The Untouchables (1959–1963): Season 2, Episode 18 - The Underground Court - full transcript
Mobster Valentine Ferrar thinks he has the perfect way to steal $500,000 of the syndicate's money. When a passenger liner returning from Cuba catches fire off the New Jersey coast, he fakes his death and sends his underling to the Underground Court, the mob's court of law, to tell them he drowned. They are soon on his trail however so when he meets up with a kooky widow, Hannah Wagnall, they set off on what she calls a second honeymoon. What he doesn't realize is that Wagnall has her own plans and that she's gone on these second honeymoons before. Ness and his men, with the help of State Police, track Valentine and Wagnall across several States as they too try to not only get the money but hopefully find out where the Underground Court meets.
How much further?
Just off this dirt
road, Mr. Ness.
Watch it!
Tonight's episode...
Starring Robert
Stack as Eliot Ness.
Co-starring Richard Devon
and Frank De Kova.
With special guest
star Joan Blondell.
And narrated by Walter Winchell.
September 8, 1934, 5:15 a.m.
The Morro Castle, an
American cruise liner
returning from Cuba
with 318 passengers
and a crew of 231, was ablaze
off Spring Lake, New Jersey.
All efforts to curb
the fire were in vain.
At the same time, Eliot Ness,
acting on reports
from Cuban agents,
was racing down the Jersey coast
to the scene of the disaster...
where passengers and crew
were being pulled
out of the sea.
Ness was on his way to arrest
passenger Valentine Ferrar,
racketeer, gambler,
disbarred lawyer, a founder
of the Big Syndicate...
It was reported
that Ferrar had collected
for the Syndicate,
then in control of most
of the U.S. criminal world,
over a million dollars from
their interests in Havana.
See anything of this face?
They all look the same.
Got a name?
Valentine Ferrar.
Ferrar... Ferrar, Valentine.
Drowned, reported
by an eyewitness.
The eyewitness have a name?
Name's Beggs.
Inky Beggs, Ferrar's sidekick.
Where can I find Beggs?
He just left for New York,
wrapped in a Red Cross
blanket, in a big hurry.
Beggs no sooner hit the city
than he found himself
rushed to another destination.
This time, he was not in
a hurry of his own choice.
He was being taken
to a loft building
in lower Manhattan, blindfolded,
so that he could
not retrace his steps,
if he left there alive,
to testify before
the Big Syndicate's
secret and notorious
underground court.
Don't be nervous, Inky.
We just want to
ask some questions.
The reason for this court
is to find out the truth.
You understand, Inky?
Yeah, sure.
When the Morro
Castle caught fire,
who was carrying the money?
You or Valentine?
Val.
How?
In a money belt.
Then what happened?
Then he jumped in the water.
Why didn't you jump, Inky?
I can't swim, and-and I
didn't have no life belt.
Valentine had the last one, eh?
No, now, wait,
now, I didn't say that.
He didn't have none either.
And besides, he
can swim real good.
You saw him jump
overboard and hit the water?
I seen him start to swim.
Then a-a... big chunk
of metal or something
dropped off the boat and it
hit him and he went under
and then he didn't
come up no more and...
That's all.
Am I through with?
In a hurry, Inky?
No, uh...
Welcome to Santa's
workshop, Inky.
This is how we used
to package the stuff.
We've got better ways
now... You go the route, Inky?
No, thanks, I... I only got
liquid vices, so to speak.
They call me Judge Foley...
Ever hear of me, Inky?
What've you heard?
That you're psycho.
The word is "psychic", Inky.
That means I got
extrasensory perception.
You don't have to know
what that means, Inky,
just so long as
you're impressed.
Are you impressed, Inky?
Good.
Come here.
Sit down.
I got one more
question to ask you, Inky.
All you gotta do is look
straight into my eyes...
and answer it.
If I buy your answer,
you and the
Syndicate are still cozy.
If I don't buy it, you'll
be cozy all by yourself.
Am I coming across to you, Inky?
Now, then, the question is...
Have you been
tellin' us the truth?
It's the truth,
I swear, I... I...
I told you the
truth; it's the truth!
All right, Inky.
You're free to go now.
Who is it?
Inky.
I done it.
You got it across?
The way I handled it was
beautiful, just beautiful!
Oh, she's still with me.
Who?
My angel.
How about a toast to
my lucky angel, huh, Inky?
Why not?
There we go... to her.
How about a toast to the dough?
Where is it?
Right where it always was.
It's a little wet, but, uh,
just as negotiable as ever.
Oh, we're gonna
live the life, Inky.
You and me, a pair
of kings running wild.
Mexico, South America... it's
gonna be one big celebration.
The best booze, the best
clothes, the best señoritas.
Yeah, if that angel friend
of yours don't cross you.
What?
No, my angel doesn't
operate like that.
She's with me all the way.
Look what she's
done for me already.
Tears off a piece of
lightning and... zing!
Right down on the
ship that's carrying
eight million bucks in my hands.
She lays down a
smoke screen and says,
"Take it from here,
Valentine, it's all yours."
And mine.
Sure... yours, too.
You're my partner.
Who is it?
Maintenance... there's a leak
coming from your bathroom pipe.
Get it tomorrow.
The water's coming
through the wall.
It's gotta be legit... they
wouldn't have let me go
if they didn't believe
me; he said so.
If you're crossing me...
I swear, Val, I swear.
Where is he?
Who?
I don't know who you
mean; I-I'm here alone.
You been drinking
with both hands?
We're just gonna
have to cut you up
into little filets, Inky.
No, no, please,
please, please, no!
Wait!
Drop the knife, mister.
Leave it lay!
All right, get over against
the wall, the two of you.
Me?
Yeah, you too, buddy!
What can I say,
Inky, except bye-bye.
What are you doing?
You can't kiss me off like this!
When they invented closet
doors, they also invented keyholes
to see through... buddy!
Look, I done my
best for you, Val.
Yeah, well, your best
almost caused my funeral.
And I'm too rich to die.
You can stop sweating, Mac.
You're not gonna get the topple.
I got a special à la
carte order for you.
You see this?
It's my resignation
from the Syndicate.
You're gonna deliver
a message for me...
to Judge Foley.
The bodies were
discovered by the manager
of the tourist cabins
a half hour later.
He called the police,
who notified Ness.
Inky Beggs.
That's one way of saving a cut
of that money Ferrar
collected in Cuba.
Recognize this one?
Pedro Palmas, torpedo deluxe.
Worked for the Syndicate.
This is the house manager.
Mr. Cooley, Mr. Ness.
Hello. Sit down.
Well, I told the police
everything they wanted to hear.
Fella checked in at 6:00 or so.
I didn't ask him no questions.
With five empties on my hands,
I ain't in a position to
turn someone down.
You see these men come here?
Yep.
You hear the shooting?
Well, even if I did, I
wouldn't go looking.
