T-Men (1947)

[bunniefuu]

NARRATOR:
In our nation's capital

is a branch of the government
over a century and a half old,

established under President
George Washington in 1789,

the United States
Treasury Department.

We're going to take you
inside and introduce you

to the former
chief coordinator

of the law enforcement agencies
of the Treasury Department,

Mr. Elmer Lincoln Irey.

I'm happy to have this chance
to tell you about the work

of the law enforcement agents
of the Treasury Department.

There are six units
of "shock troops,"

in the Treasury's striking
force against crime.

These are the
Intelligence Unit,

which tracks down
income tax violators.

The Custom Agency Service, with the
Border Patrol, which fights smuggling,

the Narcotics Unit,
the Secret Service,

which guards the President
and ferrets out counterfeits,

the Alcohol Tax Unit,
which uncovers bootleggers,

and the Coast Guard.

These are the six fingers of
the Treasury Department fist.

And that fist hits fair,
but hard.

To give you an idea of how
big a job they really do,

in one year, as high as 64% of all
prisoners in Federal penitentiaries

were sent there by this group.

We are going to show you
a composite case

which will let you see
how these agents work

and how the units cooperate.

We call it the
"The Shanghai Paper" case.

And it was broken just as
we broke the Al Capone case.

Undercover work, such as
was necessary in this case,

means "danger"
and plenty of it.

NARRATOR: The case
started in Los Angeles

in a districtjust off
Santa Monica Boulevard.

A Secret Service agent had arranged
a meeting with an underworld informer.

The informer had promised to turn
over a clean sample of the paper

being used by
a counterfeit g*ng.

This was the first break
in a long and baffling case.

[g*nshots]

Having informed the Los
Angeles Police of the k*lling,

the agent reported in to the
local Secret Service office,

in the Federal building.

Thanks, Lieutenant.

Tough luck, Nesbitt.

Homicide says all they've got to go
on is the three.38 slugs from the body.

What do you know about
the m*rder*d guy?

Not much.
He was a wino.

A skid row character named as
"Shorty." A professional informer.

He was supposed to
make a meet with me

and turn over a clean sample of
the counterfeiters paper for $500.

He didn't quite make it.

Well, Nesbitt.

I guess you're washed up.

On this case, I mean.

Yeah. I was afraid of that.

Once they knew this Shorty's
movements, they probably knew yours too.

- Maybe I was lucky.
- You'll never know.

Smith got so far.

A dead-end, almost got k*lled.

Parker got a little farther,
no dice.

You got the farthest of all.

Still dead end.

Like punching a featherbed!

Or we're too close
to this whole thing.

We can't see the woods
for the trees.

Let Washington handle the overall
strategy, they have the case reports.

I'll teletype them the latest.

Gregg's right! This is no
ordinary g*ng of counterfeiter's.

They don't usually
go in for killings.

They're product has turned up
all over the country.

Notice anything funny
when you work through these?

Counterfeits are fair,
photo-engraved.

Paper's excellent.

Very good.

If we can just get a clean
sample for lab analysis.

Go on.

The g*ng's cagey.

They used some
of our own methods.

Surveillance, shadowing.

Check up on background
of any one working for them.

That's the general picture.

A tough, tight outfit.

Another thing, this L. A. crowd makes
both counterfeit money and revenue stamps.

Unusual.

Their phony liquor stamps
have turned up mainly in Detroit,

where the Vantucci mob
is using them.

- Oh, so they're back in business again?
- Yeah.

Oh, I begin to get it.

There must be some
tie-up between them.

This thing must be approached
through Detroit.

- You remember the Capone case.
- Who doesn't?

We att*cked through Brooklyn
to win in Chicago.

Same thing here.

Detour to Detroit to cr*ck
a Los Angeles setup.

It'll have to be a "rope-in" job.

All undercover.

Try to get a couple of agents
into the Vantucci mob in Detroit.

That's funny.

This will give the Vantucci's
a little borrowed time.

The Alcohol Tax Unit was going to
lower the boom on them next week.

But now we need Mr. Vantucci.

Let's find two agents with the
ability to pass as mobsters.

Possibly some knowledge
of Italian.

Men who've never worked
in Detroit or Los Angeles.

NARRATOR: Of the two agents
Carson picked,

the first was recalled
for the St. Louis office.

His file card read,
"Dennis O'Brien."

Born New York City.

Brought up near Italian
section, Mulberry Street.

Agent for nine years.

Broke the Mazaratti
and Stevens cases.

Undercover once for eight
months, again for three.

Unmarried.
Parents now living in Boston.

From the Indianapolis office,
came Carson's other choice.

Anthony Genaro.
Born San Francisco.

Education,
University of California.

Married Mary Bennett, 1947.

Speaks fluent Italian.

Agent for two years
since discharged from army.

And so you'll go
to Detroit cold.

Start at the bottom of the
ladder, work up step by step.

Pick up a fragment of fact
here and there.

Make your own
picture of things.

It'll be mostly up to you.

Understand there's nothing
compulsory about this assignment.

You can turn it down
without prejudice.

- Did you hear anybody
say anything? - Uh-uh.

Well, I don't stick
other men's necks out.

By the way, Genaro,
where's your wife?

She's visiting her mother
in San Francisco.

Mmm. Not so good.

I'll write her, Mr. Carson
and tell her...

No, don't do that.
Don't tell her where you are.

Any questions?
Anything not clear?

No sir, I guess not.

We'll contact through our
Detroit office. Good luck.

NARRATOR: In Detroit, at the
main library on Woodward Avenue,

Agents O'Brien and Genaro

started the first phase of
their undercover investigation.

Their problem was to
become Detroiters.

Detroiters of a special class.

Criminals.

With a complete knowledge
of a history of local crime.

