04x16 - The Fraud

[bunniefuu]

[dramatic music]

Mr. District Attorney

this is Nicholas Allen.

I'm waiting outside my office.

It is 11:35

October the 23rd.

I'm waiting here to meet a man

who by threatening to k*ll my family

has already extorted over two hundred thousand dollars

from me in museum funds.

He has another painting to sell.

He's from the mafia.

Evidently there is only one way

to end this.

[music continues]

Well, Mr. Allen, how are you tonight?

Nauseous..

...but a little more stubborn.

Little more sales resistant?

If you want to call it that.

Well, I think you'd be putty in my hands

when you see what I have for you tonight.

It's a Jubere.

Again?

Can't you hire any new forgers? Just for variety?

Uh, shall we go inside or would you rather

look at it out here in the dark?

I really don't want to look at it at all.

But it ought to be warmer inside.

[music continues]

- After you. - Thank you.

[music continues]

'What's the matter?'

There's no one else here

if that's what you're worried about.

Can we just push this fuss along?

It's getting late.

I don't know why you call it a fuss

when you haven't seen the product.

Well then, extortion then, is that more accurate?

Uh, what is tonight's forgery going to cost me, by the way?

I thought you said you were going to try

to be more accurate.

Oh, is, uh, "cost" the wrong word?

No.

Forgery is.

- Well. - Where did you get this?

It was a lucky buy.

Oh, please. I know the collection it came from.

The owner would never sell.

Is it worth a hundred thousand to the gallery?

It's not worth a penny to any gallery.

It couldn't be displayed.

It could be crated then,

under a different title

for future display.

So, I'm to take it whether I like it or not

is that it?

Well, spit it out.

You weren't so shy the first time.

What's the new threat?

What's the mafia going to do to me if I say no?

Blind me?

b*mb my home?

[dramatic music]

What have you got in your pocket?

Nothing.

[tape rewinding]

[Allen on recorder] 'So, I'm to take it whether I like it or not'

'is that it?'

'Well, spit it out.'

'You weren't so shy the first time.'

'What's the new threat?'

'What's the mafia going to do to me if I say no?'

'Blind me?'

[g*nsh*t]

[Allen on recorder] 'b*mb my home?'

[siren blaring]

[theme music]

[male narrator] "The FBI."

A Quinn Martin production.

Starring Efrem Zimbalist Jr.

Also starring Philip Abbott..

...William Reynolds.

With guest stars

William Smithers..

...Nan Martin..

...Roger Perry..

...and special guest star

Hal Holbrook.

Tonight's episode, "The Fraud."

[theme music]

[male narrator] For nearly a month, FBI agents in Los Angeles

under the direction of Inspector Lewis Erskine

had been investigating rumors

that West Coast La Cosa Nostra Chieftain Frank Stocker

had moved into a lucrative new field.

The nationwide distribution

of fraudulent and stolen art.

Now, with the m*rder of Nicholas Allen

the scene of the investigation was suddenly to shift

fifteen hundred miles eastward.

Inspector Erskine, I'm Warren Sloan.

- Warren. - Hi, Warren.

Tom, how are you?

The SAC was called out of town.

He asked me to take over.

Said he contacted you in Los Angeles.

I don't know how much he was able to tell you over the phone.

Well, just that a stolen Jubere turned up

that the curator had been shot.

Yes, well, his name was Nicholas Allen.

He managed to hit the alarm button before he died.

But by the time the police got here

'k*ller was gone.'

'Jubere's been authenticated, by the way.'

The owner flew in from New York earlier this morning.

Did you happen to have the time of, uh, death, Warren?

Mm-hMm. Approximately 11:30 last night.

You know, it's a crazy guess but I wonder if, uh

I wonder if Stocker could be involved.

- I doubt it. Not at this level. - Frank Stocker?

He's been in Mexico.

Turned up again in Los Angeles this morning.

Question, where was our wandering boy

last night at 11:30?

Mexico or Texas?

Did Allen usually work this late at night?

No, sir, according to his secretary

he always left at six.

But she did say he got a phone call

about half past five, yesterday afternoon

and that it seemed to worry him.

He had her fill the coffee pot in the recreation room.

Said he might be back after dinner.

