Simon & Simon (1981–1989): Season 3, Episode 21 - The Dillinger Print - full transcript

[Announcer] Tonight
on Simon & Simon.

Don't tell me,
you're... John Dillinger.

I'm turning myself in.

The print was made
by John Dillinger.

Tell J. Edgar I can't make
it to the dance marathon.

If this keeps up, our client
list is going to be made up

of nothing but mind
readers and extraterrestrials.

I'd like you to
investigate the FBI.

We want everything you've
got Now is it Dillinger or not?

Well, there's more truth to
this than anyone might believe.


Get down, get down.

♪♪ [theme music]

♪♪ [swing music plays]

[man] It was a
warm night in July,

and the Biograph
Theater in Chicago

was playing a Clark Gable movie.

Manhattan Melodrama.

It was a gangster picture.

John Dillinger loved
gangster movies.

We had the place surrounded.

He wasn't going to
get away this time.

And when the movie ended,

we saw the Lady in Red come out.

She was with him,
just as she'd promised.

Suddenly, there was a shout.

"Dillinger!" someone yelled.

The next thing I knew,
there was shooting. Bam!

People were diving for cover.

A woman screamed.

And public enemy number 1

folded up like an
accordion on the sidewalk.

Oh, but that's not
the end of the story.

I saw the dead man
on the street that night

with my very own
eyes, and I'm convinced

it was not the real Dillinger.

But what happened to him?

Oh, I don't know.

But 50 years, I've been
looking for the right man,

and some day, I'm going
to find John Dillinger.

Is that really his gun?

Oh, yes. A .380 automatic,

recovered by the FBI on the raid

on the Little Bohemia
hunting lodge.

Manitowish, Wisconsin.

I've heard this story
a few times before.

Come on, time to go home.

Mom, I want to hear
more about Ma Barker.

Aw, go on, kids.

Next time.

Grandpa's tired.


Come on, come on.

Go on out to the
car, get your things.

I'll be right there.

[children] Bye, Grandpa.

Bye, kids.

See you tomorrow, Dad.

Oh, I'll be out most of the day.

What are you up to?

I know when
something's going on.

I'll call you tomorrow
night, Addie.




[indistinct rattle]

That you, Addie?
Forget something?

I knew it was you.

Nobody would ever believe it.

They will when I take you in.


For 3 months, the
telephone company

has been sending
you past due bills.

Now, I warned you when
the yellow one came.

I warned you when
the pink one came.

I warned you again
when the green one came.

- But did you listen? No.
- I guess I should have...

Yes, you should have.

But no, you had to wait
for the blood-red notice.

24 hours until Armageddon.

A.J., I had the
check right here.

Do they disconnect your
ship-to-shore service?

No. They disconnect
my telephone.

I was on my way to the
phone company and everything.

And what happened?

What, Rick? Come on, tell me.

I really want to know.

Was she blonde?
Brunette? Redhead? What?

No. No.

Kind of a sandy brown color.

We met at the corner
market. It was kismet, A.J.

We both reached for the same
package of frozen enchiladas.

- Frozen enchiladas.
- Yeah.

We never did get around

to eating those
enchiladas either,

but there was something
just electric in the air

when we... Beautiful blue eyes.

And she's so healthy

and alive. Vibrant personality.

I can't even tell
the phone company

that the check is in the mail,

because it's in the freezer

stuck to a box of
frozen enchiladas

[clears throat]

Excuse me.

Um, are you the
private investigators?

- Yeah.
- Yes, ma'am.

Well, I'm Addie Becker.

I would like to hire you.

Ah. What can we do for you?

I'd like you to
investigate the FBI.

My father dedicated 37
years of his life to the Bureau,

and everybody
down at the field office

has been very sympathetic.
Very kind. That's officially.


Thank you.

Unofficially, however,

they tend to write my father off

as a poaching old agent
who spent his pension money

pretending that he
was working on a cast.

Are you sure he was
working on something again?


I recognize the patterns.