This meant days and weeks
of tedious work,

of digging up
little known facts

which they must be
prepared to use.

Gathering background history
on local mobs,

past and present.

Laying a careful ground work
for their undercover identities,

picking out items
from old newspaper files,

weighing and sifting them,

making careful notes.

Memorizing those notes.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Say, you're liable
to get eyestrain.

I haven't been able to focus
on a steak for days.

What's new with you?

Oh.

Got a lot of notes
from police files.

- Dope I picked up in bars.
- Good.

You know, I've been reading over
these old news stories on the mobs,

right back to
the start of prohibition.

There used to be an outfit here
in Detroit called the River g*ng.

I ran across them
in the police files too.

They've all either been
wiped out or put in jail.

We might use them
for our pedigree.

It's taking a long chance, isn't
it? They may have friends around.

Yeah, yeah, I know.

We gotta risk it. We gotta give
ourselves some kind of a background.

NARRATOR: At last,
they were ready.

They met on Belle Isle
to quiz each other

for the most important
examination of their lives.

They had to know
all the answers.

Failure to do so would mean
a bad grave later on,

in the shape of a b*llet
or an icepick.

What do you know
about Carlo Vantucci?

Carlo Vantucci,
younger brother of Luigi.


Arrested 1939.

Concealed weapons. Dismissed.

Served year and a day 40-41.
State liquor violation.

The River g*ng.

Jerry Riley,
taken for a ride.

Bo McKenna, d*ed in prison.

Lou Perenti,
m*rder*d with icepicks.

Big Bill Schumack, huh...

Schumack, Schumack...

Went insane.

The Russian, k*lled in automobile
accident in New York City.

Not many of the
River g*ng left, huh?

Just us two.

It's a nice suit.

Hope the taxpayers
can afford it.

I know I couldn't
on my salary.

My wife would
like this outfit.

She's always trying
to get me to dress up.

Uh-uh-uh. Don't forget,
you're not married.

You've been divorced
for reasons of duty.

I hope uncle appreciates it.

What do we do
with our old stuff?

Let's send it back to Carson in
Washington. He'll get a kick out of it.

Okay.

By the way,
I don't believe I've met ya.

My name's Galvani.
Tony Galvani.

Well, it's nice
to know you, Galvani.

My name's Harrigan. Vannie, the
boys in my cellblock used to call me.

Mr. Galvani.

Mr. Harrigan.

NARRATOR: As their opening
wedge in a planned campaign,

Agents O'Brien and Genaro
picked the Forinzi Hotel.

A rundown hide out
for criminals.

The owner, Pasquale, was well
known to the Detroit Police

for his questionable
activities.

The agents were counting
heavily on their new identities,

on Tony's ability
to speak Italian.

[SPEAKING ITALIAN]

Jones?

Smith?
[CHUCKLES] No, not Smith.

I bought the name from a guy
down the street. He was broke.

I understand, signore.

[SPEAKING ITALIAN]

You have no suitcase,
so please...

Eight bucks.

Room 201.

Upstairs.

[SPEAKING ITALIAN]

Gimme the two bucks.

Oh, yeah.

NARRATOR: As Pasquale was
closing for the night,

a detective of the Detroit
Robbery Squad paid him a visit.

The detective was looking
for a pair of robbery suspects

named Vannie Harrigan
and Tony Galvani.

He showed Pasquale the official
Detroit Police Department wanted flyers

on the two men.

Pasquale recognized them
as his guests,

Jones and Smith.

And true to his
unsavory reputation,

Pasquale did not
give them away.

He was most polite
to the detective.

As an honest citizen,
he would like to help the law,

but he was sorry,
he had not seen the suspects.

Up in their room, the two
undercover agents waited.

They hoped
their plan would work.

They hoped Pasquale
would snap at the bait.

The local officer's
on the ball.

City detective just left
our friend downstairs.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

- Yeah?
- It's me, Pasquale.

- Come in.
- Senor Galvani...

What is this?

Where did you
dig up his name?

What you trying to pull? A
double shuffle or something?

Take it easy, will you?

Now what happened?
How did you get my name?

I come to tell you
quick as I could.

This captain of police,
he asked me if you come here.

I said, "No." He showed me official
paper with your name and pitch.

- And his name and pitch too!
- What'd you tell him?

Me? Pasquale? [CHUCKLES]

I tell him nothing at all.
The police, I no like.

Sometimes, Pasquale is in
trouble for selling wine.

The police, he don't forget.

So, Pasquale
don't forget either.

[SPEAKING ITALIAN]

You owe our good friend here
an apology.

A guy on the lam
can't be too careful.

Thanks for what you did.

Sorry I roughed you up.

Oh, that's all right.
This things I understand.

[SPEAKING ITALIAN]

Looks like
we're on first base.

NARRATOR:
Pasquale was sold on them.

The wanted notices, the natural
criminal manner of the two,

their new identities
had been tested and accepted.

Pasquale sent them
to see his friend, Vantucci,

who ran a produce warehouse as a blind
for his dealings in h*jacked liquor,

and counterfeit
Internal Revenue stamps.

The underworld can always use good
men with the proper recommendations.

As Tony would have said, "They
were trying to steal second base."

Now it was go through with it,
or go under.

Now there could be
no turning back.

Yeah, Pasquale told me
about you.

Gave you a good recommend.

You're "out-of-town" boys?

No, Mr. Vantucci.

You might call us
"in and out-of-town" boys.

Want jobs, eh?

Got some windows
that need washing!

Don't let us waste your time.

What kind of rap is out
against you?

What do you do
with all your money?

What has he got? Ulcers?

g*n beef, Mr. Vantucci.

Cops picked up two other guys.

I see.

Tony Galvani.

Vannie Harrigan.

Where did you get
a hold of those?

