Original subtitles

(theme music plays)

WALTER WINCHELL: During the blistering summer of 1931,

the work of Eliot Ness and his Untouchables was divided

into seemingly never-ending days

spent on the unbearably hot pavements of Chicago

tracking down illicit whiskey,

and seemingly never-ending nights

immersed in the paperwork connected with their activity.

(knock at door)

Hello, Jim.

Morning, Lee, Eliot.

Well, Captain Johnson.

It's refreshing to see federal officers aren't the only ones

working around the clock.

Well, I'm not exactly working.

What's wrong?

We set out a net tonight and scooped up about 50 addicts.

We put them into a sifter

and sent the really sick ones to a hospital.

We're holding the rest for questioning.

And?

One of the healthy ones is my son.

Buz?

What do you want me to do, Jim?

The boy's gotta be questioned before he can be released.

I can't do it, and I don't want any of my men to do it.

I... thought maybe you...

Of course, I will.

Where is he?

73rd District.

Let's go.

It's funny how you can grow old

just like that.

ANNOUNCER:

"The Jazz Man."

Starring Robert Stack as Eliot Ness.

Co-starring Simon Oakland,

Robert Emhardt,

and Jacqueline Scott.

Narrated by Walter Winchell.

Hello, Buz.

Hello, Mr. Ness.

Does my father know?

What do you think?

(gasping)

I'm gonna stop.

Honest.

I believe you, Buz.

I believe all the vows made behind prison bars.

I made such a mess.

How long are they gonna keep me in here?

After you answer a few questions, you can go home.

Where'd you get the narcotics?

From a guy named Peepers.

How'd you get it?

Cigarette form, powder form?

Powder.

How much did it cost?

Ten dollars a pack.

How much powder in the packet?

Enough for four or five fixes.

That's all, Buz.

Guard.

You'll be released in a few minutes.

Mr. Ness?

I promise I'm going to kick it.

I promise.

Sure you will.

(door clanging open)

How is he?

He's upset. He needs you, Jim.

Yeah.

He evidently needed me long before this, too,

but I've been too busy enforcing the law.

We've all got jobs to do, Jim. We've all got families.

Nobody promised any of us a bed of roses

when we raised our right hands.

Well, I guess I better sign the boy's release and get him home.

Thanks, Eliot.

Good night, Jim.

What did the boy have to say?

Plenty. Peepers is back in action.

"Peepers"?

He only operates first-class when there's a big supply.

There is a big supply. The boy was getting powder,

and for five pops at $10 a packet.

What's the idea of hooking a cop's kid, Peepers?

(Peepers chuckles)

Uh, well, wishers can't be choosers, Sal.

Well, you better get choosey.

I don't want those cops being any madder than they have to be.

There's no such thing as getting them madder.

With junkies, they're as mad as they can get.

And every once in awhile, you hear about a cop

who makes a deal with a bootlegger or a house.

Never with junkies.

No, we sell garbage, Sal,

and that's the way we're treated.

I know what we're selling. I just don't want you to...

Now, look,

I'll handle my end of the business and you handle yours.

You're not the only pusher in this city.

(chuckles)

I know, but I'm the only one

that the cops and the feds haven't been able to lock up.

That's why you came to me.

You watch your step, Peepers.

I'd rather take my chances on being caught

than doing business with someone who don't listen to me.

Understand?

You're talking English, aren't you?

Next, I'm raising the price.

Uh, now, uh...

don't get too greedy too quick.

Let's just let our customers get good and hooked,

really craving it,

then we'll squeeze them.

When will that be?

Eh, another couple of weeks at bargain prices,

then we'll call off the sale.

All right.

I'm outta stuff. When's the next shipment?

It's coming to the Viking Hotel on Friday.

Anything else?

No.

Let's go.

WINCHELL: Four nights later,

Lee Hobson traced Peepers to the Viking Hotel

on the South Side of Chicago.

Where is he?

He's on the second floor.

What room?

I don't know. What do you suppose he's doing here?

It's a cinch Mr. Big doesn't live here.

The least we can hope for is he's making a pick-up.

We'll soon know.

(door opening)

Peepers, hold it!

You may have gotten me this time, Ness,

but you're still not gonna lock me up.

Lee, call the morgue.

