All language subtitles for The Untouchables - S02E24 (Ring of Terror)_000

Morphine?

So much morphine

he was in no condition
to defend himself.

Are you accusing me of
doping my own fighter?

Does that surprise you, Jarreau?

You were in his corner.

You must have known about it.

What are you trying to say?

I'll tell you what
I'm trying to say.

I'm trying to say your trainer

fed McGrath morphine so you
could make a few lousy bucks.

When the kid died, you
had the trainer rubbed out

so he couldn't talk.

Tonight's episode...

Starring Robert
Stack as Eliot Ness.

Co-starring Harold J. Stone,

John Crawford
and Richard Karlan.

With special guest
star Viveca Lindfors.

And narrated by Walter Winchell.

The Chicago Sports
Arena in July 1931

was like a half hundred

other boxing rings
throughout America.

A place where tough young
animals from reform schools

and rotting
tenements were willing

to sacrifice their
blood for a chance

to lick the twin phantoms
of poverty and obscurity.

It hardly mattered
that, in the process,

the Marquis of Queensbury
got only lip service

and that the men
who got the big payoffs

fought with machine
guns instead of gloves.

In the ring, Joey McGrath,
a young man on the way up,

23 knockouts in 25 fights,

a picture fighter
with all the moves,

a boy that the sports
writers have tabbed

as the next light heavyweight
champion of the world,

but tonight, Joey
McGrath is on his way out.

What's the matter with you?

I'll be all right.

I just had a couple...
couple of bad rounds.

Bad rounds?

You've been a sitting
duck ever since the fifth.

What are you trying to
do, get yourself killed?

Leave me alone.

I'm doing the best I can.

Are you?

I've been around
a long time, Joey.

I can smell a fix a mile away.

A fix?

Yeah, that bum's
been carrying you

for three rounds.

You're a liar. Am I?

Then get out there and prove it.

Stop it! Stop It!

After 17 seconds,

in round number nine,
the winner by knockout:

Rocky Pierson!

All right, let us
through, please.

Blinky? Shut up.

But what if he...? I mean...

Shut up, I tell you.

Ah, the kid's tough.

You couldn't kill
him with an axe.

Come on, let's get out of here.

Hey, how is he?

He ain't good.

I'll call the boss.

Come on, Joey.

Speak to me, Joey.

I... I'm sorry. I... Sorry.

Come on now, what about
this rumor that it's fixed?

Hello, Barney.

How's, uh... how's the boy?

You got to him,
Acropolis, didn't you?

You finally got to
one of my fighters.

Now, what are you talking about?

Did he have to go nine rounds

for you bloodsuckers
to get your money out?

Your boy ran out of gas, Barney.

Don't come crying to me

if your fighters can't
pace themselves.

You fixed it all the way.

You listen to me, Jarreau,

and you listen good.

You've got a big imagination,

and an even bigger mouth,

and people with big mouths

have been known to get hurt.

McGrath is dead.

All right, so he's dead.

It happens.

Does it?

Somebody pays him
not to defend himself,

then they tell
Pierson to hit him

with everything he's got.

Is that an accident in
your book, Acropolis,

or is it murder?

The boss says to stick around.

Says he wants a report.

You can give it to him now.

McGrath is dead,

and Jarreau is screaming fix.

Everybody's gone, Mr. Jarreau.

They're turning out the lights.

Go home, Monk.

It's not your
fault, Mr. Jarreau.

It's the chance a guy takes.

d d

What's the matter with you?

You've been a sitting
duck ever since the fifth.

What are you trying to
do, get yourself killed?

McGRATH: I'm
doing the best I can.

I gave you a message
tonight, Barney,

but I got the feeling
you weren't listening,

so I'm giving it to you again.

This is official,
right from the top.

McGrath's death was accidental.

You're a liar.

He got killed
because he fell apart

when he started to
take some punishment.

I hope you do shoot
off your mouth, Jarreau.

Then they'll let
me fix you for good.

The morning papers
carried reports of the autopsy

demanded by the State
Athletic Commission

and carried out by
the coroner's office.

