Boardwalk Empire (2010–2014): Season 1, Episode 1 - Boardwalk Empire - full transcript

Come on, let's go, let's go. I'm a sitting duck out here.

So move then. Come on.

Charlie.

Load it up.

Let's go, let's go!

Come on.

- Liquid gold, boyo.
- That's it.

Come on, are we fucking done here?

Boys, we're straight through to New York, so anyone needs a piss, you take it now.

No? Then let's go.

Son of a bitch.



Hold up.

Slow down.

He's still breathing.

Fuck him. Get him off the road.

Get 'em up! Up!

- Get your fucking hands in the air.
- Drop the heaters.

You stupid fuck.

Drop it, I said!

You, too, fat boy. Drop it!

Drop your weapon.

You know whose fucking load this is?

It's pretty fucking obvious now, ain't it?

"Coward, monster, vicious brute

"Friend to thief and prostitute



"Conscience dulled by demon rum

"Liquor, thy name's delirium"

Tomorrow we awaken to a new dawn.

And on the eve of this momentous occasion,

it is my pleasure to introduce Atlantic City's esteemed treasurer,

the honorable Enoch Thompson.

Mrs. McGarry, thank you for that stirring poem.

Will you send me a copy?

What a nice man.

Ladies.

Years ago, there was a young boy who lived in this very city.

The winter of '88, some of you remember, a blizzard of biblical proportions.

The family was snowbound, freezing, without food or heat.

The father vanished, laid to waste by alcohol.

And so it was left to this boy,

this little man of tender years,

to fend for himself and his family.

Off in the cold he went,

worn shoes wrapped in rags,

newspaper lining his thin wool coat,

as he trudged chest-deep in snow to the rail yard,

foraging on hands and bloody knees for scraps of coal,

hoping for some potatoes spilled from a ruptured sack.

Finding none, he took a broom handle

and, in desperation, killed his family's dinner:

Three wharf rats hiding in the hold of a ship.

Terrible, yes.

But the family survived.

And the little boy?

Well, the little boy speaks to you tonight from this very podium.

Prohibition means progress.

And never again will families be robbed of their fathers,

held hostage by alcohol.

How proud I am to live in a nation which,

God willing, this year, will finally give its women the right to vote.

Ladies, I regret to inform you

that I have been called away on urgent county business

and therefore will be unable to stay for the potluck.

In closing, however, let me say this:

Without the continued support of good, decent women like you,

men like me would be nowhere.

Thank you and God bless.

In the trenches once we ate dog meat, but rats?

First rule of politics, kiddo:

Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.

Come on in, boys! Don't be shy.

Meet the gals who put the "ooh" in ooh-la-la.

Step right up, friends. What you waiting for?

Lovely ladies direct from Paris, France.

Young ladies, I know there are attractions

that your parents would like to take you to, but this is not one of them.

Ladies, take them away, yes.

They should have been gone a long time ago.

Don't be afraid, fellas. They won't bite.

- Hey, Nucky, how you doing?
- Not as good as you, Wendell.

- Good evening, Nucky.
- Hey, how are you?

- How are you, Nucky?
- Nice to see you.

Say it ain't so, Joe.

- To the end of the world!
- To the end of the world!

All right, take it easy, fellas.

I got it! I got it! Over here.

Hey, you got some rye? I want some gin, gin!

Thanks, ace.

- Is my brother here?
- Upstairs. They all are.

I wanted to arrest him, but he had 24 hours left. I couldn't.

Boys, boys, boys.

Mr. Mayor, friends,

fellow members of the city council,

as you know, in less than two hours, liquor will be declared illegal

by decree of the distinguished gentlemen of our nation's Congress.

To those beautiful, ignorant bastards!

Rest assured that, dry though the country may be,

I am in the midst of concluding arrangements

that will keep Atlantic City wet as a mermaid's twat.

Jeez, Nucky, you're fucking mermaids now?

Every vote counts, Mr. Mayor.

A Republican through and through.

The opportunity that is the Volstead Act has not merely knocked, my friends,

it has kicked our fucking doors in!

- Yeah!
- I'll believe it when I see it.

Come on, George,

it'll be like Prohibition never happened,

but for one thing. Prices will increase twenty-fold.

