All language subtitles for The Untouchables S01E01 The Empty Chair.DVDRip.NonHI.cc.en.CBS

Hey, boys.

Surprise.

Mwah.

The premiere of
The Untouchables.

Tonight's episode:

Starring Robert Stack.

Co-starring Barbara Nichols

and Bruce Gordon.

With special guest
star Nehemiah Persoff.

Chicago, May 5th 1932.

After seven months
of legal delays,

Al Capone, the most
notorious product

of the nation's
experiment with Prohibition,

was on his way to federal prison

to serve 11 years for
income tax evasion.

Look this way, Al.

Hey, Al, over here.

Make a statement, Al. Come on.

On hand to watch the
mobster leave was Eliot Ness,

chief of the unique
federal squad

known as the Untouchables,

the special unit that
had worked for 18 months

to bring Al Capone to justice.

For these men, the end
of the Capone career

was just the beginning
of another era of violence.

The king of the hoodlums

had left a vacant
throne behind him.

The next man to claim it

would pay for the privilege
in bullets and bloodshed.

Good old Al. Remind
me to write him every day.

You won't have time.

Who's next in line?

Frank Nitti, Raddi, Sammons,
D'Andrea, any one of them.

Guzik? Maybe.

Capone shares the big
one and it's still warm.

Can those guys fill it?

That's the trouble
with mobsters.

They grow big too fast.

The one that grows the
fastest, he's our next pigeon.

Life had little value
in Capone's empire.

Violence was a matter of cause.

Death was accepted as
part of the daily routine.

But there were
exceptions to the rule.

One of them was
buried in this cemetery.

His name, George Ritchie,

a would-be hoodlum who had
strayed to the side of justice.

The date: May 8th, three
days after Capone's removal

to a federal cell.

The occasion: The ceremony
honoring the first anniversary

of Ritchie's death.

The mourners at this
ceremony represented

a strange cross-section
of Capone's subjects.

There was Ritchie's
widow, Brandy LaFrance,

ex-burlesque queen,
the niece of Jake Guzik,

treasurer and bookkeeper
of the Capone mob.

Guzik's widowed sister, Norma.

Phil D'Andrea, expert
machine-gunner.

Fur Sammons, hijacker,
rumrunner, killer.

Gus Raddi, Capone's
pineapple expert.

Tony "Mops" Volpe,
chief triggerman.

And finally, Frank Nitti,
Capone's hatchet man,

known as "The Enforcer."

That George Ritchie, the
way she carries on over him,

you'd think he was somebody.

What was he? An
informer for Ness, the punk.

He lived too long as it was.

You should've had him
knocked off even before you did.

Come on. Let's get out of here.

May 12th 1932,

one week after Capone left town.

Two of his
principal lieutenants,

Gus Raddi and Tony "Mops" Volpe,

entered the Elite, a barbershop
on Chicago's South Side.

Good morning, Mr. Raddi.

Good morning, Mr. Volpe.

I got a long wait, Joe?

Uh, no, sir, Mr. Raddi.
No, sir. No wait at all.

I'm ready for you right now.

Tessie's finished too.

You're ready for me, ain't you?

I still have my
customer, Mr. Volpe.

I think you must
be a new man here.

I'll finish up first, Mr. Volpe.

Oh, hey, look, I haven't got
time for a shave right now, huh?

I'll come back another time.

See? I'm next.

I want a haircut, not a shave.

Uh, excuse me, Mr. Raddi,
I... I'd better get some new linen.

You'd better get some
fresh linen for Mr. Volpe too.

What's the matter with you?
You go crazy or something?

Those are Al Capone's boys.

I don't handle garbage
with my bare hands.

Do you think I like it?

Enrico, please take care of
them and get them out of here.

Hey, boys, surprise.

Mwah.

You. You know me?
You ever see me before?

No. I... I... I don't
know nothing.

I... I didn't see nothing.
I... I don't even know you.

Let's go.

Oh!

I don't know nothing.

Hi, Ness. Flaherty.

Who'd they get?

Tony Volpe, Gus Raddi.

Oh, they also
killed the manicurist,

Tessie DiGiovanna.

Who did it?

Well, the other barber in
the backroom says Frank Nitti.

