All language subtitles for The Untouchables - S03E23 (The Case Against Eliot Ness)_000

Do you know, Mr. Ness,
if I was a betting man,

I'd bet the whole $500,000
that you're just itching

to take a sock at me right now.

Why don't you go
ahead and do it?

Ah, come on!

Come on.

Come on.

Come on, Mr. Ex-Big Shot.

Let's see how
hard you can hit me.

Tonight's episode...
Starring Robert Stack.

Co-starring Bruce Gordon
and Jeanne Cooper.

With special guest
star Pat Hingle.

And narrated by Walter Winchell.

In 1933, the city of Chicago
became 100 years old.

To celebrate the occasion,

Chicago planned a birthday party

and invited the world.

The name given
to the festivities

was "The Century of Progress."

In other parts of
Chicago, however,

the civic anniversary
was being celebrated

in a different manner.

On the night of March 4, 1933,

the three Endicott brothers,

the joint holders of
various franchises

at The Century of Progress,

spent their last night on Earth.

Hello?

Thought you'd want to know.

It's all over, all
except your part.

You're 15 minutes late.

You'll get your money anyway.

Just sit tight, friend.

Like a drum, friend.

On the following morning
a local restaurant owner,

Gus Dmytryk, appeared
before the License Commission

of The Century of Progress,
and was granted the franchises

held by the Endicott brothers.

All right, all right, now,
one at a time, gentlemen.

One at a time.

You sure moved
fast, Mr. Dmytryk.

Several months ago I
applied for the franchises

that were later given
to the Endicott brothers.

And I don't know whether I
like the tone of that question.

Did you know the Endicotts?

Slightly.

They were fine
gentlemen, all of them.

It was a terrible tragedy.

But you stand to
make quite a profit.

Isn't that right, Mr. Dmytryk?

There's no guarantee
of profit whatever.

Three nightclubs on the midway

and five other concessions,
that's the franchise.

That's right.

And an expected 50 million
visitors through the gates.

Now, that's not the
road to the poorhouse.

This Dmytryk who
took over the clubs,

maybe he's next on the list.

More likely he made it out.

He's been on the fringes
of the rackets for years.

Is Captain Johnson
going after him?

He's already gone
and he came up empty.

Dmytryk's got nine witnesses
who saw him in New York

the night of the killings.

He could have hired those guns.

I'll tell you one good
thing about this case.

What's that?

It's not ours.

You may have something.

I'm afraid he doesn't.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

Beecher.

I, uh, am sorry
to bring bad news,

but I'm dropping the
Endicott killings in your lap.

What's Uncle Sam's interest?

Looks like a strictly
local vendetta.

Uncle Sam's interested
if Cordell Hull says so.

State Department? Why?

The fair, Century of Progress.

There'll be scores
of foreign countries,

visiting dignitaries, the works.

The state thinks Chicago
should wear her prettiest face.

Exactly.

We also had a call

from the fair's
Licensing Commission.

They want our help
in clearing personnel.

Makes sense.

The fair could make a
ripe target for the gangs.

At the same time, an
ex-Chicago alderman

and prominent
figure in civic affairs,

called upon the
License Commission.

His name was
Mitchell A. Grandin.

Excuse me, folks.

Oh, Mr. Grandin.

Hello, Mr. Grandin. How are you?

Good afternoon. Good afternoon.

I hope I didn't keep
you folks waiting.

Not at all, Mr. Grandin.

Well, gentlemen and lady...

you all know me.

And you know I

try to do as much
as I can for the city.

It's not always as
much as I'd like.

Oh, Mr. Grandin, nonsense.

I'd like you all to
know that Mr. Grandin

was responsible for raising over

$20,000 single-handedly

for the new youth
center on Clark Street.

Thanks for the
bouquet, Mrs. Halvorsen,

but I didn't come
here for flowers.

As a matter of fact, I came here

maybe to pull out a weed.

How much do you folks
know about Gus Dmytryk?

Only that his
application for a franchise

was processed in
the usual manner.

Now, he probably didn't put
this down on his application,

but Mr. Dmytryk
has been in jail twice.

