Original subtitles

You can go and whistle for your names, see,

because I ain't going to give you nothing.

If you want to throw your life away

just to cause me a little inconvenience...

that's your privilege.

All right.

I'll negotiate.

Call Nitti.

Tell him Mungo talks to the top

or he don't talk to nobody.

Mungo talks to me...

or he doesn't talk to anyone ever.

Tonight's episode...

Starring Robert Stack as Eliot Ness.

Co-starring Paul Richards, Mike Kellin,

Bruce Gordon.

And narrated by Walter Winchell.

The most violent era in the history of America.

Chicago, exploding with crime.

New York, a city of terror.

Saint Louis, Detroit,

New Orleans, Kansas City.

In almost every big town across the country,

corruption and violence were reaching an all-time high.

The outstanding exception, an Eastern Seaboard metropolis,

which even now must remain unnamed.

A city which had used the ballot box

to blast corruption out of public office.

Federal Agent Arnold Weybright had managed

to keep the bloody finger of organized crime

out of the city without a name.

But, at 9:42 a.m., October 22...

The following morning, Eliot Ness and the Untouchables

arrived in town to question Gilbert Burke,

assistant to the slain federal agent.

Anything about the shooting that sticks in your mind?

No.

Except...

whoever was driving took that corner like a pro.

You figure Mungo was behind it, huh?

It was Mungo all right.

He offered us a packet

to look the other way.

Weybright threw him out.

Mr. Ness, please.

The man needs his rest.

Thanks, Burke.

We'll do everything we can.

This is going to be rough.

No faces, no license numbers, nothing.

Except the man who drove the getaway car was a pro.

That's not much to go on.

It's a place to start.

Suppose he was from out of town.

I'm trying hard not to think about that.

Mungo?

Got to be.

He's been there over a year now.

Took him a long time to make the move.

I've been waiting for this.

But you're not going to try to make your move now.

Why not? Mungo's done all the spade work.

But the town will be on fire.

The first time we rough somebody up,

the feds will hit us with everything they got.

Twice before, we tried to take over with muscle,

and it didn't work, right?

Suppose we don't rough anybody up.

Suppose we send somebody in there

who can beat them to death with a pillow.

Who you got in mind?

A gambler who took over three of the biggest clubs

in this town without firing a shot

from men as tough as Carlyle and Williams.

That's the kind of talent you guys don't seem to have.

Who?

Sebastian.

$1,000.

Mr. Dealer?

I quit.

You know better than that.

The game's over.

You cleaned us out.

What difference does it make?

It's a matter of principle.

Mister, I'm going to see those cards.

Hold it!

How much did he win?

How much?!

$27,000.

Frank, you never saw anything like it.

Shut up and get him his money.

That won't be necessary, Mr. Nitti.

See, this wasn't a poker game at all.

It was more of a sleight of hand contest.

I've had a little more experience than Willie.

Come on, beat it, beat it.

You're pretty sure of yourself.

You made the rules for this test, Mr. Nitti.

You annoyed because I passed?

You know everybody?

Not formally.

The faces are familiar.

That's good enough.

You ever heard of a guy called Mungo?

He's a gambler, a good one.

You ever play against him?

No.

How would you like the chance?

Now, that's... that's a loaded question.

What's my cut of the pot?

Ten percent of his territory.

All you got to do is persuade Mungo

to hand over his protection,

his payoffs at city hall.

Once we get our hands on those names,

we take it from there.

How much time would I have?

The way you work,

it shouldn't take you more than a few days.

A few days?

Oh, I see.

You expect me to walk in

and have Mungo hand me the town on a silver platter.

Well, why not?

Ain't that what happened with Carlyle and Williams?

Why should Mungo be any tougher than they were?

You, uh, always drive this hard a bargain?

What's so hard?

Ten percent of our net

is 100 times what you're making now.

Yeah, that's true.

What if I refuse?

Don't.

For the next 24 hours, Eliot Ness and the Untouchables

conducted an intensive interrogation.

Their purpose: to identify the driver

of the Weybright murder car.