Ain't any of my business
what goes on inside a cabin.
You just sweep out
the bodies and forget it.
There ain't been
no bodies before.
The man who rented this
cabin, did you see him leave?
Yep.
He left 15 minutes
after the other one.
What other one?
The one no one asked about.
You mean there was a third one?
That's right, mister.
All right, Mr. Cooley, what else
have you been holding back?
Well, now, that ain't the
way you're supposed to do it.
You're supposed to
ask the right questions.
The only two times you saw
the man who rented this cabin
is when he came and
when he went, is that right?
That's a good one.
All right, Mr. Cooley,
everything would be a lot easier
if you just answer the
questions... not grade them.
Well, I saw him one other time.
I was making
coffee in the office
and I saw him go into the
telephone booth and make a call.
When was that?
Oh, about ten
minutes after he come.
He had the newspaper
open to the classified ads...
He was calling one
of them numbers
in the personal section.
How could you have
seen that from your office?
It's 30 yards away
from the phone booth.
Say, you're a pretty
sharp fella, you know that?
Now, look, Mr. Cooley...
Well, I... I don't mean I
actually saw the newspaper
while he was telephoning,
but I saw it after.
He left it in the
booth and so I took it.
One of them
personals was checked.
That's how I know.
Do you have the paper?
Nope. Burned it up in the stove.
Do you remember what it said?
Nope.
Mr. Cooley, is this
the same paper?
Yeah, yeah, that's it.
I can point out the ad.
That's it. That one.
"Man Wanted.
"Share driving chores with
lady. Destination, San Antonio.
Telephone Bayside 0-8879."
Hello, Operator...
Trace the address.
I'll try it again
in a few minutes.
That one's not connected.
It shorts all the time.
You must be Mr. Williams,
who spoke to me on the
phone regarding my ad.
I'm Mrs. Wagnall.
Welcome. Welcome, sir.
You're the third
response to my ad,
but absolutely the
only possible one.
Do sit down, Mr. Williams.
Do.
Thank you.
Yes, it would be a blotch
on my husband's memory
to have flotsam or jetsam
in his seat behind the wheel.
He was a real snob.
That is Gordon.
Oh, be quiet, Gordon.
His name is Gordon, too.
Would you mind too awfully if I
called you Gordon, Mr. Williams?
New names are such
a hurdle to get over.
Is there something
wrong, Gordon?
Wrong? Uh, no, no.
I-I... I was just wondering
if we could get
going right away.
Oh, no. Not till tomorrow.
I always leave on the ninth.
Always?
That's the purpose of this trip.
Every year, since the first
Gordon died, five years ago
on September the ninth,
I always go on a
second honeymoon...
With a gentleman.
Isn't that nice?
Yes, it's... well,
you might call it
a commemoration
second honeymoon.
That is to say, there are
no familiarities involved.
Oh, of course, of course.
You must understand that.
You can trust me, Mrs. Wagnall.
Lucy... that's what the
first Gordon called me.
Although my real name's Hannah.
He called me Lucy for Lucifer.
It was his little joke.
He was so dishy.
Yes.
Uh... well, Lucy,
I've got an idea,
The ninth starts at midnight,
so why don't we get an
early start and leave then?
We've got just about
a half hour to go.
Well, that might be
all right... why not?
I'm nearly packed.
Well, swell.
Well, then I'll just make myself
at home with the other Gordons
while, uh, while you finish up.
I won't be long, Gordon.
Will you answer that, Gordon?
Sure thing.
Hello.
Hello?
I'm calling about
that ad in the paper.
I'm sorry, mister,
you're too late.
"Gone on vacation.
"No deliveries
till further notice.
"Mrs. Gordon Wagnall."
Ness got a description
of Mrs. Wagnall
from her neighbors, and
information about her car
from the Division
of Motor Vehicles.
He had them circulated
in an all-points bulletin,
along with the dossier
on Valentine Ferrar.
Here's the information
we got from the fingerprints
on the third man who was in
that cabin... the one that got away.
William "Bo" Arends... One
of the Syndicate's punks.
See if you can
pick him up. Right.
Then with the
assistance of state police,
arranged for
roadblocks to be set up
at various places along
the main highways.
Stop it.
You got a real attachment
for that bird, haven't you?
Oh, yes. He's my symbol.
Well, I don't believe
in pets, personally.
You get too attached to them.
Hey, slow down so I can
see which way to turn, huh?
Hey, you didn't give me a
chance to see which way to go.
I've made this trip
many times before.
No reflection,
but I'd feel better if
you had a road map.
I've got a road map, Gordon.
Where?
It's hidden in a safe place,
where I keep all my valuables.
Well, what good's that
when you're travelling?
You ought to learn to
trust people, Gordon.
It'll make it easier all around.
No offense.
What's wrong?
Gordon's snack.
He always has a midnight snack.
I forgot it in the
rush to leave.
I won't be a minute.
I'd like a piece of rye bread,
please... stale... no butter.
You gonna eat it here or
your want to take it out?
It's not for me...
It's for Gordon.
Yes, ma'am.
That'll be two cents, please.
Keep the change.
Maybe I ought to
drive for a while.
Make a little time.
All righty, Gordon...
but not too fast.
We don't want the
police stopping us.
Reports from the
various roadblocks
were phoned in regularly to
Ness' New Jersey headquarters.
Local police units had alerted
each man to the emergency.
Ness.
Mr. Ness, I spotted that
car in the all-points bulletin.
Where is it?
The cemetery road
outside of Lambertsville.
Anybody in it?
No, but they may
be in the cemetery.
We'll be right out.
How much further?
Just off this dirt
road, Mr. Ness.
Watch it!
We haven't got a prayer
with those headlights on us.
I'll try to get their
headlights and draw their fire.
Get that chopper.
How is it?
I'm okay, Eliot.
I'll get you to a doctor.
Save us the trouble
of picking him up.
Take him to headquarters.
And now back to
The Untouchables.
One of the things that
had been puzzling Ness
was that the Syndicate
had apparently been making
no moves to locate Ferrar.
He had anticipated
just the opposite.
Ferrar ran out with the
Cuban collection money.
How come the Syndicate's
turning the other cheek?
I never heard of no Syndicate.
I don't know this guy Ferrar.
Maybe I can refresh your memory.
Two men were
murdered in a tourist cabin
near Newark last night.
Your fingerprints
were found there.
Oh, no. You don't
stick me with that.
Your prints and those
of the murdered men.
What about his?
Whose?
Ferrar's?
All right, you
tricked me into that.
That ain't legal.
I'll have you impeached.
I wanna see a lawyer!
How'd you like to be stuck with
a double murder rap, Arends?
I didn't have nothin' to
do with knockin' 'em off.
It was Ferrar. He did it.
I thought he was
gonna get me, too.
What stopped him?
The letter... he had a letter.
What kind of letter?
