All language subtitles for The Untouchables - S02E03 (Nicky)_000

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Tonight's episode...

Starring Robert
Stack as Eliot Ness.

Co-starring Michael
Ansara, Joe Disantis,

Philip Pine.

With special guest
star Luther Adler.

And narrated by Walter Winchell.

By the middle of 1933,

Eliot Ness and his
squad of Untouchables

had almost checked
the manufacture and sale

of illicit whiskey in Chicago.

Yet, despite their success,

one of the biggest and
shrewdest operators

continued to elude them.

Through elaborate
schemes and machinations,

he continued to procure
alcohol and process it.

His name was Gus Marco,
alias Giuseppe Marconi.

On the surface running
a respectable taxi garage,

but below the surface,

under the cement
floor of the garage,

Gus Marco operated
the largest illegal bottling

and cutting plant
in the country.

A former gambler who had
been ruled off several racetracks

for attempting a fix,

Gus Marco had carried his habits

into his current business.

He believed in the
payoff, the "schmear."

Gus was always one to
put out a buck to make two.

What's the matter?
What's the matter?

You nervous, Mario?

I'll be all right.

Your hand is wet.

I'll take care of my end.

You better do that, Mario.

You take my money, you deliver.

It gets you a new cab

and lots of education
for your kids, right?

I just don't want any gunplay.

Don't worry.

Everything's taken care of.

It's all yours. You're driving.

You just do what Mike tells you.

You have nothing to worry about.

I'll have the other
truck follow him.

He ought to be
through in an hour,

if nothing goes wrong.

Nothing will go wrong.
Everything's taken care of.

Go ahead.

Gus Marco had indeed
taken care of everything...

The way he always did.

He had paid $2,500 in
cash to a federal guard

to look the other way
while his men stole a load

of thousands of
gallons of pure alcohol

stored in a
government-bonded warehouse.

Let's go!

Under the supervision
of Mike Marconi,

Marco's right-hand man,

the men did the job
with clockwork precision.

They siphoned the alcohol
out of the government drums

into their own, then filled
the empty drums with water.

In less than one hour,

more than a half a
million dollars worth

of bonded-government alcohol...

All right, back up, Mario! had been
transferred to Gus Marco's truck.

Hold it!

Mr. Marconi? Yeah?

I think I heard
something out there.

You're imagining things.

Open those doors.

I tell you, there's
somebody out there.

Look, you're supposed to
watch this stuff... not drink it!

Now get going!

Federal officers!
Hold that truck!

Eliot Ness and his men
had cut off another source

of illicit alcohol in Chicago,

but they had not yet
caught up with the leader

of the bootlegging operation.

Gus Marco was an
angry and worried man

the following morning.

Angry because
half a million dollars

had slipped through his fingers,

and worried because
he had to account

to more vital interests
for his failure...

The Syndicate... in the
person of Louis Latitto,

who could put thumbs down
or up on any member's life.

The fact that he
had been sent to talk

to Gus Marco meant
serious trouble.

It hurts me I gotta
tell you this, Gus.

A man likes to come
around with good news,

like Santa Claus, you know?

The organization
trusts you with a big job

and you don't bring it off.

It wasn't my fault, Louis.

Everything was laid out right.

How did I know the
feds would be there?

How? How? How
do we know anything?

That stupid Mike...
He loused it up.

You know something, Gus?

Sometimes you talk
so foolish, I'm surprised.

It was you the organization

gave the responsibility
to, not your cousin.

It should have
gone right, Louis.

That's what I mean.

But it didn't.

So who takes the blame?

The porter who
cleans up the store,

or the man who runs it, hmm?

That's something we
gotta get straightened out

before we go ahead, right?

Right?

Right!

Talk easy, Gus.

I don't like noises.

I hear big noises, I
shut them off, you see?

And if I can't hear
what you got to say...

I can't go back
and tell the fellas

that Gus Marco is sorry
he made a mistake...

And that he won't
make a mistake again.

Right?

Right.

What you say?

You gotta have style, Gus.

Class.

Take, for instance, a
man who doesn't do his job.

Such a man could get fired.

I wouldn't want to
see you get fired.

It's not good all around...

For you or for me.

You're working for a
very big organization.

One mistake, they
turn their head...

the next mistake,
it's your head.

You treat me like
I was some flunky!

You're talking too loud, Gus.