Their questioning of underworld mobsters

yielded three names: Jimmy Swales, a taxi driver,

George Gibney, a bouncer at the Flora Dora Club,

and Arnie Falken, a mechanic at the City Garage.

Send him in. All right, sir.

We've got a visitor.

Who?

The man who killed Arnold Weybright.

Mr. Ness?

I'm Ness.

My name is Lou Mungo.

This is my lawyer, Mr. Symes.

Can we sit?

You've been in town four days now, Ness,

and all that time, you've been asking questions about me,

so I figured I could save you a lot of trouble.

What I am, Ness... I'm a respectable citizen.

I got an honest income.

I pay my taxes, and I can account

for every nickel I got in the bank.

"Lou Mungo, alias Louis Mendez, alias Arthur Regent.

"Suspicion of grand larceny,

"manslaughter, assault with a deadly weapon,

"suspicion of murder, three counts."

Just like you said, "a respectable citizen."

You, uh, missed two important factors, Mr. Ness.

There were no convictions on any of those charges,

and they were all filed against Mr. Mungo

in New York City.

Oh, the police in that town.

Did they roust me, huh?

I couldn't even blow my nose

without getting arrested.

Somebody lost their dog... Pick up Lou Mungo.

That's why you came here, huh?

That's why I came here.

Like I told you before...

You're a respectable citizen.

And a killer.

That's an irresponsible allegation, Mr. Ness.

Irresponsible and dangerous.

You have no right to assume that my client

is anything but what he claims to be.

Which is a garage owner.

Lee?

What's the name of this place of yours?

The, um... City Garage.

127 East 48th Street?

Yeah.

However, it covers the whole block.

That's all, Mungo.

That's all?

You mean I'm through?

Just about.

October 25, 1933.

En route to the city, an eastbound express

carried Frank Nitti's representative, Sebastian.

With him, assigned as his watchdog,

was triggerman Nick Vascovitch.

I don't get you, Mr. Sebastian.

Nitti tells you to tie a ribbon around Mungo's territory,

and you sit there working on a crossword puzzle.

Well, with a one week deadline, I haven't got time

for anything but a bluff and a prayer.

You got to have something to bluff with.

Two names, Nick.

Two names on a slip of paper.

They could buy us everything.

We're looking for Arnie Falken.

I'm Falken.

How long have you worked for Lou Mungo?

Ten months.

Doing what?

I'm a mechanic.

What do I look like?

You're also a wheelman.

Who says so?

We do.

You're whistling in the dark.

You ought to be more careful

where you ditch your cars, Falken.

Ditch what cars?

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

By the time we're done with it, we'll know everywhere

it's been from the day it left the factory.

You play ball with us, Falken, we could make it

a lot easier for you when we nail Mungo.

What for?

For the murder of a federal agent.

Look, I told you I'm a mechanic.

Now, leave me alone, will you?

Don't leave town.

I'll be talking to you later.

Come in, gentlemen.

We, uh, got word that we could pick up a hundred Gs

by knocking on this door.

Sit down... gentlemen.

What's the pitch?

Well, the pitch is this.

Uh, we're taking over this city.

Who's we?

Uh, Chicago.

Well, there's a guy by the name of Mungo

who ain't gonna like your plan.

Uh, well, the guy by the name of Mungo

isn't gonna have much choice.

Who are you?

My name is Sebastian.

You're a hotshot with the paste boards.

What do you know about taking over a town?

Enough. I mean, I know, for instance,

that you two boys knocked off a federal officer

by the name of Arnold Weybright.

Sit down.

Down.

What makes you think we had anything to do with that job?

Gentlemen, knowledge is power.

Now, I find it valuable to know things,

and I pay extremely well for my information.

So you got a long nose.

How come you sniff around us?

I want a confession.

You've got to be kidding.

No, no.

Just don't jump to conclusions.

The only one who will ever see it is Lou Mungo,

the man who ordered the Weybright murder.

Look, I can see where you're going,

but you're playing with dynamite.

I know Lou Mungo, and he'll kill all of us.

No, he won't. No.

Not when I show him a Photostat of this confession

in which he bears full responsibility

for the murder of a federal officer.

