Original subtitles

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.