Really?

Once for bootlegging,

but once for armed robbery.

Can you substantiate
these charges, Mr. Grandin?

No, sir, I can't, not
right here and now,

but you can check with
the police department.

And there's another thing.

He's a very close
friend of Frank Nitti's.

The gangster?

Ma'am, I surely hope
there's not two of them.

I'm sorry that I had to come
here and tell you folks this.

I realize how hard it'll
be to get someone else

to take over the
franchise at this late date,

but I figure you folks
don't want gangsters

at the fair any more than I do.

Well, I'm sorry, folks, but...

it looks like I'm taking
up your whole afternoon.

Mr. Grandin, you wouldn't
know anyone who might be

interested in taking over
the Endicott licenses?

No, ma'am, I wouldn't.

Of course I'd be
interested myself,

but I don't think I've got
enough cash to carry it through.

We'd be happy to
give you a little time

with the financing.

Well, I appreciate
that, sir, but...

that's not the
reason I came here.

Of course not.

It was my idea, not yours.

Yes, ma'am, I suppose it was.

I'll tell you folks what.

You check on Dmytryk.

You let me check
on my bank account.

I'll come back in
a couple of days,

see if the offer's still open.

Fine. Good enough.

Good-bye, Mr. Grandin.
Good afternoon, folks.

It's been a real pleasure.

Sorry to have to
throw a little dirt

on your good name, my friend,

but this should ease the pain.

At these prices, you can
throw all the dirt you want.

Even a few stones.

Dmytryk? Yeah?

Go out the back way.

Sure.

And Dmytryk? Yeah?

Don't keep in touch.

As a result of
their investigation,

Eliot Ness and the
Untouchables learned that

several out-of-town gunmen
had recently arrived in Chicago.

On the following afternoon,
Ness and Agent Lee Hobson

paid one of them a visit.

His name: Dolph Cagle.

Federal officers.

Open up.

What can I do for you?

Do you mind if we
leave the door open?

The management doesn't
like us to have any, uh,

gentleman callers.

Well, look, if you got a
warrant, you call the plays.

If you don't have a
warrant... All right, Cagle,

you're a great jailhouse lawyer.

You didn't come here
to tell me how great I am.

When'd you get in town?

A week ago today, but
you should know that.

Two days before
the Endicott killings.

Yeah, I read about
that in the papers.

Too bad.

Are you sure you
just read about it?

That bombing looked
like your specialty.

Now look, Mr. Big Fed,

if you want to go mouthing
off, do it someplace else.

I'm being a good guy
to let you in here at all.

But unless you got an eyewitness
that saw me knock anybody over,

then get your 30 bucks a
week flat feet out of here,

and go play tough cop
with some poor junkie.

You're a real fancy hood,
Cagle, I'll tell you something.

I think you're mixed up
in the Endicott killings.

If you are, I want to
see how tough you are

when the electrodes
are snapped on.

Don't leave town, Cagle.

We may have a
couple of rounds to go.

See anything interesting?

A phone number,
for whatever it's worth.

A name to go with it?

No, just the number.

It was jotted down
on the telephone book.

Could be a girl.

Or it couldn't.
We'll check it out.

Excuse me.

It's all right, Mr. Grandin.

Oh, Mr. Ness.

How are you, my friend?

Good, thanks.

See you again, huh?

Fine.

Yes?

Oh, pardon me.

My goodness gracious,
I seem to have gotten off

the elevator on the wrong floor.

Suit yourself.

Well, good evening.

Lee, have you got that number?

Mr. Grandin's residence. Hello?

Hello?

Mr. Grandin's residence.

Mitchell Grandin.

I don't think it's enough.

$30,000's all he can pay.
You think that's enough?

Excuse me.

I'm sorry to break in like this.

My name's Eliot Ness.

Certainly, from
Mr. Asbury's office.

One of the names that you
submitted to us for clearance

was that of Mitchell Grandin.

May I ask if he's been
granted the franchises yet?

Not yet.

He has an appointment
with us this morning.

I suggest that you
hold off for a few days.

May I ask why, Mr. Ness?