Starting about
February, I guess,

he was getting some
mysterious phone calls

from a man who
wouldn't leave messages

whenever I would
answer the phone.

And he was going
out at all hours.

Look, I grew up a Bureau brat.

I know he was
working on something.

And the FBI, I mean,
they aren't doing anything.

They won't admit it.

Have you told this
to the local police?

No, they're treating it

like some kind of
burglary-related shooting.

And that's not right.

Anything taken from the house?

Um, a cassette recorder.

My father's wallet.

A gun that once
belonged to John Dillinger.

The police think

that was what was
used to kill my father.

He was showing it
to my kids last night.

Look, my father's dead.

I want to find out
who killed him.

Would you excuse us
for a moment, please?


I'll fix some coffee.


You know, Rick, I
feel sorry for her,

but everything here
points to burglary.

I'm just wondering if it's
fair of us to take her money.

The police are probably going
to handle this better than we can.

Well, I'm just wondering

why a burglar who's
interested in stealing cash

and tape recorders
and an old gun

would bother with
taking a file of newspaper

clippings out of
the victim's desk.

Say what?

It's a chrono file. Look here.

Last year ends with December.

Here's January this year.

And now, look at this.


There's nothing since February.

Not one single clipping.

That doesn't necessarily
mean that the killer took them.

No, no. He could have
just stopped saving stories.

He could have put
them someplace else.

On the other hand,
February was the month

he went back
into a work pattern,

according to his daughter.

Yeah, but it's just, you know,

something to wonder about.

Never in the history of the FBI

did anybody have to wait

3 hours to see Efrem
Zimbalist, Junior.

You know, I know where
Abby Hoffman was hiding,

all those years the
FBI was looking for him.

He was right here,
in their waiting room.

Relax. You're giving
yourself a nervous rash.

Well, I don't like the FBI.

I never will.

I know they're good
at what they do,

but they got this attitude.

That's why they're
good at what they do.

You know, if you
threw the covers

off a sleeping FBI agent,

you would find a guy
who was totally naked,

except for a pair of
black shiny shoes.

Look at this. Look at this.


Excuse me. A.J.?

- Oh!
- It is A.J.

I don't have the second part.

- Simon.
- Simon, right.

- Frank Kenniman.
- Yeah, sure.

Nice to see you. What
brings you back here?

Oh, just got a little cold down
in Washington for the old bones,

so I wrangled a transfer
back about a year ago.

Well, good to see you.

This is my brother Rick.

Frank Kenniman.

We used to play
racquetball together.

Yeah, and I used to lose.

What brings you guys here?

We're working for a
woman named Addie Becker.

Her father used to be an agent.

I know.

Well, she thinks that her father

was working on a case
when he was killed,

and she wants to know
what the FBI knows.

No. Ty Becker's imagination
was just out of control, guys.

He was just one of those people
who didn't know how to retire.

He wasn't working
on anything for us.

It was all in his head.

Officially, the FBI isn't
investigating his death at all?

No. It's a local police matter.
To be very honest with you,

everybody around here
thought he was just a little wacko.

You know, all that stuff
about Dillinger. Come on.

You know, Dillinger's gun was
probably the murder weapon.

I heard that. I guess you just
put that down to final irony.

Look, I got to go see the boss.

Spot me 3 and serve, and I'd love to
get you back on the racquetball court.

- Okay. You got it.
- Call me here.

Would you tell them that
we're in here, waiting?

Yeah, I'll tell them.

Thank you.

Nice guy.

For the FBI.

- [explosion]
- [woman screams]



Get down, get down.

Come on people, move
it. Move, move, move.

Get over here.

You okay? Huh?

He took our safety deposit box.

Did you get a license?

I got it.

It's an old .380.

Automatic. That's the gun
from my father's collection.

All I had a chance
to see in the box

was some contracts and
some insurance forms,

and a brown envelope.

It had a manila folder
in it that said "5 + 5."

I don't know what that means.

I think we can rule out
burglary as a motive.

