Ace detective Dick Tracy pored over the crime files and mug shots that littered the desk in his dimly lit office down at police headquarters. "This crime wave has to be the work of Big Boy Caprice," he thought to himself. "I can smell his greasy handiwork behind each of these cases. But, I need to get some hard evidence on him. If only I can nab some of his hoods - Itchy, Flattop, and the rest. I'd rearrange their thinking and have them singing like that nightclub temptress, Breathless Mahoney. Then I could put Caprice behind bars for good." Suddenly Tracy's two-way wrist radio seized the detective's attention. "Calling Dick Tracy, Calling Dick Tracy." He sprang to his feet and burst into the squad room shouting, "O.K., boys, let's go. This could be our big break!"