All language subtitles for The Untouchables - S04E27 (The Jazz Man)_000

(theme music plays)

WALTER WINCHELL: During the
blistering summer of 1931,

the work of Eliot Ness and
his Untouchables was divided

into seemingly
never-ending days

spent on the unbearably
hot pavements of Chicago

tracking down illicit whiskey,

and seemingly
never-ending nights

immersed in the paperwork
connected with their activity.

(knock at door)

Hello, Jim.

Morning, Lee, Eliot.

Well, Captain Johnson.

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

working around the clock.

Well, I'm not exactly working.

What's wrong?

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

We put them into a sifter

and sent the really sick ones
to a hospital.

We're holding the rest
for questioning.

And?

One of the healthy ones
is my son.

Buz?

What do you want me to do, Jim?

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

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

I... thought maybe you...

Of course, I will.

Where is he?

73rd District.

Let's go.

It's funny how you can
grow old

just like that.

ANNOUNCER:

"The Jazz Man."

Starring Robert Stack
as Eliot Ness.

Co-starring Simon Oakland,

Robert Emhardt,

and Jacqueline Scott.

Narrated by Walter Winchell.

Hello, Buz.

Hello, Mr. Ness.

Does my father know?

What do you think?

(gasping)

I'm gonna stop.

Honest.

I believe you, Buz.

I believe all the vows
made behind prison bars.

I made such a mess.

How long are they gonna
keep me in here?

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

Where'd you get the narcotics?

From a guy named Peepers.

How'd you get it?

Cigarette form, powder form?

Powder.

How much did it cost?

Ten dollars a pack.

How much powder in the packet?

Enough for four or five fixes.

That's all, Buz.

Guard.

You'll be released
in a few minutes.

Mr. Ness?

I promise I'm going to kick it.

I promise.

Sure you will.

(door clanging open)

How is he?

He's upset. He needs you, Jim.

Yeah.

He evidently needed me
long before this, too,

but I've been too busy
enforcing the law.

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

Nobody promised any of us
a bed of roses

when we raised our right hands.

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

Thanks, Eliot.

Good night, Jim.

What did the boy have to say?

Plenty. Peepers is
back in action.

"Peepers"?

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

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

and for five pops
at $10 a packet.

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

(Peepers chuckles)

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

Well, you better get choosey.

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

There's no such thing
as getting them madder.

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

And every once in awhile,
you hear about a cop

who makes a deal
with a bootlegger or a house.

Never with junkies.

No, we sell garbage, Sal,

and that's the way
we're treated.

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

Now, look,

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

You're not the only pusher
in this city.

(chuckles)

I know, but I'm the only one

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

That's why you came to me.

You watch your step, Peepers.

I'd rather take my chances
on being caught

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

Understand?

You're talking English,
aren't you?

Next, I'm raising the price.

Uh, now, uh...

don't get too greedy too quick.

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

really craving it,

then we'll squeeze them.

When will that be?

Eh, another couple of weeks
at bargain prices,

then we'll call off the sale.

All right.

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

It's coming to the Viking Hotel
on Friday.

Anything else?

No.

Let's go.

WINCHELL:
Four nights later,

Lee Hobson traced Peepers
to the Viking Hotel

on the South Side of Chicago.

Where is he?

He's on the second floor.

What room?

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

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

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

We'll soon know.

(door opening)

Peepers, hold it!

You may have gotten me
this time, Ness,

but you're still not
gonna lock me up.

Lee, call the morgue.

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

Anything?

Peepers didn't live here.

Artie Tresh.

Club 88.

A jazz joint over on Randall.

Let's go.

(knock at door)

We're closed.

NESS:
Open it up.

I said we're closed!

Hey, wait...

Federal officers.

Well, that badge
don't mean nothing.

You need a warrant
to come busting in here.

You got a warrant?

Every crumb knows
about a warrant.

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

I can read and write.

Where's the owner of this place?

I don't know.

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

I said I don't know!

(door opening)

What's all the noise about,
Wally?

Feds! With a warrant.

Well, what's on your mind,
mister?