Oh, they're gonna get me.
I can't talk about it.
They got ways.
What kind of letter?
You lousy Fed... you
don't care about my skin.
That's right, punk.
I got more feeling for
the skin on a sausage.
Now what about that letter?
It was addressed to you...
Had names, information,
about all the big wheels in
the Court and the Syndicate.
He let me go so I could bring
word back to the Syndicate
that if he got knocked off, someone
was gonna send a letter to you.
What someone?
He'd never tell 'em that.
If they got their
hands on that letter,
it'd be their
game, not Ferrar's.
Now, that's all I
know... I swear!
Get him outta here.
So now the Syndicate's
in the position of protecting
the guy who stole a
million of their marbles.
And that's why they
sent their goons after us...
Afraid we'd get
Ferrar and the letter.
Imagine... in one
little envelope,
the key to the Syndicate's
dynamite closet.
If we could only get
our hands on that letter.
Yeah, we could
make confetti out of it,
throw it in the air, and
watch it snow convictions.
Left at the signal,
right for three blocks,
left past the colonial house,
then left again, past
the miniature golf course.
That's the shortcut.
How do you remember all that?
Oh, I never forget anything.
It's my only talent.
Yes, Gordon, we'll
be at the cottage soon.
What cottage?
A little summer cottage,
the first Gordon and I bought
on our second honeymoon.
I stop by there every year.
We'll need the rest by then.
Do you always carry a gun?
It makes your suit bulge.
You ought to have your
suits especially made
if you're addicted
to carrying guns.
It's neater.
I'll keep that in mind.
You're on the lam, aren't you?
You got any more questions?
Well, I was only
trying to be friendly.
I told you all about
my Gordons, didn't I?
Angels don't ask questions.
That's the main thing
that makes 'em angels.
What's funny?
You don't realize it,
but you and I are
members of the same club.
What club?
Can't you tell by
Gordon? He's a raven.
Oh? I thought he was a crow.
Same thing.
It's not a real club, but
we go by many names.
In Benjamin Franklin's time
they called us devil worshippers!
Today they call us gangsters,
murderers, immoralists...
Whatever we are,
it's all the same thing.
We're all brothers and
sisters under the skin,
and our souls
belong to the devil.
Isn't that right, dear?
What are you,
some kind of fanatic?
Oh, no! We're not fanatics!
They are!
They're the ones
that try to convert us,
make us feel guilty,
accuse us of crimes!
But we just accept
what we are, don't we?
I gotta say it, Lucy...
You... you are a little spooky,
but I must admit it's better
than traveling with
some bluenose puritan.
By 8:00 the next morning,
not a single report
from the New York,
New Jersey or Maryland
state highways had come in
concerning the Wagnall car.
At a state troopers
station in West Virginia,
Ness proposed a new plan.
They've been traveling
approximately eight hours.
At night, they can
average 45 miles an hour
without attracting
too much attention.
Less than that off
the main highway.
Obviously, that's the
way they've been traveling.
Otherwise, they would've
been spotted by now.
All right, let's say 40 then.
Traveling steadily
southwest, they'd have covered
300 to 350 miles.
Car holds how many gallons?
Eighteen.
A five-year-old car,
that make would average
about ten miles to the gallon.
That means they'd have
had to fill up twice by now.
When they get to here...
they'll be ready for a third.
That means we
contact every gas station
between these two arcs,
give them a full description
of car and occupants.
That's a lot of area.
Most of the stations
are chain outfits.
They'll contact
their own members.
We'll concentrate
on the independents.
Any questions?
No.
One more thing:
Ferrar killed his buddy
when he had no more use for him.
He won't hesitate to do the same
to Mrs. Wagnall if she
outlives her usefulness...
and that's a matter of time.
Yeah, yeah, I see.
Okay, what's her description?
42... five-foot, six inches.
Yeah, yeah, I got
it. And the car?
Blue sedan, 1931,
license number 6F-7823.
Hey!
Listen, I don't mind doin'
your guys work for you,
but when you make
me lose a customer,
that's carrying this
citizenship thing too far, hear?!
I'm leaving you here.
Sorry to spoil your
second honeymoon, Lucy,
but, uh, the car's hot.
And by now, we're probably
a very well-known couple,
so, uh, let's have the
letter I gave you back.
I can't give it back.
What do you mean you can't?
I tore it up and threw it away.
Look, lady, I got no
time for your spooky talk.
Now let's have it!
I can't. I just told you.
You want me to get rough?
You said to keep it in a
safe place, that's why I did it.
That's why you tore it
up and threw it away?
I memorized it first.
You what?!
I keep everything
of value in my head.
That's my best hiding place.
It's better than having
it lie around, isn't it?
I don't believe you.
The letter says: "To Eliot Ness.
"If you read this, I'll be dead.
"You can find my killers
among the following members
"of the Syndicate and court.
"These are the names
and how they're involved.
"The dates and places
of the transactions
"you can get them on.
First, Judge Foley..."
Oh, for crying out loud!
Should I go on?
No.
See?
You just have to
learn to trust me.
I wish you didn't
have to go yet.
The cottage is just
a few more miles,
and I'll-I'll fix you
something nice to eat
and you can take a nap
and then I'll drop
you at the crossroads.
You're sure to
get a lift from there.
A few more miles?
All right.
Move over.
Dinner will be
ready in a minute.
Smells good.
I didn't intend to
wake you till it was.
I'm up.
Bathroom is in there, in
case you'd like to wash.
Oh, thanks.
This is exactly how it began
on our second honeymoon.
Gordon was washing
and I was setting the table.
It was all gonna
be so beautiful.
Was it?
Just beautiful!
Just like it had been before.
Gordon and I were very
happy when we first got married,
until the crash.
He lost everything in the
market and he just couldn't take it.
Then everything went bad...
Our marriage, everything.
That's when I got the idea
for the second honeymoon.
I had a little money,
so we bought a car and
this cottage and tried again.
You ever been married, Gordon?
No.
Not officially.
It can be very nice.
Although I must say, these
days, I prefer my raven
for everyday living.
Still, it feels good to have a
real Gordon around once a year.
How long did you and
your husband live here?
Just a few hours.
Beautiful, beautiful hours!
Then he became his nasty,
bitter, unhappy self again,
and then he died.
Here? Mm-hmm.
But I still have those
few hours to remember.
Well, with your memory, I'll
bet it's like being back there.
It is with you here, Gordon.
Lucy... I... I'm
going to get dinner.
Why aren't you sitting down?
Lucy...
Look, if you've got something
grim to say, it can wait.
Look what I fixed
for you... pheasant!
Pheasant?!
From a can, but
I did things to it!
Well, where's yours?
Oh, I'm a vegetarian.
Taste it and see
how you like it.
Mm. Wow!
Good?
Delicious!
I guess I was
hungrier than I thought.
A good meal will make
a man forget anything.
