All language subtitles for The Untouchables - S04E09 (Come and Kill Me)_000

(theme music plays)

(playing "Call to the Post")

WALTER WINCHELL:
July 4, 1930.

Independence Day.

40,000 patriots jammed
Chicago's Arlington Park

for the Stars
and Stripes Handicap.

Arnold "Spats" Vincent
was among those 40,000.

So were Eliot Ness
and his Untouchables.

They were there
to take Spats Vincent.

They waited only for the
delivery of a piece of paper--

a list of the names
of officials in high places

who were ready to do business
with the crime cartel.

It gave the Untouchables
their first real crack

at the immaculate
Spats Vincent,

who, for years,
had kept himself

neatly beyond the reach
of Ness and his men.

(bell ringing)

ANNOUNCER:
And they're off and running.

It's Sun Beau and Golden Prince
going to the front.

Jockey is third ahead
and Pigeonhole for the length.

Then comes Silverdale,
Blue Larkspur, Caruso.

Hot Toddy trails.

Now it's Pigeonhole
taking command,

drawing out a length and a half.

Around the turn,
it's Blue Larkspur,

Sun Beau and Misstep
head to head.

Into the stretch, it's
Blue Larkspur taking command,

with Misstep and Sun Beau.

It's Blue Larkspur,
Misstep and Sun Beau

right behind them into the turn.

But it's Blue Larkspur
holding it, winning by a...

WINCHELL:
Spats Vincent was holding

$30,000 in winning tickets, but
he was never going to collect.

♪♪

Hold or I shoot!

(two gunshots)

(grunts)

I failed.

ANNOUNCER:

"Come and Kill Me."

Starring Robert Stack
as Eliot Ness.

With special guest star
Dan Dailey.

And narrated
by Walter Winchell.

(grunting)

WINCHELL: Arnold "Spats" Vincent
was dead,

murdered by a steel needle

expertly thrust
through the heart.

There was only one man
powerful enough

to put out a contract
on Vincent.

A man named Stryker.

Ness had the scream out
for Stryker.

Ness's only chance for nailing
Mr. Big depended on a young man

with the fighting skill
of a murderer.

You've got calluses
on the side of your hand

the same as your friend.

Where did you get
your karate training?

Look, we've got
all the time in the world.

Now, let's start from the top.

What's your name?

Where do you live?

All right, you won't
tell us anything,

suppose we tell you
a few things.

We don't need your name
to send you up for life.

You took Spats Vincent from us.

You're gonna give us the man
who pulled the trigger on Spats.

Give him the phone.

Make your call.

Go on, you're entitled to it.

No, thank you, Mr. Ness.

Lab just called.

Every stitch of the handmade
clothing those boys wore

came from identical sources.

Suits, ties, shoes, everything.

Yeah?

That's it.

There wasn't a laundry mark,
a label, nothing.

Figures.

No wallet, no identification
cards, nothing.

Nothing in fingerprint,
nothing in R&L.

Eliot, you boys are too polite.

Let me at him.

Be a waste of energy, Jim.

Picked him up, Captain Johnson.

He's in number four.

Want to bring him out for us?

Right.

Hello, Mr. Stryker.

I got your invitation, Ness.

What do you want?

Come in.

Is this the man that gave you
the contract on Spats Vincent?

Look at him!

This the man who paid you
to kill Spats Vincent?

Lock him up.

Come on.

He changes his mind, Stryker,
I'll invite you again.

You seemed somewhat agitated
on the telephone, Mr. Stryker.

Why wouldn't I be?

Ness has him.

So what?

(pigeon cooing)

How can you be so sure?

He's well-schooled.

Al right.

But we play it safe.

We take care of this one.

We take care of him now.

We do nothing now, Mr. Stryker.

Absolutely nothing.

He's a robot.

Paper?

Yes, one, please.

Thank you.

Did you read about
Will Rogers today?

No. Oh, but I will.

Yeah.