To those who had
been present at the fight,

the tragedy presented
a unique opportunity

for armchair analysis.

I tell you, I knew
the guy was dead

the moment the punch landed

You could hear it
all over the stadium.

I never saw such a fight.

They was the two hardest
punches I ever seen.

Excuse me.

Yeah, what is it?

I was told I might
find Mr. Ness here.

Over there. Thank you.

"and the death of Joey McGrath

"is one more black mark
against a sport riddled

"with corruption and controlled

by criminal elements."

The fight game
is like the weather.

Everybody talks about it,

but nobody ever does anything.

Don't you think
it's time someone

did do something
about it, Mr. Ness?

This is Mr. Ness.

Oh... my name is Peabody.

Won't you sit down, Mr. Peabody?

Thank you.

I came, uh, about this.

Mr. Peabody, before we
waste any of your time,

perhaps I'd better
explain that fights

come under the control of
the State Athletic Commission.

Federal officers
have no jurisdiction.

You have jurisdiction
over narcotics, don't you?

Narcotics?

I work in the
coroner's lab, Mr. Ness.

First thing we do when
a body is brought in,

if the cause of
death was unnatural,

is to take a blood sample.

Yes?

Somebody took a
sample of McGrath's blood

when the body was
brought in last night.

I ran a test on it this
morning when I came to work.

Mr. Ness, McGrath's body
was loaded with morphine.

You're sure?

Here's a copy of the analysis.

Morphine is not a stimulant.

It's a depressant.

Why would McGrath take a drug

that would slow
down his reflexes

in an important fight like this?

That's a very interesting
question, Mr. Peabody.

And why didn't the results
of my blood analysis show up

on the autopsy report?

Didn't they? No.

Under blood analysis, it
said, "Blood content normal."

Thanks, Mr. Peabody.

We'll look into it.

May I keep this?

Certainly.

It was the morphine
that beat him, you know?

He was a splendid fighter.

Splendid.

Lee, finish your coffee.

We're going for a ride.

Where to?

County Coroner's Office.

It ought to be very
interesting to hear

why one of the county
medical examiners

considers morphine
a normal ingredient

of the human bloodstream.

Eliot Ness had gone directly

to the office of
the county coroner,

whose records revealed
that a Dr. William A. Voyt,

one of several medical examiners

on the coroner's staff,
had been assigned

to perform the autopsy on
the body of Joey McGrath.

Did you personally certify

McGrath's death was due
to a cerebral hemorrhage?

Yes.

No contributory factors?

Well, there was some talk

of his being
overcome by the heat,

but that's something

that wouldn't show up
on postmortem analysis.

I'm talking about something

that would show up
on postmortem analysis.

Such as what?

Such as a considerable
quantity of morphine

in the fighter's bloodstream.

I can subpoena the
lab reports, Doctor.

Well, Mr. Ness, I'm sure,
they'll be no necessity

for anything as
drastic as a subpoena.

If a mistake has been
made... Mistake?!

What else could it be?

I'll check it out and
call you immediately.

Thank you.

He's scared to death.

He's got a right to be.

Falsifying an autopsy
report is a criminal offense.

Lay it all off.

Gallant Fox is a shoe-in.

Yeah, the seventh's okay.

Here are the
results from Caliente.

We win a packet on Amerok.

Let's have it.

The rest is still coming in.

Take it over there.

Hello?

Acropolis?

Yeah. Who's this?

It-It's Voyt.

I told you not to call me here
unless it was an emergency.

Eliot Ness just left here.

What?!

He-He found out
about the morphine.

What'd you tell him?

What could I tell him?

I said if a mistake
had been made,

I'd see that it
would be rectified.

I told you this was too risky.

Get a hold of yourself.

But what if Ness starts digging?

I'll fix it so he doesn't
find out anything.

And Voyt, don't lose
control of your tongue.

Remember,

you've already got
one foot in the morgue.

Who was that?

Oh, that was the fellow who,
uh, did the autopsy on McGrath.

And?

Eliot Ness just left his office.