Here, try the biscuits.
They're nice and hot.
Now, Gordon, what
were you gonna tell me?
Oh, it can wait.
Does it have something to do
with that letter you gave me?
Mm-hmm.
You're afraid I'm going to tell
the wrong people what was in it.
No reflection, Lucy, but
who can tell what you'll do?
If there was a letter to
tear up, you'd just tear it up.
That's right.
You can't tear me up,
but you can shoot me.
You shouldn't have taken matters
into your own
hands like that, Lucy!
I can't let anything
louse me up now!
Especially feelings!
You can't trust
feelings, they're a trap.
What has to be
done has to be done.
But can't we go on with
this honeymoon feeling
for a little while longer?
Please sit down, Gordon...
for a little while.
Please.
How can you go on
playing this spooky game?
That's what life
is, a spooky game!
Except when the right
two people are playing it
and then it only lasts as long
as a candle on a birthday cake.
That's not very
long, is it, Gordon?
Please sit down.
It won't change anything.
I'm only thinking of right now.
Fill 'er up, please.
Yes, ma'am.
You through, young man?
No, not yet, ma'am.
State police.
Thanks, buddy. Try
and keep her there.
It's the Wagnall car.
Ernie Berrigan's service
station on Route 30.
Check your oil?
No, thanks.
How much do I owe you?
Uh, how about, how
about your water, ma'am?
Well, you might
take a look at that.
Uh... I, uh, I don't think
I can make change
for this, ma'am.
I'll have to go down
the road a ways.
I'll rummage around
in my bag a little.
I'll make the exact change.
Should be around here somewhere.
You could sure use some
air in that front left tire, ma'am.
It's awful low, ma'am!
There it is.
Oh, yes, it's
lonely without him.
He certainly was the most
exciting Gordon of them all.
Present company
excepted, Gordon.
What's the matter?
Was I speeding?
Mrs. Wagnall? Mm-hmm.
Federal agent. My name is Ness.
You've been travelling
with a dangerous criminal.
Oh, nonsense.
I was travelling
with a gentleman.
Where is he?
He left me a few miles back.
That's why I'm going home.
I hate travelling alone.
Mind showing me
where he left you?
Of course not. Get in.
You're lucky he didn't hurt you.
The day he answered your
ad he committed two murders.
Two in the same day?
That wasn't very
nice of him, was it?
You might have made it three.
He was a very careful driver.
Mrs. Wagnall, did he give
you a letter addressed to me?
A letter?
To be mailed in case
something happened to him.
No.
Well, if you don't believe
me, you can search me.
They'll do that at
the police station.
Am I being arrested?
No, we'd just like to hear
your complete story in detail
from the time Ferrar
answered your ad.
Which way did he go?
That way.
Mr. Ness would make
a wonderful Gordon.
I mean, if he weren't
a cop, of course.
The lady was taken to Ness'
headquarters in New York.
She told what was
substantially the truth...
Editing only references
to Ferrar's letter
and the cottage.
Then, she repeated
her story again
to a stenographer
for the record.
Word for word the
way she told it to me.
The lady's got a
phenomenal memory.
Could mean she's lying.
Yeah, it could.
In any case we're going
to have to let her go.
Nothing to hold her on.
At that, she might be more
useful in her own backyard.
The Syndicate's
interested in Ferrar's letter.
They'll ring her bell.
There you are.
Where's my Gordon?
You said we
wouldn't be separated.
I've been taking
care of him myself.
He's right here in the office.
I'll get him.
You can go home
now, Mrs. Wagnall.
You finished with me?
Unless you want to repeat
your story a third time.
I don't mind,
Oh, there's my darling symbol.
Was Mr. Ness good to you?
That's fine.
He likes you.
Oh, it's too bad...
You're such a nice man to
be in this terrible profession.
If you ever come to your senses,
I'll be taking another
trip next year, okay?
In studying the transcript
of Mrs. Wagnall's statement,
Ness found a discrepancy
in the time of her trip
with Ferrar of two hours.
Acting on the hunch that
the Syndicate would be
in touch with her
about Ferrar's letter,
Ness kept Mrs. Wagnall
under constant surveillance.
After three days
with no results,
came an important development.
The Syndicate paid a
call on Mrs. Wagnall.
Rossi had seen her go
out with a marketing bag
15 minutes earlier.
Syndicate hoods.
Call Eliot.
She'll be back with her
groceries any minute.
Right.
Ness instructed
Rossman not to close in
on Mrs. Wagnall's callers.
He had a hunch they
would take her to higher-ups
for questioning about the letter
and so lead the
Untouchables to bigger game.
No, I don't have
the letter anymore,
but I memorized
every word of it.
You can tell your
fellows at the Syndicate
not to worry about me.
We're all members
of the same club.
I won't breathe a word.
Here, Gordon.
Here's your rye bread.
Now you better come
with us and repeat that
to our fellows yourself, lady.
I don't know what floor
they're taking her to.
Jack, you and
Bill watch the front.
We'll take the back stairs.
Our boys tell us
you destroyed the
letter Valentine gave you.
Is that true?
I do not talk in dark rooms
with flashlights blinding me.
You're in a rough spot, missus.
Answer the question.
Turn the lights on.
Answer the question!
It's not nice threatening
one of your own kind this way.
Lady, please.
We're members of the same club!
Is that better?
Much.
You got every word in your mind?
Correct.
And you ain't blabbed to no one?
No one.
And I don't intend to.
You have to understand
our spot, Mrs. Wagnall.
We're big business, you know,
and we can't afford to get
stuck by some loaded hairpin.
I'll give you my word in
writing, if you want me to.
Oh, there has to be
a safer way than that
to make sure you don't
break out in a case of wagjaw.
Federal agents.
The entire building's covered.
Come on out slowly.
Smoke!
There's a fire!
Oh, don't shut the door!
The smoke will kill us!
Don't!
Chances are
she won't regain
consciousness, Mr. Ness.
I'll wait anyway.
Very well.
Yes?
One moment.
It's for you.
The sergeant was
calling from West Virginia.
An eyewitness had been
found who had seen Ferrar
and Mrs. Wagnall
go into a cottage.
She had been seen leaving it,
but Ferrar had
apparently stayed behind.
So, we're all set to close in.
I'll fly down immediately.
Mr. Ness...
Thank you.
Thank you for
what you did for me.
That letter... it
said... "To Eliot Ness,
if you read this, I'll be..."
I'm sorry, I can't.
It's all right.
Easy, easy.
Gordon, my little
bird... set him free.
Mrs. Wagnall died with the names
of the Syndicate's leaders
locked in her memory.
And so, although Eliot
Ness had destroyed
the underground court,
partially crippling
the Syndicate,
he was unable,
as yet, to destroy it.
But the mystery of
Ferrar's whereabouts
was soon cleared up.