What kind of sucker will pay three clams for a drink worth 15 cents?

- You.
- You been to Margie's?

You'll pay 12 clams for a piece of cooze that ain't worth nothing.

Yeah, you pay.

- You pay.
- I know.

Now, he's on the trolley.

Number one, we got a product a fella's gotta have.

Yeah.

Even better is that we got a product he ain't allowed to have.

They might as well outlaw smoking.

A man's on holiday, believe me, he wants a drink, he'll pay the price for it.

- That's right.
- How about the law?

The law? I am the law, Georgie boy.

Or are you so fucking soused you thought I'm Lillian Gish, huh?

This ain't a flower. It's not a flower.

I'm gonna kick him out of here right now. You're out of here.

- The Feds!
- You're under arrest.

- The Feds, the fucking prohis. - "The Feds, the fucking..."

Dogcatchers with badges.

With all due deference to dogcatchers.

Now, as ward bosses, you'll each be responsible

for taking orders and collecting from your restaurants, hotels, what have you.

Those orders will be reviewed by my brother and his men,

who'll supervise delivery.

Which brings me to a few personnel changes.

- You all remember Jimmy Darmody?
- Welcome back, kid!

- Welcome home, Jimmy.
- Welcome back, kid.

Gave them Huns hell, I heard.

- Sure did.
- He did.

And now that he's made the world safe for democracy,

he's back to lend us a hand, too.

In three weeks, Paddy Ryan is taking over as Chief Clerk of the Fourth Ward.

Jimmy here'll be Pat's man Friday.

- Attaboy, Paddy.
- Yeah, Paddy.

- Congratulations, Paddy.
- Gentlemen, it's an honor.

Paddy Ryan, a good man.

Look out, Mayor, the kid will have your job one day.

He can have it right now if he wants it.

- Give it time, Mr. Mayor.
- Welcome aboard.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,

five, four, three, two, one.

Prohibition!

Hey, where you going?

- What's eating you?
- Nothing. I don't know. My stomach.

Go have a Brioschi.

Will you look at this shit?

James.

No, put it in your mouth.

Dempsey, "Champ was no draft dodger."

He explains his status during war.

- So what did he say?
- I don't know. He supported his mother.

- It's a bunch of baloney.
- They couldn't write it if it wasn't true.

Wise up, Ange. It's a bill of goods.

You think a fella would give up that type of opportunity to go fight for his country?

What? Why are you looking at me like that?

Princeton wasn't exactly the Heavyweight Championship, Angela.

Have you given it any more thought?

I'd be 25 by the time I graduated, almost 26.

I could go to work.

Doing what?

Painting pictures?

And what about Skeezix here?

- Where are you going?
- Hey, sit down, eat your food.

No, no. Come on. You gotta eat this mush.

- Get up. Come on. What about you, right?
- Yeah.

Drink your milk. One more bite.

Well, you know, you could learn a lot working for Ryan, maybe.

- Are the eggs ready yet?
- Hold your horses!

Your mother's screwy if she thinks I'm gonna work for a sap like Ryan.

- Ryan's a sap.
- Ryan is a sap.

Don't say that.

I drank all my milk.

Good.

So what are you gonna do?

I'm gonna talk to Nucky.

I don't know, two years killing Jerries

doesn't exactly prepare you for a whole lot else.

As Prohibition Agents,

you represent the finest America has to offer.

The first line of defense in the war against illegal liquor.

Stout-hearted men,

centurions for the modern age,

unswerving in duty and incorruptible in character.

Raise your right hands.

- I...
- I...

...state your name...

...do so solemnly swear... ...do so solemnly swear...

...to uphold the laws of the Constitution of the United States...

...to root out criminality in all forms... ...to root out criminality in all forms...

...and vigorously uphold all laws...

Nuck.

Nucky.

- What time is it? - 2:30.

- Nucky, are you up?
- What the fuck's the matter?

There's a lady waiting to see you. She's been waiting over an hour.

She says it is urgent. She's pregnant.

What?

You met her last night.

Last night?

She saw you talk or something.

The Tempremence League.

- Why didn't you say so?
- I just did.

"Pregnant woman here to see you."

