
After that you can suspend me or whatever. I don't care.
Morning.
Do they know about this?
I told them they should stay out of this, but...
Who else knows?
Prosecutor Klauss and a couple of people from the prison.
And now me, right?
Yes.
Let me make a suggestion.
You're not feeling good today.
It's understandable considering your condition.
Go home. You were never here.
What has she said so far?
Nothing. It's been that way since her arrest 20 years ago.
She talks a lot but says nothing.
So what's yelling and issuing threats going to get you?
You can't negotiate with someone like her.
You can negotiate with anyone.
Hartmann got pregnant before her arrest and gave birth in jail.
She agreed to put it up for adoption before the sentence.
That proves she has at least some compassion.
A closed adoption?
I only know what's in the file.
There's no data on her.
She's living somewhere without a clue. Thank goodness.
But Hartmann thinks you know more.
Like her daughter's whereabouts and her name.
We wanted to use that.
And now you can't tell her, because you don't know.
We wouldn't tell her if we did.
Should she be allowed to ruin another life?
See what you can find, OK?
Now.
I'll talk to her.
No. Tell me your idea, and I'll go in there.
Why should she trust you?
She wants her daughter.
We're looking into Mrs Weiss's daughter. And I'm a mother, so...
ADOPTIONS 1999-2000
I'm glad you offered, but you have no clue about this.
A woman like Hartmann
is at the bottom of the pecking order at the women's prison, given what she did.
She's learned to defend herself.
Sending a pregnant woman in there and rubbing her nose in it? Really?
Hartmann is unpredictable.
If she learns we don't know her daughter's name or her whereabouts,
we're screwed.
Good morning.
Would you mind if I let in some fresh air?
Now they're bringing in the big guns.
Is your bump real?
Do you want to touch it?
And I thought you'd run out of ideas, Schulz. Congrats.
To you, too.
Ms Hartmann, you know you don't have to be here.
When are you due?
In 14 weeks, that's the projected date anyway.
Oops.
What happened to your arms?
An allergic reaction.
To laundry detergent.
Have you seen a doctor about it?
Boy or girl?
A girl.
What's her name?
Paula.
Mark and I never had the chance to talk about a name.
What were you considering?
What's going on here?
The "we're both women, so we get each other" hour?
You asked. Now I'm asking you back.
Maria.
Maria Magdalena.
It's a little old-fashioned, but a name makes a person, right?
If you ask me, the person makes the person.
So you aren't opposed to talking to me, is that correct?
You can get me out of jail every night. I'm not missing much.
One won't kill it.
You want your daughter's name, whereabouts and contact details. Is that right?
I get that.
If you get it, then get to it.
I keep asking myself how I'd feel...
if my daughter and I never had the chance to meet each other.
If I couldn't be there for her when she needed me,
or never know for sure how she was doing.
I'd go crazy.
By the same token, all your daughter knows about you
is whatever she's stumbled across on the internet.
Claudia Hartmann, six-time murderer.
How do you think this could work?
You just pick up the phone?
Just like that?
Yes.
You took no interest in her these last 20 years. So why now?
No one bothered to ask for 20 years.
Have you thought about what might happen?
How your daughter will react when you introduce yourself?
"I helped kill six young women before I turned 25."
Is that your opening line?
Fuck you.
Listen to me.
Everything your daughter would find out about you,
and the explanations you'd owe her...
How is she supposed to understand it all?
Claudia Hartmann, the monster.
I've had to take this crap from Schulz and everyone else for 20 years. Fuck off.
I'm not done yet. Did you kill anyone?
Read the verdict. It's all in there.
Mark Kreutzer took his life.
You were convicted,
not as an accessory, but for the things he did.
But are you a murderer?
You didn't assault the girls, did you?
What are you getting at?
I'm guessing it's important to you that your daughter understands you, isn't it?
You must want her to.
For her to understand who her mother really is.
That you are more than some monster like everybody says.
Why don't you just tell me my daughter's name and where she lives?
I'll tell you where Melanie Weiss is, and we can spare ourselves the rest.
Well...
As I said, you're free to go at any time.
Or you can try to explain it all to me and help me understand.
And if I can understand it...
maybe your daughter can, too.
What do you think?
What the experience was like for her? That's rather obvious.
Keller is doing well. Hartmann is losing her grip.
Very well.
Let's talk.
What is it you'd like to understand?
Why you did it all.
I'd like that, too.
The girls...
Choosing them, luring them in, driving them somewhere so Mark...
Love.
What do you think love is?
I don't know either.
My husband and I met back in high school.
It's more of a habit, I'd say.
A combination of trust and fear of the unknown.
It's awful, isn't it?
With Mark and me...
I was in my early twenties. I lived on Prenzlauer Allee.