The object of the robbery was
to misdirect the investigation.

Yeah. The guy probably
took the clippings out of the file

because he was afraid
there was something in there

that pointed to him.

Maybe he was afraid there was
something in the safe deposit box

that would do the same thing.

More than likely.

Possibly the "5 + 5."

Or whatever.


Oh, yeah.


What's wrong?

The getaway car was stolen.

We found it abandoned
several blocks away.

The gun was the same one
used in the murder of your father.

We found a clear
fingerprint on it.


Fresh print, also.

Brand new.

Could have been
made yesterday, today.

We're talking fresh.

That's great. You got a
chance for a positive ID.

We already have a positive ID.

Who is it, Lieutenant?

The print was made
by John Dillinger.

[Rick laughs]

Come on, Town.

That's not funny.


Just wonderful.

Bad news really travels fast.

Looks like no news
is really smoking.

Already made the L.A. papers.

Come on, Rick. Be fair.

You can hardly
call that no news.

The 50-year-old ghost of a
romantic legend like John Dillinger?

That's exactly the
kind of sensational stuff

people eat up with a spoon.

People that are
easily impressed.

You know, this is fascinating.

This is depressing.

Hey, you know this
ties us to these people.

This keeps up, our client
list is going to be made up

of nothing but mind
readers and extraterrestrials.

Ah, blah, blah, blah.

Yeah, here we go.

"The Dillinger print
was discovered

by 2 San Diego
private investigators,

A.J. and Simon Richards."


Well, what do you want?

You want them to drop the
story or get your name right?

"The autopsy remained
lost for 30 years,

but it records that the body
supposed to be Dillinger's

was the wrong height,
lacked all of Dillinger's scars,

had a rheumatic heart,
which Dillinger's didn't,

- and..."
- Don't forget the eyes.

The dead man had brown eyes.

Mine are blue.

Oh, no, I don't
want to hear this.

Don't tell me.
You're... John Dillinger.

John Dillinger.

Yes, believe it or not, it's me.

I'm turning myself in.

Mm. On a B&E charge, I hope.

This door was locked.

The lock hasn't been invented
that could stop me, laddie boy.

Get out of here.

Now wait, now wait, Rick.

Maybe Mr. Dillinger

has something
he'd like to tell us.

Yes. My memoirs.

It's all in here.

Some call me Desperate
Dan, but Dillinger's the name.

Yeah, well, uh,

we'd love to hear
more, Mr. Dillinger, but...

Right now, it's
time for our naps,

so I'll tell you what.

Why don't you go down
and talk to Lieutenant Brown?

He's down at the police station.

I'm sure he'll want to see this.

Lieutenant Brown? You sure?

Oh, yeah. That's
the man. It's his case.

Oh, thanks.

I'll do that.


[answering machine rewinds]


Hey Rick, this is Bruno.

I'm still trying to trace those
calls to the Becker house.

Some kind of
protective exchange.

Right now, I'm stuck in a
master switcher in St. Louis,

but I'll crack it.
I'll call you later.


Are you the detectives
who were looking for me?

Mr. Dillinger, we presume.

I'm trying to turn myself in.

Lieutenant Brown said
you would talk me out of it.

[crowd chatters]

Okay, we're even,

but I thought you'd like a
little taste of what happens

when you stir up the lunatic.

All we did was turn in the gun.

We just did our
jobs as good citizens.

- That's all.
- That's it.

Sure would like to know who
leaked this story to the news wires.

It wasn't us.

Why don't you just leak
another story saying it's all bull?

Fingerprints are not bull.

They're considered
class-A evidence.

You're going to need to rent cage
space from the zoo to take care of this.

You think this is bad?

This is the fringe
lunatic response.

Wait till the real
wackos get wound up.

I'm going to need some help.

- You have deputies. No.
- Ah, no. Mm, no.

Not this time.

That'll do for now. Come on.

You can go.

Thank you for coming
by, Mr. Dillinger.

If we have any further
questions, I'll call you.