Ness?

He found out about the morphine.

Rudy, I thought I had
the whole thing fixed.

Look, I got the autopsy report.

You can see for
yourself... it's clean!

Did you get to anyone else?

I didn't have time!

You didn't have time.

You got to one miserable
little medical examiner,

and you expected
the fix to stay in, hmm?

But Rudy, I couldn't fix
the whole coroner's staff.

Then McGrath's body should never

have reached the morgue!

Do you know the
trouble we went to

to make an unsuspecting
patsy out of Barney Jarreau?

Do you know how long it took

before we got
Herbie in a position

to dope one of
Jarreau's fighters?!

And do you know what
it was all leading up to?

The championship.

That's right, Mr. Acropolis,
the championship.

And the biggest payoff

in the history of
the fight racket.

Rudy, how did I know

the kid was gonna
get himself killed?

Forget the kid.

I couldn't care less.

All I care about is the fact

that I'm covering $17 million
on another of Jarreau's fighters.

The fight goes in six weeks,

and thanks to you,
I've no longer got a fix.

What do you want me to do?

First of all, get rid
of Herbie Snow.

He's the only one who
can tie us to the morphine.

What about Jarreau?

I'll handle Jarreau.

Not the way I wanted
to, but I'll handle him.

Okay.

I'll go see Herbie.

You do that.

And Acropolis?

Yeah?

Try not to get caught with
a gun in your hand, hmm?

Morphine in this amount
would take effect very quickly.

A matter of minutes.

So they gave it to
him during the fight?

Absolutely.

Probably a little at a time

so that the effect
would be cumulative.

It would just look as if
he were getting tired.

That eliminates a needle.

They couldn't very
well give him a hypo

in front of 11,000 people.

Seems much more
likely he got it orally.

What about the taste?

Well, morphine has
a slightly bitter taste,

but it could be disguised
in almost anything.

Thank you.

Any time, Mr. Ness.

d d

Could I have the number

of the State Athletic
Commission?

Don't start an
investigation, Barney.

That's right.

They'll kill you.

If they could afford to kill me,

they would have
done it last night.

But you have no proof
that they bribed McGrath.

You said so yourself.

You just think that
he threw the fight.

Maybe the commission
can prove it. Thank you.

And if they can't, then what?

I can't let 'em get away
with it! Don't you understand?

Once these vultures
get their dirty claws

into one of your
fighters, they don't quit

until they got 'em all.

You don't understand.

I couldn't bear if
something happened to you.

I'll get it.

Hello, Mrs. Jarreau.

What do you want?

I'd like to talk
to your husband.

Why?

Just tell him I'm here.

He is not at home.

Tell him.

This is my husband.

This is Mr. Krasna.

Yeah?

I'd like to talk to
you, Mr. Jarreau.

What about?

Your wife seems
surprised to see me.

You know him?

I used to work for Mr. Krasna.

He ran a string of dance halls.

She was... very popular.

What is this, some
kind of a shakedown?

Easy, Mr. Jarreau.

You're jumping to conclusions.

If you've got something
to say, spit it out!

All right.

You've got a fighter
named Tommy Troy.

He fights at the
Garden in six weeks

for the world championship.

So what about it?

So, he's gonna
lose, Mr. Jarreau.

Who says so? I do.

Get out!

Did you know your wife's
in this country illegally?

You're out of your mind! Am I?

Right after she quit
her job at the dance hall,

two immigration men
came around looking for her.

If they ever find her,
she'll be deported.

If this was on
the level, you'd...

you'd have been around years ago

when I had my first contender.

Well, you underestimate
me, Jarreau.

Why should I try to squeeze you

when you were so much
more valuable to me

playing it straight?

Why don't you cut
out the double-talk?

Everybody knows
you're on the level.

You're the Sir Galahad
of the fight racket.

Rather than destroy
such a lily white reputation,

we decided to use it.

What do you mean by that?

Let's take a look
at some of the fights

your boys lost in
the last two years.

There was, uh, Sailor Cowan.

Eight to five.

Ran out of gas in the seventh.