We've got a pick-up for you, Viking Hotel, second floor.

Anything?

Peepers didn't live here.

Artie Tresh.

Club 88.

A jazz joint over on Randall.

Let's go.

(knock at door)

We're closed.

NESS: Open it up.

I said we're closed!

Hey, wait...

Federal officers.

Well, that badge don't mean nothing.

You need a warrant to come busting in here.

You got a warrant?

Every crumb knows about a warrant.

Even the crumbs who can't read and write know about a warrant.

I can read and write.

Where's the owner of this place?

I don't know.

I haven't got time to play games. Where is he?

I said I don't know!

(door opening)

What's all the noise about, Wally?

Feds! With a warrant.

Well, what's on your mind, mister?

You own this place?

Yes. Sal Rudin is my name.

Duly licensed by the city and county to operate a restaurant.

Well?

You know a bass violin player named Artie Tresh?

Sure. Is that what you want to talk to me about?

That's right.

I want to apologize for my boys.

I hope they didn't cause you too much trouble.

Now, I've told you before...

All right, Rudin, we can do without the act.

What do you mean, "act"?

I-I got nothing to hide.

What do you sell here, buttermilk?

What do you want to know about Artie?

Does he work for you?

Yes, he did up to yesterday.

What happened yesterday?

I found out he was playing more than a bass fiddle.

I found out he was playing around with my wife, too.

Hey, you better hurry up and find him

if you want to talk to him.

He's leaving for New Orleans tomorrow night.

How do you know?

Well, I got him a booking in a friend-of-mine's club.

It starts Friday week.

You've done a lot for a man

who's playing around with your wife.

You bet I did.

I not only got him the booking,

but I got him his train ticket, too.

Cheap at half the price

to get all that mileage between him and Eleanor.

Yeah.

If you like great jazz, drop in some time.

We've got a terrific organization.

Only next time, use the front door.

Want to get back to the hotel and pick up Tresh?

I don't want to pick him up yet, Lee.

Why not?

Peepers wasn't in Tresh's room for a jam session tonight.

He picked up the narcotics there.

That's right, but Peepers is dead and Tresh is our only lead.

I want to leave him free so he can't make contacts.

Well, Tresh will have to make those contacts pretty soon.

When he leaves town tomorrow night,

he'll be out of our hands.

No, he won't.

(steam whistle blowing)

WINCHELL: At 8:09 on the night of August 11, 1931,

Artie Tresh boarded the Magnolia Special

bound for New Orleans.

At 9:25, Tresh finished his dinner

and returned to his compartment.

At 11:14 p.m., as the crack special

roared through a small town in southeastern Illinois,

it suddenly screeched to an abrupt halt.

(engine hissing, machinery clanging)

What happened?

Somebody in this car pulled the emergency cord.

My name's Ness. I'm a federal officer.

Did you pull the emergency?

Open this up, will you?

Sure.

Is he...?

He killed him and used his pillow as a silencer.

Pulled the emergency cord and got off the train.

Where are we how?

Hayesville.

When's the next train to Chicago?

Well, there's a milk train pulls into Hayesville

at 3:30 in the morning.

Gets into Chicago about 9:00.

I'll need some help.

We're getting off here.

WINCHELL: At 9:50 a.m. on August 12,

Ness arrived at the Chicago City Morgue

with the body of Artie Tresh.

Hello, Jim.

I heard you were here. Who have you got?

Musician named Tresh.

Hobson's going to get someone to make a positive I.D.

How's Buz?

Um, not so good.

It's a rough thing for the boy to get out of his system.

The government's going to open a hospital for addicts

in Lexington, Kentucky.

I'm trying to get Buz committed there.

Fine.

An addict?

Well, I'll see you later.

Give my best to the boy, will you?

Yeah, I sure will.

Hello, Jim.

Hello, Lee.

Eliot, this is Mr. Temple.

He played trumpet with Tresh in Baltimore.

Mr. Temple.

That Artie?

That's what we'd like you to tell us.

That's Artie, all right.

I don't know if you got any idea

what's stretched out under that sheet.

Just the greatest, that's all.

There ain't gonna be a bass man like him around for a long time.

Maybe never.

Aw, man, we lost somebody.

We got a gap in the strings five miles wide.

How well did you know him?