Believe me, mister, he...

He doesn't know
what he's talking about.

He saw nothing. That's
what he keeps on saying.

Let me talk to the other fellow.

Right back there.

Do you know Nitti?

You saw Nitti do it?

What's the matter?
Can't you talk?

He caught that.

He came in with Nitti.
Cut him with a razor.

That took moxie.

That hood had a gun.
You knew that, didn't you?

I'm telling you. He doesn't
know what he's talking about.

He saw nothing.
We both saw nothing.

Get him out of here. All
right, outside. Come on.

Are you willing to
testify against Frank Nitti

if we can bring him to trial?

Your life's gonna be
in danger, you know.

Tessie, she was
only 17 years old.

Mr. Ness, I know who you are.

I want to do something
more than testify.

Please help me to do
something about these butchers.

Enrico Rossi was a
rare and valuable find.

A material witness
courageous enough

to identify
professional killers.

But as long as those
killers were at large,

Rossi's courage was
an invitation to disaster.

However, his protectors
were the best in the business.

The federal special squad
known as the Untouchables.

Martin Flaherty, former
Boston police officer

with an outstanding
bureau arrest record.

William Youngfellow,
full-blooded Cherokee,

second team
all-American in 1924.

Largely responsible
for the breakup

of the Oklahoma City booze ring.

Jack Rossman, former telephone
company lineman from New York,

now a wiretap expert.

LaMarr Kane of the
Richmond bureau,

law-school graduate,
married, two children.

That's him.

That's Frank Nitti.

He'll be just as easy
to recognize in court.

Well, he hasn't
been picked up yet.

He knows you can identify him.

He'll have every torpedo
in town gunning for you.

You trying to say I
shouldn't testify, Mr. Ness?

Not at all. I just
want you to know

that you'll need all the
protection we can give you.

It looks like I... I've
got all I need right now.

Rico, yesterday you
said you'd like to do more

than just testify.

I meant that.

Can you drive a car?

Sure.

Our car?

You mean that?

That's a good idea.

That way we'll be around to
keep an eye on him all the time.

Marty, check on
Mr. Rossi for clearance

and give him
temporary credentials.

I think he's just
joined the squad.

The violent and sudden deaths

of Tony "Mops"
Volpe and Gus Raddi

on the afternoon of May
12th, resulted in a call by Guzik

for a meeting in the
Montmartre Café,

the old hangout
and the headquarters

for the Capone gang.

In the private office
over the Montmartre,

three of the remaining six heirs

of the Capone empire waited.

Fur Sammons, Phil D'Andrea,

and the man who
knew that the number

had been cut down
by two, Frank Nitti.

Oh!

Jake Guzik is on his way up.

That means we gotta
wait for Volpe and Raddi.

I hope they ain't late.

Come on, kid, come on.

Push her over.

The winner gets 50 bucks.

Okay, kids, out. Come
on. Come on. Let's go.

What's the matter, Jake?
Eliot Ness been chasing you?

Volpe and Raddi, they're dead.

You sure?

I'm sure.

How do you know?

They were in a barbershop
on the South Side

for a lousy haircut
and a manicure.

Somebody goes in the
backroom, opens up with a chopper.

Who would do it?

I don't know who, but
I got a good idea why.

Why?

Why?

Because of that.

To be Al Capone.

Somebody declared war.

Somebody wants
to sit in the big chair.

And that somebody is right here.

You.

You got the ambition?

I want just what I got.

You, Philipo?

You're little but, uh,

maybe you wanna grow up quick.

No, Frank. On my honor.

Or maybe it was
you, the bookkeeper,

the guy with the greasy thumb.

Maybe it was you, Frank.

Maybe it was.

Big chair, big man.

Let's see if it fits.

Yeah, it fits all right.

Anybody object?

Any objections, speak up now.

So you declared war.

Yeah, it was me. Personally.

Now, let's hear your objections.

Muscles and guns.

Nobody learns.

Capone's gonna rot in jail.

He had all the muscles
and guns in the world.

You think you're
tougher than Al?

You want to sit
here, Jake, don't you?

No, no, you sit there.

Go ahead, make
yourself comfortable.

You'll be joining Al
in prison before long.