Give me a fucking nosebleed.

I would never...

I am so sorry. I would never...

Interrupt... I go. I...

Gentlemen, welcome to the Brighton.

We got a nice high floor, right? I want to look at the water.

Rest assured, sir, all our rooms have an ocean view.

- Boys.
- Mr. Torrio.

Rothstein. See, I told you he'd come.

Big Jim Colosimo, Arnold Rothstein,

and Charlie Luciano. Charlie, how are you?

How you doing?

Come on.

You must please come this way.

Stephen, I am so sorry I'm late.

Tell Nucky I ain't got all day.

Mrs. Schroeder to see you.

Please have a seat.

May I offer you tea?

- Thank you, I'm fine.
- No, it's no trouble.

- Have you eaten?
- Thank you, no.

I mean, I have, yes.

I've eaten, but I...

Okay, relax. Please.

- No more appointments.
- Ja.

Is that a bit of the old country I hear in your voice?

- My husband says I sound like an immigrant.
- Ah.

But we're all immigrants, are we not?

Tell me how I can help you.

First of all, sir, I would never...

But when I heard you speak, I...

There, there now.

My apologies.

My husband, he has a weakness for the dice games.

He's a drinker as well, on occasion.

Is this your first child?

It's our third.

We've a boy and a girl.

Do you have children of your own, Mr. Thompson?

I'm sorry.

- That was quite forward.
- Not at all.

I do not.

I lost my wife to consumption.

Oh. I'm sorry.

She was very pretty.

She was.

Hey, Nucky?

- I'm gonna go now.
- Um, I'm in a meeting.

No, please, I...

No, Mrs. Schroeder, Lucy Danziger.

Hello.

Hi.

So, am I gonna see you later?

I'll get in touch.

- I'm sorry. I...
- No.

- She's my...
- It's...

Does your husband work?

He's a baker's helper.

But till tourist season, and with winter,

and the children without boots, I...

Your story moved me so.

If you could see your way to give him a job, sir.

As you say, until tourist season.

However...

- This should see you through winter.
- I'm not here looking for charity.

I insist.

I don't know what to say, how to thank you.

I'd be honored to name my child after you.

Enoch?

You couldn't possibly be so cruel.

Jimmy?

- Will you see that Mrs. Schroeder gets home?
- I'm fine to walk, please.

No, no, no, you are in no condition.

- Thank you, Mr. Thompson.
- Sure.

Pardon me.

Your friends from Chicago checked in. The New York gangs, too.

- All right, we're all set for tonight then? - 8:00, the Traymore.

- Good.
- Say, Nuck, I was hoping to bend your ear...

Drop her off, then meet me at the pier later.

- It's best you leave me here.
- What was that?

- Please could you leave me here?
- Right here?

- Okay.
- Thank you.

- May I help you inside?
- I'm fine.

- You sure?
- Thank you.

- Where you been?
- I was...

Get in the house.

Who the hell is that?

Gather around and behold, ladies and gentlemen,

the catch of the day!

For Neptune yields the treasures from his watery kingdom.

Sea bass, eel, blue crabs, king mackerel and flounder...

Nucky.

Bill McCoy, as I live and breathe.

- You been up north lately?
- Funny you should ask.

I just got back. A little souvenir shopping.

There are things you just can't get back home anymore.

A load's coming in tomorrow night.

Canadian Club, straight from the distillery.

Five hundred crates at 100 clams per.

- That's a nice even number.
- It keeps the arithmetic easy.

I am a simple fisherman, after all.

Not anymore, you're not.

"And he took the loaves and fishes, looked at his disciples and said,

"'Fuck it. We're going into the whiskey business."'

How much for the whole kaboodle?

It's a big city, Billy boy. A lot of thirsty people.

Forty grand.

Thirty-five and we'll do it once a week.

What does that come to a crate?

A fuck of a lot more than you're paying for it, that's for sure.

Do we have a deal or no?

Dirty chiseler.

You'll hear from my brother about the particulates.

Where are you going? I thought we were having a drink.

I already got what I wanted. What the fuck would we talk about?

- Say, Nucky, about that thing.
- What thing?

- The thing I wanted to talk to you about.
- Wait, I gotta get cigarettes.