Came in a package of
breakfast food.

[LAUGHS]

Sit down.

I've been around this town
a long time.

I never heard
of you guys before.

Talk.

You've heard of us.
The River g*ng.

Oh.

Too bad about Lou Perenti.

Yeah.

Twenty one slugs in him.

No. Some guy's handy
with icepicks.

Who pulled it, I wonder.

We'd like to know too.

Sometimes, it's better
not to know too much.

What's your dodge?

Like always, anything. Phony
stamps, heisting trucks.

You know, anything to
make an honest dollar.

Well...

Maybe I can use you.

If you sawed me off and I gained about


Hmm. Might have known, they
belonged to "The Schemer."

NARRATOR: The Schemer? That
didn't mean anything to them.

Just a name
to be filed mentally.

That chiseling Schemer! He
shorted us again on the stamps!

Open up that
other box, Vannie.

That guy's really on the skids!

Well, The Schemer had some connection
with the counterfeit liquor stamps.

Fact two, he was in bad
with his crowd.

Fact three,

The Schemer was
on the West Coast.

He packed his stamps with a
copy of the Los Angeles Telegram.

Fact four...

See you.

They remembered Rudy's chance
remark about the coveralls

belonging to The Schemer.

A piece of physical evidence linked
with that mysterious character.

Something for the Treasury's Crime
Lab in Washington to investigate,

analyze,
draw conclusions from.

The dusty work clothes might
mean something or nothing.

But every angle,
however slight,

must be carefully checked.

C...

- C-A-O.
- That's it, Carson.

The only information we can get from
Washington is in the nickname files.

The Schemer is a man about 50.

Heavy head and gray hair.

No photo?

No. No fingerprints either.

Suspected shover
of counterfeit money.

Coveralls told you anything?

Plenty.

About 5'9".

Slightly stout.

I should say about a 180.

Lab analyzed the debris
in the pockets.

Schemer smokes strong cigars.

Chews Chinese health herbs.

Bay long lao.

For your benefit, Dragon Liver
Herb Preparation.

Thanks.

Anything else?

Receiving hospital here.

Said they gave treatment
for a Kn*fe wound.

Left shoulder.

Probably a scar.
It's the same fellow.

Fine, fine.

All I gotta do now is find a guy called
"The Schemer," who's about 50, fat,

smokes strong cigars, chews
Chinese Dragon Liver herb medicine

and has a scar
on his shoulder, maybe.

It's your assignment, son.

With these personal leads, Agent
O'Brien left at once for Los Angeles.

Meanwhile,
in Vantucci's warehouse...

Why didn't he show up?

I told you.

Where did he go?

I don't know.

Tell me again.

Why did he run out?

I told you.

He got a tip the heat
was on and he left town.

Heat for what?

That's his business.

This looks awful green,
Galvani.

Could be a fast double-cross.

Maybe if we knew
why he took your powder...

One thing I don't do is talk.

Not about another guy's pitch.

He's tied in with us now.
And so are you.

Remember Tiny Rocco?

He didn't pull that, did he?

- Vannie k*lled Rocco?
- I don't know.

All I know is,
he was in on it.

What do you think?

The cops tried to hang
that one on us.

Rocco sure had it coming.

I don't blame Harrigan.

I would've left town too.

You okay, kid.

You don't talk easy.

Still with us?

I'm still with you.

And so with
a hazy mental picture

of a vague character
called "The Schemer,"

Agent O'Brien
arrived in Los Angeles

to start the second major
phase of the investigation.

He began the hunt for the illusive
Schemer in Ferguson's Alley,

in a part of Old Chinatown, across
from the Los Angeles station.

In a city of over two million,

there are many men
around 5'9".

Many who smoke cigars.

Many who are slightly stout,

and probably a number who have
scars on the left shoulder,

if you ask them.

That one unusual habit,

that of chewing
Chinese health herbs.

Even that wouldn't be
easy to narrow down.

But it was unusual,

and it was
the best place to begin.

Interview after interview resulted
in "No." Or a shake of a head,

or a blank stare.

It was tedious,
disappointing work.

Digging, probing, questioning.

Painstaking sifting
and searching.

Until O'Brien began to wonder
if the trail were cold,

or too faint to follow.
But he kept at it.

Oh, yes.

I do vaguely remember
the person you describe.

I had him on
Di Long Lei La.

- Dragon Liver Recipe.
- Yeah, yeah. That sounds like him.

Have you seen him lately?

- Do you know where he lives?
- No.

I told him not to return.

He persisted taking too
many steam baths.

Of this I do not approve.

They debilitate.

Steam baths?

Thanks, thanks very much.

Only a trained investigator
would've attached any importance

to those two little words,
steam baths.

But they sent O'Brien off
on a new tack.

Perhaps this might
lead him to the Schemer.

Perhaps not.

But every scrap of information
must be checked.

Every tip investigated,

until it paid off
or petered out.

And to make
a long story short, sir,

looks like I finally
found "The Schemer".

Little boring from within
is in order.

Well, we're ready for you.

The counterfeit plates
and bills are here.

Oh, they're beauties.

They should be.
They're hand-engraved.

- Whose?
- August Baumann.

But we're safe enough. Baumann's
been in Atlanta for the past 10 years.

Mmm-hmm.

I better take one of those
counterfeit bills to get started with.

Don't worry. I won't let it
get into circulation.

Can't tell. Might come in
handy as a calling card.

- You never know.
- You better hang on to the plates though

until I see
if I really need them.

When you do land someplace,

Lindsay will be your contact man.

Fine.

- Nice to be on the case with you again, Lindsay.
- Same here, O'Brien.

Shall we get that Arizona sand
out of your hair?

Yeah, finally.

Well, I better get back
on the Schemer's tail.

I lost eight pounds
trying to find him.

