The Untouchables (1959–1963): Season 2, Episode 32 - 90-Proof Dame - full transcript

Nate Kester is a burlesque theatre operator who decides to branch out into the lucrative brandy business. He is producing his own brandy, of very poor quality, and using a fancy French label to try and pass it off as de Bouverais cognac. He realizes that if his scheme is to work, he will have to ensure that the real stuff is unavailable for comparison to the rot gut he will be marketing. He manages to destroy the principal supplier of the real stuff but Etienne de Bouverais himself comes to Chicago to put a new wholesaler in place. When he kills off de Bouverais he finds he has a formidable foe in the form of Madame de Bouverais, the former Marcie McKuen, at one time a dancer in his theatre. Eliot Ness tries to convince her to cooperate with the Feds to bring Kester down but she has her own plans to get even her former employer.

Ness?

Come out and meet
a friend of yours.

You don't come out, she's dead!

Tonight's episode...

Starring Robert
Stack as Eliot Ness.

Co-starring Joanna Barnes...

and Steven Geray.

With special guest
star Steve Cochran.

Narrated by Walter Winchell.

April, 1932.

Chicago ruled by
its underworld czars.



One of the strongest:
Nate Kestor.

Former henchman of Capone's

and still a very big
noise with the Mob,

he maintained a
pretense of legality

by owning and running
the Odeon Burlesque.

Kestor's shows were
notoriously underdressed.

His girls wore just enough
to cover his real operation.

Well, well, Bogar.

Come in, come in.

Listen, Kestor,

anytime you want to talk to me,

you've got a telephone.

Well, I, uh, kind of wanted

to see your face
when I told you.



Told me what?

You got a top business in
brandy, ain't you, Henry?

How much territory you got?

Five, six states?

I thought you were
going to tell me something.

From now on, you sell
nothing but De Bouverais.

Now, that's nice to know,

considering that's all I've
been selling, De Bouverais.

Not my De Bouverais.

I just started making it.

So Ness finally did it, huh?

Ran you out of the
whiskey business.

Nah, nah, just a
few lousy raids.

But there's less
competition in brandy.

You know that, Henry.

A man can make a couple
of honest bucks with this.

You'll never swing it, Nate.

Why not?

That's mine, this is yours.

The real McCoy,
the import stuff.

You going to try and tell
me there's a difference, huh?

Just like two Siamese
twins in a pod, huh?

Now, who could tell
one from the other?

Only the customers.

You don't fool
brandy drinkers, Nate,

no matter what label
you put on your slop.

Now, wait a minute, Henry.

That ain't nice.

You ought to at least
taste it before you talk.

Here.

Just like I said.

It's slop.

Maybe you'd better
have another taste, Henry.

Better?

It's still slop.

All right, that's
enough for now.

Every day, Henry.

It's going to start
tasting better every day.

You might as well
make up your mind.

This is the stuff
you're gonna be selling.

Get him out.

Nate? Hmm?

He's right.

Brandy drinkers
know what they want.

They want the real stuff,
the imported De Bouverais.

So we're giving them the
imported De Bouverais.

We're making it.

You ain't going to fool
anybody with a label.

Not when the
real stuff's around.

Not when they can compare.

Who said they're
going to compare?

Well, how do you stop 'em?

That give you any ideas?

Stop playing games.

Get them smashed.

Hitting Bogar right
where he lives.

It seems kind of a shame.

This stuff is all 90 proof.

Go down to his office
first thing in the morning

and give him the good news.

How long is it going take you?

Another ten minutes, maybe.

Another ten minutes,
for sure, I'll be in the car.

Well, that's it.

Maybe tonight we
can get some sleep.

Four nights in a row.

Close up one hole,
the rats find another.

Better run that through the lab.

I can tell you now
what the report will say.

Sure. New label,
same old poison.

Let's close up shop
and get some sleep.

Ness.

Ness, how would you like
to make a killing tonight?

200 cases of good
stuff, the McCoy.

Who is this?

McKeon Street
between Bruce and Olive,

in the old church.

