All language subtitles for The.Untouchables.S01E08.The.Artichoke.King.480p.WEBRip.x264-MOBiUS

Hi, Frankie.

Hey, Felix.

Tonight's episode:

Starring Robert
Stack as Eliot Ness.

Co-starring Jack Weston.

With Al Ruscio.

And Robert Ellenstein.

Six a.m., Tuesday,
April 19th, 1931.

The place: The
Washington Produce Market

in New York City.

You're asleep, most likely,

grabbing that extra forty winks

before the alarm gets you up.

But things have been moving
along here in the market,

set up to feed the city

with the largest
appetite in the world.

Every 48 hours,

more than 25 million
pounds of fruit and vegetables

stream into the
city during the night.

A multi-million dollar business.

A prime target for the
vicious racketeers of the era.

There were also the decent
citizens, like the Cestaris.

Angelo, his wife, Sophia,
and his son, Antony.

They worked hard, enjoyed
the fruits of their labors.

Tried to be good citizens.

Hey, Tony.

I do this.

Go get some fruit.

Ha. I go with him.

Angelo!

Angelo!

Mom... Mama.

Angelo!

Within minutes, the news of

the brutal murder
of Angelo Cestari

was flashed to the Untouchables,

recently brought to New
York on special assignment

to investigate the
produce-market rackets.

Mrs. Cestari, Tony.

I'll only take a minute.

Now, try to remember.

Did either one of
you see anything?

Is there anything you
might know about this?

Ask him. He knows.

All I know is that
I've no more life.

Nothing.

I don't like to ask
questions now,

but there's no other way.

He was fighting those bums

who were trying to tell him

how to run his own business.

You should know about this.

You're the federal man.

Please, Mr. Ness, not now.

Can't you see what
you're doing to her?

We give them time to cover up,

it makes it that
much tougher for us.

I'm sorry, Tony, I...

know how both of you must feel.

You know how she feels?

How, Mr. Ness?

How does anyone know?

My father tries to keep
his business clean.

What does it get
him? A six-foot grave!

And you think you're sorry.

For whatever help it may be,

I promise you we'll get
the men who did this.

Do you want to help? All
right. Give me your gun.

Let me stick it in Terranova's
face and pull the trigger.

No! No, no.

He's the man
you're after, isn't he?

No.

The artichoke king, Terranova.

Papa should've gone
along with them...

like everyone else around here.

He'd still be alive.

If Terranova's men
come back here,

and they will come back...

you know how to get ahold of me.

Come on, Mama.

Shall I tell you?

Nobody saw anything,
nobody heard anything.

Same old story.

Pelham Manor, Westchester
County, state of New York.

The home of Ciro Terranova.

Ask Ciro what
he did for a living,

and he'd tell you that he was
a respectable businessman.

That he loved his $60,000
home, paid for in cash.

The fact that he drove
around in an armored car

might have had something
to do with his brother Nicholas

being exterminated by a
shotgun blast in the face,

and a second brother,
Vincenzo, stabbed to death.

His racket was simple.

He bought carloads of artichokes

from California
growers for $6 a crate.

Then resold them, at the point
of a gun, for twice the price.

He was the undisputed
artichoke king,

and on his
custom-tailored silk shirts,

he wore the family crest
of an artichoke and a crown.

He had everything except
the two things he wanted most:

the child his wife
could never give him

and the respect
of his neighbors.

Oh, Mr. Ness. Welcome. Come in.

Now.

You.

Glad you dropped in, Mr. Ness.

Some nice Italian
pastry. Have a cannoli.

The only thing you can feed
me, Terranova, is some answers.

Huh? All right.

Whatever you say, Mr. Ness.

What's the matter?

Somebody blame me
for something again?

You lost a prospective
customer, Angelo Cestari.

He was murdered.

Mm.

That dried-up wife of mine.

She's good for nothing,
except in the kitchen.

Huh.

Angelo Cestari, huh?

He's a real nice fellow.

Too bad.