Worry?

Did you ever spend 10 nights in
a Turkish bath looking for a man?

Well, don't. Bye.

Having found The Schemer,
Agent O'Brien became his shadow,

keeping his man under
constant surveillance,

discovering all he could
about The Schemer's activity.

Where he went, what he did,
with whom he associated.

This meant hours of tailing,

of keeping his man under
close observation,

of shadowing him without
arousing his suspicions.

Not easy with the suspect
as wise as The Schemer.

But there was no other way
to build a complete picture

of The Schemer's
personal life and habits,

except by keeping him
under surveillance.

And this O'Brien did.

Finally, one day The Schemer lead
his shadow to a hotel in Ocean Park.

Hiya, Jackson.

I was out at the races
today and a guy told me

I might get a little action
on my money here.

You don't say.

Yeah, win seven outta eight
and figured my luck's in.

Oh, made a k*lling, huh?

Who told you?

Uh... Guy with the name of Smitty.

Smitty?

- From Redondo?
- Redondo-Shamando.

How do I know where he is
from? I met him at the races.

Okay. That door.

Come on, eight!

- Eight!
- Seven! You're out!

Give me that dough over there.

Ten more he's right!

I'll take that bet!

Seven a winner!

Ten even he "fours".

I'll take that bet.

Wope, sold to the man
with the cigar!

Got a right to a hunch,
haven't I?

Seven!

Next sh**t!

Twenty he's wrong!

What's the matter?
Don't you like big bills?

Not particularly, I don't.

I'll change them for you.

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

MAN: Hey now, wait a minute. Hold
it, hold it, fellas. Wait a minute.

MAN2: What's the matter? MAN1:
Some guy's passing phony dough here.

MAN 2: Who? Who? MAN 1: The
big guy was just standing here.

MAN 2: What big guy?

[INDISTINCT CHATTERING]

Let's get him. Come on!

- Here he is.
- [GRUNTS]

Don't! Don't Moxie!
What's wrong?

What'd I do, Moxie?
No, no, Moxie, don't.

Maybe you've made a mistake.

- Maybe...
- Get off that floor.

Get off that floor
or I'll kick you...

Don't... Don't hit me.

Why you dirty fink,
I'm gonna take you apart.

I'm a sick man,
awfully sick!

You got me b*at up
and shook down in that game.

Now give me the dough
they took. Give it back!

[MUFFLED] Sure...
I'll give it to ya.

I told them
I had the beach territory.

- I don't like guys moving in.
- Free country, ain't it?

What do you mean "free country"?
Ain't you with our push?

With you? I wouldn't peddle that
junk of yours on a blind man!

Photo-engraved! Come on, come
on, you're 30 bucks short!

I'll get it.
I'll get it for you!

You should have taken
a better look at my bill.

Here.

Hey, now!
That's the real article!

- Hand-engraved!
- Yeah!

Pretty, ain't it?

Pardon me for saying, but, uh,
it's kind of poor paper.

Look at this!

Our new issue.

Mmm-hmm.

It's still photo-engraved,
but eh...

Where'd you get
a hold of this paper?

Beach some one dollar bills?

We got a source.

All we want.
And for peanuts.

Look, I'd like to get a hold
of some of this paper.

- Where can I get it?
- Would you mind laying off the muscle stuff?

- I'm more a man of ideas...
- Come on!

- Take it easy, take it easy!
- Come on, quit stalling.

What pusher you with?

- Working alone. I just blew in from Detroit.
- Got the plates?

Buy 'em at any dime store.

Okay, my friend, let's
work out the little scheme.

We got the good paper,
you got the good plates.

Slip me the bill and I'll
sh**t it to the higher-ups.

I do my own talking.

Uh-uh.
I gotta handle it.

Hey, you didn't
have to do that!

- Where do we meet?
- Oh, I don't know.

This looks like
a pretty good spot.

Say, maybe you can
get me a room here.

The joint I'm in shakes you down.

I think it can be finagled.

- Meet me here in an hour.
- Right.

By the way,
how did you find me?

I could smell ya.

[DOOR SLAMS]

NARRATOR: Agent O'Brien
continued the shadowing.

This was risky now because
The Schemer knew it.

Perhaps The Schemer was on his
way to carry out his promise.

Deliver the half bill
to a contact.

Perhaps it was a trap.

Maybe The Schemer
suspected O'Brien,

was trying to make him
overplay his hand.

The trail now led
to a nightspot in Ocean Park,

the Club Trinidad.

♪♪

- WOMAN: Hello.
- Hi.

- Like your picture taken?
- Had it taken once.

But, you know, a souvenir from
here to send to the folks back home.

- No folks, no home.
- [CHUCKLES] Oh.

You must have been hatched
from an egg!

Well, come to think of it, I could
send one to my cousin in Leavenworth.

- Joke, huh?
- Not to him, it isn't.

Hey, tell me, do you make a
good take sh**ting mugs like me?

- I get by.
- Yeah, you oughta.

What do you keep in here,
your money?

Do you or don't you
want your picture taken?

Well, I don't like my picture
taken usually, but uh...

Since you've got
such pretty... eyes...

Go ahead and sh**t.

It'll be a few minutes,
but you can pay me now.

That's no way to treat
Uncle Sam's money!

Wears it out.

I always was
kind of hard on it.

- Be back with the print later.
- Make it sooner than later, will you?

I tried to reach you last night!
Paul, I'm scared!

Why are you so nervous, Evie?
What's the matter?

Last night Schemer came in.

He gave me the high sign,
the folded bill.

And inside the folded bill
was this!

Hmm.

Excellent!

Very fine engraving.

The work of an artist.

Paper isn't any too good.

Where did The Schemer
get this?

I don't know. But after Schemer
left, there was another customer.