To allow us time to complete
our investigation of Mr. Grandin.

Is there something
special about his case?

We have good reason to believe
that Mr. Grandin may not be

the type of person
you'd like to have

associated with the Exposition.

What have I done, Mr. Ness?

I should be able to give you a
complete report in a few days.

Report on what?

My high school grades?

My voting record?
My table manners?

What?

I'd rather not go
into that right now.

Go ahead, Mr. Ness, I'm
sure the lady won't mind.

We're all your friends here.

May I count on your cooperation?

As I understand it, Mr. Ness,

you have no specific
charges to bring

against Mr. Grandin
at this time.

And believe me, folks,
he won't have any.

Mr. Grandin is something
of a public figure

here in Chicago,

Mr. Ness, and
flinging mud at him

won't make you many friends.

That's all he knows,
Mrs. Halvorsen... mud.

He works in it,

he sleeps in it,
he wallows in it...

Please, Mr. Grandin!

We'll give you
three days, Mr. Ness.

However, should you fail
to bring specific charges

against Mr. Grandin
in that time,

I feel you'd owe him
something of a public apology.

If I'm wrong, he'll get his...

Wrong about what?!

Mr. Chairman, I resent this

glory-hunting guardian
of the law breaking in here

and calling me something
he won't even give a name to!

I'll give it a name.

Folks, what you're seeing

right now happens all the time.

You take a man that's
got a big ambition,

you give him a badge,
you give him a gun,

and suddenly he starts to think
he's some sort of avenging angel,

but this one's not
content just to be an angel.

Three days, Grandin.

Mr. Ness, your kind
is not much at home

around decent folks like us.

Why don't you crawl
back in the mud,

talk to some of
your killer friends?

That's just what
I'm doing right now.

Excuse me, please.

Mr. Ness!

About that mud...

friend, maybe you're
gonna see how it tastes.

Did you say it, Eliot?

Did I call him a killer?

Maybe not in those words,

but yes, I called him a killer.

Look, Beecher, it adds up.

Grandin has the
Endicotts knocked over,

then he takes
over the franchises.

What about
Dmytryk? I don't know.

He's got to be part of it, but
Grandin's dealing the hand.

I'm afraid that's a
pretty wild guess.

Dolph Cagle, an imported
gun, had a phone number

written down in his
telephone book: Grandin's.

It won't prove much in court.

It's a beginning.

Come in.

I'm, um, looking for a Mr. Ness.

I'm Eliot Ness.

Uh, this is for you then.

Good day, gentlemen.

Good day.

What is it?

Our friend Grandin.

It appears he's filed
a lawsuit against me.

Slander?

$500,000.

Slander.

You're the attorney, Beecher.

Does he have a case?

Were you quoted
correctly in the papers?

Yes.

Then he has a case.

Do I have a defense?

You know the answer to that one.

I'm afraid so.

Truth is a complete defense
to a slander action, right?

Can you prove he's a killer?

Not yet.

You're aware of the possible
consequences of such a trial?

I don't have a half
a million on me.

I don't mean that. If
you lose this case, Eliot,

you lose your effectiveness
as a federal agent.

I'm aware of that, Beecher.

I, uh, I'm sorry.

But you know you can count on me

for anything you want.

Eliot... where do we start?

At the beginning
with Dolph Cagle.

What are we waiting for?

The house is on fire.

Yeah?

I'd like to talk to
Frank Nitti, please.

What about?

This is Mitchell
Grandin speaking.

This is Nitti. What can
I do for you, Grandin?

You might call it disposing
of a little evidence.

Then Ness could pin it on you?

I guess you might say so.

I don't figure you do too
much guessin', Grandin.

How many in on it?

Three.

Names.

Dolph Cagle, Billy
Cooner, Fats Gilman.

I've got Cagle here in town.

The others skipped
as far as I know.

What do I get out of this?

Ness' head on a platter.

Hello, Birdie.

What do you want from me, Ness?

What I usually want.

I don't know nothin'.

About what?

You name it.

The Endicott killings.

Like I said, nothin'.

50 bucks, as usual.
Cash on delivery.