Nucky Thompson is here.

Mr. Thompson, I am honored.

He was a good man. My deepest condolences.

I hadn't even realized you knew my husband.

Oh, of course. He was a fine fellow. Just last month we spoke.

But the laryngectomy.

Fellas, meet the missus.

She ain't much on personality, but she don't talk back none neither.

What's the matter, kid? Never seen a stiff before?

I've seen a couple.

I'm short on time, Mickey. What'd you want to show me?

So much for the niceties.

- My factory, gentlemen.
- Quite an operation.

Ten shiners,

two shifts, 24 hours a day.

Gotta figure we're putting out close to 2,000 crates a week.

And that's just for starters.

- None of this is legit?
- Not once they get through with it.

One part real, eight parts water.

You heat it up, let it cool, then add your alcohol to bring up your proof.

Where do you get your alcohol?

Potatoes.

You let 'em ferment. It smells rough, but compared to a stiff, it's fucking lilacs.

After you add the alcohol, you throw in your caramel coloring,

your oil of rye, bourbon, depending on what you want.

You can make Scotch, too?

Naturally. You just gotta add some carbonyl though for the bead.

What's that?

The bubbles.

Higher the proof, more bead it's supposed to have.

Go on, bottoms up.

- What the fuck's in this shit?
- Carbonyl, like I said.

Formaldehyde.

Formaldehyde, huh?

Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing?

Cocksucker!

What the hell's wrong with you? Out! Now! Beat it.

Jimmy, out!

Stupid bohunk.

It was just a gag, okay?

- Yeah, you're a real pistol.
- Enough with the bohunk cracks.

- My name's Doyle now.
- What?

I changed it. I ain't Mickey Cusick no more.

- Who's after you?
- Nobody.

Then why Doyle?

It sounds better, is all.

"A rose by any other name."

- What's that supposed to mean?
- Read a fucking book.

- What are you, off your nut?
- Well, you didn't drink that piss, I did.

- You're still breathing, aren't you?
- Yeah, so is he.

That's the problem. He's still breathing.

He's part of my operation, kid.

You don't need him.

What would you know about it?

What's with you? And don't tell me it's your goddamn stomach.

You want to know what's with me? Honestly?

- Yeah.
- Paddy Ryan.

You really expect me to go work for that mick?

You'd rather be my driver?

Of course not, Nuck. It's just, you make Ryan clerk?

I can run rings around that chump.

Oh, listen to Bonnie Prince Charlie.

Come on, Nuck, you were assistant sheriff when you were my age.

And for eight years prior, I spent night and day kissing the Commodore's ass.

I've been kissing your ass since I was 12!

And what about the last three years?

I wanted to serve my country.

And nearly get yourself killed.

Did it ever occur how your girl might feel about that?

Your little boy?

Look, if that was my fate, then so be it.

And he wants to be in politics.

You know who dies for their country, kid? Fucking rubes, that's who.

Yeah, well, I'm home now, Nuck.

So how about it?

Had you stayed in school, it'd have been you in that job, not Ryan.

All right, so you're punishing me. Is that it? You're punishing me.

I'm telling you to slow down, get the lay of the land.

You've been home now what? A month?

Nucky, I'm not the same kid that left.

I've seen things.

I've done things.

Well, how we gonna keep you down on the farm?

- I'm serious.
- I know.

All right, look,

that's 1,000 bucks.

- Go buy yourself a decent suit...
- I don't want your money!

A fella hands you a grand, you tell him to fuck himself?

You're a pip, kid, I gotta say.

Nucky, all I want is an opportunity.

This is America, ain't it? Who the fuck's stopping you?

Come on, let's go.

One for you.

Two!

- And two.
- Two pile of soup!

And one for you.

The automobile.

Tell me again how you came to find yourself getting chauffeured around town.

I told you.

I was walking past the church when I felt faint.

Mr. Thompson saw me and was kind enough to have his driver see me home.

Come here.

You are a little warm.

You're feeling better now though, are you?

I am.

And this?

How did this find its way under the mattress?

- Mommy.
- That money belongs to the children.

Like fuck it does! Where'd you get it? Huh?

Never you mind where I got it.

By whoring yourself out?

You whore!