Too bad he died or too bad
he wouldn't buy your stuff

at twice the price?

Mr. Ness.

I never stop anyone from
buying wherever they want.

I charge more because
I got a better product.

Terranova.

What were you
doing today? All day?

This.

This is what I was doing.

Huh?

Talking with some of my
friends about a banquet

they're holding in my honor
three weeks from today.

Wanna know some names?

Look. There.

Judge Humboldt. Hm?

Here. Mr. Cogan, president

of the Produce Association.

Them and a dozen others

will tell you I was
with them all day.

That's what you come for, no?

No.

But I got what I did come for.

About Cestari.

I feel for him... his
wife and his son.

I'll send them flowers.

You're stupid!

You got no head, no brains,

no sense. Nothing.

Stupido.

You.

Outside.

You hear me, punk?

Go on, Marlowe.

Do like the boss says.

Okay, boss. What's
eating you? Ulcers?

I'll tell you what's eating me.

I'll tell you plenty.

What kind of brains you
got to bump that guy?

Hm?

I ask you and I tell you.

You got none.

He makes trouble, Ciro.

What do you think you make?

I told you, a little muscle.

I told you don't kill the guy.

I got a job to do.

You pay me to make
a collection or else.

Okay. Or else.

I pay you to take
orders. Take them.

You know, paisan...

you are the stingiest
man in all New York.

I mean it.

You could squeeze
the buffalo off a nickel.

Hm-hm.

You got a candy box,
but there's no candy.

Carry a pocketbook
but it's always empty.

You got a big belly...
but you got no guts.

You come a long way in
the world since you, uh,

hired out as a bouncer

in a dance hall, huh?

You even change your
name from, uh, Waller to Yale.

Like the college.

College boy who couldn't

make grammar school.

Frankie Yale.

Some class, huh?

I'm sorry, I make a mistake.

Partners shouldn't fight anyway.

That's what we're gonna be now,

from now on.

Partners. Right?

You're crazy!

Sixty for you, 40 for me, right?

No!

Well, maybe you'd
like better fifty-fifty?

Oh, don't worry, you're
still the artichoke king.

Me, I'm only a crown prince.

Show you my heart's
in the right place,

I'll go down and collect from
Cestari myself, personally.

Okay? Get out!

Sure.

Me?

I'm only a silent partner.

Any trouble? Who asked you?!

Anybody ask you?!
Go on, get out!

Get out of my sight!

Hey, Marlowe.

What do you know
about the Margay brand?

The worst kind.

That's what I figured.

Only I gotta make sure.

You know, you got no
respect for the public's stomach,

you know that, kiddo?

Hey, Marlowe.

You happen to
know a decent brand?

Yeah, I know a decent brand.

You see? I ask my
friend, he tells me.

Only trouble is, some
guys just don't know

where to get good advice.

Not even when they
had a good warning.

Haven't you done
enough around here?

Hey, Marlowe. Have we
done enough around here?

He don't pass his examination.

No?

Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk.

You get a bad mark.

Tony! Tony! Tony!

Don't you touch her.

I'll do what you want.

You know something,
Marlowe? We were wrong.

He learned his lesson after all.

That's a good boy, Tony.

Okay, now you owe my
company 600 bucks a week

for goods you
should have ordered.

That's two weeks.

Like they say in
business, it's retroactive.

That's 1,200 bucks.

I'll need a few days.

Sure.

I'll go along. You know
why? Because I'm a nice guy.

You just bring the
money Friday night, 7:00.

The Remo Restaurant,
Bay Ridge, Brooklyn.

Do you know where that is?

I'll be there.

I know you will.

Sharp.

Break that.

Break it.

Keep the change.

Keep the change.

Tony.

I'm glad you called me.

Right in front of my mother
they pushed me around.

What did they want?

Twelve-hundred dollars
by Friday night at 7:00.

I'm supposed to take
it to their payoff place,

Remo Restaurant in Bay Ridge.

There were two of them.

Frankie something. Dark.

A man named Marlowe.

Thanks, Tony.

