All language subtitles for S04E24 One Last Killing

(theme music plays)

WALTER WINCHELL:
Portrait of an executioner.

His name,
John "The Cropper” Cropsie.

Occupation, chief enforcer
for Jules Flack,

the boss
of the West Side combine.

On the night of
February 1, 1933,

Cropsie waited
near the stage door

of the Lido Burlesque House

for David Alpine,

a whiskey supplier
for the Flack combine,

and shot him to death.

NESS:
All right, that's far enough.

WINCHELL:
On the night of February 2,

Eliot Ness
and the Chicago police

had Cropsie reenact the crime.

Mr. Ness...

why don't you give me
some bullets

and, uh,

you stand up here
where Dave Alpine was,

and let's see if I can hit a man
at this range, hmm?

You hit Alpine.

Got a witness?

Flack wouldn't trust
anyone but you, Cropper,

to discipline one of his
own suppliers.

Don't blame Mr. Flack.

It's repeal, repeal, right?

It's just around the corner.

Everybody wants to make that
last buck off Prohibition.

One last killing, huh?

(chuckles)
Well, when a clown like Alpine

thinks he can sell
to the competition,

I mean, what are you gonna do?

You understand Flack
and his problems, don't you?

13 years with the man.

Could tell me
a lot about him, huh?

When you think
I'll start talking?

Around the time you realize
you're in for a murder rap.

Well, like I said before,

you got a witness?

That's right.
I got a witness.

(door opens)

Mrs. Alpine, Cropper.

She was coming out
of the stage door.

All she has to do is point.

ANNOUNCER:

"One Last Killing."

Starring Robert Stack
as Eliot Ness.

Co-starring Don Gordon,

Harold J. Stone,

and Jeanne Cooper.

Narrated by Walter Winchell.

NESS:
Raise the gun.

Point it where you
had it before.

Come on!

Mrs. Alpine,

is this the man
who shot your husband?

I don't recognize him.

Why protect a crumb like him?

I don't recognize him.

He killed your husband, Belle.

-Can I go?
-No.

I'm holding you
as a material witness.

Well, then, hold me
somewhere else.

It's, uh, cold outside.

Take her in.

Can I go home now?

Go on home to Flack, chump.

Ness.

Hey, Ness?

What's with this chump gag?

What would you
call yourself, Cropper?

13 years you've done Flack's
dirty work for him.

Made him rich.

We stick you for murder, who do
you think's going to the chair?

Not Flack.

Alpine's boys want revenge,
who'll get hit?

You, not Flack.

Nah, he'll take the fortune
that you made for him,

buy into the Lucky Luciano
operation,

and leave you holding the bag,
chump.

Why the lection?

I was trying to spoil him...

for Jules Flack.

WINCHELL: Jules Flack, the boss
of the West Side combine,

was preparing
for the big switch.

He knew that, although whiskey
might be legal next year,

traffic and vice
and narcotics would not.

You think we ought to trim some
off the back here, Victor?

It's a little too full.

Mr. Flack, that's
a natural wave.

I wouldn't touch it.

Oh, you know your job, Victor.

And you got sense enough to
stick with it and be satisfied.

It's too bad everybody
don't feel the same way.

I always thought Mr. Cropsie
was satisfied, until today.

But something must've happened.

What happened, Cropper?

13 years I stick
my neck out for you.

What do I get to show for it?

Aw, come on, Cropper.

Ask for something
more reasonable.

A piece of the business
is reasonable.

A piece of the business, Julian,
that's all I'm asking.

You ain't got any head
for business.

I got a head for anything
when I put my mind to it.

Sure.

When it comes to handling
torpedoes, nobody can top you.

But that doesn't mean you can
handle the business end

of the business.

You ever try me?

Oh, you want to try out?

Help me convert my assets
into a couple of million bucks

to put down with Luciano

and still have enough left over
to keep operating here.

That's a business problem.

Can you solve it?

When Mr. Flack comes into my
shop to relax

from his big problems,
don't bother him,

will you please?

Victor, I'm gonna take one
of your own razors,

I'm gonna cut your throat.

Hey, shut up
with that kind of talk.

