02x04 - Counterfeit Dixie

[bunniefuu]

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a bold, adventurin' man ♪

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ Battled for right with a powerful hand ♪

♪ His blade was tempered and so was he ♪

♪ Indestructible steel was he

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a fighter, a fearless and mighty adventurin' man ♪

- Bag of Mobile notes any good to you?

- 9% discount. - Oh.

Well, $1,100. - $1,001.

- 1,001, huh?

Well give me the thousand and buy yourself a cigar.

[speaking in foreign language]

- I have no large bills left.

I'll have to give you Dixies.

- A hundred 10s makes a thousand.

Much obliged.

- Ha! [eerie choral music]

[grunting]

- Police, police, police!

Police, police!

[yawns]

- [laughs] Ah, Jim.

'Tis a beautiful morning.

Still no greeting to your old friends?

- Not a word he will speak,

not even an angry one.

And we have done nothing! - You call it nothing, huh?

Jumping me?

Ruining my clothes?

Getting me a night in the calaboose?

Nothing!

- Jumping him, he says.

All just harsh words, Jim.

We explained how we just happened to stumble onto you.

- Oh sure, sure.

Just stumbled on me with masks on!

- Oh, little handkerchiefs over our noses.

The night air is full of the favor.

- [laughs] Isn't that funny?

Every time we meet, we end in the calaboose.

- Very funny, very funny.

- What, what, what?

Oh, Jimmy, [speaking in foreign language].

[chuckles] You remember the last we were in jail together?

You got us out too. - That was the last time.

- Oh, now Jim.

You're not gonna desert us.

We're friends of your bosom.

- Well this time for all of me,

you two can stay here till you stumble

over your long, white beards. - Oh, Jimmy! [groaning]

- Your possessions, Monsieur Bowie.

- Yeah.

- I fail to understand why a man

of your position would brawl

with a pickpocket and a horse thief.

- Lamont's an ex-pickpocket

and Donovan's an ex-horse thief,

and whom I brawl is my own business.

Now about the damage to the vegetable cart, I'll pay for it.

You can take it out of-- - No.

We will keep these notes.

They are counterfeit.

- Who says they're counterfeit?

- Compare.

The paper is inferior,

the engraving is imperfect, the signature is forged.

- Well, I'd have thought it was the job

of the police to keep bad money out of circulation.

- You think we have not tried?

The whole economy of Louisiana is threatened!

I myself may have to retire.

- Well, if after seven months you haven't

been able to find one counterfeiter,

maybe you and your detectives ought to resign.

Now, wait a minute.

Yeah.

I'll find my own detective.

How much to bail out Donovan and Lamont?

- Donovan and Lamont, detectives?

Ha!

- Well, they know more about the underworld

than your whole department.

How much to bail 'em out? - $50.

But you are wasting your time. - Oh no, I'm not.

I have a feeling that by nightfall

we'll know more than you do.

[eerie choral music]

- Aw, Jim, lad.

This counterfeiter could be a hobgoblin

for all anyone knows.

He's never had an eye laid on him.

- Well, how does he get the money in circulation?

- Ah, that's how he's smart.

Somehow he gets the false Dixies to distributors

who sell 'em to pawn brokers and tavern keepers,

and little people with dishonest traits

who pass 'em off as real. - That's a lot of people.

- Monsieur, attend carefully to your good friend, Pierre.

I have found the money broker. - Good man!

- But first, I must tell you that to get this information,

I have to spend two hour, two hour, with the ugliest woman!

- Nevermind all that.

What's his name and where do I find him?

- His name is Verant,

and in exactly one half hour,

he will be standing at the Levee Street wheat dock

waiting for a distributor to buy more bad money

with the good money of our friend here.

- Pierre, I appreciate the sacrifice,

two hours with the ugliest of women.

[Lamont laughs]

All we have to do is find Verant,

and if he'll lead us to one of his distributors,

then he leads us to the counterfeiter.

Why boys, you'll be the two biggest heroes in New Orleans!

Let's go! [laughing and cheering]

[clattering]

- This crook not only robs, he steals.

- Yeah.

And he knew what he wanted to steal too,

and just where it was. - What was it?

- I don't know.

It was some kind of a box.

- [Woman] I'll call the police!

I'll call the police!

- No noise.

Come on.

[thuds]

[thuds]

[thuds]

- Now, Verant.

- [Jim] We sure walked into that one.

- Oh, but we walked out.

Verant in there did not have that good fortune.

- Well, I'm still out my thousand.

- Aw, Jim, it's not good for our health

to be caught here with this man.

- Wait a minute.

So this is what was in that case, dueling pistols.

- Geez, what?

- The box that he stole from the pawn shop,

now where is it?

And the mate to this must be around here somewhere.

- Oh, Jimmy, come on.

This is not about the stolen things.

[speaking in foreign language]

- All right, let's go back and I'll get help.

The maker's name is Lazarino Cominazzo, 1660.

Man, this is valuable.

