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.
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 gang.
This was the first break in a long and baffling case.
Having informed the Los Angeles Police of the killing,
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 murdered 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 killed.
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 gang 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 gang'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 attacked through Brooklyn to win in Chicago.
Same thing here.
Detour to Detroit to crack 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.
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.
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 Gang.
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.
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 bullet or an icepick.
What do you know about Carlo Vantucci?
Carlo Vantucci, younger brother of Luigi.
41 years old. Arrested 1939.
Concealed weapons. Dismissed.
Served year and a day 40-41. State liquor violation.
The River Gang.
Jerry Riley, taken for a ride.
Bo McKenna, died in prison.
Lou Perenti, murdered with icepicks.
Big Bill Schumack, huh...
Schumack, Schumack...
Went insane.
The Russian, killed in automobile accident in New York City.
Not many of the River Gang 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.
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.
Jones?
Smith? No, not Smith.
I bought the name from a guy down the street. He was broke.
I understand, signore.
You have no suitcase, so please...
Eight bucks.
Room 201.
Upstairs.
Gimme the two bucks.
Oh, yeah.
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.
- 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?
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.
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.
Looks like we're on first base.
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 hijacked 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?
Gun 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.
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 Gang.
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 30 pounds, I might be able to use these.
Hmm. Might have known, they belonged to "The Schemer."
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 knife 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 killed 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 killing, 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 shooter!
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.
Hey now, wait a minute. Hold it, hold it, fellas. Wait a minute.
What's the matter? Some guy's passing phony dough here.
Who? Who? The big guy was just standing here.
What big guy?
Let's get him. Come on!
Here he is.
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 beat up and shook down in that game.
Now give me the dough they took. Give it back!
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 shoot 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.
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.
- 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. - 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 shooting 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 shoot.
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!
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.
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?
I can't hear a thing you're saying!
Can you hear any better now?
Okay, Schemer!
Never saw this guy before, huh?
I told 'em nothing.
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! Beat 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.
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.
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.
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 bomb.
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.
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, 45% cotton.
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.
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 crack at him.
Mr. Galvani.
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.
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.
- 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 attack 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!
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...
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.
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.
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!
You...
Sucker...
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.
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
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.
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 killing 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 killing.
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.
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.
- 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 killed in there! I saved your life!
Now, let's make a deal, yah?
Car 101... Car 101...
Proceed to Pier 181. Investigate sound of shooting 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.
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 died in the service of the people of this country.