WINCHELL: Throughout the days
and nights of interrogation,

the dead man's picture
commanded a box on page one

of every leading newspaper
in Chicago.

Nobody came forward.

On July 12, at 2:20 p.m.,
John Doe was buried

in a pauper's grave
in Potter's Field.

You know how Potter's Field
got its name?

No.

That's what Judas's
30 pieces of silver bought.

After his death, they-they used
the field to bury strangers.

Remember that
from Sunday School?

Know why a boy's last words
would be,

"I have failed"?

♪♪

♪♪

NESS: 11 days
and around-the-clock watch

and what do we end up with?
A lily.

According to the lab,
that's not just any lily.

That's an anthurium lily
shipped in from Hawaii.

Here's the Agriculture
Department's list of

every florist in Chicago who
handles that particular flower.

-How many?
-294.

All right, let's go.

WINCHELL: It was on the third
day, and on the North Shore,

that the Untouchables
found their man.

Oh, it was late Wednesday.

No, it was, uh, last, uh,
last Tuesday that she came in.

I-I remember how she wanted my
guarantee that I was selling her

the best anthurium lily
in the shop.

Did you get her name or address?

Oh, no, no, this was strictly
a cash transaction.

How she counted out that cash--
pennies, nickels and dimes--

I hated to take her money.

Can you remember
anything about her?

What'd she look like?

Oh, she was
a pretty little thing.

Yeah, she was about,
uh, about five-three

and, uh, much too skinny.

Remember anything else,
Mr. Foster?

Anything at all?

Yeah, yeah.

She was about, uh,
oh, I'd say about 17.

And, uh, she had this,
uh, long, auburn hair.

And these, these large,
gray eyes.

Yeah. I remember.

Large, frightened, gray eyes.

Thank you.

WINCHELL: Within 24 hours,
the Untouchables

summoned Mr. Foster
to the Chicago morgue.

NESS: I'm afraid we weren't
the only ones

who staked out that grave,
Mr. Foster.

Won't you look at her,
Mr. Foster?

What can I tell you?

Butchers.

Would you look at her hair,
Mr. Foster?

See if you recognize that.

Same color.

Same length.

My daughter has hair like that.

Close it.

WINCHELL: A young girl had been
brutally murdered

because she left a flower
on an unmarked grave.

(phone rings)

The picture brought
an anonymous call.

The girl in the sketch
was Linda Parish.

She lived alone,
parentless, friendless,

except for a sometime-
boyfriend, Jimmy Chavis.

Mr. Chavis, federal officers.

Yes, but there must be
a mistake.

There's no mistake, Mr. Chavis.

We have a search warrant.

Where's your wife, Mr. Chavis?

Oh, my wife don't feel so good.

She's lying down.

MRS. CHAVIS:
What is it, Julius?

My name's Ness, Mrs. Chavis.

We're here to ask
about your son.

Son?

No.

I have no son.

Son named James Edward Chavis

was born to a Julius
and Catherine Chavis,

April 14, 1910,

1139 West Cicero Avenue.

There's a birth certificate,
in case you've forgotten.

Jimmy is away.

He's away for a long time.

I told you my wife is sick!

You have questions, you ask me.

I have a lot of questions
to ask you, Mr. Chavis.

Where do you work, Mr. Chavis?

I am too old to work.

What do you do for a living?

I do odd jobs, around.

Must be very odd
to afford this house.

I take in sewing.

No, Catherine.

You don't talk.

All right, let's save
a little time.

Chavis, your name used
to come up regularly

in racket investigations.

A runner for the organization,
took any job they gave you.

Six years ago,
you moved here to Maywood.

Since then, you've been clean.
Too clean.

Three years ago,

both the first and second
mortgages on this house

were paid in full
on a single payment.

How, Mr. Chavis,

or did you make your score
three years ago?

Is that when your son
turned assassin?

Is that when he committed
his first murder?

There's nothing, Eliot.

Not a shirt, book,
photograph, nothing.

They sure did a good job
of clearing him out.