- Was this a personal call? - Mm-hmm. Business.

A sales agent from something called, uh

"Hubbell Incorporated."

Louisiana firm, purchasing agents.

The gallery bought three paintings from them

in August of this year, on Allen's recommendation.

Let's see what we can find out about this company.

And I'd like an appraisal of the three paintings

as soon as possible.

Alright.

- Any luck with latents? - Mm-hmm. Just smudges so far.

[Lewis] 'Painting of this value must have been wrapped in something.'

Yes, it was, and as a matter of fact

we found some paper in the waste basket.

It might've been wrapped in these.

- What's this, Warren? - That was a vase.

And the direction and impact of the b*llet indicate

that the k*ller was standing approximately at the door

when the g*n was fired.

It looks as though Allen threw the vase

and then jumped for the burglar alarm.

Seems to have hit his mark.

We found spots of blood on two of the pieces.

Well, I'll take these to Washington

along with the blood samples.

Call me as soon as you have the appraisal report.

Yes, sir.

[instrumental music]

I'm not gonna argue with you, Jock.

It worked once, didn't it?

I mean, you boys in New York thought we were all

big heroes out here, last August.

August was two months ago.

I wanna know what happened last night.

Jock, the guy had a tape recorder.

[Jock] 'Alright, you listen to me.'

'I'm on a limb up to here with you, you understand?'

The phone hasn't stopped ringing since the story hit the papers.

Gilbert called from Miami.

Paulie Hoff drove up from Philadelphia.

All singing the same tune.

"What's with that dumb protege of yours, Jock?"

Paulie never did like this art gimmick.

Paulie hasn't liked anything since prohibition was repealed.

He doesn't understand what you're doing, Frank.

Neither do I.

It's a new field. We made a mistake.

Now you gonna throw out the whole thing

because of one mistake?

This could gross us conservatively

fifteen million bucks a year, once we get rolling.

- 'Believe me.' - No. Wrap it up.

I'll make a deal with you.

I'll place the new forgeries

for a guaranteed minimum of a 100,000 bucks.

One penny less, I'll close the books.

The originals we'll hold back.

We can always dole out the originals.

I don't think Paulie would go for it.

Do you go for it?

Frank..

If you ball this up..

...if you jeopardize the position of the family..

...I might not be able to save you.

Jock, I'm not jeopardizing anything.

I've got somebody working on the Walden gallery

out here for six weeks.

The curator is a woman. She trusts this man.

He's already restoring some canvases for her.

She's all primed to take our stuff, Jock.

What man?

If it's the clown you sent to Houston, forget it.

No, no, no, no, no.

It's another man. You met him. Simes.

Simes..

The painter, the guy I grew up with.

The guy who did the good forgeries for us.

The loudmouth.

Oh, Frank..

You know enough bums to field a ball team.

Yeah, it's your greatest fault.

You don't know how to pick your friends.

One of 'em will hang you someday.

Is it a deal?

Yeah, we'll talk about it.

Paulie's asked for a sit-down anyway.

We'll have it out there.

Your place, tomorrow night.

Maybe you can sell him.

[intense music]

I ought to pitch you right out of that window.

Frank, I can't go back and undo it.

Now they wanna have a sit-down.

- When? - Tomorrow night, here.

Well, is, uh..

Is my name likely to be brought up?

Davey, why don't you take Ruthie and the kids

and go down to Ensenada for a couple of weeks?

'If Simes can't handle it, I'll call you back'

'but I think he should be able to handle this alone.'

Ensenada's a long way.

Well Jock's got a temper, but you know him.

With him, it's out of sight, out of mind.

Go to Ensenada, will you, Davey?

[telephone ringing]

Frank, I..

[music continues]

Yeah.

Christopher Simes? Yes, I know him. Why?

He's where?

Okay.

Now, what do you think of it?

Huh?

Come on, I want your honest opinion.

Look, you..

You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings.

Just let's have it, huh?

Now let's stop shilly-shallying around.

Come on.

Listen, you slack-jawed philistines

don't you know who you're dealing with?

My name is Christopher Simes

and I'm the greatest painter in the world!

Why, I should, I should paint murals

on the walls of every jailhouse in the country.

Hey, officer, listen.

I'm the greatest painter in the world.