Ness, how many times
do I have to tell you? I...

You don't know nothin'.

Dolph Cagle says you do.

You're lyin'. Dolph's
a friend of mine.

One of my best friends.

50 bucks isn't enough
for a good friend.

40... 60... 75...

That better?

One of my best friends.

That's it, Birdie.

No, Ness. I, I can't do it.

But wait a second.

$75, huh?

Listen, you ain't
gonna tell nobody

I'm tipping you now?

That's your
department, not ours.

All right.

There was, uh,
three of 'em in on it:

Fats Gilman, Billy
Cooner, and, uh... Cagle.

Who hired them?

I don't know, honest.

Where are they now?

I don't know. I ain't
seen Cagle in a week,

and, uh, I don't even
know the other guys.

Okay, Birdie, get out of here.

I'm gone.

Cagle, Gilman and Cooner.

Dolph Cagle, Fats
Gilman and Billy Cooner.

Now I've already
taken care of Cagle,

so that leaves the other two.

Where are they?

That's your job.

Find 'em and keep
their mouths shut.

As far as I know, there's
only one sure way of doin' that.

Ness loses this case, then he's
the last man in the bread line.

We fished him from the lake,

but it looked like a ten-ton
truck had run over him first.

And Cagle's identification
was found on the body?

Yeah. Wallet, some
keys, a couple of letters

and a watch inscribed:
"To Dolph, From The Boys."

The oldest gag in the world.

Yeah, planting someone else's
identity on an unknown stiff.

And then disfiguring the face.

There's only one trouble:
Cagle has no fingerprint record.

That's convenient.

So that's why I had the widow
brought down from Cincinnati.

She's here?

Just outside.

I always hate to
do this, Mrs. Cagle,

but I'm afraid I must ask
you to look at the remains.

Well, if it's, if it's
Dolph, I'd like to know.

All right, Bill.

I don't know. I... I can't tell.

I'm sorry to put
you through this,

but if anything new
develops, we'll let you know.

One more thing, Mrs. Cagle,

if you don't mind.

Does your husband have
any distinguishing marks

or scars on his body?

No. Y-yes.

Yes, he has a-a scar on
his... on his right shoulder.

He got it from a
bullet in a gunfight.

It's a funny sort of V-shape.

And now back to...

With the cooperation of the
press, Eliot Ness made sure

that Dolph Cagle's death
was widely advertised.

His objective: to smoke
out the remaining killers,

but after three days,
he had heard nothing.

Well, how's it going?

This thing's gotten
to me, I'm afraid.

Eliot, why don't you
take some time off?

Whose idea is that?

You're driving
yourself into the ground.

I appreciate your concern.

All right, I... I have
had a suggestion...

It's just a suggestion...

That I take you off duty
until after the trial is over.

Look, Beecher...

I'm fighting for my life.

I know.

Hello.

Yeah, just a minute.

Long distance for you.

Hello. Ness.

Mr. Ness, this is Billy Cooner.

It's Cooner.

Where are you, Cooner?

New York.

I hear you been lookin' for me.

That's right.

I want you to know
something first.

I didn't kill none
of those guys.

I was just the wheels.

You drove for Cagle and Gilman?

That's it and nothin' else.

Who hired you?

You already know. I
been readin' the papers.

Grandin?

Yeah.

Why call me?

I also read about Cagle.

If we give you protection,
will you testify in court?

Will you keep me
out of the chair?

We'll try from this end.

Then meet me tomorrow
night at the Greenwich Hotel

on 11th Street, room 204, 10:00.

And you come personal.

Well, Eliot, about
that time off...

I think a couple of
days in New York

would do you a wealth of good.

You never can tell.

All you folks getting
enough to eat?

Fine. Fine.

Let's see if we can't get
some more potato salad

for Mr. James there.

Folks, I called you here today

to tell you that I haven't
heard yet from Mr. Eliot Ness.

Not one word of apology.

Will you give up the
lawsuit if he apologizes?

Certainly not, but if
he'd admit his mistake,

admit that he's human,

I might go so far as to call

some of my friends
in Washington,

try and see if they couldn't
go a little easy on him.