You own this place?

Yes. Sal Rudin is my name.

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

Well?

You know a bass violin player
named Artie Tresh?

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

That's right.

I want to apologize for my boys.

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

Now, I've told you before...

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

What do you mean, "act"?

I-I got nothing to hide.

What do you sell here,
buttermilk?

What do you want to know
about Artie?

Does he work for you?

Yes, he did up to yesterday.

What happened yesterday?

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

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

Hey, you better hurry up
and find him

if you want to talk to him.

He's leaving for New Orleans
tomorrow night.

How do you know?

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

It starts Friday week.

You've done a lot for a man

who's playing around
with your wife.

You bet I did.

I not only got him the booking,

but I got him
his train ticket, too.

Cheap at half the price

to get all that mileage
between him and Eleanor.

Yeah.

If you like great jazz,
drop in some time.

We've got a terrific
organization.

Only next time,
use the front door.

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

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

Why not?

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

He picked up
the narcotics there.

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

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

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

When he leaves town
tomorrow night,

he'll be out of our hands.

No, he won't.

(steam whistle blowing)

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

Artie Tresh boarded
the Magnolia Special

bound for New Orleans.

At 9:25, Tresh finished
his dinner

and returned
to his compartment.

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

roared through a small town
in southeastern Illinois,

it suddenly screeched
to an abrupt halt.

(engine hissing,
machinery clanging)

What happened?

Somebody in this car
pulled the emergency cord.

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

Did you pull the emergency?

Open this up, will you?

Sure.

Is he...?

He killed him and used
his pillow as a silencer.

Pulled the emergency cord
and got off the train.

Where are we how?

Hayesville.

When's the next train
to Chicago?

Well, there's a milk train
pulls into Hayesville

at 3:30 in the morning.

Gets into Chicago about 9:00.

I'll need some help.

We're getting off here.

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

Ness arrived
at the Chicago City Morgue

with the body of Artie Tresh.

Hello, Jim.

I heard you were here.
Who have you got?

Musician named Tresh.

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

How's Buz?

Um, not so good.

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

The government's going to open
a hospital for addicts

in Lexington, Kentucky.

I'm trying to get Buz
committed there.

Fine.

An addict?

Well, I'll see you later.

Give my best
to the boy, will you?

Yeah, I sure will.

Hello, Jim.

Hello, Lee.

Eliot, this is Mr. Temple.

He played trumpet with Tresh
in Baltimore.

Mr. Temple.

That Artie?

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

That's Artie, all right.

I don't know
if you got any idea

what's stretched out
under that sheet.

Just the greatest, that's all.

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

Maybe never.

Aw, man, we lost somebody.

We got a gap in the strings
five miles wide.

How well did you know him?

As good as anybody, I suppose.

Artie was a loner.

He only talked real close
to his bass.

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

Tresh was on his way
to New Orleans.

Did he go there often?

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

It's about a year and a half.

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

Booked solid.

You see, Artie was down
on that Dixieland jive.

Way down.

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

was to make cotton
so you could stuff your ears

and not have to hear
that Dixieland jive.

Artie played
a different kind of jazz.

Further out.

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

Well, everybody is playing more
or less Montauk Point jazz

and Artie was playing
way out in the Atlantic Ocean.

You know what I mean?

I think so.

Know where he got
his narcotics?

No, sir.

He was a loner on that, too.

You'd never catch Artie
at any pot party.

Well, one more thing.

We'd appreciate it if you'd keep

this whole thing
quiet for a while, hmm?

You bet.

Consider my horn shut down.

Thanks, Mr. Temple.

You've been a big help.

Would you mind
if I played something?

Don't seem hardly right
to ship Artie off

without some music.

Go ahead.

Well, what now?

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

(wailing jazz trumpet)

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

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

That's right.

Where do you suppose he got it?
East Coast?

Could be.

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

to figure a foolproof
method of delivery.

Could have been done in stages.

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

Take his place?

You heard Temple.

Tresh was a very special kind
of musician

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

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

Well, somebody knew him,
but good.

That somebody could be
in New Orleans.