You all right?

That's not what hurts,
Mr. Ness. Not that.

Do you know what she said
to me last night, my mother?

"Let's go back to Italy tonight.

"Leave everything behind and...

And... And go back
to the old country."

The old country. This
is my country, Mr. Ness.

Wha... What happens if people
get away with things like that?

I don't know all
the answers, Tony.

Just enough to
keep me on the job.

Cops on the take,
crooked politicians,

even as high up as a judge
with his finger in the pie.

Maybe it's the times that
breeds it. I don't know.

I just know that not nearly
enough people are interested.

Why bother then?

Because you care, Tony.

Because I care.

April 25th, 1931.

Ciro Terranova made a hurried
and secret trip to Chicago.

Though he didn't know it,

Terranova was
starting to carry out

the prediction
made by Eliot Ness.

His double world was
beginning to crumble.

He was now trying
to do something

about gluing it back together.

Hey!

I didn't come all
the way to Chicago

to watch you shave.

Yeah, you told me what
you came all the way here for.

Ten times.

So you listen 11
times. It don't hurt you.

I want no slip-ups.

So far, all we
talked about is you.

When do we talk
about compensation?

When I know you got
everything straight. Mm-hm.

I don't ask favors.

How much?

Twenty?

Woo-woo.

You crazy or something?

Twenty thousand. Oh.

An important
personage like that...

I could get into a jam.

I'll give you 10.

Not to me you won't.

Okay. Okay. So
long as it's done.

Ah! Gee...

It's only a scratch.

Ah. I don't like scars.

I'll give you 5 down.

Uh...

here's the contract.

Sign it.

Hey, what is this? A mortgage?

What am I doing? I'm
buying real estate, huh?

You know... maybe I
don't trust you, huh?

I'm just a businessman
like you, hm?

This way there's no mistakes.

I deliver, you pay off. Heh.

Then you get that back.

Hm?

Otherwise... I sue you, right?

Heh.

Place is called Remo Restaurant.

It's in Bay Ridge.

He goes there
every Friday night.

He'll be there around 7.

That's 12 times you told me.

Now, if you don't mind,

I'm gonna take a little nap.

That's why you shave?

Well, I like to look
good when I get up.

Friday.

Friday, April 29th,
1931, 6:45 p.m.

The Remo Restaurant
in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn.

The first part of Eliot Ness'
plan to entrap Frankie Yale

in an extortion plot
was well under way.

All that was left
was the waiting.

The waiting that seemed forever.

Stretching the
seconds into minutes,

the minutes into hours.

The trap was set and baited.

But the first part of
someone else's plan

involving Frankie Yale
was also well under way.

Don't cry, baby.

What am I gonna
do with you, huh?

Ah.

Come on.

Yes.

I got work to do.

Yes.

I got a chicken on the stove...

and I got supper to serve.

And Papa's coming
home soon, huh?

Tsk. You don't care? Ha-ha.

What do you want?

You want milk? Okay.

Come on, we'll go buy some
milk and then we'll go home.

Hi, Frankie.

Hey, Felix.

And now back to
The Untouchables.

Have some. It'll cool you.

Mrs. Stearns, you were
saying the shots came

from a black
sedan, is that right?

Another minute and it
would have been too late.

If she hadn't of cried,

I wouldn't take her
out of that buggy.

See? Crying's a wonderful thing.

You little crybaby, you.

Well, thank you,
ma'am. Thank you.

Come. I'll help you
upstairs. Another minute.

How does it add up so far?

Well, somebody who
knew where Yale was going

didn't want him to get there.

And the machine-gun
slugs point to a mobster.

A member of a rival gang.

I got a hunch it's Terranova.

How do you figure?

We knew that Yale was
on his way to the Remo

to make his weekly
collections for Terranova.

From all we've heard, he's
done a good job for him.

Maybe too good.

They also heard that
Yale's getting too big

for his britches.

I had a good look at Terranova.

He thinks he's Napoleon.

That's just how he'd take
care of any insubordination.