I was heading out. He was on his knees, sanding the banister in a T-shirt.
His pants were rolled up high. I thought he was cute.
He glared at me. He thought I was some dumb techno groupie.
The Love Parade was big back then.
A day or two later, we started talking.
He liked the fact that I ran away from home at 17.
He found it really interesting.
Was that a first for you?
Yes.
Who's actually interested in anyone else?
But Mark was different.
We got beer at the late-night store,
took his delivery truck out to Müggelsee Lake, and went swimming.
Well, what can I say... We were there until morning.
That sounds nice.
No, really. It was fantastic.
That's a rarity.
Yes. That it was.
Müggelsee Lake. Romantic, my arse. That's where we exhumed them all.
She's opening up.
What happened after you spent that night together?
The next morning, he drove me to my job at the school cafeteria.
After hours, he'd stop by the counter sometimes and clown around.
The girls worshipped him.
- Weren't you ever jealous? - No. Why?
I was his girl.
They just boosted his ego.
I mean, there was no need for me to feel threatened by it.
You loved him and trusted him.
Yes...
It was only much later that I realised he had a thing for being someone's first.
I mean, it's weird, don't you think? I mean...
Your first time is no walk in the park.
Definitely not.
How were you able to spot the virgins as things went on?
By who flirted and who didn't.
And their level of maturity.
You find out a lot in the cafeteria.
Did his fantasies become apparent, or did he tell you about them?
That was after about a year,
when I threatened to leave him.
You wanted to leave him?
I woke up. Him already halfway inside of me, fondling me.
I wanted to tell him it wasn't OK. But he covered my mouth.
People like that are born that way, Mark always had an aggressive edge to him.
It was like there was something he wanted to suppress. Some kind of energy.
He could be the funniest guy one minute and then moody and aggressive the next.
We even went to see a therapist, but it was no use.
It only made him more withdrawn.
Then things happened the way they did that night...
Guess what he said when he fell to his knees and apologised?
He didn't want to go to the therapist anymore.
But he would tell me everything if I stayed with him.
Has a man ever been at your feet like that?
Right then, I could've done whatever I wanted to him.
I said,
we'd work it all out.
I said, tell me about it, we'll work it out.
And he said he wanted to do it with younger girls.
The high school yearbook?
Yes... It was like a catalogue.
Did you discuss it any further or ask him what he meant?
There was nothing to discuss. It was all clear.
I opened the yearbook, and he said who he wanted.
Melanie Weiss.
Is that enough?
We have to head out in half an hour.
What sort of history do you have with Hartmann?
Keller has gotten further in ten minutes than you did in five hours.
After all these years, you'd think she'd feel closest to you.
How did you see to the details the first time you did it?
I thought to myself...
The gym stayed open until 8 p.m. That's where they had practice.
It gets dark early in autumn.
And Melanie had volleyball practice on Thursdays.
She was on the school team.
She was always the first one out of there.
She must not have liked showering with the others. Teenagers that age...
She had a city bike. It was crazy heavy.
I was nervous that whole week... Can we pull it off?
She was at the cafeteria every morning and afternoon.
Then, on Thursday, she didn't show up.
She was sick. It's absurd.
Mark was at the end of his tether. He spent that weekend wasted at Tresor.
I tried to convince him that the plan would work next week.
Then it was all so easy.
I let the air out and pretended to be there by chance. "Hey, Melanie.
Sucks, you've got a flat tyre. It's after dark.
Come on. Put your bike in the back."
I told her I had to water some plants at the cemetery.
It wouldn't take long.
We drove for 20 minutes. She had no clue.
She talked about this and that.
And I was happy, because I didn't have to talk.
I could see Mark behind us on his bike. I knew things were getting serious now.
When I pulled up to the parking lot, she asked me
if we could change the school menu and I thought,
"If you only knew what is about to happen."
No.
That's not true. I thought, "Shit, I hope he keeps driving."
But he followed you.
I parked, and he got off his motorcycle.
At that moment, I wanted to scream to her to run away.
But it was like I was paralysed.
Then Mark swung the door open
and hit her in the face with his helmet. Three or four times.
There was blood everywhere.
And she was slumped over her seat belt.
Have you ever had a dog?
You know how they spot you from far away and then run toward you?
And you look them in the eyes and think,
"Are you going to jump on me or go for my throat?"
Mark grabbed, unbuckled, and dragged her out of the car.
There were three large bins there, for glass and paper...
I just sat there.
Should I go with him?
Or should I start cleaning the car?
I didn't know what to do.
Of course, he couldn't just fuck her and be done with it, but...
I understood, yet I didn't understand that we needed to get rid of them.
I heard everything.
His belt.
Her pants.