Like I didn't work for the
organization all the time...

never putting out
for anything else...

That don't mean nothing?

Do they call me in to
ask me what happened?

Do they take into consideration,

I got problems they
never dreamed about?

Please, Gus... no,
no, no, no, please.

I ought to kill you.

Gus, I swear I did
everything like you said.

Right to a tee.

To a tee?

Then how did they find out, eh?

I don't know.

Maybe they tailed the guard.

Yeah, and what if somebody
got a good look at you.

I tell you nobody saw me.

You tell me, you tell me.

How many times
have I warned you...

I can't afford anyone poking
their noses into the garage.

One relative I got,
and he's stupid.

There's no way to trace us.

All the men are dead...

And the trucks we used
last night, they were stolen.

I tell you, there's
nothing to worry about.

You got nothing to worry about.

Cost me a fortune
and it's nothing to you?

I didn't say that.

You didn't say! You didn't say!

Gus, please... Shut up!

I... I got to call Detroit,

and get some new
men I can depend on.

And you?

You, all you do is stay here,

and mind the store.

And do nothing else.

You...

Not a bad haul last night.

Not good enough.

I wish we'd got the big boy.

Can I give you a lift, Rico?

No, thanks, Eliot.

I think I'll take in
a movie tonight.

See you in the morning.

Right.

You all right?

I'm fine.

Let's go after him.

Come on out.

Throw your gun out.

There's my gun.

Now come on and get me.

He's only a kid.

Be careful with this kid, Eliot.

All right, the game of
hide-and-seek is over.

Come on out.

Look at the tough cops.

Two against one...
And they're yellow.

What're you afraid of?

You got the guns.

Come on, take me.

Look, boy, you're
just wasting your time.

We don't want to hurt you,

No? Then what're
those guns for, laughs?

All right, the guns are away.

Now come on out.

Don't rush me.

Get up.

Look, it's no difference to me.

If you don't want to walk
out of here, we'll drag you out!

What was all the shooting about?

I wanted to kill
you, that's what.

Somebody tell you to?

What is this, a third degree?

Come on, take me to
jail and get it over with.

Put the bracelets on
and let's get out of here.

Whose idea was it?

Nobody's. I did it myself.

Remember one thing, copper,

when I get out of reform school

or wherever it is
they're gonna send me,

I'm gonna come
gunning for you again,

and I'm gonna kill you.

Here, wipe your nose.

The following morning,

Eliot Ness attended
a juvenile hearing

in the chambers of
Judge Simon Willard.

"Attempted murder
of a federal officer,

"assault and battery,

illegal possession of firearms."

Quite a report card.

And only 17. Is that right?

He's 16, Judge.

He'll be 17 next week.

Thank you, Mrs. Busso,
but I asked the boy.

I'd like him to answer.

Yes, sir.

Now, Nicholas, you tell me.

Exactly how old are you?

Not old enough.

What does that mean?

It means I've got a
year to kill somebody

and you can't kill me back.

They won't let you send
a 17-year-old to the chair,

that's what it means.

You've got it all
figured out, haven't you?

Ever hear of St.
Charles Reformatory?

Sure, I did.

But I'm not afraid of it.

Your Honor, don't listen to him.

He's not like this.

It's just because
they killed his father.

That's why.

But he's a good boy.

And there'll be no
more trouble, I swear!

Let me take him home.

His sister and I
will take care of him.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Busso.

We'll keep him in custody for
a week, until his arraignment.

Take him away.

Leave him alone!
Leave him alone!

He's my baby!

He's my baby! Take
your hands off him!

What's the matter
with everybody?!

Can't you see he's my baby?!

Judge Willard, I want
to ask a favor of you.

What is it, Mr. Ness?

I'd like you to let the
Busso boy go home.

Are you serious?

Yes, sir, I am.

Mr. Ness, I don't understand.

This boy tried to kill you.

You want me to give him another
chance to complete the job?

I think I know how he feels.

The way he sees
it, I killed his father.

It was your job.

You did it in the line of duty.

We know that, but he doesn't.

Mr. Ness, I must warn
you that boy's no good.

You give him another chance

and he'll wind up like
his father... in a gang.

That's what I'm counting on.

What's that?

It's a long shot, but...

the boy may lead me to the mob

his father was working
for the night he was killed.

I see... Well, you're
the complainant.