A confession whose original will be sent to the police

in case anything happens to either of you... or to me.

Suppose we don't sign it?

Well...

I can't force you to sign it, of course.

But here's $100,000 for each of you if you do.

I think that's a fair price

for a couple of signatures, don't you?

Look, I don't know about him,

but, for me, it ain't enough.

Money's no good when you have to look over your shoulder

every time you want to spend it.

There's a freighter called the Orange Star

tied up at Pier 16.

She leaves in exactly...

one hour and 42 minutes... for Rio.

Going for a swim, Mr. Falken?

What are you looking for, a car?

Don't bother.

He led us to the car.

That's what we want now.

Yeah?

Oh, hello, Nick. How's it going?

Frank, I can't hardly believe it.

We've been here only a few hours,

and I figure he's got Mungo all wrapped up.

How?

Same way he must have gotten to Carlyle and Williams.

Blackmail.

Where's he getting his information?

Well, it beats me, Frank.

But he knew the names

of the guys who did the Weybright job.

They just left the hotel.

Sebastian paid 'em to sign a confession

saying Mungo planned it.

Well, it's a bluff, but if it works,

it means he's bought this whole stinking town for 200 grand.

Don't let it go to your head, Nick.

We bought New York from the Indians for a lot less.

When do you see Mungo?

Tonight.

Now, if everything goes all right, I figure, uh,

we'll have this town locked up in 24 hours.

Listen, Nick,

if it works out, bring him back here.

Bring him back tomorrow.

Anything you say, Frank.

What are you doing here?

Ness come to the garage this afternoon

when you wasn't here.

He knew where the car is ditched.

Did you go to the pier, huh?

Lou, I had to make sure. Why?

Why'd you have to make sure?

My fingerprints is all over that... Shut up!

If he knew, he knew.

If he didn't know, you led him right to it!

My fingerprints, Lou! Get out of town tonight!

No, I can't. Why?

I'm out of junk!

All right, hophead, Blinky'll bring you some.

When? Tomorrow night.

Tomorrow night. Lou, I'll be climbing the walls by then!

That's your problem.

Just keep out of sight.

Yeah. Yeah, sure, Lou.

Call Blinky tomorrow.

He'll see you get some.

Take this to the newsstand

on the corner of Fifth and Carson.

The vendor comes on around noon.

Do I, uh, wait for an answer?

You wait for the junk.

It'll take him a while to get it.

Okay.

Blinky?

What are you doing here?

Blinky, I got to have a fix!

I got to have one!

You heard what the boss said.

I can't hold out till tomorrow.

Really, really I can't.

You could have one here in half an hour.

Just one to tide me over.

I could wait here for you till you got back.

Like the boss says, you call me tomorrow.

I'll get the stuff.

I'll meet you at Funland.

I warned you not to kill Weybright,

but you wouldn't listen.

Now you let a man you should have killed,

a frightened addict who could hang us all,

walk away without a scratch.

I had to kill Weybright. Oh, so you had...

With him in the picture,

my clubs will close as fast as they opened.

Now you've got Ness on your back, huh?

He ain't gonna be there forever. Huh?

When he keeps coming up with goose eggs,

they're gonna ship him right back to Chicago,

and when he goes back, we're in business.

Hey?

Hey?!

Just-Just... relax.

I tell you, there is nothing to worry about.

Not a thing in the...

Mr. Mungo?

Yeah?

My name is Sebastian.

I'm from Chicago.

I think you and I have a little business to discuss.

And now, back to The Untouchables.

You lousy punk!

You are entitled to that, but don't push your luck.

You think I'm gonna sit still for this?

I don't think you have any choice.

You mean, either I give up everything I worked for,

or you're gonna turn this over to the feds, is that it?

Now, nobody said we were going to take everything.

In fact, we may let you keep your clubs,

as long as we get our cut.

Oh, you went to all this trouble

just to get a piece of my action, huh?

Don't make me laugh.

No, no.

That's not quite what we meant.

We do want more than, uh...

more than a piece of your action.

I thought so.

We want the names of the people you've been able to buy.

We want your protection.