The passenger-side door was open. It lasted maybe five minutes, if that.
I just heard his breathing.
I think she was already gone by the time he had his way with her.
Then it is quiet all of a sudden.
And I hear the broken glass under his shoes as he walks over to me.
He lays down across the passenger seat. His face in my lap.
He says he is sorry. For me.
I caress his hair, the curls behind his ear.
I comfort him.
At that moment, he realises...
what living out his fantasies meant.
As did I...
His zipper is still open.
I feel so sorry for him.
Did you understand what had happened?
That Melanie was dead?
When we got home, we took a bath together
and then spent the whole day in bed.
Mark was scared that the police would knock at any moment. But no one did.
We just carried on as usual.
I called in sick. About noon, I went out to the store, just like that.
I thought to myself, it's impossible no one is coming for us.
A hundred people must have seen us. But no one came. Nothing happened.
By the time I returned to work, Schulz and his pals had already left.
No one asked why the cafeteria lady missed three days of work with no doctor's note.
It was so easy.
Mark and I had never been so close.
Now ask her where she is...
Why did she skip that part?
Satisfied? Enough of a stroll down memory lane?
Why didn't you call the police?
Why should I have?
If you don't talk about it, it's like it never happened.
Mark went to work. So did I.
What did you think? That things would go on like normal?
I wasn't thinking anything.
Mark was kind. He was appreciative. We didn't go out much.
Did you suspect there'd be a second time?
I was in the bathroom. In October.
And then I saw the book, the yearbook, between the magazines next to the toilet.
He had stuck post-its next to the ones he liked.
I thought, what do I do now? Do I throw it away or say nothing?
And then? What would he do?
He'd leave me, wouldn't he? What else?
And I'd be left all alone.
I set it down next to him, that evening.
After dinner. On the table.
What I don't get is that you did all of that for him.
What did he do for you?
Mark and me. No one gets it.
You could say, you took the fall, and he got away with it.
You set aside your needs and wishes and put his first.
Is that why you think I'll tell you where Melanie Weiss is?
Because I set aside my own "needs and wishes"?
You and Mark made audio recordings
of your third and fourth victim while he was assaulting them.
Yes. He used to listen to them.
What I said, about the dog.
While he was getting me off.
I wanted to see him like that again. His eyes.
So did he get you off?
Really?
Fuck you.
The photos that Mark took of you and one of the victims.
The girl lying in her grave. Was that about what you wanted?
You want your child.
You don't owe Mark Kreutzer anything now.
Do you think Mark would've told you?
The only one who could vouch for your innocence
slits his wrists shortly before trial and lets you do the time.
He would've gutted you like a fish
and made you regret you ever waltzed in here.
He killed himself just when you could've been given a more lenient sentence.
No! He killed himself, because he couldn't stand life without me.
Did he ever even bring up your daughter?
Or ask about her future?
How could he?
None of my letters ever got to him.
- How can you know? - Because he never wrote back.
- Maybe he didn't want to. - No! No.
Say it isn't true.
They sealed their envelopes with blood.
With the tips cut off their index fingers, they held them down against the paper.
It was all too clear. To read them, we had to break the seal.
You read them?
We wanted intel. But it was just cheesy stuff.
What happened to them?
Burned.
Keller's grip is slipping.
Give her another minute.
Why didn't you kill yourself?
Who knows?
My upbringing, I guess.
You were thinking of your daughter, weren't you?
The heartbeat. You can feel their every move.
What do you hope to achieve by getting to know her?
That she forgives you?
Your love for her is stronger than that, isn't it?
What happens if she can't handle the truth about you?
Isn't it better for her to hate a stranger in the newspaper
than her mother, whom she should actually love?
Let go.
For Maria's sake.
Is she doing well?
Better than you could hope for.
And right now, Melanie's mother has that same hope for her daughter.
A place where she is happy
and is always welcomed with love.
And you could grant her that wish.
Tell us where Melanie is.
Where does she live?
In Munich.
What does she do?
She's studying to be a pharmacist.
Does she have a boyfriend?
I really have no idea.
Say it...
In the courtroom, when they played the recordings of the girls,
how they begged and screamed, everyone cried.
You just sat there. I asked myself how that was possible.
Does this woman feel nothing?
- How much effort did you put into that? - What?
Not showing it.
I know that you feel things,
that you feel Melanie's mother's pain.
A lot was going on that night. Lots of teenagers.
Parties on the beach. It was warm that September.
Look at that. Fifteen years old.
Despite everything that Melanie's mother has lost, she still has this.
I had to give up my daughter after she was born,
no one gave a fuck if I wanted a picture.
I was shackled when I gave birth to her.
My hands, left and right.
I had just enough room to prop my legs up a bit.