If you withdraw the complaint,

there's no way I can
keep him in custody.

Then I withdraw the complaint.

It's a big risk you're taking.

I know these young hoodlums.

You'll be a sitting duck.

I'll take my chances.

All right, Mr. Ness.

Thank you, Judge.

Two days later,

four men from the notorious
Purple Gang of Detroit

arrived in Chicago...
All specialists.

Their leader was
Charlie Stuebben,

a two-time loser on
armed robbery charges,

tried on four separate counts
of murder... no convictions.

You got trouble, Gussie?

The name's Gus.

What do you mean, trouble?

Like somebody crowding you?

I didn't bring you here
to play guessing games.

I gave you a proposition.
You want it or not?

33 and a third don't seem
like much, considering the risk.

Take it or leave it.

For an extra ten percent,
Gussie, I'm all yours...

Lock, stock and barrel.

Forget it.

Extra piece like ten percent?

Now, what's it to you, Gus?

"Risk insurance," they call it.

Louie Latitto, he'd like it.

Where'd you hear that?

I make up for Louie.
I got special ears.

Okay, it's a deal.

You got an extra ten.

Where are you getting this
alky you're talking about?

You leave that to me.

You want us, you
know where to find us.

Come on, boys.

One thing more.

No more meetings
here at the garage.

We got anything to talk about,

we meet at your
apartment, Charlie.

You call the shots, Gus.

Take the back way out.

We might as well start
being careful right now.

Who's that kid over there?

I don't know.

Well, get rid of him.

I don't want nobody poking
their noses around here.

You lose something?

I was looking for Mr. Marco.

Well, you won't
find him in there.

What do you want?

A job.

You're too young to hack.

I thought maybe a
job doing little things

in the garage, like sweeping up

or polishing down the taxis.

We got all the men we need.

I thought maybe because...

'cause my father
used to work here,

Mr. Marco might
have a job for me.

Who's your father?

Mario Busso.

Mario... Oh...

Listen, I'm sorry
about what happened.

I tell you what.

I get a chance, I'll tell
Mr. Marco you were here, huh?

Thanks.

Hold it!

I couldn't help hearing.

So you're Mario's kid!

He talked about
you all the time,

you and your kid sister.

He wanted you to go to college.

Had it all figured out.

Yeah.

He was the greatest.

Do anything you asked him.

They didn't come no better.

I'm sorry, kid.

I know how you feel.

Do you? Sure.

No, you don't, Mr. Marco.

You don't know what it's
like not to sleep at night

knowing they killed him

because he was trying
to help me and my sister.

If I was old enough,
I'd drive his hack,

drive it... right into
that cop who killed him!

Now look, son,
what's done is done.

I'll tell you what I'll do.

I'll give you something
to take your mind off it.

How about a job
washing down the cabs?

We could use the money.

$20 a week.

In advance, starting now.

Here. See that cab over there?

Get busy and wash it down.

Thanks, Mr. Marco.

Go on, kid.

Poor kid.

Now listen... now
listen carefully.

I'll tell you what I
want you to do...

Remember, keep your eyes open.

I gotta go out of
town for a few days,

to see a friend of
mine in Canada.

The Alky?

Oh, Mike... you ask
too many questions.

And now, back to
The Untouchables.

As well as the alcohol,

the raid in the government
warehouse resulted

in the capture of one three-ton

and one five-ton truck.

Find out anything?

Well, the boy went
to this taxi garage

where his father worked
before he joined the alky mob.

Looks like he got a job
swabbing down taxis.

Who owns the garage?

Fellow named Marco. Gus Marco.

Any record on him?

I checked him out and
he's clean as a whistle.

He's been running the
garage for the past 15 years.

He looks respectable,
but, uh... But what?

He has a manager
named Marconi; a cousin.

Now, there's a
boy with a record.

Armed robbery, 1923:
assault and battery.

Armed robbery,
1927: armed robbery,

and 1928: armed robbery.

And then it stops.

For five years, no record.

Maybe he's gone straight.

When did he start
working for this Marco?

Five years ago.

And Mr. Marconi is
suddenly rehabilitated.

Yeah, it looks that way.

On paper it does.

Come in.

Mr. Ness?

Hello, Dr. Anders.
What brings you here?

It's about that Busso
shooting two nights ago.

What about it?

Well, as you know, there
were four .38 shots found in him.