Look, if you're trying to...

Did you put the car away?

Why? We going someplace?

To church.

♪ ♪

De Bouverais.

Isn't that the stuff
Bogar's been running in?

Yeah, if it's the McCoy.

He said it was.

Who? Who'd want to
knock over 200 cases for us?

And then phone
in to tell us about it?

Maybe somebody
who's out to get Bogar.

Yeah, but why toss
all this good stuff away?

That's right.

Whatever happened to hijacking?

I haven't got the answers,
but don't stop asking.

Mr. Ness?

Thompson, The Morning Chronicle.

Thanks for the tip.

Well, it looks like I
beat the competitors.

Rewrite that.

Waterbury, The Clarion.

Looks like you had a ball.

Pretty important
hit, huh, Mr. Ness?

No comment.

Well, of course you
know whose stuff it was?

No comment.

Well, can I promise our
readers any further action?

It couldn't be someone
has Mr. Ness worried?

No comment.

Okay, Morty.

Hobson.

Is Eliot Ness there?

Just coming in. Hold on.

Ness speaking.

Mr. Ness, I'd like to
do you a real, big favor.

You might have to
stand in line. Who's this?

That doesn't matter.

Trace line three.

I can hand you the
biggest boy in the class.

Booze, houses, dope...

He's got his finger
in a lot of dirty pies,

and I can hand him
to you, Mr. Ness.

I can tell you how and where.

Just like that, for nothing?

For one answer; just
tell me one little thing.

Did you smash that
brandy last night?

Why?

Because those 200
cases were mine.

90-proof stuff.

Merchandise Kestor
can't compete with.

Kestor?

Is he bottling brandy?

He's bottling hogwash and
trying to call it De Bouverais.

Where?

You haven't answered yet.

Was that you last night?

No.

You said Kestor.

I want him. I want him bad.

Well, you've got him.

Hello?

Hello, you all right?

Ted?

Right. Thank you.

North Side.

Okay to clean?

I always give
Mr. Bogar extra time.

Very particular.

Very particular.

Well, he wouldn't
win any beauty contest

after being worked over
with a broken bottle like that.

You say you were talking to him?

He was talking to me.

Eliot?

Maybe this means something.

Postal telegraph.

Did you find a telegram on him?

No. No telegram.

And we've been all
through the place.

He might have thrown it away.

If he ever got it.

We don't know
that it was Bogar's.

We can find out.

Operator? Postal
telegraph, please.

You think somebody
else could have opened it?

Maybe.

Okay, boys, take him out.

Postal telegraph?

I'd like a confirmation, please.

Henry Bogar, 790 North Ames.

Yes, it was delivered.

Rico, you'd better
check out the house.

Doorman, elevator
boys, maintenance.

Maybe somebody
noticed something. Right.

Thank you. Yes.

That's it. Yes, thank you.

Much obliged.

Well, it was Bogar's
telegram all right.

It was sent from New
York today, 10:06 a.m.

"Loss reported morning papers.

"Flying out immediately.

Meet me at the
airport, 7:30 p.m."

And it's signed "De Bouverais."

The plane was on
schedule for a change.

You sure you're
gonna know him, Nate?

Seen his picture in the
paper a dozen times.

De Bouverais is a very old firm.

They get lots of publicity.

There.

Mine are this, this and this.

For a pretty old firm, he's
got some young ideas.

Yeah, smart ideas
bringing that along.

Now isn't that just too nice.

Hey, that's Ness.

Mr. De Bouverais?

Yes? I'm Marquis de Bouverais

and my wife the Marquise.

How do you do?

I'm a government agent.

My name is Ness.

The name isn't
unfamiliar, monsieur.

Am I under arrest?

Not of all, but I would
like to talk to you

if you'll do me the
favor, unofficially.

No... Fait comme
il dit, Étienne.

Il peut faire beaucoup dommage.

Va causer avec lui.

Et toi, ma chère...
Je vais à l'hôtel.

Je suis épuisée.