He'd been buried, along
with the other Gordons,
a victim of a heavy
dose of arsenic,
administered while sharing
Mrs. Wagnall's fantasy
of a second honeymoon.
It was the lady's way of
deep-freezing a happy memory.
But Valentine Ferrar
could claim one distinction
over the others...
With a million dollars
still securely wrapped
around his waist,
he was the richest Gordon
in Mrs. Wagnall's garden.
Just off this dirt
road, Mr. Ness.
Watch it!
Tonight's episode...
Starring Robert
Stack as Eliot Ness.
Co-starring Richard Devon
and Frank De Kova.
With special guest
star Joan Blondell.
And narrated by Walter Winchell.
September 8, 1934, 5:15 a.m.
The Morro Castle, an
American cruise liner
returning from Cuba
with 318 passengers
and a crew of 231, was ablaze
off Spring Lake, New Jersey.
All efforts to curb
the fire were in vain.
At the same time, Eliot Ness,
acting on reports
from Cuban agents,
was racing down the Jersey coast
to the scene of the disaster...
where passengers and crew
were being pulled
out of the sea.
Ness was on his way to arrest
passenger Valentine Ferrar,
racketeer, gambler,
disbarred lawyer, a founder
of the Big Syndicate...
It was reported
that Ferrar had collected
for the Syndicate,
then in control of most
of the U.S. criminal world,
over a million dollars from
their interests in Havana.
See anything of this face?
They all look the same.
Got a name?
Valentine Ferrar.
Ferrar... Ferrar, Valentine.
Drowned, reported
by an eyewitness.
The eyewitness have a name?
Name's Beggs.
Inky Beggs, Ferrar's sidekick.
Where can I find Beggs?
He just left for New York,
wrapped in a Red Cross
blanket, in a big hurry.
Beggs no sooner hit the city
than he found himself
rushed to another destination.
This time, he was not in
a hurry of his own choice.
He was being taken
to a loft building
in lower Manhattan, blindfolded,
so that he could
not retrace his steps,
if he left there alive,
to testify before
the Big Syndicate's
secret and notorious
underground court.
Don't be nervous, Inky.
We just want to
ask some questions.
The reason for this court
is to find out the truth.
You understand, Inky?
Yeah, sure.
When the Morro
Castle caught fire,
who was carrying the money?
You or Valentine?
Val.
How?
In a money belt.
Then what happened?
Then he jumped in the water.
Why didn't you jump, Inky?
I can't swim, and-and I
didn't have no life belt.
Valentine had the last one, eh?
No, now, wait,
now, I didn't say that.
He didn't have none either.
And besides, he
can swim real good.
You saw him jump
overboard and hit the water?
I seen him start to swim.
Then a-a... big chunk
of metal or something
dropped off the boat and it
hit him and he went under
and then he didn't
come up no more and...
That's all.
Am I through with?
In a hurry, Inky?
No, uh...
Welcome to Santa's
workshop, Inky.
This is how we used
to package the stuff.
We've got better ways
now... You go the route, Inky?
No, thanks, I... I only got
liquid vices, so to speak.
They call me Judge Foley...
Ever hear of me, Inky?
What've you heard?
That you're psycho.
The word is "psychic", Inky.
That means I got
extrasensory perception.
You don't have to know
what that means, Inky,
just so long as
you're impressed.
Are you impressed, Inky?
Good.
Come here.
Sit down.
I got one more
question to ask you, Inky.
All you gotta do is look
straight into my eyes...
and answer it.
If I buy your answer,
you and the
Syndicate are still cozy.
If I don't buy it, you'll
be cozy all by yourself.
Am I coming across to you, Inky?
Now, then, the question is...
Have you been
tellin' us the truth?
It's the truth,
I swear, I... I...
I told you the
truth; it's the truth!
All right, Inky.
You're free to go now.
Who is it?
Inky.
I done it.
You got it across?
The way I handled it was
beautiful, just beautiful!
Oh, she's still with me.
Who?
My angel.
How about a toast to
my lucky angel, huh, Inky?
Why not?
There we go... to her.
How about a toast to the dough?
Where is it?
Right where it always was.
It's a little wet, but, uh,
just as negotiable as ever.
Oh, we're gonna
live the life, Inky.
You and me, a pair
of kings running wild.
Mexico, South America... it's
gonna be one big celebration.
The best booze, the best
clothes, the best señoritas.
Yeah, if that angel friend
of yours don't cross you.
What?
No, my angel doesn't
operate like that.
She's with me all the way.
Look what she's
done for me already.
Tears off a piece of
lightning and... zing!
Right down on the
ship that's carrying
eight million bucks in my hands.
She lays down a
smoke screen and says,
"Take it from here,
Valentine, it's all yours."
And mine.
Sure... yours, too.
You're my partner.
Who is it?
Maintenance... there's a leak
coming from your bathroom pipe.
Get it tomorrow.
The water's coming
through the wall.
It's gotta be legit... they
wouldn't have let me go
if they didn't believe
me; he said so.
If you're crossing me...
I swear, Val, I swear.
Where is he?
Who?
I don't know who you
mean; I-I'm here alone.
You been drinking
with both hands?
We're just gonna
have to cut you up
into little filets, Inky.
No, no, please,
please, please, no!
Wait!
Drop the knife, mister.
Leave it lay!
All right, get over against
the wall, the two of you.
Me?
Yeah, you too, buddy!
What can I say,
Inky, except bye-bye.
What are you doing?
You can't kiss me off like this!
When they invented closet
doors, they also invented keyholes
to see through... buddy!
Look, I done my
best for you, Val.
Yeah, well, your best
almost caused my funeral.
And I'm too rich to die.
You can stop sweating, Mac.
You're not gonna get the topple.
I got a special à la
carte order for you.
You see this?
It's my resignation
from the Syndicate.
You're gonna deliver
a message for me...
to Judge Foley.
The bodies were
discovered by the manager
of the tourist cabins
a half hour later.
He called the police,
who notified Ness.
Inky Beggs.
That's one way of saving a cut
of that money Ferrar
collected in Cuba.
Recognize this one?
Pedro Palmas, torpedo deluxe.
Worked for the Syndicate.
This is the house manager.
Mr. Cooley, Mr. Ness.
Hello. Sit down.
Well, I told the police
everything they wanted to hear.
Fella checked in at 6:00 or so.
I didn't ask him no questions.
With five empties on my hands,
I ain't in a position to
turn someone down.
You see these men come here?
Yep.
You hear the shooting?
Well, even if I did, I
wouldn't go looking.
Ain't any of my business
what goes on inside a cabin.
You just sweep out
the bodies and forget it.
There ain't been
no bodies before.
The man who rented this
cabin, did you see him leave?
Yep.
He left 15 minutes
after the other one.
What other one?
The one no one asked about.
You mean there was a third one?
That's right, mister.
All right, Mr. Cooley, what else
have you been holding back?