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

I don't like it.

What else have we got?

Tresh was our only lead.
He still is.

Look, Tresh is supposed to start
his engagement Friday.

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

but you couldn't fool
the narcotics operators.

They know Tresh is dead.

Yeah, that's true.

It should start something.

(wailing trumpet continues)

This fellow, Tresh,

he must have been quite a guy.

Where'd you get those?

In his wallet.

Any help?

I don't know.
They may mean something.

One's a violin maker.
and the other,

a New Orleans booking agent.

Hi, honey.
What can I do for you?

The name's Artie Tresh.
I play bass.

Is Mr. Bogan in?

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

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

I'd just like to see Mr. Bogan.

Tell him Artie Tresh is here,
will you?

Mr. Bogan?

Yeah.

I got a bass player here.

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

What's his name?

Artie Tresh.

Send him in.

Gotcha.

Right through there, Mr. Tresh.

Artie Tresh!

(laughing)

I got a bass out here, she says.

That's the trouble
when you hire a secretary

don't know nothing about music.

She goes for crooners.

(laughing):
Artie Tresh!

Come on in, sit down.

(groaning about secretary)

Sit down, Artie. Sit down.

Artie Tresh.

You know, I was
expecting you yesterday.

Had to stop off in Memphis.

What for?

Southern fried chicken.

(big laugh)

What's the setup down here,
Bogie?

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

You were booked out of Chicago,

so I won't be taking
a percentage.

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

Well, I'll be booking you out

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

Fair enough?

Okay.

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

I've only heard you on wax,

but even coming out
of a machine,

you make those strings
sound like

nothing I've ever heard before.

Oh, boy. You need an advance?

Always.

(chuckling)

All right.

What do you musicians
do with your money?

That's my business.

Thanks.

Uh, hey, uh,

you know many people in town?

No.

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

and we'll go out to dinner.

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

Well, suit yourself.

WINCHELL:
Later that evening,

after Ness had checked into
a French Quarter hotel

frequented by jazz musicians,

he went directly
to Bourbon Street

to the Purple Elephant,
the Dixieland jazz club

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

(woman crooning
to smooth Dixieland jazz)

d That's what I mean d

d Creole babies
with flashing eyes d

d Softly whisper
with their tender sighs d

d Stop d

d Oh, won't you give
your lady fair d

d A little smile d

d Stop d

d You bet your life
you'll linger there d

d A little while d

d There is heaven
right here on earth d

d With those beautiful queens d

d Way down yonder d

d In New Orleans. d

(cheers, whistles)

I want to talk to the owner.

Hello. I'm Artie Tresh.

Artie Tresh?

How are you? Good to see you!

Hey, Hal!

Hal, this is Artie Tresh.

Hal leads the combo.

Hello.

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

I thought I'd get acquainted.
You mind?

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

this band plays what I say.

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

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

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

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

You're the boss.

And you better not forget it.

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

Yeah, and, uh, listen good,

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

You better stop talking.

You're going to
wear your finger out.

So you're Artie Tresh.

That's right.

I'm Mona Shaw.

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

Thank you.

I enjoyed your number.

I didn't.

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

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

a long time ago.

I don't suppose you remember.

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

Uh, afraid not, no.

She still remembers you.

Is, uh, she in town now?

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

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

He doesn't begin working
until Friday.

Don't pay any attention
to him, Artie.

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

Look, when he begins works,

and when he becomes an official
member of the family,

this is different,
but like this?

It's like picking up something
from the street.

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

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

Take it easy.

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

A fiddle player
has to protect his hands.

His hot little hands.

Let's cool them off.
(laughs loudly)

(screaming)

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

Take it easy, Hal.

You've been looking
for it all night.

-Come on.
-Looking for trouble.

I'm, um...

I'm not used
to being treated so nice.

Feels good, feels real good.

Sort of knocks
a couple of years,

you know what I mean?

Now, I should,
um, return the favor

and do something nice for you.

What'll it be?

Some junk.

Wait a minute.

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

Just answered your own question.

Your hands.