Now, Mr. Ness, I haven't been
with the coroner's office very long.

I don't know how much I
can trust my own observations,

especially considering
the severity of the wound.

But, by his right temple,
hidden by his hair,

there were a few little markings

that I thought looked
like powder burns.

Powder burns?

That's impossible.

We were 50 feet away
when we shot him.

I know. That's what
it says in your report...

but I'm fairly sure
they're powder burns.

Doctor, have you still got
those four .38 caliber slugs

you dug out of him?

Yes.

Will you get them to me?

I'd like a ballistics
report on each one.

A ballistics report
on your own guns?

That's right, Doctor.

I'll get them right away.

Thank you.

Eliot Ness called
together the Untouchables,

all of whom had been present

the night Mario
Busso was killed.

He asked them to bring
their .38s with them.

The bullets were recovered
from the ballistics box,

labeled and taken to
the police laboratory.

Well, comparing these
ballistics reports, Mr. Ness,

there's no doubt that only
three of the four bullets found

in Mario Busso
came from your guns.

This one didn't.

Where'd that one come from?

I don't know.

But I do know it didn't
come from any of your guns.

Those powder burns
Dr. Anders mentioned

are beginning to
make some sense now.

We were shooting a
dead man that night.

What do you mean?

This bullet and the
powder burns go together.

Mario Busso's friend
shot him before we did,

before he escaped.

But why?

I don't know why.

But if we can locate the
gun this bullet was fired from,

we might not only find out
why, we might find out who.

Thank you. Yes, sir.

Who is it?

Federal officers. We
want to talk to you.

What about?

Mario Busso.

Open up!

Hold it!

This may be the gun
we've been looking for.

Shall I check it
out with ballistics?

Right away.

Well, we caught the little fish.

Where do we find the big one?

The ballistics report
identified Marconi's gun

as the one that had
killed Mario Busso.

Marconi's death temporarily
thwarted Eliot Ness' attempts

to track down the leader
of the bootlegging ring.

So, on the following afternoon,

he decided to concentrate
on his long shot... Nicky Busso.

The boy just got
home from school.

He should be going to work
at the garage any time now.

Let's go upstairs.

Come in.

Miss Busso?

Miss Busso, we were
looking for your brother.

He just went out.

We didn't see him leave.

Well, he left.

Where's your mother?

Out.

Will she be back soon?

I don't know.

And if I did know,
I wouldn't tell you.

d d

Let's go.

Hand over the knife.

What knife? I got no knife.

That's right, search me.

We ought to slap some
sense into you, kid.

All right, you satisfied?
Now leave me alone.

Look, boy, I want to set
you straight about one thing:

Our guns didn't
kill your father.

We've got the one that did,

and it belonged to your
friend, Mike Marconi.

What kind of a sucker
do you think I am?

You killed my father... you.

And now you want
to pass the buck.

Listen, we think the man
your father was working for

is running a bootlegging ring.

Can you tell us his name?

Tell you?

I'll tell you nothing.

And if you got a
guilty conscience,

then you go to a priest.

Don't come to me, because
I'll let you eat your heart out

before I let you
forget what you did.

Gentlemen.

What can I do?

Who are you?

Gus Marco's the name.

I own this place.

Been on this same
corner for 15 years.

Federal agents.

Oh? The boy do anything wrong?

A few things.

We were questioning
him about Mike Marconi.

Ah, Marconi, huh?

I heard about the
shooting last night.

Too bad.

He worked for you, didn't he?

My cousin.

I gave him the job.

Oh, I knew he had a record.

I knew I should
not have done it,

but he gave me the family pitch.

You backed a couple
of losers, didn't you?

What do you mean?

Just what I said, Mr. Marco.

Mario Busso worked
for you and he got it.

Mike Marconi worked
for you, and he got it.

I wonder why.

Coincidence?

Could happen to anyone.

But I tell you one thing:

The next person I hire,

he better have a clean blotter

or he don't work for Gus Marco.

That's right, Mr. Marco.

If I were you, I'd
be more careful

about the kind
of people I hired.

Come here, kid.

You know this guy Ness?

Yeah.

That's the one
who killed my father.

Suspecting that Gus Marco
was the man they were looking for,

Eliot Ness decided to
put the pressure on him.

They hounded him day and night.

No matter where he went,

Eliot Ness and his men
were there to question him.