August 14, Rocky
Gold... Three to one.

Overcome by the heat.

September 9, Petey James.

Uh, shall I go on?

None of those boys
would throw a fight.

That's right, Jarreau.

None of your boys
ever threw a fight...

including McGrath.

If anybody should
ask you any questions,

his death was
strictly an accident.

I'll be in touch, Jarreau,

about the championship.

I'm sorry.

I should have told you before.

There's a lot of other things

you should have told me about,

aren't there, Mrs. Jarreau?

Yes, yes.

Like where are your
naturalization papers,

Mrs. Jarreau?

What happened to
all the cups you won

in the popularity
contests, Mrs. Jarreau?

I was afraid.

I was afraid to lose you.

"Don't call the
commission, Barney.

"If they should start
an investigation,

they might kill you."

Was it me you
were worried about,

or was it yourself?

I love you, Barney.

Sure you do, as long

as you can stay in this country.

I'm through playing patsy

for you and everybody
else in this town.

From now on, lady,
you're on your own!

And now back to
The Untouchables.

By 6:00 p.m.

on the day following the
McGrath-Pierson fight,

the Illinois State
Athletic Commission,

alerted by a phone
call from Eliot Ness,

had ordered a
full-scale investigation

into the circumstances

surrounding Joey
McGrath's death.

Ness and the Untouchables,

having subpoenaed the
newsreel films of the fight,

were searching for some clue

to the men who
had arranged the fix.

Okay, here it comes.

Now watch the trainer.

That's the first time

he's given him a
drink from that bottle.

It's a light ammonia solution

used to settle the
fighter's stomachs.

But from here on in,

he gives it to the kid
before every round.

Okay, Rico.

What have you got on him, Jack?

Name's Herbie Snow.

He's been around a long time.

Jarreau picked him
up a couple years ago

after his own trainer left.

There's talk he's a junkie.

Where does he live?

Green Briar Hotel.

It's only a couple
blocks from the gym.

Come on, Lee,
let's pay him a visit.

Mungo the fireballer,
into his windup.

There's a fastball
on the outside.

Billy Hermann leans into it.

It's a base hit; it's
going out into right field...

Herbie Snow.

He's rounding first and
heading for second...

Hey, what are you doing?

Herbie Snow. What room?

Two-fourteen. Is he in?

Five minutes ago,
but he's got company.

The guy's been
waiting for him all day.

Strike one, right
down the middle.

Snow?

Mrs. Jarreau?

Yes.

We're federal officers.

What do you want?

We'd like to ask your
husband a few questions.

He would be glad
to talk to you...

only, he isn't here.

Where is he?

He isn't here.

My husband isn't here.

I don't know if he'll
ever come back.

I don't think so.

Do you know where
we can find him?

No.

And you don't expect him back?

No, I don't... expect him back.

All right, Mrs. Jarreau.

Thank you.

Hello?

It's Hymie, Mr. Krasna. Yeah.

I think Jarreau and his
wife have had a bust-up.

What do you mean?

Well, a few minutes
after you left,

he came out of the apartment
like the place was on fire.

I tailed him over to a cheap
hotel on Harrison Street.

Is he still there?

No. He just stayed long
enough to rent a room,

and came over to the gym.

Stay with him.

Come in.

It's done... but it
was awful close.

What's that supposed to mean?

Ness! He missed us by inches!

He moves too fast,
this Ness, too fast.

He'll be going
after Jarreau next.

I thought you were going
to take care of Jarreau?

I did, but it's his wife
I'm worried about now.

You'd better get
over there right now.

You tell her I said to
keep her mouth shut,

and make sure she understands.

I'll spell it out.

Jarreau's office?

Come in.

Federal officers, Mr. Jarreau.

My name's Ness.

Well, what do you want?

Your fighter died in the
ring last night, Mr. Jarreau.

You come all the way
down here to tell me that?

Before he died, he
took a terrible beating.

Why didn't you stop it?

You can't stop a fight
because a fighter is losing.

It means an investigation.

People will think
the fight is fixed.