Makes a lot of sense.

All we have to do
now is figure out

who Terranova
would hire for the job.

A needle in a haystack.

Terranova's too smart to
hire a local hatchet man.

Most of them are
too close to Yale.

My guess is an
out-of-town killer.

Chicago?

Where else?

Ness speaking.

Thanks.

They found the murder car.

Let's go.

Thorough investigation
of the murder car

revealed no identity as
to the murder weapon.

The weapon had been discarded
according to gangland custom.

It served its purpose.
It was of no further use.

But it was to serve
still another purpose

for Eliot Ness and
the Untouchables.

Working through the night
and into the following day

with police ballistics,

they came upon a
very interesting fact.

The machine gun once
belonged to Al Capone.

Well, at least Frankie Yale

found himself in good company.

Yeah. It's not every
killer that has the honor

of being rubbed out
by a machine gun

that once belonged to Al Capone.

Chicago.

Looks like your guess about that
out-of-town torpedo proved out.

Being right doesn't mean much

unless it leads us somewhere.

I get an idea where this
baby's gonna lead us.

Right to Frankie Yale's funeral.

The funeral of Frankie
Yale was typical of the era.

Gaudy, ostentatious.

An extravaganza staged by
fellow hoodlums and racketeers.

An attempt to restore some
semblance of respectability

of those who died in
the line of mobster duty.

Eliot Ness was gambling
on something else

typical of the era.

That the deepest mourner,

the one who sent the
largest amount of flowers,

almost always present,

was the man responsible
for the death of the deceased.

Hail, hail, the gang's all here.

Who's that guy with Terranova?

He's one of the boys

on his payroll: Judge Humboldt.

He's throwing the shindig
in Terranova's honor.

He's a big man, Terranova.

That's a big payroll.

Hey, when you go, you think

you'll get a turnout
like this here?

What are you doing here?

I just like to see how
they do it in the big city.

You gone out of your
head or something? Get out.

You know... it's a funny thing.

New York, Chicago...

they all look just alike

when they shut down the box.

You hear what I say?

I did a good job, huh? Hm?

I got no complaints.

Ah, you're satisfied.

Well, how about satisfying me?

I got some money coming here.

Put that away.
What are you, crazy?

In my job, I work
strictly cash on delivery.

You got delivery.

If I draw the money
out of the bank,

it's like I'm holding out a
candle to that guy Ness.

What bank?

The way I hear it, you
keep it all in shoeboxes.

Where I put it is where
the feds can count it.

Nobody with a
pencil's gonna get me.

You might get something
worse than that.

Hey. You think
Mr. Yale would mind

if I, uh, snuck out and
took in a ball game?

Now, that Lou Gehrig.

They call him "The Iron Man."

Just like you.

I'll get in touch.

There's the signal, Bill.

Rossi's got a pigeon.

It wasn't too easy.

It involved 48 hours
of time, and checking

through thousands
of police photographs

until they found what
they were looking for.

But they found him.

The man whose
picture they had taken

at Frankie Yale's funeral

before alterations
were made on his face.

Felix Burke, alias
Tom Regan, Lou Davis,

Sam Grogan, Hank Louis.

Age 36. Male, Caucasian.

Out-of-town
want file, here it is.

"Suspected of participating

in the St. Valentine's
Day Massacre, Chicago."

It's amazing what a
good plastic job can do.

Now, the question is,

what is a butcher like
Burke doing with Terranova?

Practicing his trade
on Yale. What else?

Eliot, let's pick him
up and sweat him.

Not yet. A man that can line
seven men against the wall

and mow them down
doesn't sweat that easy.

He sure put as
many bullets in Yale

as he did that whole gang.

Ness.

This is Rossi.

You still got Felix
Burke covered?

Like a blanket.

He's been in his
apartment all day,

with the exception
of one trip to the store

to buy cigarettes.

Okay, keep tailing him.

Only one difference.

Yeah?

Let him see you.

Not too obvious. Just
enough to let him know

he's being tailed.