In a week's time, they
had Marco sweating hard.

The Canadian alky source
had delivered the shipment

to a midtown warehouse
two days before,

and were pressing him to
take the stuff off their hands

or lose it to another buyer.

In addition, the syndicate,

watching him and
waiting for results,

hadn't helped his nerves any.

He was in a bind,
and his well-laid plans

were beginning to
show signs of cracking.

You can take my
word for it, Louie,

it hasn't been easy.

I see that.

But it's no good you
fall apart, Gussie.

Excuse me... Gus.

That does not
answer my question.

I don't know what to tell you.

Oh, not me, Gus...
The big fellas.

They ask me, so I ask you.

I'm no magician.

All that noise, Gus...

Maybe you put it where
it does some good, huh?

I didn't ask Ness
to sit on my back.

No? Then who showed
him to your garage?

Me? Your cousin?

Oh, no, Gus.

You can't blame him now.

He's dead.

Who you got to blame, huh?

It's not like I didn't
take care of everything.

Some people, they just
don't have the green thumb.

They do everything
for the garden...

It just won't grow.

It's like that.

The minute I get Ness off
my back, I'll make the deal.

Okay, Gus.

Take your time.

Just get that
whiskey for us... soon.

What do you want me to do?

I take a chance, it's no good.

I stall, you keep picking on me.

Okay, Gus, I stop
picking on you.

You just handle
things your own way.

Much better than a taxi cab.

Quiet.

Burning the midnight
oil, aren't you, Eliot?

Just finishing up today's
dope on Mr. Marco.

Anything new?

No, more of the same.

Spent the day in the garage,
had dinner at Augie's Steak House.

Who's putting him to bed?

Lee.

Do you think if we keep
squeezing, he'll make a slip?

Eventually, he's got to.

Hi, Lee.

You look beat.

I am.

Chicago's a big city,

especially when you're chasing
a horse and buggy around a park.

Gus Marco?

Yeah, with Louie Latitto.

Latitto?

That sounds like a
marriage that won't last.

Maybe all that pressure's
beginning to pay off, Eliot.

Well, they didn't seem
very happy with each other.

I think I know why.

Gus Marco must be a liquor
source for the syndicate.

They want liquor,
he can't deliver

because we're sitting on him.

Do you want us to stay with him?

No...

No, I want him to
make that delivery.

Let's loosen up for 24
hours, give him some rope...

then ease back in and
wait for him to hang himself.

I can't take a chance, Charlie,

Not with Ness everywhere I look.

That Ness...

He's riding you
pretty hard, huh?

Too hard.

So it's off again.

On-again, off-again Gussie.

Hey, Mamie.

What is it, honey?

You'd better get lost.

Come on. Come on.

Still got that date tonight?

Yeah, I just
heard. I'll be free.

Call me later. All right.

You know something, Gussie?

That Ness...

He's been riding me and
the boys pretty hard, too.

Holed up here, no place to go.

How long you think we're
gonna have to hang around?

Until it's right...
That's how long.

Could be another week, two, huh?

Maybe more.

Okay, Gussie...

that puts a change on things.

What do you mean
"puts a change on things"?

You heard me, Gus.

You ain't hard of hearing, too.

I mean the deal we made
for an extra ten percent.

That was without waiting.

You too, huh?

How's that my fault?

I don't know, Gussie.

All I know is it's
gonna cost you more

for every day we have
to hang around here.

How much more?

Say another ten percent.

You're crazy.

That's right, Gus...

Stir crazy... Hanging
around here, waiting.

I can't afford it, Charlie.

No? How much you
figure your life is worth?

Here, write it down.

Okay, I'll write it for you.

Nothing. That's
how much it's worth.

Now look, Gussie,

what's a few extra points
compared to having a friend?

How much?

For tonight...
Another ten percent.

And tomorrow?

Ten percent down the line.

Until there's
nothing for my end.

Then do it tonight
and save the money.

I can't, I can't, with
Ness on my back.

So, get rid of him.

Ness?

What's the matter,
he made of air?

The quicker you kill Ness,
the more money you save.

How we gonna do that?

Like I told you,
Gussie, I'm your friend.

Get this Busso
kid to set him up.

He thinks Ness
killed his old man.

So he calls Ness

and has him come where
we can take care of him.

Only cost you
another ten percent.