I see.

You're gonna start with the protection,

and then you go on from there.

The bookies, the girls, the dope, the booze.

Like Chicago, huh?!

Like Chicago.

Everything under one roof.

One big happy family.

And everybody has to play by Capone's rules, huh?

Well, yes.

Um, that's kind of the way it's stacked.

All right, punk,

I'm gonna tell you something.

You can go and whistle for your names, see?

Because I ain't gonna give you nothing!

No? No.

Maybe you'd better read the confession again.

That confession ain't worth a nickel.

If you turn me into the feds,

I am going to give them the names

of everybody I ever paid off, see?

And every last one of 'em will be indicted, see?

Then how you gonna take over this town, huh?

Same way you did...

Find the contacts and pay them off.

They'll be in jail.

Well, the ones you found, yeah,

but there'll be others.

There always are.

Well, it'll be a lot tougher for you.

It took me a full year without any heat.

How long do you figure it's gonna take you?

Well, now, I've got all the time in the world,

so if you want to throw your life away

just to cause me a little inconvenience,

that's your privilege.

All right, I'll negotiate.

But not with no messenger boy.

Here, call up Nitti and tell him Mungo talks to the top,

or he don't talk to nobody.

Mungo talks to me...

or he doesn't talk to anyone... ever.

I need some time to talk to my contacts.

24 hours.

We'll be back tomorrow at the same time.

From where I sit,

you're in the driver's seat, Mr. Sebastian.

You know, with any luck at all, this whole town could be ours.

Ours?

I've been doing some thinking, Mr. Sebastian.

You have?

Mm-hmm.

Chicago's a long way from here.

Go on.

If you was to decide

you could run this town without Frank Nitti,

I don't think there's too much he could do about that.

Well, Mr. Nitti already foresaw that possibility, Nick.

That's why he sent you along.

He pays me 500 bucks a week, Mr. Sebastian, 500 bucks a week.

A split of a town this size could net me...

a hundred grand a month, no problem at all.

Well, there's one problem.

You told Frank you'd be coming back tomorrow with me.

All right, I'll, uh, I'll stall for time.

I'll, uh...

I'll tell him Mungo can't reach some of his contacts...

It'll take a few more days.

Nick, you know, it seems

that both Mr. Nitti and I underestimated you.

One advantage to my job, Mr. Sebastian...

Nobody figures a hatchet man can think.

What do you mean we got hung up?

Ran into a little trouble, Frank.

What kind of trouble?

Mungo... he can't reach some of his contacts.

They're, uh, out on vacation,

so we, we can't wind things up till they get back.

When is that going to be?

Well, he says a week.

Ten days at the most.

That's a long time for something

that was going to be in the bag last night.

Well, we're doing everything we can, Frank.

It ain't our fault the guys ain't here.

Okay, okay, I'll leave it to you, Nick.

Keep in touch, huh?

Yeah, Frank, sure.

I'll, uh, I'll let you know the minute we get the word.

That's him, all right... Nick Vascovitch.

Nitti's gun is Sebastian.

What do you suppose they could be cooking up with Mungo?

It doesn't make sense.

Sebastian's never been tied to the Nitti organization.

He's a gambler.

So is Mungo.

Set a thief to catch a thief, huh?

Maybe.

I don't know.

It still doesn't add up, Eliot.

Why would Nitti try to move in now?

The whole town's up in arms over Weybright's death.

That could be it.

Maybe Nitti's trying to sneak in the back door

while we're banging at the front.

Well, shall we pick them up?

We've got nothing to hold them on.

If Chicago is setting up a power play,

we've got to block it.

Yeah, but how?

Sir, the captain sent me down

to tell you that they raised the car.

Any fingerprints?

No, sir, they haven't worked on that yet, sir,

but the captain thought you might as well check on these.

They found them in the backseat of the car.

What's this?

We found those in the car

we pulled out of the harbor this morning.

I don't know why you're bringing 'em to me.

There are fingerprints on the car, Mungo,

that belong to a man named Arnie Falken.

He works for you.

That's right.

He's a mechanic.

His fingerprints are on almost every car

that goes in and out of my garage.