The man's working on me
with a sharp instrument.

So you want to try out, huh?

Okay.

Lefty Gorman is in the hospital.

You can take over
his concession.

Gorman's concession?

That's peddling door-to-door.

They order three dollars
worth of stuff

and then you got to wait till
next week to collect the money.

Why don't you give me
a paper route?

No. Show up at the end of the
month with a profit,

and we'll talk
about bigger deals.

I know you, Julie.

You're offering me this deal

because you figure
I'm gonna turn it down,

but I'm gonna fool you.

I'm gonna take it.

You got it.

But don't sell me short,
Cropper.

I offered the deal because
I can't afford to lose you.

When I get down to brass tacks
with Luciano,

who do I want standing behind
me, if not you?

So I'll let you go, John.

But you'll come back.

You really don't think I'll make
a good business man, huh?

Who? You?
John the Cropper?

In a month, you'll be killing
off all your customers.

(laughs)

WINCHELL:
While Cropsie was learning

the fine points
of the booze business

from three dollar customers,

Dave Alpine's widow came out
of Chicago police headquarters.

From her,

the police had learned
exactly nothing.

The Untouchables had arranged
a surprise meeting

with two of her old friends,

two triggermen
for the late Dave Alpine.

One was Murray Alpine,

a first cousin
of the murdered racketeer.

The other was his pal
and backup man,

Phil Olive.

ROSSI:
All right, turn around.

Oh, hi, Belle.
Where you been?

We've been looking
all over for you.

I bet.

What do you mean "you bet?"

Don't you think we care about
what happened to Dave?

Yeah, well, here's your chance
to do something about it.

Now, she saw the guy
who killed Dave.

You're supposed to be
good friends, right?

Will you persuade her
to tell us who it was?

We'll do the rest.

You know, he's right, Belle.

Yeah, Belle, if you know who
killed Dave,

you should absolutely
tell the officer.

I have nothing to say.

Was it Cropsie, Belle?
Just answer yes or no.

That's all I ask.
Was it?

I have nothing to say.

Well, now, if she has
nothing to say,

I guess we can't
force her, now, uh, can we?

No.

Yeah, sure, thanks
for the nice try.

Go on, beat it.

See you, Belle.

Well, come on, Belle,
we'll drive you home.

Don't do me any favors.

I'll take a cab.

She tipped them.
I saw her do it.

Yeah.

Well, if we can't scare Cropsie
into opening up against Flack,

maybe those two gunsels can.

Yeah, but what if they
don't bother to scare him?

They just pick him up
and kill him?

That's his tough luck.
Come on.

WOMAN:
Stop it! Stop it!

Now, give me the 12 bucks.

Three dollars now
and the rest next week.

That's what you said last week.

No, no, no, he will
be able to pay you.

He's going back
to work next week.

-Oh, yeah?
-Yeah.

Where?

At the Pyramid Solvents
Corporation.

I'm a chemist.

So, how come you're
out a job for six months?

The plant was closed down.
No business.

-Now we're re-opening.
-Oh, I see.

Prosperity just turned
the corner, huh?

You...

No, no!

No, honestly,

we've accumulated orders
for 50,000 gallons of alcohol.

It has to processed,
it has to be shipped out.

So there will be
a few weeks work

for a skeleton staff.

What do you mean alcohol?

Not moonshine?

No, no, of course not.

This is denatured alcohol,

manufactured
under federal license

for industrial use.

WOMAN:
Oh!

You trying to tell me
there's 50,000 gallons

of that stuff
just sitting there?

Yes.

That's right, Mr. Cropsie.

So, you can believe me,

I will be able to pay you.

Well, I don't know whether
I believe you or not,

but, uh, you keep talking to me.

Maybe you'll convince me, hmm?

Figures.

It's the law of averages.

What's the matter, Cropper?
You expect to live forever?

Come on, get in the car.

Gunsels.

Muscles, stupid muscles.

What are you talking about?

Chumps.

You're chumps.

You take all the risks,

somebody else
takes all the gravy.

You know, you made a businessman
out of a crumb like Dave Alpine.

What do you do for Julie Flack?

Who did... No more.

I'm through.

That's right, Cropper.