Maybe.

Tell me, Mrs. Chavis, how would
you like to see your son?

There he is.

Aren't you gonna look at him,
Mrs. Chavis?

(inhales)

(sobbing)

No, Catherine,
he is not our son.

No!

(sobbing loudly)

If he's not your son,
Mr. Chavis,

why is your wife crying?

There is a dead boy lying there.

What do you expect her to do?

Laugh?

WINCHELL:
The gamble that a mother's love

would prove stronger than fear
had failed.

The body of Jimmy Chavis would
be returned to its grave.

Ness knew he would have to find
his answers,

if any were to be found,
elsewhere.

A run-through of the employment
offices in the Chicago area

led Ness and his men to the
Lake Michigan waterfront,

but none of the dockhands
knew Jimmy Chavis.

One of the dock bosses,
however,

responded to a description.

All by hisself, all the time,
you know?

Never sneaked off
for a smoke with the other guys,

just worked.

Well, that's fine with me,

but you always wonder a little
about a guy like that, you know?

He good at his job?

Yeah, big, strong,
knew how to lift.

You know, with the legs.

Never got tired.

What about lunch break?
He must have talked to somebody.

Nah, just wolfed it down

then walked around the ships
all by hisself

until it was time for me to blow
the whistle to go back to work.

Go home at the end
of the shift, huh?

At the end of his shift.

He had a special deal here,
he and another guy.

Used to work six-hour shifts,
instead of eight.

Knocked off work at 2:00.

Why? Who set it up?

One day, I get a chance call.

Put these guys on the payroll.

So who asked questions?
I put them on.

But I did ask the kid
about the short shift.

You know what he told me?

He said he was going to school.
Yeah, school.

-What school?
-I don't know.

But, every day after work,
he used to wash up real good,

clean his nails, put on a suit,
and off he'd go like a bird.

What do you mean,
'off he'd go like a bird?"

Did he drive?
Somebody pick him up? What?

Nah, took the regular city bus
like the rest of us do.

Where's the closest pick-up?

Two blocks down, on Washington.

Thanks.

Hey, listen!

I could use a dozen like him.

Worked his head off.

I had a regular run on 33.

Been retired more than
a year now, though.

The bus company told us that,
Mr. Bennett.

Still, I thought you might
remember him.

The waterfront, Washington
Street, a 2:00 pick-up.

2:00 pick-up?

Was always well-dressed, got off
shift early, neatly scrubbed.

Oh, sure. I remember that one.

Stuck out like a rose
in a weed patch

around all the rest
of them there dock workers.

Nice young fellow, though.

Quiet, never missed a trip.

Six days a week.

For a whole solid year,
never missed a trip.

Tell me his stop,
where he got off?

He didn't.

He rode clear to the end
of the line.

Thanks, Mr. Bennett.

DRIVER:
End of the line. Everybody out.

All right, let's start walking.

Walk where?

Every mile of Evanston.

(Mrs. Chavis sobbing)

When are you going
to leave us alone?

Look what you've done
to her already.

Look.

We didn't do that, Mr. Chavis.

Come along, please.

We'd like another look
at the attic,

and we'll need the both of you.

Must we?

Yes, you must.

Must we?

Catherine, we go.

Look, Rico, it's exactly
like that picture.

Could be a coincidence.

Hello, Louis, Rick.

Hello, Mr. Bayless.

There's nothing coincidental
about that.

WINCHELL: The man
at 71 Drury Lane was identified

as Dexter Lloyd Bayless,

a respected member
of the community

who lived
in the Evanston house alone.

The Untouchables
could find nothing

to link Bayless
to the organization,

to Arnold "Spats" Vincent,
or to the man called Stryker.

The two young men
were identified

as Louis Mallet and Rick Tarro,

factory employees
of South Chicago.

Mr. Bayless was about
to acquire new neighbors.

The house opposite
the Bayless mansion

was acquired
as a stakeout headquarters.