I'm sorry, sir.

He's had a difficult

I understand.

Come on home now, Floyd.

Thank you, sir.

You're welcome.

The big eye is on this one.

I've got to play it
straight down the middle.

You're going to have to
watch this from the sidelines.

[clears throat]

What is that look?

That last one technically
was a reincarnation of Dillinger.

I'm going to have
to start a new list.

I thought the Becker
case wasn't federal.

It isn't.

But Dillinger's print is.

Oh, I'd like to
thank both of you

from the bottom of
my heart for finding it.

- Oh, our pleasure.
- Any time.

You talked to his daughter?

She told you about the file
that was taken out of the bank?

5 + 5? Yeah. She told me.

I have never heard of an
FBI operation by that name,

past or present, and I
know every scam going.

Some of the
witnesses at the bank

said that the guy was wearing
some sort of odd shoes.

What did they call it?

Spectator shoes.

Right, spectator shoes.

Well, you can get
those anywhere.

Yeah, I suppose. Ah, forget it.

It was just a dumb thought.

That's what you
guys get paid for.

Uh, what exactly was
your dumb thought?

Dillinger was a dandy.

That's what he wore.

[doorbell rings]

- Hi.
- Hi.

How you holding up?

Fine, fine, once I yanked
the phone out of the wall.

Kids are at my sister's.

The reporters are
hanging out on the corner,

waiting to follow them to
school. Can you believe that?

Yeah. Find anything?

Oh, yeah. I found
Legg's diamond,

I found the
Lindbergh kidnapping,

every major crime
sensation for the last 50 years.

But no 5 + 5,
not that I can find.

So what do we do now?

Nothing much to do

except wait for the police
to sort everything out.

- Besides, the FBI's on it now.
- So what, that means
you're through?

- No.
- No, no.

Because if you are,
just give me the bill.

- I'll find somebody else.
- [whistles] Time out.

- Relax.
- On the case.

All we're saying is, what
exactly do you want to do

that isn't already
being done right now?

I would like to save
my father's good name.

I think he deserves
that, don't you?

- Yes.
- Yes, he does. All agreed on that.




Okay, um...

who's around that might
have known your dad

back in his early
days at the Bureau?

Most everybody's gone now.

I guess Jewel Lee's the last.

She was my father's
secretary for 35 years.

Dad used to come
see her all the time.

When he talked about her, he
always had that look on his face.

You know, that
too-bad-for-poor-old-Jewel look.

I guess we all slow
down after a while.


If that's Jewel, she doesn't
sound any too slow to me.

She looks wonderful.

[Jewel] You better
make your move, sweetie,

before Nunzio gets
back. I'm all his.

Unless his back
is turned. [giggling]

[doorbell rings]

I hope I got that much
juice when I'm her age.

You won't.

- Hello, Gladys.
- Addie.

- These are friends.
- Come in.

Hi. Nice to meet you.

Ooh. [giggling]

Hello, Jewel.

[continues laughing]

I'd stay out of Chicago,
you bad boy, you.

Jewel, do you remember me?

That's Nunzio's territory.

Addie Becker.

He'll feed you to the fishes.

Ty's daughter.

Let him go to Chicago.

We'll stay here.




Oh, you got ten bucks? I gotta
buy some racquetball balls.

You're stuttering.

Just give me the
money, will you?

Tell, you what. Make it $7.50.

You can always put a
little money on the game,

and I can always take it.
Can I have some racquetballs?


Okay. Thank you.

Hey, where you going?

I thought you wanted to
learn how to play the game.

I figured I'd watch one of
those erotic exercise classes.


Bet me.

Thank you.

So she's completely spaced, huh?

The nurse says she
goes in and out of it.

Out more than in, these days.

I mean, she's not senile.

It's a form of schizophrenia.

Come on. No breathing.

Any progress on those
phone calls to Becker?

Don't ask me. You're the FBI.

Piece of cake.


My service.

- [breathing heavily]
- Game point. My serve.

Get down!