[theme music]

We think it was wrapped around a canvas.

So any clear latents ought to be on the outside.

Probably along the folds.

Well, let's try silver nitrate.

- Hello, Lewis. - Hello, Arthur.

- When did you get in? - I just walked in.

- Any leads on the k*ller. - Nothing yet.

New York called about an hour ago.

Their informant reports that Jock Mitchell

just ordered a High Commission sit-down.

- When? - Tomorrow, in LA.

As far as he knows, there's only one item on the agenda.

- Houston? - Houston.

The word he gets is that Frank Stocker's

in very big trouble.

Which could mean they think that we could

link him to the m*rder.

Yeah, a m*rder or the Jubere theft or something.

I just wonder if Stocker is crazy enough

to try to handle this thing on his own.

[telephone ringing]

Latent Fingerprint section, Elkton.

Yes.

Thank you.

Inspector, that was Serology.

The blood sample you brought in is type-O.

What was Stocker's blood type?

A.

Well, we're right back where we started.

[intense music]

Well, maybe not quite that far back, Mr. Ward.

Did you find something?

Looks like we've got about eight readable prints.

Eight prints and a blood type.

Well, that could certainly give us enough to go on.

Lewis, I want everyone available on that fingerprint check.

Make it a special.

[music continues]

- Frank. - Get in.

You're aggravated with me.

Oh, you sensed that, did you?

Thank you, counselor.

No, uh, no problem, Mr. Stocker.

They picked him up in a bar on Main Street.

Drunk and disorderly.

Apparently, the big trouble didn't start

'till they brought him over here.'

What happened?

Well, as-as far as they can make out

he had some charcoal with him

and he, he drew a mural on the wall

and then just started shouting his head off.

Someday, Stocker, I'm gonna buy up

all the critics in the world and drown 'em

like cats in a creek.

I'll call you tomorrow.

Adios, amigo, I appreciate it.

I'll forge you a nice picture sometime.

[horn blaring]

Stocker!

If you'd find it in your heart to stay away from that horn

you'd have my undying gratitude.

My houseboy phoned the gallery

and the woman said that you had quit.

- That a fact? - Frank, that woman is--

Don't polish it up, and don't give me a big funny answer.

Is that a fact?

Yeah.

Alright.

I hope that you're sober enough to understand this

because I'm only going to go through it once.

The minute that you took the first dollar from me

for this job, you entered into a moral contract.

'And you're going to fulfill it, Simes'

or friend or no friend you're going to wish

that you'd never been born.

Is that clear?

Getting clearer.

- Alright, give me six months. - I'll give you nothing.

Frank...I'm into some kind of

a psychological upheaval here. I don't understand it--

Psychological upheavals

are for Beverly Hills matrons.

You just force yourself.

What is this woman's name?

Craig. Susan.

Do you think that she'll buy the forgeries now

if you force it?

I don't know.

You're supposed to be restoring some canvases for her.

What happened? You just walk out on 'em?

Just walked out.

Why?

I never work on my birthday.

It's not a gag.

I'm 40 today.

Many happy returns.

Very symmetrical number, 40.

Like 20. You know where I was on my 20th birthday?

Going through another psychological upheaval.

I was in Belgium.

I'd just won the first prize at the Brussels Art Fair.

Beautiful, big gold medal.

Oh, yeah? Whatever happened to it?

I pawned it, day I was 30.

[instrumental music]

Well, there she is.

Or there she was.

I told her I was out to the frozen north

to live with the Laplanders.

She'll mock me. Tsk.

Got a stubborn streak in her a yard wide.

You think she'll take you back?

Who knows?

Well, you better start praying, Christopher

because there isn't time to set up a new deal.

I promise you.

Ah, Susan.

Well..

I'm back, as you see.

How were the Laplanders?

Oh, I didn't..

I didn't actually get that far north.

I missed you.

I'd like my job back if it's still available.

It is.

Happy birthday, Christopher.

Welcome back.

How did you know this was the day?

I looked it up.

Well, what is it?

It's certain earth colors

you once told me you wanted.

It's not for the restoring work though.

For your own painting.

Thank you.

[music continues]

No, I'll wait.

[telephone ringing]

Tom, what have you got?