You're through.

Oh, I almost had it.

So close, I could
feel it in my hand.

50,000 gallons

of industrial alcohol.

50,000 gallons.

Just sitting there
waiting for somebody to take it.

Cook the poison out.

Let's see, uh,

20 bottles to the gallon,

I don't care how cheap you sell,

you got to make
a million dollars.

A million dollar killing.

How's that for dough?

(laughs)

Yeah, but you want to kill me
for nothing, right?

Chumps.

All right with that chumps bit.

You say you got this deal?

On the level?

Yeah.

And we could get in?

Yeah.

How do we know you mean it?

I, I need help.

I can't handle it myself.

Hey, Phil.

Give him back his gun.

What do you say, we partners?

Hmm?

You know, Murray...

he means it.

Okay, we're partners.

Here, Phil, now you
can give him the bullets.

(laughs)

WINCHELL:
By Thursday, February 11,

Jules Flack had cashed in all
his booze holdings

in the city.

He was losing no time

in making his bid
to tie in with Luciano.

Thanks.

Flack's on the move again.

Sold 32 speaks
to a restaurant chain.

What about Cropsie?

He hasn't been near Flack.

I guess your lecture's
been paying off, Eliot.

Either that or he's dead.

What about Belle Alpine?

Nothing.

Apartment to theater,

theater to apartment.
No visitors even.

You boys could've
checked in by phone.

If they get Cropsie,

it might hurt Flack,
but not where it helps us.

In six months, this town
will be flooded with narcotics.

We've got to get Flack, but how?

Suppose we just bring him in?

Nothing to bring him in on.

All we've got so far is he
spends a lot of time

in a barber's chair.

You still want me
to stick with him?

Like glue.

WINCHELL:
The Cropper was arriving

at the Pyramid Solvents plant

with his partners

and a couple of hired hands.

Remember what I told you,
nobody gets dead.

I don't want to make a big
splash in the papers.

Especially, I don't want
Ness coming in.

Yeah.

Now, Murray, remember
what I told you.

No matter how itchy
that finger of yours gets,

nobody gets killed.

Okay, okay, I heard you.

All right, let's go.

No, I'm terribly sorry,
sir, but he's not in.

May I take a message?

CROPSIE:
Everybody stay where you are.

You the manager of this place?

Well, y-yes.

How many other people
work in the place?

Th-Three.

There's three out in the plant.

Skeleton crew this week.

Now, get on that squawk box
and call them in here.

Come on!

Ferris, hello, Ferris.

Come in here a moment, please,

and bring the rest of them
with you.

That's fine.

Now stand over
against that wall.

Come on.

All right, everybody move.
Face the wall, let's go.

All except you, honey.

You stay on the switchboard.
Come on.

Relax.
Don't be nervous.

Nobody's gonna hurt you.

I can't open that safe.

Only the president
has the combination.

We know that.

We've done our homework
for this job.

All right, Pat,
it's all yours.

Gonna take about three hours
to open this with a torch.

Well, take four!

Nobody's in a hurry.

I better warn you, so you won't
be angry afterwards,

there's only about
$120 in that safe.

That's what you say.
We heard more like $12,000.

-I heard there was $15,000.
-(door opens)

All right, come in.
All the way in.

Let's go. Come on.

Move, move.
Don't be nervous.

Relax.
Just stand against that wall.

Come on, move.

(snaps fingers)

Come on, the door.

(whistles)

All right, here's
the merchandise.

Now start moving it.

The idea is to deliver it,

dump it in the vats, and see how
fast you can get back for more.

And don't forget the empty cans.
Now, come on, move.

WINCHELL:
In a matter of minutes,

the first truckload of stolen
industrial alcohol

was on its way.

Inside the office it appeared

that only the safe
was being robbed.

The factory staff has no reason
to suspect otherwise.

(phone rings)

Incoming phone calls
were answered smoothly.

Visitors were received
efficiently.

Don't get yourself in an uproar.
Just get over by that wall.

Come on, you got enough empties.

Fill 'em up and put "em back
the way we found them.

What do I fill them with?

What do you think
you're gonna fill them with?

WINCHELL:
In a matter of hours,

the job was finished.