As good as anybody, I suppose.

Artie was a loner.

He only talked real close to his bass.

And aw, man, how that bass talked back to him.

Tresh was on his way to New Orleans.

Did he go there often?

Never, at least, not since I've been with him.

It's about a year and a half.

We been doing jobs right here and on the East Coast.

Booked solid.

You see, Artie was down on that Dixieland jive.

Way down.

He once told me that the only thing The South was good for

was to make cotton so you could stuff your ears

and not have to hear that Dixieland jive.

Artie played a different kind of jazz.

Further out.

You know how Montauk Point is the tip of Long Island?

Well, everybody is playing more or less Montauk Point jazz

and Artie was playing way out in the Atlantic Ocean.

You know what I mean?

I think so.

Know where he got his narcotics?

No, sir.

He was a loner on that, too.

You'd never catch Artie at any pot party.

Well, one more thing.

We'd appreciate it if you'd keep

this whole thing quiet for a while, hmm?

You bet.

Consider my horn shut down.

Thanks, Mr. Temple.

You've been a big help.

Would you mind if I played something?

Don't seem hardly right to ship Artie off

without some music.

Go ahead.

Well, what now?

A year and a half since he's been to New Orleans.

(wailing jazz trumpet)

Yeah, if that's true, the stuff Peepers had

couldn't have been brought up from New Orleans by Tresh.

That's right.

Where do you suppose he got it? East Coast?

Could be.

You know, from past experience no one's been able

to figure a foolproof method of delivery.

Could have been done in stages.

Lee, I'm going to take Tresh's place in New Orleans.

Take his place?

You heard Temple.

Tresh was a very special kind of musician

who's been playing up north for at least a year and a half.

Chances are pretty good no one down south knew him personally.

Well, somebody knew him, but good.

That somebody could be in New Orleans.

That's what I'm going to find out.

I don't like it.

What else have we got?

Tresh was our only lead. He still is.

Look, Tresh is supposed to start his engagement Friday.

Now, until then, you could probably fool the musicians,

but you couldn't fool the narcotics operators.

They know Tresh is dead.

Yeah, that's true.

It should start something.

(wailing trumpet continues)

This fellow, Tresh,

he must have been quite a guy.

Where'd you get those?

In his wallet.

Any help?

I don't know. They may mean something.

One's a violin maker. and the other,

a New Orleans booking agent.

Hi, honey. What can I do for you?

The name's Artie Tresh. I play bass.

Is Mr. Bogan in?

Sorry, honey, we don't need any bass players today.

I don't need a job. I got a job.

I'd just like to see Mr. Bogan.

Tell him Artie Tresh is here, will you?

Mr. Bogan?

Yeah.

I got a bass player here.

He says he's working, but he wants to see you anyhow.

What's his name?

Artie Tresh.

Send him in.

Gotcha.

Right through there, Mr. Tresh.

Artie Tresh!

(laughing)

I got a bass out here, she says.

That's the trouble when you hire a secretary

don't know nothing about music.

She goes for crooners.

(laughing): Artie Tresh!

Come on in, sit down.

(groaning about secretary)

Sit down, Artie. Sit down.

Artie Tresh.

You know, I was expecting you yesterday.

Had to stop off in Memphis.

What for?

Southern fried chicken.

(big laugh)

What's the setup down here, Bogie?

Well, I'll tell ya, I'll be handling it.

You were booked out of Chicago,

so I won't be taking a percentage.

Uh-huh, and what's in it for you?

Well, I'll be booking you out

and I'll take a cut from your next date.

Fair enough?

Okay.

Well, I'm just dying to hear you play.

I've only heard you on wax,

but even coming out of a machine,

you make those strings sound like

nothing I've ever heard before.

Oh, boy. You need an advance?

Always.

(chuckling)

All right.

What do you musicians do with your money?

That's my business.

Thanks.

Uh, hey, uh,

you know many people in town?

No.

Well, if you want some company, give me a holler

and we'll go out to dinner.

No thanks. I'm used to doing it solo.

Well, suit yourself.

WINCHELL: Later that evening,

after Ness had checked into a French Quarter hotel

frequented by jazz musicians,

he went directly to Bourbon Street

to the Purple Elephant, the Dixieland jazz club

where Artie Tresh was scheduled to open on the coming Friday.