Well, now, that ain't the
way you're supposed to do it.
You're supposed to
ask the right questions.
The only two times you saw
the man who rented this cabin
is when he came and
when he went, is that right?
That's a good one.
All right, Mr. Cooley,
everything would be a lot easier
if you just answer the
questions... not grade them.
Well, I saw him one other time.
I was making
coffee in the office
and I saw him go into the
telephone booth and make a call.
When was that?
Oh, about ten
minutes after he come.
He had the newspaper
open to the classified ads...
He was calling one
of them numbers
in the personal section.
How could you have
seen that from your office?
It's 30 yards away
from the phone booth.
Say, you're a pretty
sharp fella, you know that?
Now, look, Mr. Cooley...
Well, I... I don't mean I
actually saw the newspaper
while he was telephoning,
but I saw it after.
He left it in the
booth and so I took it.
One of them
personals was checked.
That's how I know.
Do you have the paper?
Nope. Burned it up in the stove.
Do you remember what it said?
Nope.
Mr. Cooley, is this
the same paper?
Yeah, yeah, that's it.
I can point out the ad.
That's it. That one.
"Man Wanted.
"Share driving chores with
lady. Destination, San Antonio.
Telephone Bayside 0-8879."
Hello, Operator...
Trace the address.
I'll try it again
in a few minutes.
That one's not connected.
It shorts all the time.
You must be Mr. Williams,
who spoke to me on the
phone regarding my ad.
I'm Mrs. Wagnall.
Welcome. Welcome, sir.
You're the third
response to my ad,
but absolutely the
only possible one.
Do sit down, Mr. Williams.
Do.
Thank you.
Yes, it would be a blotch
on my husband's memory
to have flotsam or jetsam
in his seat behind the wheel.
He was a real snob.
That is Gordon.
Oh, be quiet, Gordon.
His name is Gordon, too.
Would you mind too awfully if I
called you Gordon, Mr. Williams?
New names are such
a hurdle to get over.
Is there something
wrong, Gordon?
Wrong? Uh, no, no.
I-I... I was just wondering
if we could get
going right away.
Oh, no. Not till tomorrow.
I always leave on the ninth.
Always?
That's the purpose of this trip.
Every year, since the first
Gordon died, five years ago
on September the ninth,
I always go on a
second honeymoon...
With a gentleman.
Isn't that nice?
Yes, it's... well,
you might call it
a commemoration
second honeymoon.
That is to say, there are
no familiarities involved.
Oh, of course, of course.
You must understand that.
You can trust me, Mrs. Wagnall.
Lucy... that's what the
first Gordon called me.
Although my real name's Hannah.
He called me Lucy for Lucifer.
It was his little joke.
He was so dishy.
Yes.
Uh... well, Lucy,
I've got an idea,
The ninth starts at midnight,
so why don't we get an
early start and leave then?
We've got just about
a half hour to go.
Well, that might be
all right... why not?
I'm nearly packed.
Well, swell.
Well, then I'll just make myself
at home with the other Gordons
while, uh, while you finish up.
I won't be long, Gordon.
Will you answer that, Gordon?
Sure thing.
Hello.
Hello?
I'm calling about
that ad in the paper.
I'm sorry, mister,
you're too late.
"Gone on vacation.
"No deliveries
till further notice.
"Mrs. Gordon Wagnall."
Ness got a description
of Mrs. Wagnall
from her neighbors, and
information about her car
from the Division
of Motor Vehicles.
He had them circulated
in an all-points bulletin,
along with the dossier
on Valentine Ferrar.
Here's the information
we got from the fingerprints
on the third man who was in
that cabin... the one that got away.
William "Bo" Arends... One
of the Syndicate's punks.
See if you can
pick him up. Right.
Then with the
assistance of state police,
arranged for
roadblocks to be set up
at various places along
the main highways.
Stop it.
You got a real attachment
for that bird, haven't you?
Oh, yes. He's my symbol.
Well, I don't believe
in pets, personally.
You get too attached to them.
Hey, slow down so I can
see which way to turn, huh?
Hey, you didn't give me a
chance to see which way to go.
I've made this trip
many times before.
No reflection,
but I'd feel better if
you had a road map.
I've got a road map, Gordon.
Where?
It's hidden in a safe place,
where I keep all my valuables.
Well, what good's that
when you're travelling?
You ought to learn to
trust people, Gordon.
It'll make it easier all around.
No offense.
What's wrong?
Gordon's snack.
He always has a midnight snack.
I forgot it in the
rush to leave.
I won't be a minute.
I'd like a piece of rye bread,
please... stale... no butter.
You gonna eat it here or
your want to take it out?
It's not for me...
It's for Gordon.
Yes, ma'am.
That'll be two cents, please.
Keep the change.
Maybe I ought to
drive for a while.
Make a little time.
All righty, Gordon...
but not too fast.
We don't want the
police stopping us.
Reports from the
various roadblocks
were phoned in regularly to
Ness' New Jersey headquarters.
Local police units had alerted
each man to the emergency.
Ness.
Mr. Ness, I spotted that
car in the all-points bulletin.
Where is it?
The cemetery road
outside of Lambertsville.
Anybody in it?
No, but they may
be in the cemetery.
We'll be right out.
How much further?
Just off this dirt
road, Mr. Ness.
Watch it!
We haven't got a prayer
with those headlights on us.
I'll try to get their
headlights and draw their fire.
Get that chopper.
How is it?
I'm okay, Eliot.
I'll get you to a doctor.
Save us the trouble
of picking him up.
Take him to headquarters.
And now back to
The Untouchables.
One of the things that
had been puzzling Ness
was that the Syndicate
had apparently been making
no moves to locate Ferrar.
He had anticipated
just the opposite.
Ferrar ran out with the
Cuban collection money.
How come the Syndicate's
turning the other cheek?
I never heard of no Syndicate.
I don't know this guy Ferrar.
Maybe I can refresh your memory.
Two men were
murdered in a tourist cabin
near Newark last night.
Your fingerprints
were found there.
Oh, no. You don't
stick me with that.
Your prints and those
of the murdered men.
What about his?
Whose?
Ferrar's?
All right, you
tricked me into that.
That ain't legal.
I'll have you impeached.
I wanna see a lawyer!
How'd you like to be stuck with
a double murder rap, Arends?
I didn't have nothin' to
do with knockin' 'em off.
It was Ferrar. He did it.
I thought he was
gonna get me, too.
What stopped him?
The letter... he had a letter.
What kind of letter?
Oh, they're gonna get me.
I can't talk about it.
They got ways.
What kind of letter?
You lousy Fed... you
don't care about my skin.
That's right, punk.
I got more feeling for
the skin on a sausage.
Now what about that letter?
It was addressed to you...
Had names, information,
about all the big wheels in
the Court and the Syndicate.