For that, I kill him myself.

Okay.

I'll set a meeting
with the kid for tonight.

You got a date all
right, but it's with me.

He said his mother and
sister leave for church at 7:30.

That makes it easier.

How're you gonna get
this alky into your garage?

Nothing to it.

In gasoline trucks.

I switch the valves
on the fuel pumps.

I like that.

You pump the alcohol
out of the gasoline truck,

through the garage floor,
right downstairs into the still.

That's pretty smart, Gus.

Over a half a million
for a night's work.

Less percentages,
of course... not bad.

There they go. Come on.

Who is it?

It's me. Gus.

Hi, Mr. Marco.

Hello, boy.

Who's he?

He's a friend.

His name is Charlie.

Hi.

Well, Nicky...

tonight you're gonna get
your chance to get even.

What do you mean?

That fed who killed your father,

we're gonna get him tonight,

and we need you to set him up.

Tonight?

What's the rush?

The rush is, in a few hours,

thousands of gallons of
alcohol is coming into my garage,

and this fed has
been on my back.

I can't take any more
chances with him.

You mean the garage is a front?

That's right.
Everything's underground.

I'll explain you the
whole setup later.

Then my father
was working for you.

That's right, and he'd
still be working for me,

if it wasn't for that Ness.

He said that Mike
Marconi killed my father.

He's a liar!

He killed him, and
you and I know it.

So what are we talking about?

Are you with us or
not? Make up your mind.

Everything's happening so quick.

I didn't expect...

Oh, so you were
only talking, huh?

A tough guy with your
mouth, is that what you are?

Well, forget it,
we do it ourselves.

Wait a while.

I didn't say I
wasn't going to do it,

I just said, that...
Say yes or no.

Well?

Yeah.

Come on, boy.

Hello. Ness speaking.

This is Nicky.

Nicky.

Look, I'm not doing
this because I like you,

but I gotta see you.

It's important.

What's it about?

It's about that man you want...

The one my father
was working for.

I think I know who it is.

I can't talk here,

but I'll be up in the
house waiting for you.

What's up, Eliot?

I don't know yet.

But we'll soon find out.

Lee, get your car, will you?

Hey, kid...

where's that door go?

It leads to the basement.

Gus? Hmm?

I'd like to ask you
about my father.

He was a great guy, kid.

The greatest, believe me.

I know.

That's why we got
to do this... for him.

Those lousy cops, they
didn't even give him a chance.

They shot him even before
he got his gun out of his pocket.

His gun?

My father would
never carry a gun.

Never.

I know.

What I meant was, uh...

I gave him one of my
guns, just for protection.

Your gun?

But nobody found
a gun on my father.

Is there any way to cross over
to another building from the roof?

It's a big jump.

Let's take a look,
just in case. Come on.

You wait here.

Relax, kid.

We can make it if
we have to, Charlie.

Sure.

I'm not forgetting what a
pal you've been, Charlie.

Maybe we can join
up... The two of us.

Hey, not a bad idea...

So long, Gussie.

N-No, Charlie, no.

A-Anything you want.

Any part of the deal,
but don't chop me.

It's all yours.

Not enough, Gussie.

I got it all now.

Regards from Louie.

Nothing personal, Gussie.

Where's Mr. Marco?

He's up there...

Keeping his eyes
open... Wide open.

I've got to ask him
something... Stay here.

What did you do to him?

The same thing I'll do to
you unless you shut your trap.

I don't want any
part of this setup...

You ought to be glad Gussie
got what he gave your old man.

Take the basement door.

Pull up over there.

It's awfully quiet.

Yeah.

You know what to do.

Cover me.

Stay with Eliot.

I'll get this.

d d

Look out!

Hold it.

Nicky...

what I told you about
your father was true.

I know.

Look at me...
crying like a baby.

Some big shot, huh?

20 bucks a week he
was gonna pay me

to work in his phony garage.

Come on, you can tell me
about that phony garage

while I telephone
for an ambulance.

Nicky's tribute to his father

was to reveal what
Ness wanted to know

about the secret workings
of the Marco setup.

Later that night, Eliot Ness
and his men confiscated

the thousands of
gallons of alcohol

that were delivered
to Gus Marco's garage

and destroyed the
underground distillery.

For the record: Nicholas
Busso graduated

from the Carnegie Institute
of Technology in 1938.

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