(woman crooning to smooth Dixieland jazz)

♪ That's what I mean ♪

♪ Creole babies with flashing eyes ♪

♪ Softly whisper with their tender sighs ♪

♪ Stop ♪

♪ Oh, won't you give your lady fair ♪

♪ A little smile ♪

♪ Stop ♪

♪ You bet your life you'll linger there ♪

♪ A little while ♪

♪ There is heaven right here on earth ♪

♪ With those beautiful queens ♪

♪ Way down yonder ♪

♪ In New Orleans. ♪

(cheers, whistles)

I want to talk to the owner.

Hello. I'm Artie Tresh.

Artie Tresh?

How are you? Good to see you!

Hey, Hal!

Hal, this is Artie Tresh.

Hal leads the combo.

Hello.

Hey, you're a little early, ain't you? Like, five days?

I thought I'd get acquainted. You mind?

I don't mind anything, as long as we get one thing straight:

this band plays what I say.

I mean, I heard about you and your kind of music, you know?

I tell you, I wouldn't hire you for nothing!

Now, Phil tells me he's doing a favor for a friend in Chicago.

I'm going to go along with that as long as you keep in step.

You're the boss.

And you better not forget it.

Yeah, well, I think I'll sit down and listen for a while.

Yeah, and, uh, listen good,

because this is all you're going to be playing.

You better stop talking.

You're going to wear your finger out.

So you're Artie Tresh.

That's right.

I'm Mona Shaw.

Pleased to know you. Won't you sit down?

Thank you.

I enjoyed your number.

I didn't.

I don't get much of a kick out of singing anymore.

You, um, you used to know a friend of mine

a long time ago.

I don't suppose you remember.

Maryann Brian, used to play with Douglas Nelson in Baltimore?

Uh, afraid not, no.

She still remembers you.

Is, uh, she in town now?

No, I think she's out on the coast somewhere.

You're starting kind of early, aren't you, Lorna?

He doesn't begin working until Friday.

Don't pay any attention to him, Artie.

I've never given him a tumble, so he's always riding me.

Look, when he begins works,

and when he becomes an official member of the family,

this is different, but like this?

It's like picking up something from the street.

Why don't you leave the lady alone, huh, Hal?

You find the lady, I'll leave her alone.

Take it easy.

Well, of course he's gonna take it easy, baby.

A fiddle player has to protect his hands.

His hot little hands.

Let's cool them off. (laughs loudly)

(screaming)

I'll talk to you and share your company when we're up there.

Take it easy, Hal.

You've been looking for it all night.

-Come on. -Looking for trouble.

I'm, um...

I'm not used to being treated so nice.

Feels good, feels real good.

Sort of knocks a couple of years,

you know what I mean?

Now, I should, um, return the favor

and do something nice for you.

What'll it be?

Some junk.

Wait a minute.

What makes you think that I can put my hands on any of that?

Just answered your own question.

Your hands.

Takes one to catch one, huh?

Can you manage?

(applause)

Do you have a pencil?

This is my address.

Meet me there in an hour.

Thanks.

Hey, Artie, they boys are gonna have a session.

You want to sit in?

Sorry, I only play nowadays when I get paid.

ANNOUNCER: And now, back to The Untouchables.

(doorbell buzzes)

(buzzing continues)

Right on time.

Um, I couldn't get anything.

Is anything wrong?

(chuckling) No.

Nothing's wrong.

I just, uh, I couldn't get any stuff.

Good night.

Look, um,

I don't feel like wrestling.

Neither do I.

I just want to make sure you're all right.

What do you care?

That's my business.

If you don't want me to care,

that's your business.

Hey, you.

What do you want to play in this town for?

There are a whole mess of towns that you could play in.

So, why don't you do yourself a favor?

Why don't you do yourself a real big favor and get out of here?

I mean it.

Lorna...

And stay away from me.

♪♪

(grunts)

(panting)

OPERATOR: Long distance.

Collect long distance, please, Chicago.

Yes, please.

Devon 4655.

(phone rings)

Hello?

I have a collect call

from Mr. Eliot Ness in New Orleans.

Will you accept the charges?

It's Eliot.

Yes. Eliot?