Very disappointing.

I'm gonna have to
empty out your pockets.

I'm sorry, but we've got
to have something to show

for all this work.

WINCHELL:
The trucks pulled out

with the last of the 50,000
gallons of alcohol,

and no one knew

it had been stolen.

Hello, Eliot? Rico.

Cropsie's very much alive.

Just walked into
the Oak Lodge Grill.

Flack's eating here.

That makes the day complete.

Now, you stay with Flack.

We want the big fish.

Little ones
will follow right behind.

Right.

Bad news?

Now what could have happened

to have stopped Belle Alpine's
boys from liquidating Cropsie?

How much you want for it?

Special to you,
one million dollars.

Special to me, huh?

Mm-hmm.
-(laughs)

As if I'd let you sell it
to anybody else

and go on breathing.

Come on, Julie.

Don't talk like a hood,
talk like a business man.

Am I asking such an unreasonable
price for merchandise

with a guarantee
that it isn't even hot?

You're not a businessman
or you'd know

that if I'm your only market,
you got to take my price.

And that raw alky
is only worth 100,000 to me.

What's the matter, Julie?

Can't you stand
to see me get along? Hmm?

I mean, you want me back again
so bad under your thumb?

Nice friend.

Ah, talk like a businessman.

Al right.

50,000 gallons
is 200,000 quarts,

which you will cut
to a half a million,

which you will retail
at six dollars a quart.

Three dollars.

Listen, Julie.

You meet my price

or I'll pour that stuff
down the drain.

WINCHELL: Another man with
a flare for business

was the chemist, Ferris.

On the third night following
the alcohol heist,

he appeared
at the abandoned brewery,

which served as hiding place
for the loot.

(knocks)

Hello.

Remember me?
I'm Ferris, Pyramid Solvents.

Take it easy.

I'm not going
to cause any trouble.

I'd like to talk to Mr. Cropsie.

Well, he ain't here.

We're his partners, talk to us.

Al right.

Well,

how shall I put this?

It's my job

to test the alcohol
at the plant, you know?

And when I took some
in the hydrometer,

the specific gravity
came up one.

That's water.

Why, then, I'd realized
what you fellas had done.

You did?

Yes.

So, then, I reasoned

that you didn't have time to
transport 50,000 gallons

any distance. So...

I got into my car

and I cruised around the
vicinity

yesterday and today,

and I saw you fellas come
in here a little while ago.

You did?

Now, I haven't told anyone,

and that sort of makes me
a co-conspirator.

(laughs)

You can be assured

I'll go right on being quiet,

but I do think I ought to get
a little something out of it.

Shall we say $1,000?

I'll get my wallet.

Murray, no!

(gun shots)

We could've paid him off
for a lousy couple of hundred.

So, this is cheaper, no?

Cropper said nobody gets killed.

Cropper'll never know.

He said he came in his own car.

We put him back in his own car,

shove him off
the Smith Street wharf.

Huh?

WINCHELL: At the end of the
Smith Street wharf,

the water was 30 feet deep.

But a few feet below
the surface,

a projecting beam
caught the car

and held it in sight.

ANNOUNCER: And now,
back to The Untouchables.

WINCHELL: The activities of the
Pyramid Solvents Corporation,

like all Chicago alcohol
producers

licensed by the federal
government,

were of special interest
to Eliot Ness and his staff,

and the murder of its chemist

demanded immediate
investigation.

The obvious first step

was to look over the 50,000
gallon stockpile.

It all seemed to be there.

Tell me, was Ferris in the
position to sell off

a few gallons on the sly?

Now, why do you ask that?

'Cause, in large part, the
illegal booze being sold

started out as either industrial
or medicinal alcohol.

-Hmm.
-What's over here?

More of the same.
Come on, I'll show you.

Hey, you notice something, Lee?

There's not much of an alcohol
smell in here?

Probably because of the new
denaturant they're using.

Watch out, Lee!

Funny thing, Eliot.
This alcohol is odorless.

Yeah.

This alcohol is water.

WINCHELL:
March 1, 1933.

Across the nation,

a wave of bank failures
brought panic.