We'll relieve you on schedule.

Right.

An open tail, huh?

Want to put the pressure on him.

He's gonna know he's
being followed 24 hours a day.

I wanna put the pressure
on Terranova too.

Before we're finished,

one of them is
gonna blow sky-high.

Then we... pick up the pieces.

What do you want?

Are you talking
to me? Yeah, you.

You and the rest of your
monkeys. What do you want?

Well... I'm... I'm a
stranger here myself.

You're no stranger to me, buddy.

Well, I'm sorry, I...

Say, uh... you all right?

Yeah, I'm all right.

So you find me on the
front porch eating nuts, huh?

So you don't like my manners.

Well, I don't blame you.

Mm-hm.

I do it so's my
neighbors can see me.

That's the way to make friends.

Show them.

You don't agree, huh?

You see these?

Makes them mad.

Like when a bull sees red.

So I'm common.

But what about them?

Excuse my manners, Mr. Ness.

You can always
handle the neighbors.

It's the other things that
bother you, Terranova, right?

I got nothing that bothers
me that I can't handle.

Sure. Anyone bothers
you, you get rid of them.

Too bad you got
so many neighbors.

You can't take
them all for a ride.

Listen.

I keep inviting them,
and they turn me down.

I got a icebox full of steaks.

First-class prime beef.

I hold out my hands
to those crumbs.

No.

No, they like the...
The cheap booze

and the tough steaks.

Heh.

That shows you how dumb...
Dumb those smart alecks can be.

Accident.

Same kind that
happened to Frankie Yale.

May he rest in peace.

How about you, Terranova?
You resting peacefully?

Sure. Sure, why not, huh?

I only think about happy things.

Good food.

Laughs.

Indian nuts.

You never know when
you might have an accident.

One minute you're
eating Indian nuts,

the next, spread
all over the floor.

You got a point there.

Right. That's what
I'm worried about.

Your life.

Come again.

You think it was smart trusting
Felix Burke with your life?

Who's Felix Burke?

You don't know Felix Burke?

You're not worried?

Hm-hm. What's to worry?

Maybe nothing.

I know how I'd feel
having a big house,

big business, good life.

And all of it depending
on a gun-crazy killer

with sick nerves.

But since you don't
know a man like that,

who might finger you for
the murder of Frankie Yale...

well, I don't blame you
for not being worried.

May you rest in
peace, Terranova.

So it's you.

Who else you think it is?

I told you I'd get in touch.

You been having
trouble finding me?

I don't like your jokes.

So don't laugh.

Five and 15 makes it 20.

That pays you off.

Let's have that contract.

How do you like this place?

Not exactly like your joint
out on the island, is it, huh?

Here. You want to try this?

See if it's like your bed.

Come on. Come on.

The contract. I gotta go.

You know how many times I
moved this week alone? Three.

Because you stalled me.

Kept me hanging
around this town.

All right.

So I take naps.

I dream.

You know what I dream about?

I dream that you're gonna
have to make it up to me.

You trying to squeeze me?

Yeah, I'm trying to squeeze you!

Like them monkeys of Ness.

Tailing me wherever I go.

You made a deal,
you lousy welcher.

Now, you listen to
me, you... You miser.

You put me out in front.

So now I got a tail
hooked to me, so...

Oh, it's driving me batty.

Yes.

Yes, I see it in your eye.

You made a deal.

Get outta here.

Punk like you.

Taking it all.

Hm-hm.

Living fat.

Hm.

What I got on you...

I could sell for plenty.

You know they're tailing
you, and you keep it on you!

In the hands of certain parties,
it could pay off from now on.

An annuity.

I'm asking double
what the deal was.

I didn't hear you.

Yes or no?

It's up to you.

Okay.

Okay.

You win.

I'll get the money.

How do I know you
won't squeeze me again?

Don't worry.

As soon as I get
it, I blow this town.

Friend of mine is gonna
give me a party next Tuesday.

You bring the paper,
I'll get the cash.

Wha...? Wha...? What friend?