Friend of ours from the Club 88

tried to but my visit short.

One that knows all about warrants.

I want you to keep an eye on Rudin.

Watch him close, huh?

Are you all right?

(sighs) By the skin of my neck.

Where do you stand?

Played my first card today.

A booking agent.

I'll play my last card tomorrow.

Violin maker?

Yeah, the violin maker.

Take care of yourself.

Yeah.

(bell jingles)

Can I help you?

Mr. Reising?

Yeah.

I'm Artie Tresh.

So?

Artie Tresh.

I heard your name the first time, Mr. Tresh.

I thought a friend of mine

might have told you I was coming down here.

What friend?

Oh, just a friend.

I'm a busy man, Mr. Tresh.

Did you wish something from me?

I'm a bass violin player, Mr. Reising.

You want me to make you an instrument?

Maybe.

Well, if you say yes, I will make you an instrument.

If you say no, I will not.

What do I do with a maybe?

I heard you were good.

How good are you?

Mr. Tresh, in Vienna, the musicians used to say

that my violins are so perfectly balanced

that they hang up in midair by themselves.

Feel this.

Well?

Very nice.

How about a bass?

Mr. Tresh,

look at these.

Gagliano, 1762.

Camilli, 1740.

Obichi, 1680.

Alberti, 1751.

They were all masters, Mr. Tresh.

A master string instrument maker

is a master of any string instrument.

Didn't mean to insult you.

One insults oneself so frequently

that one can permit an occasional stranger

to join in the fun.

This collection must have cost you a pretty penny.

The collection is pretty.

The pennies that bought them, not always so.

Would you like to have a bass made by Reising?

I'll let you know, Mr. Reising.

Most probably you'll never call.

Machine-made atrocities seem to be good enough

for most of the musicians today.

Very fitting marriage.

Machine-made music, machine-made instrument.

(sawing noise)

Thank you, Mr. Reising.

Good day, Mr. Tresh.

(bell jingles)

I used to get a much bigger thank you

when I brought your supply, Lorna.

I'm late for work, Russ.

Well, I don't really mind, except tonight I wanted you

to be real appreciative because, you see,

tonight I want you to do me a little favor.

Can't we talk about it later?

No, we're gonna talk about it right now.

What is it?

You know, last night,

I asked you to tell that bass fiddle player

that you couldn't get him any stuff?

I told him.

Just like you said.

Yeah, I know.

But tonight,

I'd like to give it to him.

All right, I'll give it to him.

No, you didn't hear me too good.

I said I'd like to give it to him.

Well, what do you want me for?

I'll tell you.

I want you to call him on the telephone,

and tell him to meet you here.

And then you'll give it to him.

With what? A .45?

Call him on the phone and don't get wise.

I don't want you to get too involved in this, Lorna.

(chuckles)

You-you want me to set somebody up for you to kill,

but you don't want me to get too involved?

Thanks a lot.

What do you got against him?

Let's just say there's a fire in town.

It's spreading,

and I'm gonna put it out.

Well, I'm not gonna pull the alarm.

I won't!

(sighs)

Call him.

You make up your mind.

You call him before you get hurt or after.

It's up to you.

(phone rings)

Hello?

This-this is Lorna Shaw, Artie.

I've got some stuff for you.

Meet me at my place at 9:30.

Lorna?

Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?

Well, it's a whole lot easier than mending two broken arms,

I'll tell you that.

I've got to get to the club.

Oh, I think you've worked enough for tonight.

You better stay here.

Besides, now that you've broken the ice and called him,

you might want to do it again.

(knocking on door)

Come in.

Eliot?

-(chuckles) -Lee, what happened to Rudin?

We followed him down here.

Rico's watching him now.

How's it been going with you?

Things are warming up.

With Rudin in New Orleans, we'll get some action.

Action? What do you call last night?

That was a starter.

You think Rudin's down here to spank his boy

for letting you get away?

Let's find out.

Where are we going?

Got invited to a special meeting in 20 minutes.

You can cover me.

♪♪

There he is.

You got him?

Yeah.

Go.

-(gunshots) -Artie, watch out!

What do you think you're doing?

Let me go, let me go.

Lorna.

Did you get him?

How could I with that dame?

Let's get up to the roof and get out of here.