Americans waited hopefully

for Franklin D. Roosevelt

to restore stability.

In Chicago, Mrs. Belle Alpine

waited impatiently for Murray
Alpine

to avenge the murder
of her husband.

He was your own
flesh and blood, Murray.

Aren't you even ashamed?

Belle, I'm only thinking
of your financial position.

All Dave left was a lousy piece
of real estate.

I said I was gonna have it
appraised, I did.

And it ain't worth beans.

That has something to do

with getting even for Dave, hmm?

Yeah, because Phil and me went
in on this business deal,

partly for your sake.

That has something to do
with Cropsie?

Well, yeah, because...

Yeah, because?

Because I got no time
to bother with him now.

No time?

Or no guts?

Belle.

Belle, I swear,

I'm all set
to make a million dollars.

(laughs)

A million dollars, Belle.

And I'm gonna
take care of you...

...out of that money.

And then I take care of Cropsie.

WINCHELL: John the Cropper
guarded his stolen alcohol

in his hiding place

and waited grimly

for Jules Flack
to meet his price.

And Flack waited angrily

to find out why the
Untouchables

had picked him up
in the middle of the night.

Wait outside, fellas.

I may not want any witnesses.

Flack, I'm looking for 50,000
gallons of alcohol

stolen from the Pyramid
Solvents Corporation.

The heist was pulled off by
three men

who just could be John Cropsie,

Murray Alpine, and Phil Olive.

(laughs)

The Cropper teaming up
with those two?

-You're dreaming.
-Am I?

Those two aren't
gunning for Cropsie.

Cropsie isn't
enforcing for you.

Looks like they found
something better to do.

So what do you want of me?

Cropsie wouldn't sell the booze
to anybody but you.

Unless he was prepared
to commit suicide.

And what makes you think I want
any part of that alcohol?

Call it instinct.

What's this?

Formula for removing denaturant.

Go on, take it.

Look, Ness, is that what you
dragged me down here for?

I told you I'm not interested.

I said take it.

There's a new denaturant in that
batch that's not fit to drink.

This is the only safe way
to purify it.

Very funny.

Eliot Ness showing me
how to process booze.

Why?

Because I don't want it
on my conscience

I could've prevented the
wholesale poisoning

of the population of Chicago.

(chuckles)
That's a laugh.

Can I go now?

Go on, get out.

I hope it works.

Yeah, that formula can make
an awful lot of booze.

Yeah, but that alcohol
is so hot now

we've probably scared him off.

Didn't look scared to me.

Merchandise that isn't even hot.

Ness knows all about it!
Even knows who stole it!

Julie, what do you want?

You know my problem,
businessman.

I still need more cash
for my deal with Luciano.

Only got one way
to raise it in a hurry.

I want that alcohol.

All right, I'll get it to you.

Oh, just like that?

You think you
can deliver it like milk?

The way Ness is looking for it,

you couldn't even deliver it
across the street,

you big businessman.

I'm through playing
patsy with you.

I'm gonna tell you
exactly what to do

and I don't want to hear
no more negotiating.

Stuff is too hot to move now.

All right, first,
you're gonna cool it off.

After all, Murray,
it's a million dollar deal.

Flack is right,

we don't want nothing
to go wrong.

We got to make Ness
stop looking for the stuff.

Did Flack say how?

He said first we give Ness
a phony tip where the stuff is.

So he raids and he finds
a few cans of alcohol

and he thinks that's it.

The rest of the stuff must be

distributed, sold off, gone.

So he stops looking for it.

Understand, Murray?

I understand.

But why did The Cropper
tell you and didn't tell me?

You weren't around.

So he telephoned me and I'm
telling you,

that's all.

Flack has this old warehouse
that he don't use no more.

That's what we're gonna
let Ness raid.

How do we convince Ness
that it's not a decoy?

Well, John has to convince him.

Isn't that right, John?

I got a good convincer.

You see, we leave somebody
there for Ness to find.

A patsy.

Suppose the patsy talks?

Well, he have to make sure
he can't talk.

Hmm?

Who've you got in mind?

Well, it has to be somebody Ness

thinks was in on the heist.

You see, he's got it figured
for the three of us.