Tout sera bien. Bon.

My wife will go on to the hotel,

unless you propose
to hold her, too.

I'm not holding you.

Hotel Burgundy.

Alex.

Get her.

I'm not intimidated, monsieur.

I've broken none of your laws.

I ship no brandy into this
country, only to Canada.

But you came to Chicago.

I have friends here.

Henry Bogar?

Yes.

I would say Monsieur
Bogar is a friend.

Was a friend.

He was murdered this morning.

Who?

We're betting on a
man named Kestor.

We think he destroyed
that brandy last night.

All the newspaper
stories carried your name.

Kestor tossed us a fish.

He likes to joke.

There's one for you.

He's making your five star.

Anyone can buy it,
even a federal agent.

Oh, that's impossible.

That's my label and my bottle.

That's as far as it goes.

So he doesn't want
your stuff around.

People might remember
what brandy can taste like.

He killed Bogar to keep
you out of the market.

He'll kill anyone else
you make a deal with.

You are warning me, monsieur.

Suggesting.

But it would please you to keep
my brandy out of the country.

You've got the
rest of the world.

You make it so simple.

So simple to close off
our largest single market.

To say to hundreds
of families on our lands;

"This year we'll only
sell half of our brandy.

"Soon you will
half of your clothes,

"half of your food,
half of your money,

half of the things
for your children."

Monsieur, since 1780,

these people always
looked to my family.

I must sell my
brandy wherever I can.

You must forgive me;
my wife is waiting for me.

Marcie, welcome home.

Thanks for your
welcoming committee, Nate.

It had real showmanship.

What do you want?

Five years.

You've done all
right for yourself.

You're some kind of a
countess or something, ain't you?

A marquise.

You get your laugh, Nate.

The Marquise de Bouverais.

No laugh.

I just want to help you.

Help? Sending your
goons to pick me up?

Well, I, uh, I didn't
tell the Cicero boys.

They're still mad, huh?

These pretty Paris clothes
wouldn't look very nice

on something floating
face down in the lake.

If you're trying to help, you
could forget you saw me.

Uh... Yeah, but, uh...

I don't know, Marcie,
the boys might not like it

if they thought I was
holding out on them.

All right, Nate,
what do you want?

Want?

What else?

You haven't changed
that much in five years.

Oh, now...

I got a picture of
you helping me.

Like you helped
me five years ago

when I was running from the Mob?

I was right under your
nose in your own chorus,

and you didn't even
know I was alive.

I knew.

And now all of a sudden,
you're so buddy-buddy.

Why?

Go on, Nate, you can tell me.

I'm a big girl now.

I'm 23 going on 108.

Okay, Marcie.

This guy you married, he makes
this De Bouverais brandy, right?

I make it, too.

Yeah.

Have been for a
couple of months,

and I don't like competition.

I, uh... I could just run
your boy out of town,

but, uh, I'd rather trade.

Trade?

You keep this pretty face,
and I keep my territory.

You talk to your Frenchie,

and I don't talk to
the boys from Cicero.

You see, I don't want no
more imported De Bouverais

in Chicago.

Yeah, but, Nate,
you don't understand.

It's different in France.

A wife's got nothing
to do with business.

Well, a wife has plenty
to do with her husband.

Okay.

But, uh, suppose the boys
from Cicero find out you're here.

All right, Nate.

I'll call you.

I got a deal?

You got a deal.

She could grab the first
plane and forget about it, too.

She ain't gonna grab no plane.

She ain't gonna forget about it.

A shape like that, she'll
have you seeing double.

She could play you
for a 24-karat sucker.

Nobody plays me for a sucker!

No, nothing, Eliot.

I've checked out
almost everybody.

Yeah. All except the janitor.

He had to go downtown
and buy supplies.

Oh, and the elevator
man; he went off at noon.

I'll check him out
in the morning.

Sure, I'm coming in.

So she's going to forget, huh?

Like you said,

nobody plays you for a sucker.

Oh, dear. Sorry.

It was for me.

It was a warning for me,
and they could have hurt you.