Two officers stared at me as if I was giving birth to the devil.
I was screaming bloody murder.
And when it was over, the midwife just took her away.
I didn't get a single look at my baby. Can you imagine that?
I'm sorry.
Sure.
Give me a photo, and I'll tell you.
This is never going to end.
Karl!
If you go in there now, you'll mess up everything you've worked for.
Twenty years, almost half your life.
Let her do it.
Thank you.
Ms Hartmann?
It's funny.
For a moment, I forgot that we weren't alone.
You just said you were forced to give up your daughter.
Berlin has cells for mothers with babies.
Didn't they offer you one like that so you could be with Maria?
At least for the first three months, until you were sure
whether you really wanted to release her for adoption?
They were afraid I'd hurt her or use her as a hostage.
What about your relatives?
Who?
Mark's parents didn't believe it was his child.
Foster family?
Listen, I've cooperated. One photo. We had a deal. What do you want now?
Why did you give your daughter away, if you think all of this is so unfair?
They talked me into it.
I was 25, accused of murder,
facing a life sentence and preventive detention.
I was on the front page of every newspaper.
And then one evening, Schulz came with a woman from child services,
and talked my ear off until I broke down
and finally signed the stupid papers to give up my child.
Everyone asks me what my problem is with him.
He took my baby.
Schulz convinced you to do it?
He pulled the exact same stunt as you.
What would you have done?
You had no right to do that.
What do you have to say about it, Proska?
You should apologise.
Of course.
I'm sorry, Ms Hartmann. I had no idea.
Spare me.
I'm truly sorry.
It is how it is. And I am who I am.
Give me the photo.
I can't.
Why?
I'll stop lying to you, OK?
I can't say I'm sympathetic or understand you.
If we spent more time together, then maybe.
But I want to be honest with you.
We don't have a photo.
We don't know a thing about your daughter.
You were lying.
Yes.
And Schulz, too. The whole time. And I'm sorry for that.
We don't know anything, and we may never find out anything.
You said she was fine.
You said you knew where Melanie Weiss is buried, but you don't, do you?
It was your first murder. You were suffering from shock.
Mark Kreutzer did it all himself.
You waited in the parking lot until he returned.
How long was he gone? Thirty minutes? An hour? That's how it was, right?
You don't have a clue.
You told me she had a good life!
Don't touch me, you're hurting me!
Handcuffs!
On the table!
- I'll call an ambulance. - I'll be fine.
No way.
We're calling it off,
and you're going to the hospital right now.
She didn't hurt her.
Can I do anything for you?
Yes.
Get over it.
Everyone is dead, in jail.
Just as I was starting to like you, I'm wondering
what else do you have up your sleeve besides Claudia Hartmann?
A lot. Probably.
Water would be nice.
Of course.
You pigs!
You damned pigs!
- You fucking arseholes! - We're practically on our way out.
She's pretty agitated. She just attacked one of our colleagues.
Of course you knew that would happen. Now it did.
We're on it. You'll have her back soon, all tied up with a bow.
To get her back to Pankow in time, we have to leave now.
Five minutes.
Then it's over.
I owe you an apology.
I hate you from the very depths of my heart.
You ruined my marriage.
Made me a terrible father.
I've been running after you and Mark this whole time.
I never spend time at home,
I don't sleep,
and I miss just about everything that is worth living for
although it's right in front of me.
Because of you.
Or so I thought.
Now I'm sitting here,
and I finally understand that the problem is not you, it's me.
I know you hate me, too.
I just want my daughter.
And I took her from you.
I always kept an eye on her
in case you ever tried to get to her.
I wanted to protect her.
Your Maria Magdalena.
Personally, I don't think that's a very good name.
I'm not messing with you.
This photo is from her driver's license.
She passed on her first try.
You will never get anything more.
Your eyes, I think.
What do you see?
An angel.
And what does she see?
A monster.
Where is Melanie buried?
I don't know.
Come on.
Something.
A year later, we went to have a picnic there.
That was just before Iris, the fifth one.
We drove along the edge of the forest, and then he said, "Look,
her bike is still there."
And it really was there. Melanie's bicycle.
Where was that?
Thank you.
What the hell?
I told you, that's all you get.
You'll have to rely on your memory.
Until we've found Melanie.
Open my purse.
Don't worry. There aren't any tampons in there.
Inside pocket, at the side.
It'll relax you.
What is that?
Rockrose. Works wonders.
That was pretty brave of you.
You're saying that to me?
I wasn't brave. I was dumb.
You should go see a doctor.
That's what I'm going to do now.
Take care.
Will you be back after your maternity leave?
Assuming you haven't wrecked the place by then.
Subtitle translation: Blondah Fritaud