After all, Murray,

it's your fault
we're in all this trouble.

Some joke, Cropper.

No, no joke, Murray.

A million dollar deal
is no joke.

Hey, Phil.

You get this?

This guy is trying to get wise
with me and you, Phil.

Phil, I...

I said you and me.

Murray, you know me,

I've always been with you,

all the time.

But you had to go
and knock this guy off

and bring in Ness.

Why'd you have to louse up
a million dollar deal?

Cropsie, you said no killing.

That's what you said.
No killing, Cropper.

Cropper?

But you wouldn't listen, Murray.

Phil?

Cropper, you said no killing.
Phil!

You and me, Phil.

You and me, Phil.
Remember, Phil?

No killing,
that's what you said!

Phil!

(screaming)

Phil, help me, Phil!

WINCHELL: On the night of
Friday, March 3,

the Untouchables received
an anonymous telephone tip

directing them to an area

which had been honeycombed with
bootleg warehouses

ten years earlier.

They arrived, apparently,

ten seconds too late.

(gun shots)

Take a walk!

Go, let's go!

It's no good, Eliot.

Look.

Murray Alpine.

What would make him tie up the
guy he was supposed to kill?

Maybe cold cash.

What's inside?

Nine containers
of industrial alcohol.

Only nine?

Then they did have
the stuff stashed here.

They must've sold off the rest.

That seems to be it.

It seems to be it, all right.

Or is it?

(jaunty music plays
in other room)

(applause and cheering)

WINCHELL:
Saturday, March 4.

Chicago newspapers reported
the death of Murray Alpine.

The story was on page three.

It is a question
whether Belle Alpine

read page one as thoroughly.

MAN:
Let's go. Come on.

Come on, come on, hurry up.

Two minutes, girls.
Let's go.

Is it my turn now, Mrs. Alpine?

To do what?

Get Cropsie for you.

Don't bother to come in.

I haven't got any more to say
to you now than I did before.

Tough break, wasn't it, Belle?

Murray just needs him
to take care of the Cropper.

If you say so.

It's what he was gonna do,
wasn't it, Belle?

Look, what do you want?

I want you to get smart.

Murray wasn't going after
Cropsie,

Murray was in partnership
with him.

Partnership with who?

John the Cropper.

You think I'm stupid enough

to believe that?

No, I think you're
too smart, Belle.

You put your trust in a thief
like Murray,

who was in partnership
with Cropsie,

who had Flack
behind him all the time.

The man who killed
your husband, Belle.

That's how smart you are.

You're a liar.

Cropsie was in the car before it
pulled away from the warehouse.

Now, read that story again.

And make up your mind how long
you want to go on

putting your trust in thieves.

WINCHELL: Belle Alpine
was not the only one

who read the story thoroughly.

On Saturday night,

Jules Flack
was still reading it.

You, sit down.

Go ahead.

And you, out in the back.

I'm working on Mr. Flack.

Uh, Victor, go on in the back.

Here, practice reading.

Well, I see your catching up
on the latest news, huh?

One thing before
you get too cocky.

No money until I see
the alcohol.

Julie, I trust you
like you trust me.

I got to see the money first.

Oh, I'll show it to you.

Then I'll put it away nice
and safely in your bank.

Okay, businessman?

You do have a bank account,
don't you?

Yeah, I got a bank account.

My bank is closed on weekends.

I'll put it in the night
depository with your name on it.

Then Monday morning,
you can pick it up.

If I got the alcohol by then.

If there's no hitches.

No hitches.

Murray was the last hitch.

Monday morning, quarter to nine.

Phil takes you
to where the stuff is,

shows it to you,

you see everything's
all right, hmm?

Now how much?

Two dollars a gallon.

Times 50,000.
That's not bad, eh, Cropper?

Come up, Julie.

Come up.

Three dollars.

Julie.

Nobody's even
looking for this stuff.

(laughs)

All right, 3.50.

That's 175,000...

and you better grab it before I
see if I can't sweat the stuff

out of you for nothing.

(laughs)

All right, I'll take it.

(snaps fingers)

What's the name of your bank?

Yardman's National.

-(phone rings)
-Give me a pencil and paper.