You watch it, bookkeeper.

All I gotta do is wait.

That chair will be empty
again. I got plenty of time.

You got the money too.

One hundred million
bucks stashed away

all over the country.

But I take it now, Jake.

You can have the money.

I don't want it,
but I'll get it back.

I don't like the way
you're so sure of yourself.

I'm not sure of myself, Frank.

I'm sure of you,
and of you and you.

I thought with Capone
gone, we'd change.

We'd close up the organization
so Ness can't get to us.

I was thinking to myself,

"We gotta be smarter
than the federal agents.

Let's not fall in
that trap again."

So, what happens?

While I'm thinking,

big Frank Nitti, the Enforcer,

he chops up Volpe and Raddi.

He does Ness' work for him.
He cuts down the organization.

I can cut you down too, Jake.

Sure you can.

Sure, you can kill me,
and you can kill him,

and you can kill him,

and then you know
what you can do, Frank?

You can kill yourself.

I'm finished sitting by with
some goon holding a gun.

You know why?
Because a gun can't think.

It can shoot, bookkeeper.

Hey, uh, I think Jake's right.

So do I.

Okay.

Keep on thinking.

All right.

First thing we gotta make sure

that nobody here gets
caught on an income-tax rap.

We're gonna start
paying income taxes.

Yeah, yeah.

And we're gonna keep books,

several kinds of
legitimate books.

I'm gonna make honest
businessmen out of all of you.

What about the
handbooks, and the booze,

and the flops,
and the rest of it?

No, no, no, no, no,
no, no. That's for cash.

That's the cream.

We're gonna set
up other businesses.

Real ones. Legitimate ones.

Hey, Phil, you like
clean clothes, don't you?

Sure. How would you like to own

a small chain of
dry-cleaning places?

You can pick 'em up cheap for
a couple of hundred grand, huh?

You pay taxes on
what you earn, that's all,

and they can't touch you.

How 'bout my
handbooks and the girls?

We'll continue
bringing in the cream.

Okay?

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Get out of the chair.

Now, here's what we do.

On May 21st 1932,

Eliot Ness requested
a conference

with the special district
attorney, Beecher Asbury.

With him were Martin
Flaherty, William Youngfellow,

and the newest member
of the staff, Enrico Rossi.

How do you do?
How do you do, sir?

You were the
eyewitness in the, uh,

Volpe and Raddi
killing, weren't you?

Yes, sir. One of them.

The other barber was there too.

But he swears Nitti
had nothing to do with it.

Hm, two eyewitnesses
who won't agree.

Well, we can't
build a case on that.

Nitti has 50 eyewitnesses

who swear he was at
a wedding reception.

Naturally. Naturally.

All right, Eliot,
what can we do?

Have you got any suggestions?

Get them on tax evasion.

Just like that.

It worked against Capone.
Why not against Nitti?

Look, there's Guzik,
D'Andrea and Sammons.

They all want what Nitti wants.

That killing should've
started the biggest dogfight

this town ever
saw. It probably has.

That's just the
point. It hasn't.

The kennel is quiet. The dogs
are eating out of the same bowl.

Meaning?

Meaning they've come to an
understanding, a compromise.

I think Nitti's been buffaloed.

Ah, Frank Nitti doesn't
buffalo that easily.

Ah, it takes brains to do it.

The only one in that mob

who doesn't keep his
brains in his shoulder holster

is Jake Guzik.

I don't know, Eliot.

Guzik's a bookkeeper.

The best he can do for them

is to give them a
phony set of books.

And the best we can do is
to subpoena those books.

Turn them over
to a tax examiner.

There's got to be
something in those figures

we can use against them.

All right, I'll get a subpoena.

Who do we go after first?

Let's start with Phil D'Andrea.

Eliot Ness and Martin Flaherty,

armed with a subpoena
from a federal court,

seized the books
of Phil D'Andrea's

recently acquired chain
of dry-cleaning stores.

You been in this business long?

Oh, yeah, I, uh,
been a silent partner

for a long time.

And then, I decided to
take a... A more active, um...

Role. Uh, yeah... Yeah, a role.

Uh... Great to have
a lawyer with you.

He knows all the words.