If it wasn't fixed, how do
you account for the fact

McGrath's body
was full of morphine?

Morphine?

So much morphine

he was in no condition
to defend himself.

You were in his corner, Jarreau.

You must have known about it.

Are you accusing me of
doping my own fighter?!

If you didn't, who did?

How should I know?

Could it have been Herbie Snow?

Why don't you ask him?

I can't. Herbie Snow is dead.

Dead?

Does that surprise you, Jarreau?

What are you trying to say?

I'll tell you what
I'm trying to say.

I'm trying to say your
trainer fed McGrath morphine

so you could make
a few lousy bucks.

And when the kid died, you
had the trainer rubbed out

so he couldn't talk.

There'll be an official inquiry

into the death of
McGrath, Jarreau.

You'll be subpoenaed.

He's got quite a wallop.

Yeah, I asked for it.

That's a tough
way to get evidence.

He's a tough man.

Did he act scared to you?

No. No, he acts like a man

who's mad at the whole world.

That's what I got.

Somebody must be putting
a squeeze on Mr. Jarreau.

Yeah, but how?

Maybe we missed a beat.

How far back?

One step. Mrs. Jarreau?

She's in no condition
to answer questions.

Let's bring her some coffee.

Mrs. Jarreau?

Maybe she went out.

Maybe she did.

Johnny Acropolis.

The murder of Johnny Acropolis,

well-known member of the
underworld, coming as it did

within hours of the death
of the trainer Herbie Snow

rocked Chicago...
but for Eliot Ness,

the discovery of Acropolis' body

and the disappearance
of Mrs. Jarreau,

was an untimely complication.

The hearing into the
McGrath-Pierson fight

had been set for 10:00
a.m. Monday morning,

less than 24 hours away.

Though Ness and his men
had worked through the night,

they had, as yet, no
evidence to connect Acropolis

or anyone else, to the morphine,

which had been
administered to McGrath.

Thanks, Smitty.

What did we get from
the coroner's office

on the phony autopsy report?

Clerical error.

The medical
examiner's very sorry,

but after all, they do
a volume business,

mistakes are bound to happen.

Smitty just called from the lab.

What'd we get?

Just about what we expected.

The gun is
registered to Jarreau,

and his wife's
fingerprints are all over it.

Anything on her whereabouts yet?

Nothing. If we find
her before the hearing,

it'll be a miracle.

Maybe we won't need her.

You lost me.

We figured Jarreau wouldn't talk

because somebody was
getting to him through his wife.

Now if that somebody
was Acropolis,

we just might have
a friendly witness.

And if it wasn't Acropolis?

Try not to think about that.

Hello, Ness.

This is Smitty again, Mr. Ness.

I've got something else.

Go ahead, Smitty, shoot.

We picked up a set of
prints in Jarreau's apartment.

They've got quite a background.

27 arrests, including two
on suspicion of murder,

one on grand
larceny... no convictions.

What's his name?

Uh, Rudolph Krasna.

Do you want me to
send over the file?

Right away, Smitty. Thanks.

They just found
Rudolph Krasna's prints

in Jarreau's apartment.

Krasna? The boss of
the numbers racket?

He used to be; maybe
he's branched out.

Let's have another
talk with Mr. Jarreau.

Well, what do you know?

We got lucky.

She's killed him, and
she's disappeared.

Yeah, but suppose the
feds tie us to Acropolis.

Well, suppose they do?

Am I responsible for the
women he gets involved with?

Yeah?

Any trouble?

He's not the type.

Sit down, Doctor. Make
yourself comfortable.

What do you want, Mr. Krasna?

Why did you bring me here?

You're going to testify
at the hearing Monday.

I already told you, I
won't say anything.

Well, you're going to have
to say something, Doctor.

Now I'm going to
tell you what it is.

Look, I was up all night
talking to the police.

I don't know anything
You knew Acropolis.

All right, I knew Acropolis.

Everybody in the
fight game knew him.

What does that prove?

You never had any
dealings with him?

No.

Then what was he
doing talking to your wife?