Judge Humboldt.
You know the name?

Judge Albert Humboldt.

Wear a clean shirt.

It's formal.

It at the Roman Gardens.

Okay.

And bring your contract.

Bring money.

It'll be there.

I gotta give you credit.

For Ciro the handwriting
was on the wall,

and it spelled out one fact:

Burke had a good
thing in his pocket.

And whether or not
he meant to return it

after the extra squeeze,

Ciro wasn't taking any chances.

He knew he had to
get that contract back

or risk being blackmailed
for the rest of his life.

The plan he had in mind

depended on knowing
the right people.

And Ciro knew the right people.

A long-distance phone call
was made that night to Detroit.

What Ciro Terranova had to say

was listened to and agreed upon.

Ciro had set the stage.

May 10th, 1931, 8:00 p.m.

The Roman Gardens,
Brooklyn, New York.

The first of the invited
guests to the banquet,

about to be held in
Ciro Terranova's honor,

began to arrive.

Hey, Felix!

Felix, come in. Come in.

Have a drink.

I'm the guest of honor.

But this is the
cream of the crop.

What's your pleasure?

Some of the good stuff.

Only the best. The best.

Sure.

This is, uh, Judge Humboldt.

This is Mr. Cogan.

This is, uh, Felix, uh... Brown.

Mr. Brown is a very important
Chicago businessman.

Mr. Brown. Your Honor.

Drink up, Felix.

This is a night of celebration.

I've got news.

All right, Marty.
Tell us about it.

I just got a tip from
one of my contacts.

Five expert heist men just
blew in today from out of town.

The word's out that they're
contracted to Terranova

and going back on
the midnight special.

Looks like he's got a job
lined up for them tonight.

Tonight's the night of the
big banquet for Terranova.

Bill.

Your report said that Felix
Burke bought a tux today, right?

That's right.

Looks like he
intends to be there.

Terranova, Felix Burke,
five out-of-town mobsters,

and a banquet at
the Roman Gardens.

Why don't we invite
ourselves to Terranova's party?

Rico...

You're about to
rent yourself a tux.

I am?

That Valentino profile,

they won't be able to tell
you from the mobsters.

You three downstairs.

Take your time.

Everyone!

All the men take
their jackets off.

Hey, what was that?

Just take it easy
and do as you're told.

Hey. Who are you messing with?

This is Judge Humboldt.

His Honor, Judge
Albert Humboldt.

Now go on! Get out of here.

You want him dead?

All right, everybody up.
Put your hands on your head.

You hear me?

All right, everything
goes in the bag.

And I mean everything.

Hurry up.

How about you?

Everybody take off their pants.

Come on, give.

Hey, you. Pants.

I ain't gonna take off no pants.

For you I'll make one exception.

You'd better make
it two exceptions.

Put your hands down.

Roman Gardens.

You're from Rome,
aren't you, Rico?

That was a long time ago.

And, besides, it was Capri.

Do you know where that is?

Sure, warm
weather, good fishing,

water as blue as ink.

Now's the time. Easy does it.

Hey. I don't see Rossi anymore.

Better take a closer look.

Give me those wallets.
Come on, give us those wallets.

Come on everybody. Hurry up.

Put it in the sack. In the sack.

Come on, let's
take the rings off.

The rings and pearls too, lady.

Come on. Let's
get that rock off.

Everything in the
sack. Come on, now.

Everybody. Come on. Come on.

Let's get those wallets.
Come on. The wallets.

All right, let's
have the wallets.

Are you all right, Ciro?

You got eyes, you can see.

But they're still downstairs.

Hide the rocks. No, this first.

You.

Ah!

You all right?

I took a short nap.
I... I feel fine now.

There's three more of
them. Clean up inside.

Mr. Ness.

Excuse me, Mrs. Terranova.

You're dead, Terranova.

Dead as Frankie Yale.

With the arrest
of Ciro Terranova,

his control of the
produce market ended.

He took his own life
on February 21st, 1938.

The Untouchables.