Takes one to catch one, huh?

Can you manage?

(applause)

Do you have a pencil?

This is my address.

Meet me there in an hour.

Thanks.

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

You want to sit in?

Sorry, I only play nowadays
when I get paid.

ANNOUNCER: And now,
back to The Untouchables.

(doorbell buzzes)

(buzzing continues)

Right on time.

Um, I couldn't get anything.

Is anything wrong?

(chuckling)
No.

Nothing's wrong.

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

Good night.

Look, um,

I don't feel like wrestling.

Neither do I.

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

What do you care?

That's my business.

If you don't want me to care,

that's your business.

Hey, you.

What do you want to play
in this town for?

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

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

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

I mean it.

Lorna...

And stay away from me.

dd

(grunts)

(panting)

OPERATOR:
Long distance.

Collect long distance,
please, Chicago.

Yes, please.

Devon 4655.

(phone rings)

Hello?

I have a collect call

from Mr. Eliot Ness
in New Orleans.

Will you accept the charges?

It's Eliot.

Yes. Eliot?

Friend of ours from the Club 88

tried to but my visit short.

One that knows
all about warrants.

I want you to keep
an eye on Rudin.

Watch him close, huh?

Are you all right?

(sighs)
By the skin of my neck.

Where do you stand?

Played my first card today.

A booking agent.

I'll play my last card tomorrow.

Violin maker?

Yeah, the violin maker.

Take care of yourself.

Yeah.

(bell jingles)

Can I help you?

Mr. Reising?

Yeah.

I'm Artie Tresh.

So?

Artie Tresh.

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

I thought a friend of mine

might have told you
I was coming down here.

What friend?

Oh, just a friend.

I'm a busy man, Mr. Tresh.

Did you wish something from me?

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

You want me to make you
an instrument?

Maybe.

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

If you say no, I will not.

What do I do with a maybe?

I heard you were good.

How good are you?

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

that my violins
are so perfectly balanced

that they hang up in midair
by themselves.

Feel this.

Well?

Very nice.

How about a bass?

Mr. Tresh,

look at these.

Gagliano, 1762.

Camilli, 1740.

Obichi, 1680.

Alberti, 1751.

They were all masters,
Mr. Tresh.

A master string instrument maker

is a master
of any string instrument.

Didn't mean to insult you.

One insults oneself
so frequently

that one can permit
an occasional stranger

to join in the fun.

This collection must have cost
you a pretty penny.

The collection is pretty.

The pennies that bought them,
not always so.

Would you like to have
a bass made by Reising?

I'll let you know, Mr. Reising.

Most probably you'll never call.

Machine-made atrocities seem
to be good enough

for most of the musicians today.

Very fitting marriage.

Machine-made music,
machine-made instrument.

(sawing noise)

Thank you, Mr. Reising.

Good day, Mr. Tresh.

(bell jingles)

I used to get
a much bigger thank you

when I brought
your supply, Lorna.

I'm late for work, Russ.

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

to be real appreciative because,
you see,

tonight I want you to do me
a little favor.

Can't we talk about it later?

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

What is it?

You know, last night,

I asked you to tell
that bass fiddle player

that you couldn't get him
any stuff?

I told him.

Just like you said.

Yeah, I know.

But tonight,

I'd like to give it to him.

All right, I'll give it to him.

No, you didn't hear me too good.

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

Well, what do you want me for?

I'll tell you.

I want you to call him
on the telephone,

and tell him to meet you here.

And then you'll give it to him.

With what? A .45?

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

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

(chuckles)

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

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

Thanks a lot.

What do you got against him?

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

It's spreading,

and I'm gonna put it out.

Well, I'm not gonna pull
the alarm.

I won't!

(sighs)

Call him.

You make up your mind.

You call him
before you get hurt or after.

It's up to you.

(phone rings)

Hello?

This-this is Lorna Shaw, Artie.

I've got some stuff for you.

Meet me at my place at 9:30.

Lorna?

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

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

I'll tell you that.

I've got to get to the club.

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

You better stay here.

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

you might want to do it again.