At the request of the United
States Attorney's Office,

Agent Rossi's sister
and her family agreed

to move in as protective cover
for the Untouchables.

Kind of nice to have
such a suburban-looking sister

with a readymade family.

What about a tail?

That man is too smart,
this town is too small.

Eliot.

Oh, this should be
an interesting stakeout.

WINCHELL:
The stakeout revealed

that the Bayless household
operated with the regularity

of a crack regiment.

Bayless lived alone.

Bayless himself left the house
at 10:00,

three mornings a week,

invariably returning
between 2:00 and 2:30.

After one solid week
of surveillance,

at 10:10 in the morning,
Ness made his move.

Rossi and Hobson stood guard,
in the event

that Mr. Bayless would make
an unexpected return.

With Ness were Youngfellow,
the Untouchable's ace bug man,

and Rossman,
who could open everything

but the pearly gates.

It's like the lock
on a bank vault.

You can figure it out
while we check the outside?

Figure out the U.S. Mint
by then.

WINCHELL: Everything within view
revealed a tidy, gentle man

with an appreciation
for beauty.

A man with a love
of cultivated flowers.

Among them,
a rare type of lily.

At 10:33 a.m.,

Ness, Youngfellow and Rossman
entered the Bayless home.

They had to work fast.

They had to work clean.

I can bug the base.

It's a dying Gaul.

So?

Go bug a doorknob.

WINCHELL: They didn't know
what they were looking for.

They didn't expect
what they found.

There was only one thing
they could be sure of.

Every arrow they had followed
since the murder

of Arnold "Spats" Vincent
pointed right here.

How's it coming, Bill?

We'll be able to hear his
heartbeat if he has a heart.

Let's try the basement.

ROSSMAN:
How does Spats Vincent

and Nate Stryker figure
into all this?

I don't know.

(Ness sighs)

I know we're gonna have
to open up more

than just that front door
upstairs.

(orchestra playing
classical music)

What's he have
against Paul Whiteman?

(rhythmic tapping of cane
on recording)

There goes that cane again.

Here they come.

(music stops)

(whirring of recording)

(cane taps and door opens
on recording)

BAYLESS: Well, should we go down
to the classroom, boys?

Down the classroom?

We checked every foot
of that basement.

You should have checked
the inches.

WINCHELL:
Friday, August 22, 3:42 p.m.

Class is about to begin, Eliot.

♪♪

I trust you boys
have done your homework.

WINCHELL: The school of death
had convened for the day.

A school designed

to make assassination
a polished performance.

A school whose every graduate
earned the degree

Assassin, PhD.

♪♪

Come and kill me.

Remember, you must know every
muscle in the body for karate.

You must know every muscle
in the heart to kill.

WINCHELL: The theory
of the kill was one thing.

The practice, another.

The master schooled his
students thoroughly in both.

(clank, thudding)

(panting)

(panting)

(panting)

BAYLESS:
Turn on the lights.

(panting)

(Louis laughs)

(Rick coughs, then laughs)

(men panting)

Well... well, did we kill you,
Mr. Bayless?

No, Rick, but I got both of you,
right through the heart.

(Rick laughs)

All right, boys, school's out.

(gun chamber cocks)

Eliot?

School's out.

NESS:
Here we go.

♪♪

Yes?

Mr. Lloyd Bayless,
you're under arrest.

Eliot Ness.

Has one of my neighbors reported
a still in this house?

Charge is murder.

(laughs)

Probably a hundred counts.

You only have to prove one.

Easy.

Spats Vincent.

I said you have to prove one.

We will.

All right, Officer.

I'll go quietly.

Not yet.

I have a search warrant.

You don't need that.

You're perfectly welcome;
come in.

Come in.

After you, Mr. Bayless.

You have a search warrant.

Help yourself.

I suggest that you start
in the music room.

I have a wonderful Renoir
in there.

The Lady with Chrysanthemums.

I've already admired it.

You're very neat.