You don't seem
to have any doubts

about your winning the suit.

Why should I?

Ness can't prove
something that isn't true.

Now folks, you can
quote me on this:

Mr. Eliot Ness has
taken on a new job:

public persecutor!

At 9:15 the following night,

Eliot Ness and Agent Hobson
arrived in New York City.

They went directly to
the appointed rendezvous

with Billy Cooner, arriving at
the Greenwich Hotel at 9:47.

Cooner?

Cooner, open up.

That same night, in the council
room above the Club Montmartre,

Nitti himself was finding
the time growing short.

Another dead end on Gilman.

But Frank, we been lookin'.

Not hard enough. The trial
starts day after tomorrow,

and that Gilman is one
fat loose end to tie up.

Maybe he skipped town. Maybe.

But you keep lookin' like
you know he didn't, huh?

Sit down, I'll get it.

Hello?

It's Augie, Frank.

We found Gilman.

Where?

A fleabag joint on Jefferson.

But Frank, we got trouble.

Go on.

The cops picked him up
about two minutes ago.

Augie, you get this straight.

I want him dead.

You hearin' this?

Yeah, Frank.

If that fat man ain't dead

before Ness gets
to him... you'll be.

Right, Frank.

They're dead,
Sergeant... Both of 'em.

All aboard.

Flight seven... westbound
super skychief strataliner

for Kansas city, Albuquerque...

and Los Angeles. Eliot...

Sorry, Eliot, we
heard about Cooner.

Anything on Gilman yet?

They got him, too.

It happened less
than an hour ago.

One new twist.

The man who shot Gilman
was one of Nitti's guns.

All right, put somebody
on Nitti's place.

One on Grandin's, too.

You'd better get
some rest, Eliot.

Let's worry about
that after the trial.

Oh, glad you could
make it, Mr. Grandin.

Nitti, you must be out of
your mind bringing me here,

and I want you to know I don't
appreciate this kind of treatment.

Oh, relax. Your worries
are over, Mr. Grandin.

Fats Gilman is no
longer among the living,

and Cooner you
already know about.

You didn't have to bring
me here to tell me that.

Now that's good
thinkin', Grandin.

I'd hate to think I was goi"
into business with a dummy.

What are you talking about?

Now you went and
disappointed me.

I thought I just told you.

You and me are going
into business together.

Oh?

What kind of business?

Yours. You won't find
it on no financial page,

but you just sold me
half of everything you got.

No.

No... No, you've got
nothing on me, Nitti.

You took care of
that all by yourself.

Neat, too, don't you think?

What's your angle?

Just a little surprise
for you, Grandin.

Right, boys?

Hi, Grandin.

Cagle.

The case of Mitchell
Grandin versus Eliot Ness

went to trial on the
morning of April 23, 1933.

By the noon recess
on the second day,

the outcome appeared obvious...
Grandin would win in a walk.

Can you give us some idea

of the defense you'll
employ? No comment.

Do you still stand by what you said
about Grandin? Boys, that's enough.

It doesn't look good, does
it? Boys, that's enough!

Okay, Mr. Ness.

Thank you.

You'll feel better after lunch.

Yeah, I'll feel great.

This afternoon I get to
listen to a string of witnesses

testify to my
reputation, my integrity,

how I'm nice to dogs and
help old ladies across the street.

Unfortunately, that doesn't
prove that Grandin's a killer.

Yes. All indications point

to the case going to the
jury tomorrow morning.

It shouldn't take them long.
What about the franchises?

The Licensing Commission
has assured me that they're going

to meet just as soon as possible
after a verdict is announced.

Gentlemen...

as a small gesture of
gratitude for the extremely fair

and just manner in which
this incident has been handled

by all concerned, I want to
announce that I am donating

the first two weeks receipts
from my fair concessions

to a charitable fund,

which the mayor of Chicago
may distribute as he wishes.

That's extremely
generous, Mr. Grandin.

Thank you. REPORTER
2: And extremely well timed.

Excuse me, gentlemen. Thank you.