(knocking on door)

Come in.

Eliot?

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

We followed him down here.

Rico's watching him now.

How's it been going with you?

Things are warming up.

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

Action? What do you call
last night?

That was a starter.

You think Rudin's down here
to spank his boy

for letting you get away?

Let's find out.

Where are we going?

Got invited to a special meeting
in 20 minutes.

You can cover me.

dd

There he is.

You got him?

Yeah.

Go.

-(gunshots)
-Artie, watch out!

What do you think you're doing?

Let me go, let me go.

Lorna.

Did you get him?

How could I with that dame?

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

She has a fractured skull,
a pretty bad one,

but I think she'll pull through.

As far as questioning her
is concerned,

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

That's if things go all right.

Please do everything you can
to make sure

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

-Of course.
-Thanks.

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

Why'd they open up?

Maybe you were coming too close
for comfort.

Close to what?

The Purple Elephant,
there's nothing there.

I'm sure of that.

What about this girl?

Yeah, that may be it.

She's mixed up
with the mobsters somewhere.

Let's get back to Tresh
for a minute.

Tresh?

Yeah, he's a hophead.

They don't usually trust
hopheads with deliveries.

Maybe Tresh didn't deliver
the narcotics.

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

We saw Peepers;
we didn't see Tresh.

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

He must have known about it.

Why else would they kill him?

To keep me from going
to New Orleans.

To make it appear
as if Tresh was important.

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

Let's go back to the hotel, Lee.

(jazz plays)

Thank you.

Is the girl dead?

She's no problem, dead or alive.

No problem?

She's a junkie.

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

Give me another one.

Where does that leave us, Russ?

Don't look now,

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

(applause)

You sure?

Yeah.

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

looking for booze.

We were playing poker
in the back.

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

I never did get
to play that hand.

I'll never forget his face.

That Ness is breathing
right down our throats.

There's only one person
that could have told Ness

how we ship the stuff.

The fiddle maker?

Yeah.

Don't we need him anymore?

No, we'll shut him up.

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

We'll do it ourselves.

Right now.

What about the Fed?

Yeah.

Good night, folks.

Thank you very much.

George.

Come here.

There's a Fed over there.

We'd like to lose him.

Well, go through my office,
out the back.

Uh, right this way, gentlemen,
but please,

no long distance calls
on my phone.

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

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

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

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

wouldn't you say, Lee?

There's nobody in there.

He lives in the cellar.

This is Tuesday.

He goes to a concert
every Tuesday.

I hope he enjoys it.

Next concert he hears

will be the angels playing
their harps.

(chuckles, bell jingles)

We'll wait in the cellar.

It's quieter there.

It's about time
we had an easy hit.

They're never easy
until they're over.

Oh, yeah?

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

Quiet.

I think I hear something.

(door rattles)

Somebody's trying to get
in the door.

Maybe it's Reising.

Take a look.

It's Ness.

Don't move.

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

"Violins, 1928. Violins, 1930."

Wait a minute.

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

Eight names.

Tresh is one of them.

Tresh must have come
to New Orleans earlier this year

just to have Reising
make him a bass.

Reising made one for him,
all right.

There are seven other
unsuspecting bass-violin players

carrying the narcotics
all over the country.

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

That's easy, Lee.

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

load the basses with narcotics,

book them out to any city
in the country.

Whenever they want
another shipment made,

they just book them back
to New Orleans.

Yeah, that's the rest
of the gang.

Russ Bogan, the booking agent.

Bogan, Rudin,
and the violin maker.

Get them.

(gunshots)

Don't shoot, Ness.
I give up.

I give up.

Come on up, Bogan.

You're all through.

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

That's all right with me.

(gunshots)

That's all, Bogan.

Drop it.

Come on, junk peddler.

(thud)

Come on.

WINCHELL: Karl Reising
was arrested one hour later.

He was sentenced
to five to ten years

in the federal penitentiary.

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

of Artie Tresh
and found guilty.

On the night
of January 8, 1934,

he took his final steps
toward his very last booking,

the electric chair
in the death house at Joliet.

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