He let me go so I could bring
word back to the Syndicate
that if he got knocked off, someone
was gonna send a letter to you.
What someone?
He'd never tell 'em that.
If they got their
hands on that letter,
it'd be their
game, not Ferrar's.
Now, that's all I
know... I swear!
Get him outta here.
So now the Syndicate's
in the position of protecting
the guy who stole a
million of their marbles.
And that's why they
sent their goons after us...
Afraid we'd get
Ferrar and the letter.
Imagine... in one
little envelope,
the key to the Syndicate's
dynamite closet.
If we could only get
our hands on that letter.
Yeah, we could
make confetti out of it,
throw it in the air, and
watch it snow convictions.
Left at the signal,
right for three blocks,
left past the colonial house,
then left again, past
the miniature golf course.
That's the shortcut.
How do you remember all that?
Oh, I never forget anything.
It's my only talent.
Yes, Gordon, we'll
be at the cottage soon.
What cottage?
A little summer cottage,
the first Gordon and I bought
on our second honeymoon.
I stop by there every year.
We'll need the rest by then.
Do you always carry a gun?
It makes your suit bulge.
You ought to have your
suits especially made
if you're addicted
to carrying guns.
It's neater.
I'll keep that in mind.
You're on the lam, aren't you?
You got any more questions?
Well, I was only
trying to be friendly.
I told you all about
my Gordons, didn't I?
Angels don't ask questions.
That's the main thing
that makes 'em angels.
What's funny?
You don't realize it,
but you and I are
members of the same club.
What club?
Can't you tell by
Gordon? He's a raven.
Oh? I thought he was a crow.
Same thing.
It's not a real club, but
we go by many names.
In Benjamin Franklin's time
they called us devil worshippers!
Today they call us gangsters,
murderers, immoralists...
Whatever we are,
it's all the same thing.
We're all brothers and
sisters under the skin,
and our souls
belong to the devil.
Isn't that right, dear?
What are you,
some kind of fanatic?
Oh, no! We're not fanatics!
They are!
They're the ones
that try to convert us,
make us feel guilty,
accuse us of crimes!
But we just accept
what we are, don't we?
I gotta say it, Lucy...
You... you are a little spooky,
but I must admit it's better
than traveling with
some bluenose puritan.
By 8:00 the next morning,
not a single report
from the New York,
New Jersey or Maryland
state highways had come in
concerning the Wagnall car.
At a state troopers
station in West Virginia,
Ness proposed a new plan.
They've been traveling
approximately eight hours.
At night, they can
average 45 miles an hour
without attracting
too much attention.
Less than that off
the main highway.
Obviously, that's the
way they've been traveling.
Otherwise, they would've
been spotted by now.
All right, let's say 40 then.
Traveling steadily
southwest, they'd have covered
300 to 350 miles.
Car holds how many gallons?
Eighteen.
A five-year-old car,
that make would average
about ten miles to the gallon.
That means they'd have
had to fill up twice by now.
When they get to here...
they'll be ready for a third.
That means we
contact every gas station
between these two arcs,
give them a full description
of car and occupants.
That's a lot of area.
Most of the stations
are chain outfits.
They'll contact
their own members.
We'll concentrate
on the independents.
Any questions?
No.
One more thing:
Ferrar killed his buddy
when he had no more use for him.
He won't hesitate to do the same
to Mrs. Wagnall if she
outlives her usefulness...
and that's a matter of time.
Yeah, yeah, I see.
Okay, what's her description?
42... five-foot, six inches.
Yeah, yeah, I got
it. And the car?
Blue sedan, 1931,
license number 6F-7823.
Hey!
Listen, I don't mind doin'
your guys work for you,
but when you make
me lose a customer,
that's carrying this
citizenship thing too far, hear?!
I'm leaving you here.
Sorry to spoil your
second honeymoon, Lucy,
but, uh, the car's hot.
And by now, we're probably
a very well-known couple,
so, uh, let's have the
letter I gave you back.
I can't give it back.
What do you mean you can't?
I tore it up and threw it away.
Look, lady, I got no
time for your spooky talk.
Now let's have it!
I can't. I just told you.
You want me to get rough?
You said to keep it in a
safe place, that's why I did it.
That's why you tore it
up and threw it away?
I memorized it first.
You what?!
I keep everything
of value in my head.
That's my best hiding place.
It's better than having
it lie around, isn't it?
I don't believe you.
The letter says: "To Eliot Ness.
"If you read this, I'll be dead.
"You can find my killers
among the following members
"of the Syndicate and court.
"These are the names
and how they're involved.
"The dates and places
of the transactions
"you can get them on.
First, Judge Foley..."
Oh, for crying out loud!
Should I go on?
No.
See?
You just have to
learn to trust me.
I wish you didn't
have to go yet.
The cottage is just
a few more miles,
and I'll-I'll fix you
something nice to eat
and you can take a nap
and then I'll drop
you at the crossroads.
You're sure to
get a lift from there.
A few more miles?
All right.
Move over.
Dinner will be
ready in a minute.
Smells good.
I didn't intend to
wake you till it was.
I'm up.
Bathroom is in there, in
case you'd like to wash.
Oh, thanks.
This is exactly how it began
on our second honeymoon.
Gordon was washing
and I was setting the table.
It was all gonna
be so beautiful.
Was it?
Just beautiful!
Just like it had been before.
Gordon and I were very
happy when we first got married,
until the crash.
He lost everything in the
market and he just couldn't take it.
Then everything went bad...
Our marriage, everything.
That's when I got the idea
for the second honeymoon.
I had a little money,
so we bought a car and
this cottage and tried again.
You ever been married, Gordon?
No.
Not officially.
It can be very nice.
Although I must say, these
days, I prefer my raven
for everyday living.
Still, it feels good to have a
real Gordon around once a year.
How long did you and
your husband live here?
Just a few hours.
Beautiful, beautiful hours!
Then he became his nasty,
bitter, unhappy self again,
and then he died.
Here? Mm-hmm.
But I still have those
few hours to remember.
Well, with your memory, I'll
bet it's like being back there.
It is with you here, Gordon.
Lucy... I... I'm
going to get dinner.
Why aren't you sitting down?
Lucy...
Look, if you've got something
grim to say, it can wait.
Look what I fixed
for you... pheasant!
Pheasant?!
From a can, but
I did things to it!
Well, where's yours?
Oh, I'm a vegetarian.
Taste it and see
how you like it.
Mm. Wow!
Good?
Delicious!
I guess I was
hungrier than I thought.
A good meal will make
a man forget anything.
Here, try the biscuits.
They're nice and hot.
Now, Gordon, what
were you gonna tell me?
Oh, it can wait.
Does it have something to do
with that letter you gave me?
Mm-hmm.
You're afraid I'm going to tell
the wrong people what was in it.
No reflection, Lucy, but
who can tell what you'll do?
If there was a letter to
tear up, you'd just tear it up.