[A.J. yelling]


Get the police!


- Where's Frank?
- He's okay.

The first shot hit
the wall over there.

Now, you're okay,
A.J. Just calm down.

- Yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine.
- Calm down.

What happened... What happened
to the man who shot at us?

- Anybody get him?
- No. He just disappeared, A.J.

A couple men say they saw him at a distance
after the shooting, but he just got away.

I couldn't do anything.

I just lay there like a fool
and covered my head.

I couldn't do anything.

Yeah. We used to
call that the genuflect.

It was the only thing your body
could do. You know what I mean?

I'd... I'd like to get
out of here now, Rick.

You got it. Come on. Here we go.


Come on.

You don't have to stay
up and hold my hand.

Go on to bed.

Having a late supper,
if you don't mind.

I was scared, Rick.

Worst I can ever remember.

Want some more brandy?

It doesn't help.

Yeah, well, nothing
does I ever found.

I remember yelling.

Every time he'd
let loose, I'd yell.

All I could do was yell.

We've been shot at before,
you know, but not like this.

Ambush out of nowhere.

I just kept yelling.

Yeah, well, you always were
the neat one in the family.

I used to mess my pants something
awful in those damn rice paddies.

A lot of guys I knew
would throw up, and...

You want half a sandwich?

What is it?

Let's see.

It says either steak tartare on
whole wheat or banana pudding.

Thanks. I'll stick
with the brandy.

I think I'll join you.

- It couldn't be, could it?
- Eh?


I don't know. I guess
we find out who did this,

we'll know if it's Dillinger.

When we find who
did this, and we will...

I don't care if it's John
Dillinger or Al Capone...

He's gonna be as terrified
as I was this afternoon.

Just hang on.
We'll be right there.

Lieutenant Brown, I have
a job to do too, you know?

I mean, this is a massive P. R.
Headache for the entire department.

What do you want me to do? You
want me to investigate this job here,

or do you want me to help
Bob Hope entertain the troops?

The chief would greatly
appreciate your cooperation.

All right. Let's get
this thing over with.

I can't do it!

- Do what?
- Whatever it is,
I can't do it today.

We just wanna know if you got any
leads on the Dillinger gang, that's all.

- Gang? Now it's a gang?
- Well, he can't
be working alone.

You want leads? I got leads.
Here. Look. Leads right here.

Plenty of leads. These
leads are from California.

These are from out of state. The rest of
these divide into your NATO countries,

your Eastern Bloc and
your Third World countries.

Everybody's got a
lead to John Dillinger.

Town, calm down. You can
never tell when one of these things

is gonna take you right to the big
banana, you know what I mean?

- We're ready, Lieutenant.
- I wish I could help you guys,

but I'm booked on Phil
Donahue this morning.

- You think I need any makeup?
- [both] Yeah.

[doorbell rings]

- Yes?
- Uh, excuse us, sir.

We're private investigators,
and a Mrs. Sophie Cranberry...

That's Ganberry. She
lives across the street.


Well, anyway, she wrote a letter
to the San Diego Police Department

that says John Dillinger
lives at this address.

I beg your pardon?

- Well...
- Uh, don't misunderstand us.

We've been
following leads all day.

We're at the
bottom of the list...

I'm a dentist.

Yeah, we can see that.

And Mrs. Ganberry is
a burned-out old alchy.

We tried to talk to
her, but she wasn't in.

She's in. She's just out.

Ah. Well, sorry to disturb you.

- Ohhh!
- Don't say it. Just don't say it.

After tracking down leads to a
chicken farmer named Gonzalez,

a 350-pound brewmeister...

Now a dentist in Chula Vista. I
have had it, too. No more long shots.

I just wish Frank would come up
with something from five plus five.

I know that's the dangling
thread in this case.

And about time we tied it up, too,
with or without Kenniman's help.

Somewhere in this house
there has gotta be a link.

In the five plus five file.

You sure your father never
made any reference to it?

No, absolutely.

Believe me, I'm beginning
to dream about this.