You needn't have
bothered to troll the court

for a subpoena for those books.

If you had merely
asked for them,

Mr. D'Andrea would
have been delighted

to bring them in himself.

It's not one of my hopes in
life to delight Mr. D'Andrea.

I only want to surprise him.

With the seizure of
D'Andrea's books,

special tax examiner,
Julius Scalmone,

from the Bureau
of Internal Revenue,

was called in to
set up an audit.

Remarkable.
Absolutely remarkable.

This man Guzik must be a genius.

As a bookkeeper or a crook?

Both.

These books are
perfect. Look at them.

Perfect.

We're not interested in his
technique, Mr. Scalmone.

We are trying to build a
tax case against D'Andrea.

Not a chance.

These books make him look like
the most honest man in America.

Then we can't take him to court.

Afraid not.

Unless you find he's
hidden half a million dollars

in a safety-deposit
box or something.

Well, he's got that
much somewhere.

Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Ness.

I wish... I wish I
could do more.

Well, good luck.

Thanks.

I'll need it.

And now, back to
The Untouchables.

Brandy, come here.

Jake.

Yeah, Uncle Jake?

Sit down.

Uh, listen,

we've been good
to you, haven't we?

I mean, ever since Georgie died,

there's been nothing that we
had that you haven't had, huh?

And I'm grateful. You know that.

Well, then if you're grateful,
honey, why don't you show it?

Smile a while.

You got a beautiful smile there.

Jake, let her be.

And stop with the black dress.

You're young and pretty.

You got a wonderful
life ahead of you.

Without Georgie, I don't know.

So he's gone. We
can't bring him back.

That's one thing
that even I can't do.

But you promised you'd
find out who killed him.

And what if I did? What
would you do, kill him?

What are you, another
Frank Nitti or something?

Maybe.

Killing people is not easy.

You couldn't do it.

But you could
have it done for me.

Barbara, you mustn't

even think such a thing.

I can't help how I think.

All I know is

Georgie got killed when
he tried to go straight,

and I want to find out why.

All right. I'll tell you why.

Because he turned
patsy for the federal men.

That Eliot Ness and
his high-and-mighty.

They killed him?

In a way. They pressured
him. They badgered him.

They scared him until he turned
against his very best friends.

They sort of hung a target
on his back, the poor kid.

Eliot Ness.

Brandy, darling.

Forget that revenge
business, huh?

I wish I could.

The books haven't worked.

We can't get them
on tax evasion.

So we'll try something else.

Nitti started a dogfight.

Guzik poured cold water
on it and calmed him down.

Now, we're gonna tie
a tin can to Nitti's tail

and chase him from one
end of Chicago to the other.

Tomorrow morning,
we start closing up

every one of Nitti's handbooks,

crap parlors, stills,

and his new speakeasy
on the South Side.

I don't want a nickel
of illegal money

to wind up in Nitti's pocket.

What do you expect will happen?

I don't expect.

I hope Nitti will go busting
into the Café Montmartre,

up the stairs and into
Jake Guzik's teeth.

He's gonna be sore. He's gonna
want to know why we're after him

and not Jake Guzik,
not Phil D'Andrea

and not Fur Sammons.

And maybe,

just maybe, a
dogfight will start.

Divide and conquer, huh?

Well, it worked
for Julius Caesar.

It might work for us.

You'll get your individual
assignments from Marty.

What do you got for me?

And so one night in June,

phase two of Eliot
Ness' campaign

against the potential heirs
to Capone's empire began.

Each of Nitti's places,

carefully pinpointed in
advance, were raided.

In each of the places,

the raids came
as a big surprise.

The gamblers had
expected the old order

of protection to prevail.

Instead they saw
their money disappear

into the hands of
law-enforcement officers.

And Nitti could
do nothing about it.

The raiders struck deep
into Nitti's criminal operation.

His houses of prostitution,

operating in quiet
neighborhoods,

were suddenly
thrown into a turmoil.

In other parts of the city,
the action was just as direct,

just as devastating.

Each raid was a deliberate
blow to Nitti's pocketbook

and standing in
the hoodlum empire.

His own men, cooking
alky in backrooms,

were caught in the act.

Their stills were smashed.