Please, let's get out of here.

We can leave. We
can take the late plane.

I can't. Please, for me?

I can't, I've made appointments.

I was going to tell you later.

Our brandy will continue
coming to Chicago.

I've already made arrangements

for someone to
take Bogar's place.

Early the next morning, Ness
and Rossi were at the apartment

to check out the employees
Rossi had missed.

The janitor had seen
nothing the day before.

And the elevator
man had not arrived.

He was due on the job at 8:00.

At a quarter past,
he still had not shown.

You think I carry a gun?

You're dreaming.

You're Wally Dakin.

You were on the
elevator yesterday.

So what?

You got no call to
roust me around.

Hey, look, I ain't no dumbo.

I know my rights.

You can't hold me.
I didn't do nothing.

You ran. Why?

Mister, I asked you a question.

Why? Okay.

Okay, I'll tell you.

You were right.

I seen them.

Who?

Three of them.

They never knew I was there.

I come down to the cellar
to grab a smoke, you know?

And they come sneaking
down the back stairs.

Only they weren't
wasting no time.

They headed for the alley.

And one of them says,
"Get the car, Alex."

Alex Brosak.

Nate Kestor's boy.

These three?

Them three.

We'll take you down,
you can identify them.

Now? When we pick them up.

Yeah, but look, I
got a job, you know?

This is my shift.

If you want me, I get a
two-hour break at 12:00.

All right, we'll
send a car for you.

Okay. Okay, thanks.

We'll have to pick
up the warrants.

Kestor won't even
know what hit him.

Who?

Nobody, Mr. Kestor. I'm nobody.

Except I run the elevator
where Bogar lived.

Okay, say it.

That's funny.

That's what Mr. Ness
keeps yelling.

Ness?

Yeah. He's riding me
pretty hard, Mr. Kestor.

He wants me to admit I seen
you yesterday in the building,

right after Bogar was killed.

Okay, how much?

Well, I got my eye on a
new roadster, you know.

Two grand?

Come down to the
theater and pick it up.

I can't, I got to
get back to work.

But if you want to
send it up here...

I'll send it up.

Just ask for Wally Dakin.

Thanks.

Dakin? Get in.

I'll take it up a ways.

We'll stop between floors.

I don't want no lousy
tenants barging in.

You bring it?

Yeah, I brought it.

Swell.

Give it to me. Yeah.

No...

Hey, what's the big idea?

You can't go in there.

You've got company, Kestor.

Walk right in.

I've got a strong stomach.

Put on your coat.

I'm going someplace?

Someplace.

Downtown, the
state pen, the chair.

When you talk like that,
you've got to have a warrant.

All right.

Oh, I... I almost forgot.

Uh, somebody left this
number for you to call.

Help yourself.

Hello?

Hello. This is Ness.

Rico.

Yes, Rico.

Wally Dagan's has been killed.

What?

He was murdered in an elevator.

When?

An hour ago.

Shall I stick around?

No, no. Come on in.

I'm on my way.

Right.

I'll get my coat.

Thanks for the phone.

Is there, uh, anything
else I can do for you?

You've just done it.

It's after 4:00.

You want a cup of coffee?

Go on, Irma.

Marcie?

La Marquise de Bouverais.

You've stepped up in class.

I read it Marcie McKuen.

Marcella McKuen,
born in Cincinnati,

showed up here and
got a job with Kester.

A burlecue queen at 17.

Sixteen, Mr. Ness.

Sixteen.

Larry Kopke's girl for a year,

until a tommy
gun cooled him off,

and the Mob thought
you'd set him up for it.

Five years ago you
shook loose and ran,

now you're right back
where you started.

Right back with Kestor.

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

Report from the Hotel
Burgandy switchboard.

You called Kestor's
office at 2:00... he was out.

You left a message
you'd call back later.

What do you want?

How much have you
told your husband?

What do you want?!

Short and sweet. I
want Nate Kestor.

I want you to help
me put him away.

Go take a walk around the Loop.