Well, well, well, Mr. Ness.

Now don't worry, Mr. Ness.

I don't expect you to pay the
whole half million right away.

No, you can pay it
off a little bit at a time.

You get you a job someplace,
put a little aside every week...

You ought to get the whole thing
paid off in a couple hundred years.

You know, Mr. Ness,
if I was a betting man,

I'd bet the whole $500,000

that you're just itching to
take a sock at me right now.

Why don't you go
ahead and do it?

Ah, come on!

Come on... Come on!

Come on, Mr. Ex-big shot.

Let's see how
hard you can hit me.

Ah, come on... it'd do
you a world of good.

Will you hand me
that towel, Grandin?

Sure.

Eliot, I'd like to
talk to you a minute.

Well, I was just
leaving, gentlemen.

See you in court.

What was that all about?

He's been playing cat
with me as a mouse.

Did you get anything?

I don't know.

The Grandin stakeout
got us a big flat zero,

but Nitti had an interesting
caller this morning.

Does he tie in with Grandin?

It was a she. Fran Cagle.

Cagle's wife. She still in town?

Yeah, we tailed her back
to the Livingston Hotel.

Rossi's sticking with her.

Nitti and Cagle's wife.

Nitti got Gilman.
Maybe he got Cagle, too.

Maybe Mrs. Cagle
knows Nitti did it.

Maybe she's getting paid off.

No, Nitti handles blackmailers
with a bullet, not with a payoff.

Then I don't get it.

If he were paying her
off he could do it by mail.

Lee, get down to
police headquarters.

Check every missing
persons report

that's been filed for
the past three weeks.

Don't stop with Chicago.

Anyplace in a
hundred-mile radius.

Anything special you
want me to look for?

A scar. A shoulder
scar shaped like a V.

I'll see you later.

That's... that's, uh... that's
quite a long shot, Eliot.

Beecher, a drowning
man grabs for a straw

because that's the
only thing around.

Let's get that lunch, huh?

Good, Rico, stay with her.

Well, there's nothing
in the Chicago batch.

Maybe the descriptions
aren't complete.

Then we're out of luck.

Hey... wait a minute.

Take a look at this one, Eliot.

Jerome Fancher. Male
Caucasian, 41 years old.

Black hair, brown eyes.

Large scar on right cheek
and a small triangular scar

on right shoulder, received
from shrapnel during World War.

Due to return from
Chicago April 1st.

Reported by employer missing
in Gary, Indiana, April 3rd.

Bachelor.

Very considerate of Mr. Nitti.

Think he's the one?

I don't know.

Lee, let's pay a call
to our bereaved widow.

What do you want?

Just a condolence
call, Mrs. Cagle.

Well, you're late.

Maybe not.

It seems I asked this before.

What do you want?

What were you doing at
Nitti's club this morning?

I wasn't anywhere
near Nitti's club.

One of my men saw you there

at ten minutes after
9:00 this morning.

All right, I went
there to ask for a job.

What kind of job?

What difference does it make?

Hatcheck girl, waitress?

I don't see where it's
any of your business.

You need money?

Now, look. Dolph left
me without a penny.

I even have to pay off
the suit he was buried in.

Gimme that.

This should take
care of the suit.

It's mine!

I know.

Where'd you get it?

A friend.

You have generous friends.

The name Jerome Fancher
mean anything to you?

Not a thing.

Probably doesn't, but that's
the name of the man you buried.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Yes, you do.

Nitti set up a body for you
to identify as your husband.

And this is part of the payoff.

You're dreaming, Mr. Ness.

I'll dream some more for you.

Nitti told you as soon
as the trial was over,

you and your husband
could leave town.

I hope you didn't buy
that part of the story.

I don't know what you mean.

This trial is the only thing

that's keeping
your husband alive.

Nitti's using him as a
wedge against Grandin.

So, as soon as Nitti gets

whatever he's
after with Grandin,

you'd better start shopping
for another suit to bury him in.

Oh, you're guessing
up quite a storm.

If Nitti doesn't take care of
him, chances are, Grandin will.

Grandin?

That's right. Grandin.