Nobody can prove my wife was

anywhere near the apartment

when Acropolis was killed.

You're wrong, Jarreau.

The gun that killed him
was registered to you,

but your wife's
fingerprints are all over it.

If I knew he was
bothering my wife,

I would have killed him myself.

What about Rudolph Krasna?

Who's Krasna?

Never heard of him, huh?

Then how do you
account for the fact,

his fingerprints were
found in your apartment?

I still don't know him.

You realize that you're implying

that you had no
dealing with Acropolis...

you don't know
Krasna, yet both of them

were in your
apartment with your wife

without your knowledge.

Is that the story you want
the newspapers to get?

Now then, let's
go a round again.

Did you know Krasna?

He came to my apartment
yesterday afternoon.

What for?

He wanted me to throw
the championship fight

at the Gardens in September.

He ever try anything
like this before?

No.

What gave him the idea
you could be bribed this time?

I've got nothing more to say.

Will you say what you
just said at the hearing?

No.

Why not?

I've got my reasons.

Those reasons have
something to do with your wife,

don't they, Jarreau?

What have they got
on your wife, Jarreau?

Nothing.

All right, get your coat.

What for?

You're under arrest.

What are the charges?

Striking a federal officer.

But that was yesterday.

It took me 24 hours to get mad.

Now move!

The most recent development
in this sensational case

was the arrest early this
afternoon of Barney Jarreau,

manager of the dead fighter
and owner of the apartment

in which the body of the
slain gangster was found.

No official charge has yet
been lodged against Jarreau,

but it is expected
that he will be charged

with the murder
of John Acropolis.

If so, it would be the
end of a brilliant career

for one of boxing's most
successful managers.

Jarreau was, himself,
a better than average

light heavyweight in the
days when Jack Dempsey

took the championship
from Jess Willard.

And, at the moment,
has the leading challenger

for the heavyweight
championship of the world

in 28-year-old Tommy Troy.

At Monday's hearing, then,

the testimony of Barney
Jarreau may decide

not only his own future,

but that of the entire
world of boxing.

Do you think it'll work?

If she hears it, if
she cares at all,

if she's sober
enough to understand.

That's an awful lot of "ifs."

Eliot, you can't do this.

Now, wait a minute, Beecher,

the charge against
Jarreau is legitimate.

I read the charge:
striking a federal officer.

But by not releasing
it to the press,

you've deliberately made
it appear that Jarreau

is being held for the
murder of Acropolis.

That's right.

But he's not guilty
and you know it.

He can sue us for false
arrest, for defamation

of character and
heaven knows what else.

Beecher, listen
to me for a minute.

I'm convinced Mrs. Jarreau's
the key to this whole thing.

We can't find her.

But maybe if she hears
her husband's charged

with a murder she
committed, she'll turn herself in.

And if she doesn't?

What have you got then?

I've got this much:
Jarreau's an honest man.

Every time he lies to
me it tears him apart.

I'm banking on the fact

that when they put him
under oath, he'll tell the truth.

If you're wrong, they'll
hang us both out to dry.

You know that, don't you?

I know it.

Why don't you get
some sleep, Eliot?

Ness speaking.

Can I talk to you?

This is, um, Mrs.
Jarreau speaking.

Fred, trace the call
on extension five.

Go ahead, I'm listening.

My husband did not do it.

It was his gun, Mrs. Jarreau.

I know it was his gun.

But I'm the one that used it.

Why'd you kill Acropolis?

He beat me.

That's why.

He threatened to kill me.

Go on.

I... I picked up the
gun in the desk,

and I shot him.

If you shot him in self defense,
that's justifiable homicide.

Why not give yourself up?

Why'd Acropolis come to see you?

Mrs. Jarreau, your
husband's making himself

an accessory to murder
because he's trying to protect you.

I'm going to hang
up now, Mr. Ness.

Wait a minute, listen to me.

Joey McGrath's death
wasn't an accident.

He was doped in the ring
so he couldn't protect himself.

Unless your husband testifies

at that hearing tomorrow,
he's going to be labeled

a murderer by every
newspaper in the country.