She has a fractured skull, a pretty bad one,

but I think she'll pull through.

As far as questioning her is concerned,

I'd say it'll be quite a while.

That's if things go all right.

Please do everything you can to make sure

things do go right for his girl, will you, Doctor?

-Of course. -Thanks.

All he had to do was sit tight; everything would have been fine.

Why'd they open up?

Maybe you were coming too close for comfort.

Close to what?

The Purple Elephant, there's nothing there.

I'm sure of that.

What about this girl?

Yeah, that may be it.

She's mixed up with the mobsters somewhere.

Let's get back to Tresh for a minute.

Tresh?

Yeah, he's a hophead.

They don't usually trust hopheads with deliveries.

Maybe Tresh didn't deliver the narcotics.

You saw Peepers come out of his hotel room with the stuff.

We saw Peepers; we didn't see Tresh.

Maybe the stuff was in the room and Tresh didn't know about it.

He must have known about it.

Why else would they kill him?

To keep me from going to New Orleans.

To make it appear as if Tresh was important.

His death might mean the end of the shipments for a while.

Let's go back to the hotel, Lee.

(jazz plays)

Thank you.

Is the girl dead?

She's no problem, dead or alive.

No problem?

She's a junkie.

What judge and what jury's gonna listen to what a junkie says?

Give me another one.

Where does that leave us, Russ?

Don't look now,

but there's a Chicago Fed sitting right across from us.

(applause)

You sure?

Yeah.

He raided a friend of mine's club about a year ago

looking for booze.

We were playing poker in the back.

I had a full house, three kings and two aces.

I never did get to play that hand.

I'll never forget his face.

That Ness is breathing right down our throats.

There's only one person that could have told Ness

how we ship the stuff.

The fiddle maker?

Yeah.

Don't we need him anymore?

No, we'll shut him up.

Only this time, we'll make sure nothing goes wrong.

We'll do it ourselves.

Right now.

What about the Fed?

Yeah.

Good night, folks.

Thank you very much.

George.

Come here.

There's a Fed over there.

We'd like to lose him.

Well, go through my office, out the back.

Uh, right this way, gentlemen, but please,

no long distance calls on my phone.

It's about wide enough to hold a container of narcotics.

Ah, what a scheme, but whose? Rudin's?

He's in on it, but there are others.

For instance, there would have to be a master violin maker,

wouldn't you say, Lee?

There's nobody in there.

He lives in the cellar.

This is Tuesday.

He goes to a concert every Tuesday.

I hope he enjoys it.

Next concert he hears

will be the angels playing their harps.

(chuckles, bell jingles)

We'll wait in the cellar.

It's quieter there.

It's about time we had an easy hit.

They're never easy until they're over.

Oh, yeah?

What's the old man gonna clobber us with? This?

Quiet.

I think I hear something.

(door rattles)

Somebody's trying to get in the door.

Maybe it's Reising.

Take a look.

It's Ness.

Don't move.

-(bell jingles) -They're coming in.

"Violins, 1928. Violins, 1930."

Wait a minute.

Here's a list of the basses he made this year.

Eight names.

Tresh is one of them.

Tresh must have come to New Orleans earlier this year

just to have Reising make him a bass.

Reising made one for him, all right.

There are seven other unsuspecting bass-violin players

carrying the narcotics all over the country.

How do they know where the bass players are gonna be?

That's easy, Lee.

They book the bass players into a club in New Orleans,

load the basses with narcotics,

book them out to any city in the country.

Whenever they want another shipment made,

they just book them back to New Orleans.

Yeah, that's the rest of the gang.

Russ Bogan, the booking agent.

Bogan, Rudin, and the violin maker.

Get them.

(gunshots)

Don't shoot, Ness. I give up.

I give up.

Come on up, Bogan.

You're all through.

You'll have to come and get me, Ness.

That's all right with me.

(gunshots)

That's all, Bogan.

Drop it.

Come on, junk peddler.

(thud)

Come on.

WINCHELL: Karl Reising was arrested one hour later.

He was sentenced to five to ten years

in the federal penitentiary.

As for Russ Bogan, he was tried as an accessory to the murder

of Artie Tresh and found guilty.

On the night of January 8, 1934,

he took his final steps toward his very last booking,

the electric chair in the death house at Joliet.