I'm sure you've heard
the name before.

Get out of here.

Believe me, Mrs. Cagle,

next time they won't leave
anything for you to identify.

Get out!

Don't get upset.

I've just been dreaming.

Looks like you lit a fuse.

I still don't get it.

I thought she was
tied up with Nitti.

She's got something
that Grandin wants.

What's that?

Her husband's life.

$25,000.

Dear lady, that's
a lot of money.

He's worth more
than that... to you.

Somehow I hate to bet
$25,000 on your honesty.

Well, maybe Eliot Ness would.

Maybe he would.

But why such a low
price on your husband?

Well, you just said
it was a lot of money.

For me.

Not for a loving wife.

Well, you see, he's
going to be dead anyway.

It was very carefully
explained to me.

Where is he?

Just a few blocks away.

I can give you the address
after I count the money.

How do I know he's there?

You can call the hotel.

He's registered under
the name of Adolph Brown.

No, dear lady, that
proves nothing to me.

Wait a minute.

I've got his hotel key.

We each have one.

My, my, so loyal. So devoted.

You believe me now?

Not quite, about 50%.

And that, dear lady,

is just exactly what
you're going to get...

50% of $25,000.

You'll get the rest after.
Now, the key, please.

Well, first, I'd like
to count the money.

Ah, you're a young lady
of a great many talents.

I keep alive.

The way you operate, dear lady,

that could be a
career in itself.

When will he be...
shall we say "receiving"?

Nitti keeps moving him around.

He'll be at the
hotel in half an hour.

You can figure he'll be
asleep an hour after that.

I think you'd like
it better that way.

So, that gives you
an hour and a half.

Mrs. Cagle, I could get
to like you a whole lot.

Just as long as you
were not my wife.

Here she comes.

Rico, stay here
and cover Grandin.

Lee and I will pick up a
couple of friendly policemen

and escort our lady friend
to her destination. Right.

Fran? Yeah.

Honey, pack. We
have to move fast.

Move? What do you mean, move?

Come on, get dressed. Grandin
will be here in about an hour.

Grandin? Well, how did
he find out I was here?

I told him.

You?

Dolph, look.

He gave me $12,500.

Now that's enough money
for us to get out of the country

and stay out, so they
can all forget about you.

Now, will you
please get dressed?

All right. Stop-Stop
worrying. I'll be okay.

Yeah. Yeah, you'll be okay.

Ness is looking for you.

Grandin is gunning for you.

Nitti's counting the hours
before they can knock you off.

You're on top of the world.

All right. Where do we go?

I don't know.

First we'll go to Canada.

We'll figure it out from there.

Okay?

Okay.

Hold it, Cagle, right there!

Don't shoot!

Oh, my God!

I'm sorry, Mr. Ness.

Yeah.

Real tears taste different,
don't they, Mrs. Cagle?

Is Grandin coming over here?

Uh-huh.

He'll be in for a big
surprise when he gets here.

The biggest he ever had.

Right on time.

Uh-oh.

Yes, Officer?

Step over here a minute.

Certainly, Officer.

He could scare him off.

Sorry, Mr. Grandin, I
didn't recognize you.

That's quite all right, Officer.

Just doing your duty.

It looks like we lost him.

Give you a lift home?
No. No, thanks.

I live a couple
blocks from here.

Sorry to have bothered you.

No bother at all.

Get back.

Hey! Huh?

Can I help you?

No, I, uh... I just
parked my car in back.

I-I got my keys.

Okay. Just checking.

A lot of bums try to sneak in
here and sleep in the hallway.

Oh, yeah.

Say, they ought to get some
heat for you fellas down here.

Good night.

You're too late, Grandin.
He's already dead.

I'll be down at the lab
in an hour for the prints.

Get up, killer.

We don't want to
keep the judge waiting.

On April 29, 1933,

the Chicago Century of
Progress was opened to the public.

On that night the power
of the distant star Arcturus

was harnessed
to turn on the lights

for the giant exhibition.

Among the thousands of
happy and curious visitors

were Eliot Ness and
his Untouchables.

The Untouchables.