That's right.
You can't tear me up,
but you can shoot me.
You shouldn't have taken matters
into your own
hands like that, Lucy!
I can't let anything
louse me up now!
Especially feelings!
You can't trust
feelings, they're a trap.
What has to be
done has to be done.
But can't we go on with
this honeymoon feeling
for a little while longer?
Please sit down, Gordon...
for a little while.
Please.
How can you go on
playing this spooky game?
That's what life
is, a spooky game!
Except when the right
two people are playing it
and then it only lasts as long
as a candle on a birthday cake.
That's not very
long, is it, Gordon?
Please sit down.
It won't change anything.
I'm only thinking of right now.
Fill 'er up, please.
Yes, ma'am.
You through, young man?
No, not yet, ma'am.
State police.
Thanks, buddy. Try
and keep her there.
It's the Wagnall car.
Ernie Berrigan's service
station on Route 30.
Check your oil?
No, thanks.
How much do I owe you?
Uh, how about, how
about your water, ma'am?
Well, you might
take a look at that.
Uh... I, uh, I don't think
I can make change
for this, ma'am.
I'll have to go down
the road a ways.
I'll rummage around
in my bag a little.
I'll make the exact change.
Should be around here somewhere.
You could sure use some
air in that front left tire, ma'am.
It's awful low, ma'am!
There it is.
Oh, yes, it's
lonely without him.
He certainly was the most
exciting Gordon of them all.
Present company
excepted, Gordon.
What's the matter?
Was I speeding?
Mrs. Wagnall? Mm-hmm.
Federal agent. My name is Ness.
You've been travelling
with a dangerous criminal.
Oh, nonsense.
I was travelling
with a gentleman.
Where is he?
He left me a few miles back.
That's why I'm going home.
I hate travelling alone.
Mind showing me
where he left you?
Of course not. Get in.
You're lucky he didn't hurt you.
The day he answered your
ad he committed two murders.
Two in the same day?
That wasn't very
nice of him, was it?
You might have made it three.
He was a very careful driver.
Mrs. Wagnall, did he give
you a letter addressed to me?
A letter?
To be mailed in case
something happened to him.
No.
Well, if you don't believe
me, you can search me.
They'll do that at
the police station.
Am I being arrested?
No, we'd just like to hear
your complete story in detail
from the time Ferrar
answered your ad.
Which way did he go?
That way.
Mr. Ness would make
a wonderful Gordon.
I mean, if he weren't
a cop, of course.
The lady was taken to Ness'
headquarters in New York.
She told what was
substantially the truth...
Editing only references
to Ferrar's letter
and the cottage.
Then, she repeated
her story again
to a stenographer
for the record.
Word for word the
way she told it to me.
The lady's got a
phenomenal memory.
Could mean she's lying.
Yeah, it could.
In any case we're going
to have to let her go.
Nothing to hold her on.
At that, she might be more
useful in her own backyard.
The Syndicate's
interested in Ferrar's letter.
They'll ring her bell.
There you are.
Where's my Gordon?
You said we
wouldn't be separated.
I've been taking
care of him myself.
He's right here in the office.
I'll get him.
You can go home
now, Mrs. Wagnall.
You finished with me?
Unless you want to repeat
your story a third time.
I don't mind,
Oh, there's my darling symbol.
Was Mr. Ness good to you?
That's fine.
He likes you.
Oh, it's too bad...
You're such a nice man to
be in this terrible profession.
If you ever come to your senses,
I'll be taking another
trip next year, okay?
In studying the transcript
of Mrs. Wagnall's statement,
Ness found a discrepancy
in the time of her trip
with Ferrar of two hours.
Acting on the hunch that
the Syndicate would be
in touch with her
about Ferrar's letter,
Ness kept Mrs. Wagnall
under constant surveillance.
After three days
with no results,
came an important development.
The Syndicate paid a
call on Mrs. Wagnall.
Rossi had seen her go
out with a marketing bag
15 minutes earlier.
Syndicate hoods.
Call Eliot.
She'll be back with her
groceries any minute.
Right.
Ness instructed
Rossman not to close in
on Mrs. Wagnall's callers.
He had a hunch they
would take her to higher-ups
for questioning about the letter
and so lead the
Untouchables to bigger game.
No, I don't have
the letter anymore,
but I memorized
every word of it.
You can tell your
fellows at the Syndicate
not to worry about me.
We're all members
of the same club.
I won't breathe a word.
Here, Gordon.
Here's your rye bread.
Now you better come
with us and repeat that
to our fellows yourself, lady.
I don't know what floor
they're taking her to.
Jack, you and
Bill watch the front.
We'll take the back stairs.
Our boys tell us
you destroyed the
letter Valentine gave you.
Is that true?
I do not talk in dark rooms
with flashlights blinding me.
You're in a rough spot, missus.
Answer the question.
Turn the lights on.
Answer the question!
It's not nice threatening
one of your own kind this way.
Lady, please.
We're members of the same club!
Is that better?
Much.
You got every word in your mind?
Correct.
And you ain't blabbed to no one?
No one.
And I don't intend to.
You have to understand
our spot, Mrs. Wagnall.
We're big business, you know,
and we can't afford to get
stuck by some loaded hairpin.
I'll give you my word in
writing, if you want me to.
Oh, there has to be
a safer way than that
to make sure you don't
break out in a case of wagjaw.
Federal agents.
The entire building's covered.
Come on out slowly.
Smoke!
There's a fire!
Oh, don't shut the door!
The smoke will kill us!
Don't!
Chances are
she won't regain
consciousness, Mr. Ness.
I'll wait anyway.
Very well.
Yes?
One moment.
It's for you.
The sergeant was
calling from West Virginia.
An eyewitness had been
found who had seen Ferrar
and Mrs. Wagnall
go into a cottage.
She had been seen leaving it,
but Ferrar had
apparently stayed behind.
So, we're all set to close in.
I'll fly down immediately.
Mr. Ness...
Thank you.
Thank you for
what you did for me.
That letter... it
said... "To Eliot Ness,
if you read this, I'll be..."
I'm sorry, I can't.
It's all right.
Easy, easy.
Gordon, my little
bird... set him free.
Mrs. Wagnall died with the names
of the Syndicate's leaders
locked in her memory.
And so, although Eliot
Ness had destroyed
the underground court,
partially crippling
the Syndicate,
he was unable,
as yet, to destroy it.
But the mystery of
Ferrar's whereabouts
was soon cleared up.
He'd been buried, along
with the other Gordons,
a victim of a heavy
dose of arsenic,
administered while sharing
Mrs. Wagnall's fantasy
of a second honeymoon.
It was the lady's way of
deep-freezing a happy memory.
But Valentine Ferrar
could claim one distinction
over the others...
With a million dollars
still securely wrapped
around his waist,
he was the richest Gordon
in Mrs. Wagnall's garden.