Yeah, Lew, we finally located those three canvases

that Nicholas Allen bought for the museum in August.

Oh? What's the problem?

Well, apparently Allen suspected that they were forgeries.

We found them in a basement buried in a file

for damaged canvases, not to be put on display.

The appraiser said that they were very good

'and that it would take an expert on Allen's level'

'to tell that they were frauds.'

It certainly sounds like extortion.

Yeah, as if Stocker signed his name to them.

He's used this MO a dozen times.

But I guess he's still the little man who wasn't there.

Can we tie him to the company that sold the paintings?

There is no company.

Hubbell Incorporated is a vacant office in New Orleans.

It was rented in May by a male Caucasian, aged 30-35

'who gave his name as Donald Morrissey.'

'He paid a year's rent in advance'

'and hasn't been seen since.'

Oh, uh, any mafia money in the building?

'According to the agent in charge in New Orleans, no.'

Alright, Tom, thanks for.. Oh, hold on a minute.

- What was the renter's name? - Uh, Donald Morrissey.

Our examination of the wrapping paper paid off.

Got a positive identification on the latent fingerprints.

"David Joseph Miles

'also known as Donald Morrissey."'

Is that, uh, New Orleans?

No, Los Angeles. 452, Trout Boulevard.

Call the SAC.

Have 'em ask the US attorney for a warrant

to see if they can pick him up.

- I'll meet you out there. - 'Yes, sir.'

[instrumental music]

That's what we call abstract expressionism, Paulie.

I'd hate to tell you what I call it.

Is that why you went to college, Frank?

Learn to call junk by a fancier name?

Alright, everybody is here.

We've got a lot of business on the agenda.

Now just cool it a minute. I asked your boy a question.

Well?

No, I went to college to try to learn how to make a buck

in the 20th century, Paul.

You make a buck in the 20th century the same way

you did in the 19th, the 18th, and the first.

You find a product that people want and can't have

and you sell it to 'em.

But that. Nobody wants that tripe.

[laughing]

I wouldn't give you five cents

for all the modern art in the world.

- People are different. - Wrong.

People are people.

[Stocker] Are you hooked on heroin, Paulie?

Hooked on heroin? Who's talking about drugs?

[Stocker] You sell it, don't you?

You don't understand the freaks that use it

but you sell it.

You provide it. Why?

Their money is good.

That's right, and so is my customers' money.

But you haven't got any customers.

That's what we're talking about.

You didn't tell him?

He's got a deal on the fire, two..

...servings of tripe.

$100,000.

What's the odd..

Six hundred bucks.

See, this is an art gallery

but we're not limited to art galleries.

I have a list of businesses, foundations.

I'm exploring the tax write-off angle

'for our own company.'

Other words, we donate a good forgery to a museum

we're into charitable deductions.

- Now wait a minute. - 'Paulie.'

Paulie, the gallery deal is in the works.

What'll it hurt to let it go through?

Well, how do we know whether we're hurt or not?

How do we know how bad Houston's hurt is?

There's no way in the world that Houston

can be tied into the family.

No way.

It was handled start to finish by one man.

He has no connection with the Brotherhood.

- He's not a member. - Who is this?

He's a friend of mine, named Dave Miles.

He could finger you if he got picked up for m*rder.

He wouldn't and he's not gonna get picked up.

Not alive he won't.

Hit him.

[dramatic music]

Okay, you're in business.

Just don't let me down, huh?

Hey, listen, about this Dave Mile--

As soon as possible.

Don't fool around with it. Paul's right.

Hey, Jock.

Frank..

So he's a friend.

You lose a battle, you win the w*r, right?

Where is he?

Ensenada.

I'll take care of it for you.

You did real fine. I was proud of you.

[theme music]

[instrumental music]

Yeah, that's Miles' wife, Ruth.

They've two children.

Boy, four, girl, six.

No sign of Miles at all, huh?

Well, we have his office on Wilshire under surveillance.

No word from informants yet.

[instrumental music]

George, what are you doing out here?

Are you mad?

You're our little baby pussycat.

What's the matter with you? Mmm.

She doesn't seem too upset

by her husband's disappearance, does she?

Mmm.

Which might mean that, uh, she knows he's still alive.

- Or thinks she knows it. - Yeah.