I took his picture and he gave
me a bill folded the same way!

No shover I ever saw before!

- Know him?
- Well, he's either a Treasury Agent or...

A T-Man!

PAUL: Or he works
for some rival outfit.

I keep these.

This man is a job
for our experts to look into.

- Want some more counterfeit?
- I guess so.

Not losing your nerve, Evie?

No. I just don't want
to slip up anywhere.

Good girl.

[STRUGGLING]

[GRUNTS]

Himmelmaucher's, Detroit.

Name's Horgan
or Hargan or...

Harrigan. Can't you read?

J. M. Jensen, Detroit.

You guys opening
a clothing store?

- What's your game?
- What's yours?

We'd like to know what you were trying
to pull down at the Club Trinidad.

- I don't follow you.
- No?

The little trick of folding
money a certain way.

Where'd you pick that up?

Where'd you get the lowdown
on the Trinidad?

Schemer tell ya?

I read it in a book!

- You don't know any Schemer, huh?
- [SIGHS]

I can't hear a thing
you're saying!

Can you hear any better now?

Okay, Schemer!

Never saw this guy
before, huh?

[PANTING]

I told 'em nothing.

SCHEMER: Why'd you tail me?

That's a T-Man trick,
tailin' a guy!

They got no patent on it!

Then why did you tail me?

After what you pulled
at the crap game, why not?

Let's take no chances
on him, Moxie!

I lived with a guy once for three
months and then he put the arm on me.

All the time he was a T-Man!

Check on me then.

Ask Detroit.

Talk to Vantucci.

Vantucci's crowd, huh?

Don't worry, we will!
b*at it, fat man!

- You didn't use to talk to me that way.
- Go on, go on. Dust!

See, you shouldn't
have tailed me.

Horizontal, wake this guy up in the
morning and put him to bed at night!

He goes nowhere
without you see!

Makes no phone calls, sees no
one, goes nowhere! Understand?

Okay.

I sleep on the bed.

Listen to this, Lindsay...

"Checked Club Trinidad
as outlet for showers.

"Girl photographer
involved somehow.

"Also check West Coast
Camera Center.

"Am staying at Ajax A. C.

"Spot Lindsay in there
with plates.

"Don't know where
I go from here."

Signed, "Mother Goose."

Okay, Lindsay.
You can go to work now!

- And be very careful with those plates.
- Yes, sir.

NARRATOR: Agent O'Brien was kept
under close guard by the mobsters.

Finally, one night
they took him

to an exclusive home
in Beverly Hills.

It might mean the next step up
the ladder for the undercover man.

Or it might...

Well, he would see.

Good evening, gentlemen.

- Nice Shanty. What's the deal?
- You'll see.

TRIANO: Come on in, gentlemen.

Take off your hat.

- This your man?
- Yeah, Shiv.

Mr. Triano,
meet Vannie Harrigan.

- Nice place you got here, Mr. Triano.
- Thank you.

Vantucci gave us
a report on you.

The report was...

Favorable.

Then I tape up okay
with you, huh?

Exactly what I'd say.

Hear that, Moxie?

I got a clean bill of health.

I just don't like to be
pushed around!

Moxie!

You forget... he's my guest.

Wait in your room.

Nice equipment.

Yes, I have everything!

Except skill.

What you need's
a couple of lessons.

Maybe.

What's your pitch,
Mr. Harrigan?

Nothin' to do with peanuts.

Go ahead.

I've got a set of top plates.

And you've got good paper.

Pardon me.

And a distributing setup.

I thought we might
get together.

We are happy the way we are.

A smart guy checks
every angle.

Are you trying to tell me
how to operate?

I wouldn't think of it.

Won't hurt to talk about it.

Have you got
the plates on you?

I've been around
a few corners myself.

- Are the plates handy?
- They're handy enough.

My buddy in Detroit has 'em.

He'll bring 'em around
when I give the word.

Suppose when I see them,
I say, "No dice".

Then I setup my own push.

In this town?

Moxie!

Here's your friend.

I'll think it over.
I'll let you know.

Person-to-person call.

Mr. Carlo Vantucci.

Cantania Produce Company
in Detroit.

[PHONE RINGING]

Hello?

Yes.

Oh, hello, Shiv!

How are things in Los Angeles?

Yes...

Well, Tony!

What is this your idea
of a double-cross?

Vantucci gave me a message,
I came on.

- These guys started...
- What message? I didn't send any.

Well, I got one.

These guys met me at the
airport, brought me here,

searched my luggage,
roughed me up.

What are you trying to pull?

I didn't send any message.

Shiv tried
to freeze me out, huh?

Well, I got news for you.
The deal is dead!

Come on, Tony.

It takes two
to call off a deal.

I tried a shortcut.

It didn't work.

Every trick you pull,
I'll double it.

You ought to be in charge
of the atom b*mb.

Paul Miller, Vannie Harrigan.

Paul is our technician.
He does the photo-engraving.

He passes on everything.

This yours?

Mmm-hmm.

As you know,
it's hand-engraved.

That's right,
done by an artist.

The Treasury Department
has a file on all engravers.

Mmm-hmm. Not on this one.

I know because I helped
sneak him into the country.

He's a Hungarian refugee.

I don't know if our paper
will take an intaglio plate...

Fine as the workmanship is.

Mmm.

Never thought of that.

I'll tell you what,
give me a scrap of your paper

and I'll make you up
a sample note.

- Give him some of our paper?
- No harm in that.

Can you have it done
by tomorrow night?

- If I get the paper right away.
- You will have it.

And then,
I want to see the plates!

Do you always get everything
you want?

One way or the other.

NARRATOR: Agents
O' Brien and Genaro

slipped part of the sample of the
counterfeiters paper to their contact man.