It's a collector's item.

- Then why was it left behind, Jim?

- Well, maybe whoever k*lled him

didn't look at that box.

- Oh, perhaps there was only one p*stol in the box.

- I don't know.

These dueling pistols always come in pairs.

- Ah, what does a pickpocket know of affairs of honor?

- I suppose you have dueled with other horse thieves, yes?

- That's enough, that's enough.

What I can't see is the connection

between the dueling pistols and the counterfeiters.

What would they want with it?

- Maybe they k*lled Verant for the pistols.

- Well, I doubt it.

I think they figured we were police following Verant.

Maybe even brought by Verant.

- Ah, who knows how a thief figures.

- It's very curious.

Very curious.

You know, I think tomorrow morning

we're just gonna have a little talk with that pawn broker.

[eerie choral music]

- Bonjour, Monsieur. - Oh, good day, ma'am.

- You come to buy or to sell? - To buy.

That is, if you have any dueling pistols.

- Oh, [speaking in foreign language], monsieur.

You come one day too late. - Oh?

- I had a beautiful pair, very old Italian.

Very valuable.

But last night, some name of a pig

broke the store and stole them, case and all.

Tell me, monsieur.

What is the reason for this demand for old pistols?

For seven months now,

strangers have asked me for old pistols.

- For seven months?

Now, these pistols have been in demand

for the past seven months, you say?

- Oui, monsieur.

- Well, now that's very funny,

because just when the counterfeiting started.

- Ha!

You are the police? - No, ma'am.

I just got stuck with some false Dixies myself.

- Oh, dear.

One can trust no one these days.

No one.

Monsieur, you are interested in the watch?

- Uh. [chuckles]

- Well, thank you very much, Madame Benoit.

I'll stop back in soon.

- [speaking in foreign language], monsieur.

- Did you hear that?

- I had my hands full keeping Pierre's empty.

- I heard everything.

You are saying that this is the counterfeiter,

the head man himself, who is collecting the stolen p*stol.

- I bet a stack of real Dixies on it.

And if we're smart, we can get 'em right in our hands.

- But Jim, how we do this?

- Now, assuming he has the Cominazzo p*stol from Verant...

- And we have the other. - Exactly.

Now, any collector worthy of the name

would pawn his wife and children to get the other one.

- Exactly. - Exactly!

- Now, I have a newspaper friend

who will help us bait the hook.

Come on.

- Le Boeuf. - Mr. Biretti.

- Listen to this advertisement in today's column.

Two gentleman from Ireland returning

to Dublin from Peru with a valuable arms collection

offer a substantial reward

for the return of an Italian, flintlock dueling p*stol

stolen from their goods

on the Levee Street wheat dock last night.

[metal clanging]

Remarkable!

Perfect.

Lazarino Cominazzo of Brescia.

How did you come by this?

- A man named Verant, one of our outlets, brought it to us.

But we had to dispose of him. - k*ll him?

- He was mixed up with informers.

- Ah.

He'd hardly have stolen only one p*stol.

- Well, there were probably two in the case,

and one fell out during the argument, monsieur.

No doubt the police found it

and took it back to its owner.

- Fool!

I could have had the pair.

I have nothing half so fine.

Such workmanship!

Grand Dukes must have used it.

Casanova could have shot it.

I must have the mate.

[metal clanging]

- All right, now will you come away from that mirror?

And try to remember the roles that you're playing.

- I still feel that it is a mistake.

I should have been the gentleman,

and this lazy ruffian the valet.

- Ha, you couldn't fill out the clothes, man.

[knocking]

- Pierre, the door.

And remember what I told you.

- I'm Carlo Biretti.

I came in answer to your advertisement.

- [Donovan] Permit the monsieur to enter, please.

- Monsieur. - How do you do, sir?

My name is James O'Leary,

and this is my good friend Pat Donovan.

- As a collector myself, I was grieved at your loss.

- Oh, nevermind the grief.

Did you bring the p*stol?

- [laughs] Will you sit down, Mr. Biretti, sir?

Please. - As I way saying,

of course my collection is a modest one,

but I know how you must feel

losing a priceless flintlock such as you described.

- Oh, the flintlock.

That's just one of many of our g*ns.

- Ah, but the very best.

We also have matchlocks, wheellocks, snaphaunces.

Will you be having a little whiskey, Mr. Biretti?

- Oh, thank you.

Perhaps I might be able to help you more, monsieur,

if I could see your remaining weapon.

- Oh, very glad I'd be to show it to you, sir,

but as a matter of fact it's in the warehouse

at the minute with the others. - I see.

No doubt it carries the maker's name, Mr. Donovan.

- The maker?

- The maker's name is Lazarino Cominazzo, sir.

- To be sure.

[speaking in foreign language]

- No one has ever done more perfect work than Cominazzo.

Imagine his ingenuity.

After others had labored for centuries,

it was he who found a way to get

the flash of flame from outside of the weapon

to the charge of powder within it.