Well, since you've taken
the grand tour on your own,

Mr. Ness, what can I do for you?

Show me your classroom.

My classroom?

Tuition's rather high,

judging from the $10,000
deposited to your account

at the Security Bank of Evanston
the first of every month.

You see that El Greco?

It's priceless.

But there are men who will pay
a price for such a prize.

I am one of them.

You should check my accounts
on the fifth of the month.

They're overdrawn.

I know, Mr. Bayless.

I know a lot about you.

I also know
about your two students.

The offspring
of small-time hoods

who moved to town four days

after the murder
of Arnold "Spats"” Vincent.

They're in custody now,
along with their families.

Louie and Rick haven't completed
your course yet, Mr. Bayless.

They can be made to talk.

Will you have a cup of tea?

No, thanks.

A cup of tea goes will
with some nice little cakes

this time in the afternoon,
Mr. Ness.

I didn't come here for tea,
little cakes,

or charming conversation.

Now, show me that classroom
or I'll bring my men in here

and put an ax through every wall
in this house.

We're not gonna stop to remove
your paintings, Mr. Bayless.

That won't be necessary.

One more stomp,
and he's on his own.

I wish we had bugged
that classroom.

What do you use for hot water?

Our working heater
is down below.

After you.

♪♪

♪♪

Diamond Joe Nova.

Diamond Joe Nova, age 46 years,

height five foot, six inches,
weighed 160 pounds,

carries a gun
in his left-hand coat pocket.

Talks with decided stammer,
Diamond Joe Nova.

School's over.

Who do you work for Bayless?

Take your pick.

Between 1916 and 1922,
who'd you work for?

Oh, guerilla fighter,

Irish Rebellion.

Ireland?

No record of a passport.

Mere formality, Mr. Ness.

Oh, what a wonderful group
those guerilla fighters were.

And what a darling war.

Darling war.

Shrapnel finished me for combat,

so I wandered
around Europe for a while,

and then I discovered art again.

And then in the south of France,
I discovered a direction.

Direction that brought you
to Chicago?

What do you do?

You have expensive tastes,
and the ability to kill

is your only negotiable talent.

You open a school of death.

Every society has had
its core of killers.

The last war,
the English had the Gurkha,

the Russians had the Cossacks,

the Germans had
the storm troopers.

The people I work for also have
need for a core of Killers.

What do you use for targets?

They're not shooting at people.

Permit me.

What about the young men
who do your killing for you?

The murderers you turn out.

Oh, I turn them out solely
as the need arises.

Replacements for the field.

(gunshot)

But one of your graduates
had learned his lesson well,

a Mr. John Doe.

You'd simplify our records
if you tell us his name.

In the seven years
I've been here,

I've graduated only 16 students.

I don't seem to recall
a John Doe.

Tell me, Mr. Bayless, is it
difficult to teach how to kill?

To kill on command, it is.

Without question,

without reason.

Like they killed Spats Vincent?

When you've played
the game long enough...

All right, let's go.

Over here, Mr. Ness.

Here I am.

Why don't you shoot, Mr. Ness?

Afraid to expose your position?

Come on, Mr. Ness.

Come and kill me.

I'm gonna take you alive,
Mr. Bayless.

You're breathing faster,
Mr. Ness.

I can hear you.

Oh, please, Mr. Ness,

not that schoolboy device,

throwing something
across the room.

You're quite right,
why hurry it?

It's something for a hunter
to have his prey within range.

And big game.

You're confusing hunter
with hunted.

(rustling)

There are a hundred ways
to kill you, Mr. Ness.

A hundred ways.

Bayless, listen to me.

16 graduates make you
a multiple accessory to murder.

You know
when your career's over.

Bayless,

give me the top man,
the man who pulls the trigger.

Might help you.

♪♪

♪♪

WINCHELL: The master of death
died August 22, 1930.

His school of death died
with him.

Eliot Ness and the Untouchables
had succeeded

in destroying the most vicious
tentacle of organized crime

in the city of Chicago.