You're the only one
who can save him...

Mrs. Jarreau?

Mrs. Jarreau?

No, that's all.

Thanks, Fred.

Well, all we got left
is Barney Jarreau.

Let's hope it's enough.

Look, like I was telling you.

I says to Rocky, I
mean Mr. Pierson.

I says, "Look, kid,
the way I see it,

"McGrath took
the first five rounds,

"the sixth is a draw.

"If you want to win this fight,

you're going to have
to knock him out,"

and that's what he did.

I mean, I'm sorry
about the kid dying,

but it wasn't Rocky's fault.

Mr. Rodriguez,

didn't it occur to you that
there was anything wrong

with Joey McGrath
after the fifth round?

No. I just figured
he ran out of gas.

It happens all the time.

Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez.

You may be excused.

Rocky Pierson.

Uh, yes, sir.

Raise your right hand.

Do you swear that the
testimony you're about to give

will be the truth,
the whole truth

and nothing but the
truth, so help you God?

Yes, sir, I do.

You may be seated.

The State began strongly
enough this morning

by introducing evidence that
was shocking and irrefutable.

That the deceased
fighter, Joey McGrath,

was doped with morphine
by his trainer, Herbie Snow.

Now, it's their contention
that Snow was murdered

because his testimony
could have implicated

important figures in a
nationwide gambling syndicate.

Since that time, however,

with the exception of
a brief luncheon break,

we've seen a long procession
of frightened witnesses

who know nothing,
have heard nothing,

and say nothing.

I only done what
Blinky told me to.

And he was right, you know?

'Cause I talked to the guys in
the press section afterwards,

and they had McGrath
ahead at the end of the sixth.

Ah, if I had thought the kid
had been doped, I would...

That's all.

You may be excused.

Mr. Commissioner,

with your permission,
I think we've heard

enough for one day.

Yes, this hearing's adjourned
until 10:00 tomorrow morning.

Do you still think
there's a chance

Jarreau will open up?

Well, there's always a chance.

Come on, I'll buy you dinner.

I'll go keep you company.

Frankly, I've lost my appetite.

It appears more and more certain

that if the state has any case

at all, that case hangs

on the testimony of one
man, Barney Jarreau,

who will probably take the
stand first thing tomorrow morning.

Bernard Jarreau.

Raise your right hand.

Do you solemnly
swear to tell the truth,

the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth

so help you God?

I do not.

What kind of nonsense is this?

You take the oath

properly. I am not going to take

any oath at all.

I won't testify.

You realize you're
under a legal subpoena?

This constitutes contempt.

I don't care what
it constitutes.

You can't make me testify.

Well, you're right, Mr. Jarreau,
we can't force you to speak.

But in the opinion
of this committee,

your refusal to testify

constitutes an
admission of guilt.

That's all for now.

May I speak, please?

I am Mrs. Bernard Jarreau.

No! She hasn't been called!

She has nothing to do with this!

Quiet please!

May I speak, please?

Come forward, Mrs. Jarreau.

Don't do it.

It's going to be all right.

I can tell you

why my husband doesn't
want to say anything.

Swear her in.

Ladies and gentlemen,
Mrs. Bernard Jarreau,

a woman the police have
been seeking in connection

with the murder of
racketeer Johnny Acropolis,

is standing before the
committee and taking the oath.

Now, if it is true,
as we must assume,

that Barney Jarreau's
refusal to testify

had something to do
with her disappearance,

it seems very likely
that this hearing

is in for some very spectacular
and startling revelations.

Going somewhere, Mr. Krasna?

I first have to tell you...

that I am an illegal alien.

My husband is a
very honorable man.

I came to this country...

The testimony of Mrs. Jarreau

committed her husband
to expose Krasna

and the ruthless syndicate
operation which he controlled.

Krasna died in
prison a broken man.

Mrs. Jarreau was
subsequently tried

for the shooting
of Johnny Acropolis

and given a five year
suspended sentence.

She was deported
to Budapest in 1932,

where she resides
with her husband.

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