- Is that a fact?

- It's not an easy thing to do

without blowing your head off.

- Gentlemen, I'm willing to buy your remaining p*stol.

Of course, we can agree upon the price.

- Oh, but come on.

One g*n in a pair is no good.

- Normally not, but if I have one,

the thief may bring me the other.

- Ah, but might he not also bring it to us?

- True, but you are leaving New Orleans,

are you not, monsieur?

Whereas I live here. - He has a point there, Pat.

He has a point there.

I'll tell you what I'll do, sir.

If we don't get the other one by this evening,

we'll bring ours to your house tonight, if you like.

- Delighted.

And I should like you to see my collection.

- Delighted. - Oh, we'd be delighted.

- 920 Earthlean Street.

Shall we say at eight? - Eight.

- Eight o'clock on the dot, man.

Uh, I mean monsieur.

- [chuckles] Well, Pierre, show Mr. Biretti to the door.

- Monsieur.

- He has the other p*stol already.

I'm sure of it!

He's our man.

- Now what? - We wait till it's night.

And that's enough of that.

And you can start getting out of those rented clothes.

[knocking]

- I'll admit him.

Tell Le Boeuf to stop the press.

[door creaks]

[door rattling]

[footsteps thudding]

- Ha, [speaking in foreign language]!

[shushes]

[whistles]

[shushes]

- That's a neat contraption.

Can't you just see the millions

of nice little Dixies come flipping out of it?

- With that, a man can go anywhere.

Need money?

Stamp, stamp, stamp!

- Ah, just a shame to put such temptation in a man's way.

- The most celebrated of gunmakers, Jean Leclair of Paris,

Mariusz Linke, Prague, Gaspar Culiner, Vienna.

- Ah, it is indeed a stupendous collection

you have here, Monsieur Biretti.

- But none so choice as this. - Why that's our p*stol?

- Is it?

- I have the mate right here.

- One of us then must sell

and one of us must buy, Mr. O'Leary.

What is your price?

- I'll take $1,000 in gold coin,

and a million in counterfeit Dixies, Mr. Biretti.

- The price is too high, O'Leary,

especially since my g*n is loaded.

- Mine is loaded too.

So what is your pleasure, sir?

I don't suppose these pistols

have been fired in over a century.

I tested mine.

It shoots quite straight.

Did you test yours?

- Monsieur Biretti, Monsieur Biretti!

The press!

Two men!

[man thuds]

- Ah, then it wasn't loaded.

- But this is.

- Will you be putting those back?

I mean, put 'em back!

Come on, you two will be thieves till the day you die.

- Do you not want evidence against the counterfeiters?

- Empty your pockets.

Come on.

- Jimmy, but we found the money machine!

- Come on, hurry up.

We gotta get out of here!

Oh, here he comes.

Hold the door, Pat.

- Oh, it's locked!

[clattering]

- Now, O'Leary.

These pistols are not antiques, and they're well-tested.

[g*n fires]

[g*n fires]

You see, my Hibernian friend, I'm also an inventor.

Those g*ns cover the entire room.

[g*ns firing]

[grunting]

- What?

Never do I think the day

when I will see you steal, Jimmy.

- Well, he owes me a thousand at least.

Now, you two go and get the police.

- The police? - Us?

- Yes, you!

Go on.

- Why did you not send for me sooner

so that we could do the job properly?

You and your thieving friends!

Amateurs, dilettantes, bunglers!

- Well, that's the thanks I get

for saving the economy of Louisiana,

and your job, Captain.

Biretti confessed, didn't he?

What more do you want?

- I want the engraved plates from which the money was made.

- The plates? - Yes!

So that they cannot start this counterfeiting

here again or in Natchez, or in a dozen other places.

- You mean the plates weren't at Biretti's?

- We searched it 10 times. - Well, dog my cats.

Captain, if you'll sit down right here,

I think I might just know where to find 'em.

- Too much. - He's still in there,

and you're still looking in the mirror.

I think you better be getting along.

- Oh, about the clothes.

We'd like to keep them.

- Jim, we know that your heart is filled with gratitude.

- It is, huh?

- Well, you have $1,000 back in your pocket.

- Well, I'll tell you what.

You keep the clothes and I'll keep the plates.

- The plates?

- The plates that made the counterfeit Dixies.

Now, come on.

- This is the final insult.

Come, Pierre.

Goodbye, Bowie. - Me?

I will not even say goodbye to this inbred.

Ha!

- Ooh, you're both carrying one, huh?

- [Both] Do you think I'd trust him with both?

[Jim laughs]

- Now, help yourselves, boys. - Hey! [laughs]

- So it was that the Dixies regained their value

as the soundest money in the South.

In time, the Americans were even calling New Orleans Dixie.

And in 1859, when Dan Emmett put the title

Dixie on a minstrel song,

it came to mean the whole land of cotton,

way down south in Dixie.

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a fighter, a fearless and mighty adventurin' man ♪