And Gregg sent it on to the Treasury's
Crime Laboratory in Washington.

By the time the technicians
there got through analyzing it,

they knew more about the paper
than the men who had made it.

The experts weighed it,
measured it,

checked its color and finish,

determined its resistance,
endurance fiber composition.

It's amazingly close
to official banknote paper.

Composition is 40% linen,


Long-staple Egyptian.

And 5% rice paper.

Rice paper?

The sizing is glue and water,
like ours.

The 3rd component, though, is a shrinking
agent used by Chinese paper makers.

That points definitely
to an oriental source.

That's a new wrinkle! Having
the paper made in China...

Not bad, either. After all, the Chinese
invented paper. Their top craftsmen.

What you fellows can find out
from a scrap of paper!

- It frightens me! Thanks, Hardy.
- Right.

To all Customs Service
Agency Supervisors...

Pacific Coast Districts.

Check incoming shipments
of paper from Orient...

Particularly from China.

Obtain data on Cantonese.

Obtain samples secretly
for lab analysis.

Carson.

NARRATOR: No longer were the two
undercover men kept under guard.

Vantucci had vouched for them.

Shiv and his crowd
had accepted them.

They were in,
up to a certain point.

Their careful work in Detroit
was certainly paying off now!

Hey!

So that's where you keep the carrots
you've been teasing them along with!

Ah-ha!

Baumann's little money makers!

- You're not going to deliver 'em both are you?
- No.

Just the back plate.

These boys don't fool around!

Once they get their hands
on both of these,

- we'd be dead pigeons!
- Yeah.

Who wants to end up
in a ditch somewhere?

This faceplate's
going to be our ace.

Got to hang onto this baby until
we're sure we're at the top!

Find their plant
and we're ready to raid.

- You think Shiv could
be the boss? - Uh-uh.

- I heard him taking orders
on the phone. - Mmm-hmm.

How'd you like The Schemer
for a roommate?

What... What a character!

You know, I've been
thinking something over.

Have you ever noticed what a large
load of worry The Schemer carries?

Yeah.

Yeah, well,
I discovered in Detroit

that he used to be high up
with Vantucci and slipped.

Same thing with
the crowd out here.

Yeah, well, a guy that used
to be high up and slipped...

And is scared, is a setup!

What do you say
we go to work on him?

Sounds like
a very practical idea.

Soon as I take care of
my business with Mr. Triano,

we'll both take
a cr*ck at him.

- Mr. Galvani.
- [CHUCKLES]

PAUL: What happened?
Only one side is printed.

- That's right.
- What is the idea of that?

You just want to see what the
plates will do to your paper.

One side is good as two.

I gave you enough paper
for four bills.

I ruined three of 'em trying to get
that one. Don't worry, I burnt them up.

Bet he never even gets
a traffic ticket.

Who wants to live dangerously?

Very good reproduction.

With our paper and these
hand-engraved plates, we're in!

You think it should be a deal?

Definitely!

Let me have the plates.

- Just one?
- This is only the back plate.

Yeah, I know.

You're friend here
tried to pull a fast one

and get those plates
from my buddy.

I'll come up with a faceplate when
I meet your boss and talk my deal.

How do you know
I'm not the boss?

You take too many orders
on the telephone.

What's wrong?

Oh, nothing.

What's the matter
with you two?

You don't seem like
such a bad guy, Schemer.

What makes you say that?

Oh, skip it, Vannie.
It's his business.

VANNIE: Yeah,
I guess you're right.

What did you two guys hear?

Tell me, will you?

Well, how did you get in
so wrong with the crowd?

What you mean?
What do you know?

Just what everybody knows.

Vantucci's crowd in Detroit.

- They were talking about you.
- Yeah, around here, too.

Moxie and them.

I feel sorry for ya.

Guys' gotta be awful careful
in our racket.

Yeah.

They've been giving me
the cold shoulder lately.

Give me the fish-eye,
kicking me around.

What's behind all this?

You oughta know.

Guys don't act like that
for no reason.

I... think I need
a steam bath.

[GASPS]

- We're cooking!
- Yeah.

- Don't you think you need one too?
- Yes, I guess I do.

- You?
- No, I gotta keep that date with Shiv.

- Oh, yeah, take it easy.
- I will.

Hope our friend Schemer doesn't have a
heart att*ck while he's in that steam room.

Gimme the lowdown
on straight, will you?

Come on, will ya?

I don't know when it's coming
to you or where.

But you lost the lottery, Schemer.

Maybe you know something. Okay,
that's no sign it's gonna work out.

I use this. Always have.

Comes in handy using this.

Don't worry about The Schemer.
I got an ace.

Not for nothing
they call me The Schemer.

Sure, maybe I'm

a little hot right now,
but I'll scheme out of it.

What about you and Vannie?

You think you'll get
a fair shake from this crowd?

When cows give beer you will!

They tried to cross you,
didn't they?

Okay.

I've been thinking
things over.

Let's pull up.

Set up our own push
somewhere else.

You gotta set of good plates!

Think it over, kid.

Listen, kid.

No one ever lost
trusting old Schemer!

I used to be on top.
Right up there.

Maybe I won't always
be on top, I says.

Sometimes, things go wrong.

So I, uh, wrote
a few things down.

About the top guy in town,
how he operates,

his take.

I, uh, got it written down
in a little book.

In code.

My code.

Could you ask
for a better ace?

Well then, you're fat!

Why don't you
pull a shakedown and blow?

No, I'm gonna phone this Mr. Big
and tell him to call off his wolves.

Then I blow.

Shake him down from
some other burg.

You better figure
that out carefully.

It's risky, phoning him.

Don't tell me
how to scheme, kid.

That's me specialty.

Look Chief, the boy have
been shoving me around.

Tell him to cut it, will ya?