[music continues]

Well, what do you think? Is it worth restoring?

It's not bad.

If all you're interested in is..

...craftsmanship and color..

...composition, feeling.

So you approve of this one?

Oh, yeah.

Matter of fact, I approve of most of your purchases.

You have a good deal of taste for a woman.

Thank you. I think.

[chuckles] It's a..

Well, I didn't mean to break in on your work--

No, no, it's a pleasure, please.

Uh, uh, sit down, can't you?

- We never get a chance to talk. - Alright.

A minute.

I think this is the very nicest time of the day.

It's cool, quiet, the public hasn't come in yet.

Yeah.

[sighs]

You know, the Waldens have some exceptional things here.

- Did you buy them all? - Yes.

No board of governance to check on your purchases?

Oh, there's a board, but they never interfere.

I'm very lucky.

Or very trust worthy.

I, uh, envy you.

I am neither.

No, but you're something else.

Irresponsible?

Talented.

[laughing]

You're a very kind young lady.

You're not very perceptive, but you're very kind.

Your restorer thanks you.

Christopher, why did you get drunk on your birthday

and run off that way?

Irresponsibility.

Not fear?

You know, I-I've never thought of myself as a prying woman.

But then, of course, I've never been around

a very great artist before.

[scoffs]

Come on.

Remember showing me that canvas you started

when you first came here?

Yes, I remember. Certainly.

Well, I watched it take shape back here.

And you finished that painting on your birthday, didn't you?

Yes.

What do you think of it?

I think it's worthless.

But I think it's the crudest

most powerful, most volcanic

most extraordinary work of art I've ever seen in my life.

[chuckles]

Furthermore, I don't think for one minute

you were running away from a failure.

Success, that's what you were scared of.

'Success might just mean the end'

'of irresponsibility, mightn't it?'

Might mean..

...work, pain, integrity, growth.

[exhales]

Where you off to, Christopher? Another bar?

[laughing]

In a way.

You remember those two Juberes I told you about?

Yes.

Well, I've had them for 20 years.

I wanna sell them now.

Well.

Let's see them.

Wow.

How much?

$75,000 for the large one $25,000 for the smaller.

Well, let me keep them a few days.

I'll have to have an answer at the end of the week.

I'm leaving then.

Christopher.

The man who painted these was a genius.

And you're even better than he was.

Remember that.

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

[Tom] Ms. Miles.

I'm with the FBI.

I'd like to talk to you for a minute, please.

If I may? My name is Colby, this is Inspector Erskine.

I don't have a minute. I'm sorry.

When did you hear from your husband last, Mrs. Miles?

[engine spluttering]

Are your children with him now?

Am I under arrest?

No. you're not.

Well then, if you wanna find out anything about Dave

talk to his lawyer.

[music continues]

Is he dead?

An informant says the high commission

just ordered him put out of the way.

Inspector.

Why did you ask that about my children?

There's a contract out to k*ll your husband.

Whoever made it seems to be under the impression

his family's with him.

I don't believe one word of that.

The man who was hired for the job is headed for Mexico.

Both my children have colds.

They are both in the house, in bed.

Tell us where your husband is, Mrs. Miles.

Why?

So you can arrest him on whatever trumped up charges

you think you have?

So we can notify the Mexican police at least.

I'm sorry.

I still don't know what you're talking about.

[music continues]

[dramatic music]

[g*nshots]

[music continues]

[g*nf*re]

[intense music]

[music continues]

[instrumental music]

[speaking in foreign language]

"John Burns."

[speaking foreign language]

Es un miembro de La Cosa Nostra.

Momento, capitan.

Ensenada Police.

They've identified one of the dead men as John Burns.

- No sign of Miles. - Well, maybe Miles escaped.

His wife is outside.

Muchas gracias por su ayuda, capitan. Adios.

Show her in.

Come in, please.

Won't you sit down, Mrs. Miles?

Well, will you help us?

You've heard from your husband?

Yes, he called me.

He's back in this country.

'He warned me not to tell anyone'

where he was going but the more I thought about it

the more frightened I became.

If they found him once, they can find him again.

- Can't they? - Yes, they can.

We know a couple who have a beach house

'south of San Clemente.'

There's no one there now.