Yeah. Yeah. Hang on. Hang on.

I gotta go.

Area code 869.

Where is that? What do
you mean, you don't know?

Bruno, you're terrific. This
is two cases of Don Diablo.

Bye. Guess what?

The number's not only
unlisted, it's classified.

We got no idea
who's at the other end.

I'll tell you what. Addie,
he knows your voice,

so I think maybe you ought
to be the one to make that call.

[line ringing]

- [Man] Hello.
- This is Addie Becker.

Do you know my
father, Ty Becker?

[Man] How did you
get this number?

It's not important.

I wanna talk to you
about five plus five.

[Man] Five plus five?
Is that what you said?

[Addie] Yes. I want to know
what my father was working on.

[Man] I can't tell you yet,
but someone will be in touch.

[line disconnects]

Now we have no choice.

We'll have to set up
a rendezvous for them

with Mr. Dillinger.

You wanna know what I think?
I think it was Dillinger we called.

What on earth
makes you think that?

'Cause it sounded like him.

Oh, now you know what
Dillinger sounds like?

Yeah. Like George C. Scott. At
least that's what they all sound like.

- You wanna know
what else I think?
- This is Bruno.

- I think that's Bruno.
- I don't know what's going on
here, guys,

but somebody's trying to
trace that connection back.

You know, from that
869 number, to me.

Should I be worried, or what?

- [machine off]
- I don't like the sound
of that.

Well, I think it's time
to talk to Mr. D again.

[line ringing]

[Woman] We're sorry. The
number you have reached

has been disconnected
or is no longer in service.

If you feel you have reached
this recording in error...


- Morning.
- Hi.

Please, sit down.

Uh, that number from last
night... it's disconnected.

That's the last time I trust
Dillinger, I'll tell you that.

I had a strange call from
Jewel Lee this morning.

What other kind is there?

Does that mean Jewel Lee is
communicating with the real world again?

Well, yes and no. She called
from 1935 or thereabouts.

- Called me by my mother's name.
- What'd she want?

She needed to talk to my father.

She had an important
message from Eli.

- Who's Eli?
- Eliot Ness.

The only person that ever got
away with calling him Eli was Jewel.

It's too bad, really.

She's the one person my
father might've confided in.

And you saw her.
She's in another world.

You know, if Jewel
Lee is back in 1935,

maybe we ought
to join her there.

Surplus Sammy wouldn't do this for
just anybody. I want you to know that, A.J.

- Babyface.
- What?

From now on, call me Babyface,
and you're, uh, Machine Gun.

He was like this
when we were seven.

Mmm, Jewel. What do you
say? What do you know? Mmm?

I don't understand.

We have some
questions from J. Edgar

that need some answers.

Don't tell me. The
Rotary Club is organizing

an old-time costume ball.

[wise guy accent]
What did she just say?

No, ma'am.

It's just that when
we were here before...

- You were here?
- [Rick] Yes. You remember.

You were dancing and
drinking champagne.

- Victrola was on.
- Addie?

Addie Becker, is that
you under all those...

How are you, Jewell?
It's good to see you again.

Your father didn't
visit me this week.

Um, he's been away.

He's dead, isn't he?

He was a good man, Addie.

I'm gonna miss him.

Yeah. [clears throat]

We all will.


did my father happen
to say anything

about his last case?

Only that he was
involved in some kind of

an internal investigation.

A cover-up inside the FBI.

That's all he said.

You suppose the Bureau
is covering up the Dillinger?

I don't know but I intend to ask

the ever-helpful Frank Kenniman.

What did I tell you
about these FBI guys?

You've been very,
very helpful, Jewel.

Any time.

♪♪ [standard]

Say, can you mugs
deliver a message for me?

Be glad to.

Tell J. Edgar I can't make it

to the dance
marathon this weekend.

I don't think he's going to
be there either, sweetheart.

[door closes]

A.J., I was shielding you
for your own protection.

Well, excuse me, Frank, but I
don't exactly feel safe and sound.