What?

I'm warning you.

I got you over a barrel.

Anything happens to me...

Pound of grapes
and $9.50 in good money.

This farmer's market is a good
place to lose a shadow, too.

There's one, two, three,
four, five, ten.

- Thank you very much.
- Thank you.

Yes, sir?

You just took a counterfeit.

I did not.

I'm from the Secret Service.
The top $10 in the till.

I'll have to take that up.

But I'll be out $10!

You're already out $10.

If you people who handle money
would only look at it,

there wouldn't be
any counterfeiting.

- Great stuff.
- Yeah.

That little book you were
telling me about...

That's your ticket to life.

Don't I know it.

You ought to keep it
in an armored car.

I got it in a safe place.

Wrapped, sealed and checked.

- Like in a safety deposit box. That'll be...
- Never mind where it is!

Come on.

I can't hang around here
too much.

Tony, Tony Genaro?

Excuse me, ma'am, but you're
confusing me with someone else.

Why, I had no idea
you were in Los Angeles.

Why don't you tell us
these things?

Wait till I tell your wife.

She came down with me from
San Francisco for the day,

but she thinks
you're in Washington.

What are you
talking about lady?

Oh, Mr. Genaro,
you and your bad jokes.

Mary, Mary, here's Tony.

Look who I found.

Your husband.

Aren't you going to kiss him?

She must be out of her mind.

Genevieve, is the heat
too much for you down here?

Why, Mary...

Aren't you Tony Genaro,
her husband?

Lady ought to know.

My husband's taller
and much better looking.

Genevieve, there's the dearest
little gadget here that...

How do you like that?

Well, I never in all my life!

Mmm, very nice.

I'm sure the Chief
will okay it.

It may be a matter of
a few days though.

He got in this noon
aboard the liner, Mariposa.

Brought us
a shipment of paper.

Oh, trouble at customs huh?

No, came in as wrapping
for a lot of Chinese antiques.

It's aboard the Higgins
right now.

Customs was more interested
in the furniture.

Taking it apart for contraband
and so on.

Paul, let me take a look
at this Harrigan.

Well, don't tell me.

Miss Simpson,
meet Vannie Harrigan.

Don't tell you what,
Mr. Harrigan?

That you're the boss.

And why not?

Well if you are, after
seeing these fellas operate

you must also be
something of a lion tamer.

I hear you're a difficult man
to do business with.

Oh, I wouldn't say that,
Miss Simpson.

Depends on the nature
of the business.

The nature of the business is
business, Mr. Harrigan! Strictly!

I've been examining these.
They are excellent!

[PHONE RINGING]

Hello.

Well, good to hear
your voice again.

Yes...

Yes, I will.

It will be taken
care of immediately!

Now you see...
You're not the boss.

No, I'm not.

But you have to see me
to see the boss.

I'll let you know his decision
when we're ready.

Shiv...

[DOOR CLOSES]

About Schemer...

Get rid of him.

Hiya, Moxie.

Hot, ain't it?

I didn't know you took
these steam baths, Moxie.

I don't.

Anything happens to these
pipes, a guy could kick off.

Yeah. Huh?

Hey, I never thought of that.

Moxie, I'm glad you come,

I got to tell you about
this new guy, Tony.

Today at the farmer's market he bumped
into a dame, I think it was his wife.

Tony says he ain't married!

Don't! Listen, Moxie...

Tony even propositioned me!
A double-shuffle on the plates!

- Oh, he did, huh?
- Yeah.

Tried to ring me in
on the deal.

Imagine?

Moxie, we've been friends.

Moxie, when I was up I
used to help you. Remember?

Moxie, let's work out
a scheme.

[STEAM HISSING]

Moxie, Moxie!

Your pal Tony,
he's not married, is he?

I don't think so.

His business if he is?

He said he wasn't,
that's important.

Why should a guy
cover up on that?

I don't know, Shiv.

I know a lot of married guys
that don't admit it.

Schemer told Moxie, Tony plans
a double-shuffle on the plates.

[CHUCKLES]

Schemer was lying
through his teeth.

Schemer knew it was his time.
Why would he lie?

- Who is on Tony?
- Horizontal.

I just found out something.

Tony made a long-distance
to 'Frisco.

Asked if his wife
had returned.

Mrs. Mary Genaro.

Practically climbed
through the phone.

Schemer was not lying!

Genaro?

He calls himself Galvani.

Didn't you ever use
an alias, Shiv?

I can't wake up. I'm going down
the A. C. and take a workout.

Genaro? Mrs. Mary Genaro?

Blackie and the boys can do
a little checking for us.

You comin', Moxie?

You're being tailed.

I know.

O'Brien says
they are out to get you.

Shake this mug
and get out of town, fast.

Don't wait.

No safe deposit keys?

It's all there. Just what the boys
brought in from the steam room.

Wasn't there a small account
book, a ledger, a notebook?

No baggage or checkroom check?

Are you going to make
an identification?

No, somebody else
will have to do that.

Thanks a lot.

I see.

Thank you.

Thank you, Blackie.

What would you say
if I told you...

your friend is
a Treasury agent.

What are you getting at?

Blackie just told me
on the phone.

What are you doing here?

Tony, he just gave me the slip.

Did you check his room?

Why, he wouldn't be there!

Why you... he's a T-Man.

I'll take care of that
curly-haired monkey myself!

We'll all take care of him.

Busy little man, eh, snooper?

Almost had you.
All of you.

Tony.

And you, Vannie...

So smart.
Top-drawer crook.

Lived with me
and never caught on.

Top-drawer crook.

Always so sharp,
always knew all the angles!

[g*nsh*t]

[g*nsh*t]

You...

Sucker...

NARRATOR:
For this scrap of paper,

Agent Genaro had
sacrificed his life.