Their illegal whiskey
destroyed or confiscated.

The final touch of
indignity for Frank Nitti

was the raiding of
his own speakeasy.

Nitti had been
deeply, mortally struck,

and the Enforcer was angry,

angry enough to kill.

What are all these
monkeys doing here?

You got a bad temper, Frank.

Nobody likes the way
you call a meeting.

I got a good reason to
have a bad temper, Jake.

Maybe. We can discuss that.

I told you once before, muscles
and guns get nobody anyplace.

Now, you send them away,

and let's talk
about it sensibly.

Now, let's sit down
and talk it over.

Somebody's been fingerin' me.

I don't sit till I
know who it is.

Nobody's fingerin' you,
Frank. It's all in your head.

Don't get cute with me.

You'll pay with your guts
when you get cute with me.

That Ness has really
got you going, hasn't he?

And don't blame it on Ness.

Somebody's fingerin'
me. I checked.

He didn't touch a
spot in his territory

or his or yours.

No fooling.

Go ahead. Go
ahead. Big tough guy.

Go on and do it. Blast.

Maybe we'll get rid
of you once and for all.

Nitti the Enforcer.
Nitti the Nut.

Go ahead, what's stopping you?

We got a dozen
monkeys out there.

We picked them up for 50
bucks each, guns and all.

You shoot, they shoot, then
all your problems are solved.

They'll give you a big
funeral with roses and flags

and cars and everything.

A big wreath saying,
"Rest in peace, Frank Nitti."

That's what your gun'll
get you, a big funeral.

You know what I
got? I got a pencil.

And with this pencil,

I can make a man rich
or I can make a man poor.

I can put him on top,

I can send him to
the jail for all his life.

With this pencil, I
can cross you off

or I can write you
in. You understand?

Now, that Ness, he knocked
off your places to steam you up,

to get you up here
with a gun to blast.

And what do you do?
What does Frank Nitti do?

He comes running up here,

exactly the way Eliot
Ness tells him to do.

You're working
for him for nothing.

You might as well go
to the federal house

and ask him for a salary check
if you're gonna work for him.

Okay, okay. What
about my places?

I got a plan!

What is it?! No, no, no.

I tell you nothing until
you give up your guns.

We're sick and tired
of you and your guns!

We're tired of seeing
you carry it and wave it

and pick your teeth with it!

This is an
association, not a gang.

Nobody strong-arms
anybody anymore.

You want in? Forget
about the guns.

Now, what's it gonna be?

In or out?

What you been
eatin' lately, Jake?

You talk like a guy with
a bulletproof stomach.

I been eatin' fish, brain food.

I been eatin' it
for a long time.

Now, here's what the
association is gonna do.

Ness knocked off your places.

All of us give you
a share of our take

until you can open up again.

If anyone else's
place is knocked off,

that man can get money
from us until he can start again.

If Ness hits one of
us, he hits all of us.

Now, does that satisfy you?

Yeah, that's okay.

That's, uh, some pencil.

Well...?

It's quiet as a graveyard.

Nitti's opened up a
couple more places.

One horse parlor
and a narcotics drop.

Nitti gets wiped out,
nothing happens.

Now he's picking up the
pieces and starting all over again.

Sammons is alive.

As of this morning he was.

Phil D'Andrea's around
looking prosperous.

And Jake Guzik
is still eatin' good.

It's a dud. We've
drawn another blank.

Maybe it's the lull
before the storm.

No. No, with what we
know about Frank Nitti,

there should be a war going
on in this town. There's no war.

Guzik's talked Nitti out
of it, one way or another.

Guzik's really come
up in the world.

If we pull Jake Guzik
out of that operation,

they'd fall apart.

Yeah, but Guzik would be
the toughest one of them to get.

If anyone knows where Capone's
spread his money, it's Guzik.

Capone left nearly ten million
from his operations hidden.

And it's my bet that he hasn't
got it written down in his head,

but in a book, in
black and white.

They don't call him the
bookkeeper for nothing.

If only George Ritchie
were alive. He could find it.

Yeah, too bad he was
killed. Poor little guy.

Forty ice-pick holes in him

before they had the
decency to shoot him.

Eliot, you can't blame yourself.