You'll have to do better than that, Ness.

I'll do a lot better.

The backseat of this car was littered

with empty machine gun shells...

The same caliber as those that killed Arnold Weybright.

The car, Mungo, was registered to you.

I see.

Was this by any chance a black '31 sedan?

That's right. Uh-huh.

If you'll check the records of the local police,

I think you'll find that I reported that car stolen

three days before Weybright was killed.

You thought of everything, didn't you?

It looks to me like the man you want is Arnie Falken.

Falken didn't show up for work this morning,

didn't go home last night.

Does that surprise you, Mungo?

Yeah.

He was in my office last night.

His clothes were all wet like he was in swimming.

He seemed upset about something.

Said he was quitting and wanted his back pay.

Did you pay him?

Uh-uh.

Told him my bookkeeper would make out the check.

Falken's leaving town.

He said he'd wire where to send it.

Don't make that check out yet, Mungo.

We found him once, we'll find him again.

Good luck, Ness.

You got a lot of nerve, Mungo.

You got the federal government on one side of you,

Frank Nitti's boys on the other.

You could get squeezed.

Give my regards to Sebastian.

I ain't shaky enough,

you got to meet me on a "roll-y" coaster.

Did you bring the stuff?

Oh, no.

No, Blinky, no, I...

We talked to six people on the car.

Nobody saw a thing.

How many tickets were sold for that ride?

Eight.

I guess number seven was our friend here.

Number eight was a friend of Lou Mungo's, that's for sure.

Here are his personal effects, Eliot.

The usual stuff... A laundry ticket,

a pawn ticket, a movie stub.

The only link we had to the Weybright killing.

Mungo gets rid of him.

Just happened to be in the neighborhood.

Well, make yourself at home.

Nick ought to be here any minute.

Oh, that's one of the things I want to talk to you about.

Nick won't be around anymore.

He had an accident.

An accident?

He was taking a bath and he,

he touched an electric light switch.

It, it killed him... just like that.

It could happen to anyone.

Yeah, yeah.

Of course, Nick, uh, Nick was inclined to be careless.

Now, that's what I thought.

One day he calls me up

and he says the town will be wrapped up in 24 hours.

The next day he says, "We got hung up."

Now, the only "we" in this move, Sebastian, is you and me.

Naturally.

So I was wondering...

what's your idea how long it's going to take?

Well, now, I'm supposed to see Mungo tonight,

and I figure I should have this whole thing wrapped up around...

11:00 tomorrow morning.

Make it noon.

I don't want to rush you.

Oh, Mr. Nitti.

Our deal, uh... it's still on?

You're a smart man, Sebastian.

You don't go to pieces under pressure.

I can use a smart man

if he's learned anything from experience.

And if he delivers.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Oh, you'd better find another place to live.

That "Do Not Disturb" sign on Nick's door

ain't going to keep people out forever.

10:45 P.M., November 2, 1933.

Agent Hobson's checkout of the pawn ticket

found on the body of Arnie Falken

turned up an expensive gold cigarette case.

An inscription inside had been crudely filed off.

"To Scotty.

"From his friends in the seventh ward.

September 1928."

Let's check the newspapers; maybe they covered it.

You're two hours early.

Well, there's no use postponing the inevitable,

now, is there?

Sit down.

Come on, the names.

Wait a minute.

Now, listen.

I spent over a year developing this town

because I knew once I got hold of it,

I could keep the organization out.

I mean, nobody's going to make a fuss about a little booze,

a little gambling

once the noise over Weybright dies down.

What's your point?

My point... my point... is:

we could still keep the organization out.

We could split this town right down the middle.

Look, I've just been down that road and it's no deal.

So come on, the names... Your City Hall contacts.

Come on.

There's your top man.

What about the rest of 'em?

He goes, they all go.

I'll be back here right after I talk to him.

Mr. Symes.

Where you been?

Circulating.

I, uh, picked up a bit of news that might interest you.

Spit it out.

Frank Nitti's in town with some of his boys.

Nitti?

Uh-huh.

Not only is he in town, but he's seen Sebastian.