But O'Brien
had to carry on alone.

He left the claim check where his
contact man Lindsay would pick it up.

Mother Goose slipped a
package check into my locker.

That's what it bought.

It was checked
at the Hotel Wiltshire.

So this was what
Tony was after.

Looks like Greek.

I'll send this to Washington
right away.

Have you ever met Tony's wife?

No, I haven't.

Awful nice girl.

They'd only been
married a few months.

The Schemer's coded book,
for which Tony gave his life

turned out to be
a mine of information.

The code was a simple one.

A transference from
English to Greek letters

which decoded revealed
illegal activities and profits

in gambling and liquor,

racketeering,

and especially,
counterfeiting.

A record of
counterfeit sales, eh?

And most of these entries look like
a matter for the Intelligence unit.

Income tax evasion.

Has identification picked up
anything on Paul Miller yet?

No sir, not yet.

- Send that back to Gregg with your report.
- Yes, sir.

This book is going to give us one of the
biggest tax evasion cases since Capone!

It's not only a
counterfeiting case now.

It's something for
the Intelligence unit.

How's O'Brien coming?

He expects to meet the head of the
ring tonight with the faceplate.

We will have to be ready to
move in when he send us the word.

[RINGING]

Get word to O'Brien
right away!

Tell him to take the
faceplate and leave town!

Where do you think
you're going?

What's it to you?

Thanks, Brownie.

When I nail 'em,
they stay nailed!

Wonder what was
with that guy anyhow?

I don't know

[RAZOR WHIRRING]

Hey, good razor Vannie!
Thanks!

Hey, what are you doing?

Hmm?

That's my stuff in here.

Oh, so it is.

Sorry, I was looking
for something.

Hey how about
a piece of gum for me!

Sure.

What do you want, a
shave or somethin'?

What are you starin' at?

You've been doing that
the last couple a days!

You must have something
on your mind, Moxie.

[WATER FLOWING]

[WATER STOPS]

Hey, where you going?

I'll be back in a minute.
I wanna get some cigarettes.

You smoke too much.

The Chief is ready to see you.

- Have you got the faceplate?
- Yeah, I got it.

Look, I've been
thinking this over.

I don't go for
k*lling that T-Man.

I don't like this setup, and
I don't want any part of it!

What's the matter?
You getting the whim-whams?

Have you got the plate on you?

No, no I haven't.

You wanted a deal.
You're right on top of it.

Now you are begging out.
Why?

I just got through
telling you.

I don't like that k*lling.

We're crazy to try and
make a deal! We're all hot.

Are you going with us
or do we have to take you?

Okay, let's go.

NARRATOR: O'Brien had disappeared.
There was no report from him.

Now Gregg's only hope was that
Miller would make a move.

But would he move in time?

Well, did you
bring it this time?

Look, Miss Simpson, this is
the wrong time to make a deal.

I've been telling
these monkeys

that it's crazy for us
to stick our necks out.

You worry too much,
Mr. Harrigan.

Make a swell place to keep
the presses.

Nobody'd ever figure
to look on a ship.

Well, Miss Simpson,
is it a deal?

Take him!

You're lying!

The Chief thinks this is
the work of a known engraver,

whose name is on
the Treasury list.

He's crazy! It couldn't be. I helped
smuggle this guy into the country myself!

Nobody knows he's here.

Sorry, Mr. Harrigan,
but we never take chances.

- Miss Simpson!
- Yes?

Having no desire to have your
playmates here feed me to the fishes

I'd like to make a suggestion.

One of your own crowd
can clear this up.

Paul Miller, your technician.

He'd know in a minute if those
plates were okay or not.

- Why don't you call him?
- Wait.

- Don't' tail him too closely.
- Right.

[BELL TOLLING]

[BRAKES SCREECHING]

- Better cut back to Anaheim Blvd.
- Yes, sir.

Hand me the radio phone.

Operator, this is WJ61936.

Two emergency calls
in this order.

Captain of the Harbor
Division, Los Angeles Police,

and Lieutenant in charge
of the Customs Port patrol.

Hello, Diana.

Anything wrong?

Take a look at this, Paul. See
if you recognize the engraving.

Nobody's work I know.

It does have
a European flavor.

- I'd say it's okay.
- You're sure?

You know my long experience
in this field.

Well, I guess we were wrong.

Let's run a proof on this.

This way.

You're a Treasury agent.

I knew it the moment I saw
that plate. I recognized it!

The work of August Baumann.
I saw the mark on the seal.

Listen, I know
the game is over.

I turn government witness.
I expose everything.

I saved you from being k*lled
in there! I saved your life!

- Now, let's make a deal, yah?
- [g*nsh*t]

MAN OVER RADIO:
Car 101... Car 101...

Proceed to Pier 181. Investigate sound
of sh**ting aboard tanker Higgins.

Pier 181, step on it.
Give me the mic.

This is SS434, calling
all units on SS detail.

Proceed immediately
to Pier 181.

[g*nsh*t]

[g*nshots]

[GRUNTS]

Vannie! No!

Okay, take over.

Get an ambulance.

Now, the forces of the
Treasury struck hard and fast,

making simultaneous raids
on the Club Trinidad.

The West Coast Camera Center.

In Detroit, the Vantucci mob
was taken into custody.

In Shanghai, Chinese Police made
a sudden raid on a paper factory.

The mysterious leader of the ring
turned out to be Oscar Gaffney,

masquerading as a dealer
in rare antiques,

posing as a philanthropist
and civic leader.

He is now serving a long term in
a Federal penitentiary in Atlanta.

Agent O'Brien recovered from
serious wounds, and is again on duty.

And Mrs. Mary Genaro

carries in her heart the
memory of her husband, Tony

who d*ed in the service
of the people of this country.