Trying to play policeman
just to make himself look

a little bigger to his wife.

Some wife.

A stripper on State Street.

Eh. She's changed.

Who? Brandy LaFrance?

Yeah. She gave up burlesque.
Went into a deep mourning.

She's just a widow now.

What do you mean mourning?
He's been dead for over a year.

I know. The whole
neighborhood's been talking about it.

She goes shopping with
her mother, Norma Louise.

And that's about all
the going out she does.

If Ritchie's death
affected her that much,

maybe she'd be interested
in finding out who killed him.

We haven't any other
choice. The barrel's empty.

We gotta get ahold
of Brandy LaFrance.

Three pounds per quarter!

Good morning, Mrs.
Ritchie. I got fresh stuff today.

I know a fellow who
knows your Georgie.

What do you mean?
Pick up a few tomatoes

and don't talk straight to me.

I know a guy who says he
knows who killed your husband.

Cicoria, potatoes,
tomatoes! Over here!

Who is he?

I'll take you to him.

I'll park on Monroe
Street tonight.

Black car on the corner,
8:30. Across from Little Joe's.

Barbara, we don't
need any tomatoes.

Oh, I got tomatoes
like you never saw, lady.

Look, look, what a cook, huh?

I never saw you here before.

I help my brother-in-law
out once in a while.

My regular trade
is driving a cab.

This is Berkowitz's stand.

I never knew Berkowitz
had an Italian brother-in-law.

It happens in the
best of families, lady.

Come on, Barbara.

Hey, potatoes,
tomatoes, cucumbers!

Monroe Street,
across from Little Joe's.

September 23rd, 1932.

On this evening,

the meeting which had
been carefully arranged

for Barbara Ritchie took place.

I'm glad you met
me, Mrs. Ritchie.

We'll be there in a minute.

Where you taking me?

To the man who knows
who killed your husband.

That's what you told me
this afternoon. Where is he?

In the Federal Building.

Federal Building?

You're a cop, aren't you?

Not exactly. I'm with...

Listen, if you cops
wanna talk to me so bad,

why don't you try
something else?

You could always
have me arrested

for double-parking or something.

Please understand, Mrs. Ritchie,
we're only trying to help you.

Look, stop wasting my time.

I don't wanna have
anything to do with cops.

Just stop the car and
let me off right here.

Look, we're almost there.
Mr. Ness is waiting for us.

Mr. Ness?

Eliot Ness?

Yes.

Keep goin'.

This is one cop I wanna meet.

I've wanted to meet
him for some time.

Good evening, Mrs. Ritchie.

You're Ness, aren't you?

And this is Martin Flaherty.

We've met.

Yeah.

Won't you sit down?

I'll stand.

Cigarette?

He sells me tomatoes
and you offer me cigarettes.

What are you after?

We need help.

From me?

From you.

We're trying to find
the man responsible

for your husband's death.

I'm looking at him. It was you.

You pushed him too far.

If it wasn't for you,
Georgie'd be alive today.

We had to get Capone.

So you spent
Georgie like a nickel.

His life was part of the price.

One of our own
men died with him.

A good man named Joe Fuselli.

And you got Capone.

And now we wanna
get the rest of them.

Well, I'm not a
nickel, Mr. Ness.

You don't spend me
the way you did Georgie.

You must have
loved him very much.

You bet your life, I did.

Quite a change, Mrs. Ritchie.

From a professional stripper
to a professional widow.

Why you dirty, lousy cop!

All decked out in mourning
clothes and self-pity,

spending the rest of your
life putting flowers on a grave.

Listen, Georgie was the
only thing I ever cared about.

Did he know that? No.

Thanks to you, he was killed

before I could
tell him about it.

And now he's dead
and you still can't tell him.

They don't send telegrams
to the cemetery, do they?

You're using the
wrong weapon, Barbara.

Try this. Exhibit A.

That's what they
used on your husband.

And the men who did
the job are still around.

What do you want from me?

You know as much
about them as I do.

I want you to help me find them.

I can't. I don't know anything...
We're looking for a book.

A record of the safety-deposit
boxes that hold Capone's money.

I tell you, I don't
know anything.

Your uncle is Capone's
bookkeeper, Barbara.