You can pick up
plenty of stoolies there...

$20 a head.

I'm not for sale!

I was wrong.

You haven't stepped up in class.

You belong with Kestor.

Yeah?

Nate? It's Marcie.
Are you alone?

Yeah. Nobody's here.

Nate, I've got to talk to you.

Well sure, why not?

Ain't we buddies?

I haven't told him yet.

Not yet?

Well, I couldn't
tell him last night.

He was too angry.

He thought that warning
was meant for him.

What's the matter with today?

He left early this
morning for Canada.

He had to talk to some people.

He'll be back for dinner.

I'll tell him then.

Look, Nate, you can trust me.

Sure I can.

Thanks, Nate.

Thank you very much.

Forget it, pal.

Nate...

I got something to tell you.

Beat it, baby.

When are you going
to learn to knock?!

Nobody plays you
for a sucker, huh?

You know where De
Bouverais was today?

Of course, in Canada.

You know why?

He's arranging to ship
down here to Hermanos.

Hermanos?

Every stop we made,
that's all we heard.

He's got a deal
to replace Bogar.

What can I do?

Taxi.

Hermano's insisted, and
after all he is a customer.

I will only be one hour.

I promise.

'Tienne, I want to leave.

I want to go back.

Soon.

Now.

Please, darling,
if you love me...

Of course.

I will make the reservation
for the morning plane.

Now go back to the hotel
and start packing, madame.

I promised Hermanos
I would call him.

'Tienne... I love you very much.

Hotel Burgandy.

You'd better call an ambulance.

All right, let's stand back!

Less than an hour after
De Bouverais was murdered,

Eliot Ness arrived at
the Hotel Burgandy.

Upstairs, Marcie was packing.

There was only one
thought in her mind.

Tomorrow she would
be leaving Chicago.

Who is it?

Who is it?

Eliot Ness.

Do you know what time it is?

Look, you want to talk
to me, you've got all day.

Look, we've got
nothing to talk about.

Now beat it before my
husband comes home.

He isn't coming home.

He's dead.

No witnesses, no clues.

They did a pretty good job.

I'm wondering how
they knew where he'd be.

I'm wondering who
set him up for them.

Why don't you ask
your Ouija board?

Is there anything else
you want to tell me?

That's all.

Except I've had to tell other
women their husbands were dead,

and believe it or not, they
had the decency to cry.

You have a nice
shoulder, Mr. Ness.

And I'm sure it would
be wonderful to cry on,

but no thanks, I am
fresh out of tears.

There's nothing else
you want to tell me?

Except get out!

It's better this way.

A half a dozen people
swear we're here,

then they won't be lying.

You're pretty hard to find.

No table complete
without a dame.

But three to one...

do you like your odds that long?

He's dead.

Lots of people are dead.

Lots of people
aren't my husband.

De Bouverais?

That's tough. When?

Tonight.

That's really a
lousy break, Marcie.

Baby, I don't
have to tell you...

He's dead.

Now you do business with me.

Not a chance, not a chance.

Baby, I can't afford
to peddle your stuff.

I make five times the
profit when I make it myself.

How long do you think you
can go on making it yourself?

It's a lemon.

It hasn't been selling, has it?

Huh.

But say you changed
the formula, just a little.

Use a little of my
stuff for a base.

Use a little more brandy,
you make a little less profit,

but you make it all back
on volume... in spades.

Brandy drinkers
are special, Nate.

They ask for De Bouverais,

they want it to taste
like De Bouverais.

You could be in
business for 20 years.

Baby, you should have
talked like this five years ago.

I guarantee you and I
would have done business.

Even if you were Larry's gal.

I'm not Larry's gal now.

No taste, no pride,
no conscience.

Dancing on her husband's coffin.

Every night, every
hot spot in town.

He's billboarding.

Her name's De Bouverais.

That's pretty
happy for business.

It's not too bad for him either.

Kestor had never had it so good,

business and pleasure
both reaching new highs.

Living in a perfumed cloud,

he was much too happy
to pay proper attention

to a series of costly accidents.