Go to the office and get this
money and put it in this bank.

Hello?
Wait, I'll see.

Are you in, Mr. Flack?

I think it's a dame.

Hello?

Flack, this is Belle Alpine.

I, um, I want to see you.

What about?

About Murray getting killed
in the wrong place.

And what's wrong about it?

Well, I,

I wouldn't be too surprised if
it was at the old brewery

that Ness didn't raid...

yet.

Hold on a minute.

Cropsie.

Is the stuff in the old brewery?

Who says?

Belle Alpine.
Well, is it or not?

Yeah.

No hitches, you said.

Everything's okay.

If you want to see me,
Belle, by all means.

Come up to my apartment
in about an hour.

Talk.

How did she know about it?

I don't know.

I simply wanted to know,
so I went there and looked.

But how did you
know where to go?

Well, from what Ness told me

and what Murray told me,

I put two and two together.

And then you broke in?

With my key.

Your key?

I own the building.

You own it?

Oh, you're the relative

Murray said he rented
it from, huh?

No, no, Murray
didn't rent it.

No.

He simply asked for the key
to have the place appraised.

I suppose he thought you would
have the stuff

sold and out of there long
before I caught on.

Mm-hmm.

Put that gun away.

I got to take care of this.

I'll take care of it.

No, she's after me.
She wants my skin.

You listen to me.

I just might let her have it.

How much do you
think his skin is worth?

Nothing.

It really doesn't matter
too much anymore.

Maybe I'm getting old.

Maybe I'm getting smart.

Murray promised me
a share of his share.

I'll settle for that.

How much?

$100,000.

You got it.

And you're gonna pay it.

What do you mean?
Why should I?

Why should I pay?

Because as a business man,

you got to learn how
to pay your bills.

No, I'm not gonna give most
of the dough to her. No!

You'll pay it or you won't live
long enough to spend a nickel,

you hear me?

(phone rings)

Hello, Ness.

Hello, Mr. Ness.

This is Cropsie,

John Cropsie.
You listening?

Yes.

Mr. Ness, you want Flack?

Jules Flack?

Well, I'll hand him to you.

Not just information,

not just moonshine,

I'll give you Flack himself.

Why?

Well, it's strictly business.

If he stays in circulation,
he costs me $100,000.

I want you to take him
out of circulation.

Is that hard to believe?

What's the catch?

Oh, no catch, strictly business.

Look, you got
nothing on me, Ness.

You're not gonna
get anything on me.

I'm out of this.

But Flack is in.

Any other questions?

Where do I pick him up?

WINCHELL:
Monday, March 6, 8:45 a.m.

While Cropsie waited
in his apartment

for the bank to open,

Phil Olive took Flack to the
hiding place of the alcohol.

Okay.
It's good enough for me.

NESS:
It's good enough for me, too.

Wait a minute.

We're waiting.

You got me wrong.
I just walked in.

It's not my stuff.

I didn't have
anything to do with it.

Well, I didn't steal the stuff.

Cropsie stole it.
Cropsie, not me.

We didn't catch Cropsie with
his finger in the cookie jar.

We just caught you.

(gun shot)

WINCHELL:
Promptly at 10:00 a.m.,

Cropsie appeared at the bank.

Closed?
But it can't be closed.

Hey, why is this bank closed?

They closed all over
the country today.

They declared a bank holiday.

You mean, I can't get my money?

Not for a while.

I don't have a while.
I got to get out of town.

Open up!

Come on, I got
my money in there!

Give me my money!

NESS:
Leave it there, Cropper.

You won't need it.

-Get away from me.
-All right.

-Now, Ness, you can't touch me.
-Let's see.

You haven't got anything on me,
not a thing.

Well, come on, what do you got?

Flack's dead.

Well, so what?

Belle Alpine doesn't feel
she can do business with you,

so she just remembered
you shot her husband.

Come on, let's go.

WINCHELL:
Within the year,

Prohibition came to an end.

Surviving booze barons

and their triggermen switched
over to other rackets:

vice, narcotics,
gambling, extortion.

But Eliot Ness could be sure

that Jules Flack
and John the Cropper

would never make it.