We want everything you've
got. Is it Dillinger or not?

There's more truth to this
than anyone might believe.

- Try us.
- It'll be off the record.

You can't even tell
Lieutenant Brown.

We'll decide that after
we see what you've got.

You won't believe your eyes.

All right.

Do you know the
old Rialto theater

on Lincoln Avenue?

- It's closed down.
- That's where Dillinger is?

Just meet me
there in a half hour.

The rear door will be open

and bring that
Becker girl with you.

It's time we told
her the truth too.

What are we gonna do if
Dillinger really is in there?

Grab him. To hell with the FBI.

They dropped the
ball, we're picking it up.

That's all.

Just think about.

Rick Simon, the man
who nailed John Dillinger.

I feel like I'm going
into the Twilight Zone.

This is an historic moment.

Oh, boy.

They don't build
'em like this anymore.

Remember those Saturday
afternoon matinees,

we used to come to
a place just like this?

- Spend the entire day.
- Sneak in the door
just like this.

- I'd be the one
who got caught.
- Always. Always.

See Frank anywhere?

Yo, Kenniman!

Come out, come
out, wherever you are.

[Man] Dillinger's crime spree

galvanized the
imaginations of a nation

weary of soup lines
and prohibition beer.

They hungrily
followed his exploits

which blazed
across the font pages

of this country's newspapers.

Charming fella.

Sorry to put you
through all this,

but it's the way
Mr. Dillinger wants it.

He's always had a
very theatrical flare.


A.J? A.J.? A.J.!


I'll take the balcony.

[Man] the most
notorious gangland pirate

to roam the Depression landscape

was Gentlemen Johnny Dillinger,

public enemy number one.

Stay put.

On the run since
the spring of 1933,

Dillinger stayed one step ahead,

thwarting the law in 6 states,

robbing bank after bank,

the most wanted man in America.

It all came to a bloody end

on a hot night in Chicago, 1934,

when Melvin Purvis

trapped Dillinger
outside a movie theater

Even though John Dillinger
never broke a federal law,

the FBI had orders
to shoot to kill.

His gang seemed invincible.

He was destined to
become a romantic hero

who can be compared
to Robin Hood.

But everyone knew it had to end.

The end was at the hands
of Hoover's men in Chicago.

Stand up, Kenniman!
I'm gonna kill you!

Okay! Cold blood!

Don't do it.

- Try and stop me!
- Somebody stop him!

- A.J., put the gun down.
- Don't kill him!

Get her out of here! I
don't want her to see this!

You got 10 seconds.

Tell me how you
did the Dillinger print!

I can't in 10 seconds.

- You got 5 seconds!
- All right!

It was a computer scan from
the original print in our files.

We molded it out of
latex, added some oil,

and then pressed
it against the gun.

Very impressive act, A.J.

What act?

I received a call from my
chief in Washington an hour ago

about your
conversation last night.

- Say what?
- That was your chief?

In Washington?

Your father was
working since February.

I didn't even know
anything about it.

5 plus 5.

5 by 5. You got it wrong.

It was a code.

They were looking
for an FBI agent,

Kenniman as it turns out,

who was selling
names and addresses

of relocated witnesses
to the underworld.

There have been several
murders in the past few months.

Your chief could have
made it all a lot easier

if you had spoken up sooner.

Chief didn't know anyone
knew about "5 by 5"

until you called.

He was still trying
to catch the mole.

Fortunately, you
took care of that for us.

Thank you.

Good day.

Any time.

Nice working with you.

No Dillinger.

Oh... [vocalizes]

There goes your page
in the history books.

There is still a lot of evidence

that the guy killed in 1934
was not John Dillinger.

[all talking at once]

It's all over.

You don't have anything
else to worry about, Dad.

Just stay away from
Sophie Ganbury from now on.

And no more stories about
the good old days in Chicago.


This really could have
been embarrassing.

Closed-Captioned By J.R.
Media Services, Inc. Burbank, CA