That's where he's gone. Here's the map.

Thank you.

Inspector.

Who sent those men to k*ll him?

You probably know that better than I do, Mrs. Miles.

Frank Stocker is his best friend.

[instrumental music]

[theme music]

We're closing now..

Well, I guess it's alright if you like masterpieces.

Maybe you don't think this one's a masterpiece.

Yes, I do.

Have you started a new canvas yet, Christopher?

No.

Why not?

By the way, I've fallen in love

with those two Juberes you showed me.

The price may be a little high--

Then don't pay it.

I didn't mean I wouldn't pay.

Alright, then do what you want

but stop bothering me about it, will you? Will you?

[phone rings]

- Yeah. - Stocker? Simes.

I've got just two things to say to you.

First, I'm sober. Second, I quit.

What do you mean, you quit? Where are you?

At the gallery. I'm gonna burn the forgeries.

I'll send you back the $600.

Listen, Simes..

I'd give you an explanation if I could, but I can't.

Except that suddenly, Frank, I'm bone-tired

of being a 40-year-old teenager.

I'll mail you a postcard from Lapland.

What happened?

- What happened? - Oh, who knows?

- He says he quit. - Where is he?

- At the gallery. - Have him picked up.

- Oh, Jock-- - Pick him up! It's over.

Frank, it's finished!

[intense music]

[music continues]

- Are you in position? - Yeah, we're ready.

Wait here.

[music continues]

[Lewis on megaphone] David Miles, this is the FBI.

Come out of the house. We have a warrant for your arrest.

[g*nshots]

[music continues]

[Lewis on megaphone] Miles, the only thing you're buying

is time for the men who sent Burns to k*ll you.

If you don't help us find them

in fact, it'll be your family next.

Both your children and your wife.

[music continues]

Use your head, Miles.

Stocker thought you were in Mexico together.

Burns went down there to k*ll all of you.

Lew!

Drop the g*n. Throw it down.

[Tom] Hands against the wall.

Spread your legs apart.

You have the right to remain silent, Miles.

The right to a counsel.

You want Stocker? You've got him.

Who did the Houston art forgeries?

Some artist in Amsterdam. He's dead.

Stocker's got a new man now. His name's Christopher Simes.

You can find him at the Walden Gallery.

Call Durant.

Alright.

[intense music]

No, I don't understand.

They're forgeries. Can you understand that?

Fraud. I'm a fraud.

Chris, you're just making up an..

They're not forgeries!

- Come on! Give them to me. - Let me have them!

You're just making up an excuse for leaving.

You're mad at me because you know I love you.

Love?

Why, you do not.

- That's out of the question. - Why is it out of the question?

Yes, I do.

You do?

Yes.

But you're crazier than I am.

Maybe that's a recommendation, I don't know.

Well..

[chuckles]

Doesn't make any sense but I'll accept it for now.

Then you won't leave?

[sighs]

It's too much of a tangle to explain in five minutes.

I have to...see the FBI

but I'll-I'll-I'll call you from there

and, uh, I'll be back if I can.

[dramatic music]

You'll wait. Okay?

[lock clicking]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[grunts]

[groaning]

[music continues]

[g*nsh*t]

[theme music]

We pulled four jobs over the past year.

All the paintings are in Stocker's possession

as far as I know.

Except for the Jubere which I left in Houston.

Did you have dealings with other museums?

No. The Walden was due next, but that's Simes' territory.

Alright, Mr. Miles, I think that'll do it for now.

Unless you have something else you'd like to add.

- Will you be talking to Frank? - Yes.

Alright, then you tell him something.

You remind him I always told him

Johnny Burns wasn't worth the powder to blow him up.

If I'd been sent on a hit, I wouldn't have missed.

Now you tell him that.

[instrumental music]

Simes.

Hello.

- Sit down, Mr. Simes. - Thank you.

This will inform you of your rights.

[male narrator] David Joseph Miles was convicted in state court

of the m*rder of Nicholas Allen

and sentenced to life imprisonment.

Frank William Stocker and six others were convicted

of inter-state transportation of stolen property.

State charges against Christopher Simes

of conspiracy to commit fraud

were dropped on the plea

of the intended victim, Ms. Susan Crane.

[theme music]

[music continues]