Nitti is in town...

and Sebastian shows up here two hours early.

Why, that lousy punk.

He's been under the gun all this time.

He hasn't got a year to open up this town.

He's got a day or a week or a month.

He's got a deadline,

and I'll lay you 50 to one

that that's why Nitti is in town,

and all I had to do was to call that lousy punk's bluff.

Yeah.

There is one trouble with instinct.

It is never quite able to cope with the improbable.

You shut up.

Listen.

This game ain't over yet.

Oh, perhaps not, but at the moment,

it looks like Mr. Sebastian holds all the cards.

Yeah?

That's 'cause he dealt the hand.

Let's just see what happens when I cut the deck.

Commissioner Bodeen?

Yes.

My name is Carruthers.

Your name is Sebastian

and you represent Mr. Nitti.

How do you know that?

I got a telephone call 20 minutes ago from Mungo.

He told me to expect you.

He did.

Well, Mr. Commissioner, it looks like you have a choice to make.

Mungo or Mr. Nitti.

I have no choice.

Mungo threatened my family if I made a deal with you.

I'll give you 10 times what he's paying you.

I've got to go along with Mungo.

He threatened my family.

Don't you understand?

Yes, I understand.

But what makes you think your family will be safe

if you don't cooperate with us?

Lee.

Here it is.

"F. Scott Bodeen Feted at Testimonial Dinner.

"Scott Bodeen, known as Scotty to his intimates,

"was feted last night at a testimonial dinner

"given by a large group of friends and constituents.

"The highlight of the occasion was a presentation

"of several gifts to Mr. Bodeen

as a token of his friends' esteem."

It's all right, I'll get it.

Commissioner Bodeen?

What do you want with him?

Just the answers to a few questions.

He's not at home.

I think you better talk to us, Mr. Bodeen.

We're Federal Officers.

Well, punk.

Come here.

You pulled a good bluff and you got called, eh?

Uh, Commissioner Bodeen.

Oh, yeah.

Well, it's what they call, uh,

a Mexican stand off, isn't it?

I can't kill you because you got that confession,

and you can't kill me because my contacts

won't make a move till I give them the word.

And I think our friend Nitti is getting impatient.

Somebody has got to give.

I can't.

I won't.

That means nobody wins, and we both lose.

Any suggestions?

Maybe.

Yeah, maybe.

Mungo...

Mungo, they tell me that you're, uh,

quite a gambler.

Is that right?

So?

So, one cut of the cards.

I put up the confession.

The original.

Ah!

Into the pot.

And you ante up your list of contacts.

Winner takes all.

What do you say?

I, uh, I have a deck of cards. No.

We'll use a brand new deck.

You realize what we're playing for, don't you?

It's my life against yours.

Now, if I lose, uh, Mr. Nitti has plans for me.

And if you lose, well, it's the chair.

Go ahead, draw.

Oh, you're the house.

You draw first.

Oh, that's too bad.

Three of diamonds, eh?

Well, let me see, now,

there are 52 cards in the deck.

Come on, draw.

Oh, please, Mungo,

you're not going to deny me the chance

to approach this thing scientifically, are you?

Now, there are 52 cards in the deck and you drew

a three.

That means, there are only four cards

in there that can beat me, right?

Four deuces.

Draw a card, will ya?

Oh, of course, I could draw

one of the remaining threes in the deck

and that would take you off the hook.

Well, there are still those 44 other cards that...

are winning cards.

Now, that means the odds are 44 to four against you.

11 to one in my favor.

Look, punk!

I drew my card, are you gonna draw yours?!

Of course.

Okay, now, that's your card, right?

Well, I think so.

Well, come on, turn it over.

Well, I-I just can't be sure, Mungo.

Are you gonna turn up that card?

Well, Mungo, now, what do you think, really?

You lousy punk!

Open up!

Mungo, open up!

♪ ♪

Let's take a look around.

Our friend may still be with us.

The syndicate threat,

which started in Chicago 12 days before,

ended in flames on November 4th, 1933.

With the power play blocked,

Eliot Ness and the Untouchables returned home.

The Untouchables!