Net loss to Kestor for truck
and contents... almost $80,000.

Two weeks later, in the morning,

a fire at the theater.

Loss... above
insurance, $22,000.

And shortly after,
an even greater loss.

Two Kansas City officers

showing suddenly
and taking Alex Brosak,

alias half a dozen
dozen other names,

on a seven-year-old
charge of murder.

Ah, Mr. Big.

You're just gonna
stand there, huh?

Uh... They've got a warrant,
and extradition papers.

What can I do?

Nothing. Nothing.

Just go back to your dame.

Shut up.

You think things
like this just happen?

The truck, the fire?

Why don't you wise up?

She's slicing you down
one pound at a time.

Shut up.

Nobody plays you
for a sucker, huh?

Ha! They won't have
to stick me in the chair.

I'm gonna kill myself
laughing. Let's go.

Funny how he always barges in

just when you
want a cup of coffee.

I got your call.

I wasn't sure you'd come.

Line of duty.

Well, it's no ball
for me either.

Look, there's a place
out on the Mayberry Road,

About ten miles.

You turn left at
Carlin's filling station.

You go about half a mile.

There's a place on
the right. It's Kestor's.

It's a barn, but any hay
he's making is strictly wet.

I can give you Kestor, too.

How?

There's a shipment coming
in from Canada tonight,

a truckload of De Bouverais.

He's using the stuff for a base.

About 11:00 by the North Road.

He's meeting them at the barn

with his top boys.

You can take the
whole lot of them.

Thanks a lot.

You don't trust me, do you?

I'm not your husband.

Irma's.

Nate. Any luck?

Did you get her to
tell you anything?

Come on, you want
the C note. Did she talk?

Not to me.

To who?

Ness.

But Eliot, suppose
she's leveling?

She hasn't leveled with anybody

since she was 14.

Kansas City say they'd
get back to us today?

They promised they would.

She's been playing
patty cake with Kestor.

Why would she turn
around and hand him to us?

Well, it's hard to tell
about a woman, Eliot.

We could be wrong.

Not that wrong.

That could be Kansas City.

Hello.

That's right.

Go ahead.

It's Kansas City.

Yeah?

Yeah...

I see.

Well, yeah, it sure does.

Thanks a lot.

They were tipped to Alex Brosak

by an anonymous letter.

Their expert says it
was written by a woman.

So?

On plain white paper
with a French watermark.

I guess maybe we
could be that wrong.

They'll be hitting that
barn around 11:00.

We got two hours.

How much further is it?

Well, you certainly don't
have very much to say.

Maybe I... maybe I don't
want it to get back to Ness.

Oh, now look, Nate,

I'm not gonna sit here... Oh!

When I get through with you,
you won't need a beauty shop.

Irma.

She told you about Ness.

Thought you had
me set up real good.

Couldn't wait to get
me out to that barn.

Okay. Just let him be there.

He won't be, Nate.

Don't count on it.

There's the gate.

Douse your lights.

Ness?!

You're in there, Ness.

I know you are.

Ness!

Come out and meet
a friend of yours.

She's scared.

You gotta be in there.

You don't come out, she's dead!

Nobody in here.

Kill the lights.

Somebody's playing
you for a sucker.

The truck.

Scooter?!

Take it around back and unload.

Close the door.

Ram it!

You okay? Yeah.

Yeah...

No.

Take it easy, Rico.

You're all right.

That was a shotgun, Lee.

Be careful.

You're a dead man, Kestor.

Give yourself up.

Run for it.

No, Nate, No.

Ness!

I was wrong.

I'm sorry.

I guess I should have
told you what I was doing.

My husband was very good to me,

and I loved him very much.

We'll drive you back.

Can't let a... lady drive
back to town alone.

Two days later,

the Marquise de
Bouverais left for France.

Eliot Ness had no
further word from her,

but one month after repeal,

he received a case
of imported brandy.

It had no card, but
Ness didn't need any.

It was de Bouverais,
and it was 90 proof.