He makes all the entries,
keeps all the scores,

including the details
of every killing.

Uncle Jake doesn't
know anything about the...

He paid the killer.
He's the bookkeeper.

He keeps books.
We want that book.

I don't believe it.

Then help us find that book.

You'll have all the
proof you need.

I know what you're
thinking. It's dangerous.

They might kill you as
slowly as they killed Ritchie.

We'll give you all
the protection we can.

Why should I trust you?

Because there's nobody
else you can trust.

Hey, Jack.

Take over for me, will you?

Somebody just give
me a hot tip on a horse

and I wanna phone
a bet in, huh? Okay?

Is, uh, Jake Guzik there?

Now, you won't forget
me, will you, Mr. Guzik?

After all, a tip should be
worth something, huh?

Yeah, it's worth something.
I'll take care of you.

Give me Wabash 1098.

Mr. D'Andrea's office.

I wanna speak to D'Andrea.
This is Guzik calling.

It's Mr. Guzik.

Hello, Jake.

Phil.

I want you to meet me in
front of my house, right away.

Something up?

I'm not sure.

But we're gonna find out.

In a candy store
opposite the Guzik home,

William Youngfellow
stood by, ready to report

the first hint of
trouble to Eliot Ness.

Ness speaking.

Mr. Ness, this is Youngfellow.

Barbara just came home.
Something's going on.

Guzik arrived
just before she did

and is sitting in his car.

After she went in the house,
Phil D'Andrea showed up.

Now he's sitting
with Guzik in his car.

I don't like that.

Bill, stick close. I'm
coming right over.

Barbara. You scared me.

What are you doing?
I'm looking for something.

It's important.

You know how Jake feels
about our staying out of his room.

What's... What's so
important? I've gotta find a book.

It might have the name of the
man who killed Georgie in it.

What's the matter with you?
Jake is just a plain bookkeeper.

But books about
murder he don't keep.

Oh, you've gotta help me.

I'll go out of my
mind if I don't find out.

Mr. Ness says there's a
book, it has all the records in it.

If you know where it
is, you gotta help me,

you just got to.

Of course she knows.

Tell her, Norma dear.

My loving sister
and my loving niece,

a real nice picture.

Jake, please,
it isn't her fault.

Of course not. She
collects books for a hobby.

Jake, you know how she's
been since Georgie was killed.

Georgie, Georgie. You
know something, ladies?

I got it up to here
with that Georgie.

He was a crummy
little stool-pigeon,

and he got just what
was coming to him.

Do you hear me, Brandy?

He got just what
was coming to him,

and that's what you're gonna get

if you keep playing
around with that Eliot Ness.

You killed him.

You killed him.

I don't kill people.

That's the difference between
the punks and important people.

The important
ones give the orders,

and the punks do the killing.

You're a murderer.

I've been living
in the same house

with a lousy, crummy murderer.

Get her out of here, Phil.

Take care of her slowly,

like I had you take care
of her beloved Georgie.

Watch it, Jake!

Don't shoot. Don't
shoot. I got no gun.

I-I'm wounded.

Look.

I'm... I'm bleeding.

I'm bleeding.

I-I'm bleeding.
I'm bleeding, look.

Norma Guzik,

upon learning the extent
of her brother's involvement

and the importance of the
book to the Untouchables,

cooperated fully in leading
them to its hiding place.

A place Jake Guzik thought
no one would ever suspect:

Ritchie's mausoleum.

Carefully secreted behind
George Ritchie's headstone

was Jake Guzik's complete record

of Capone's huge cash reserves,

safety-deposit box locations,

a description of the
immense financial empire,

which Jake Guzik
had hidden for Capone.

Is that what you
wanted, Mr. Ness?

It's in code.

Code?

It's Polish backwards.

Everything in his whole
life he did backwards.

Too many people
have the same problem.

A quiet day. Sunlight.

Peace for Barbara Ritchie,

the bittersweet of revenge.

For Eliot Ness and
the Untouchables,

the same quiet between
one job and the next.

For Ness knew that
even though Jake Guzik

was headed for federal prison,

other men in the
shadow of Chicago,

more vicious and more
subtle, were waiting

to take Al Capone's empty chair.