- You give me that money.
- No, you sit down or you'll get the belt!

Eat your food!

I want Mommy!

Eat your food.

Ah.

Thank you.

This is them.

Gentlemen.

Enoch Thompson.

Okay.

- Big Jim Colosimo.
- Mr. Thompson.

- Nice to see you. Come on in.
- Pleasure to meet you.

Now, if you come back here in July,

at the pool they have the sea nymph festival.

- Seamen festival?
- You should come for that.

- Got them.
- Like mermaids.

January 16th, 8:03 p.m.

Johnny Torrio meeting with Nucky Thompson.

- Which one's Torrio?
- The gray tweed. Gray tweed.

We got a bead on Rothstein. He just came in with Luciano.

This other fellow is Big Jim Colosimo.

- Come again?
- In the homburg.

- The Hamburg?
- The homburg.

Never mind. He took it off.

- Who's this fella now?
- Who?

The guy in the brown suit.

That's the concierge.

- It's "Sierge"?
- The manager. He works here.

So the red tie, that's Big Jim?

Does that man look big to you?

How's that?

It's Arnold Rothstein.

So it's not Colosimo?

- Arnold Rothstein.
- And Nucky Luciano.

- Lucky!
- Come again?

Lucky Luciano, Nucky Thompson.

So who's Colosimo?

Fella goes to divorce court.

The judge says, "I've decided to give your wife $25 a week."

Fella says, "That's mighty swell of you, Judge.

"I'll try to send her a few clams myself now and again."

- Clams?
- Money.

Clams, money, capito?

- Money.
- Mmm.

You should put in some lobster too, no?

No!

No, no, no. None for me.

You're a law-abiding citizen, are you?

Teetotaler. Never touch it.

- He's the lightweight.
- I like to stay sharp at the tables.

Yeah, sharp. The way he wins, he wants to be sharp.

Last year he clear $2 million just off the World Series alone.

And they call that one Lucky.

What do you think I'm sitting next to him for?

Hey, boy, do you have any Caruso records?

- Enrico Caruso?
- That's fine.

- Caruso, no?
- Go find some and play it.

Tell the boys.

It's like funeral music here.

How's the chow, fellas?

Fine. Delicious.

She's the best.

- You should come to my restaurant sometime.
- Sure.

I treat you nice.

If you like to eat, you eat.

If you don't like to eat...

Hmm?

Who doesn't like to eat?

Chicago's a fine town.

It ain't New York, that's for sure.

New York ain't New York now, with Prohibition.

It will be if I have something to say about it.

Ain't that the reason we're all here tonight?

As you know, in light of recent developments,

I thought it might be of mutual benefit for you boys to meet.

All the way from Chi-town out of the goodness of his heart.

When I say mutual benefit, I mean mine, too.

I didn't come here for the pasta asciutta.

I'll be expecting a matchmaking fee.

Of course.

See, in addition to their other enterprises, Messrs Rothstein and Luciano

have significant interests in the cabaret business back in New York.

And a man such as yourself,

with both political influence as well as a passing acquaintance

with the seafaring types of the Atlantic Ocean...

Johnny, talk English.

Questo big business.

So what's the difference?

Go ahead, do what you gonna do.

Could you fix us up or no?

We'll take alls we can get, up to 2,000 crates a month.

For starters.

You young fellas,

no appreciation for the art of conversation.

All right, yeah. I gotta piss.

I apologize.

Ambition can be read as impatience sometimes.

- Arrogance, too.
- Yeah.

I have a friend, a judge.

His daughter's wedding is in a week.

I'd like to be able to accommodate him and their 700 guests.

- You haven't stockpiled?
- Mmm-mmm.

All sold already. I'm coming up short.

Well, I have a load coming in tomorrow.

Five hundred crates, Canadian Club.

Originally I'd planned to keep it,

but seeing how I'd like to start our relationship off on the right foot,

- how about I let you have it?
- How much?

Sixty grand for the entire load.

But you use your own men for the pickup.

Send me over the details. We'll settle up in cash tomorrow.

All right.

All right, gentlemen.

Cheers.

I was in Chicago once.

- Good steaks.
- It's all right.

A little cold, but so is Brooklyn.

You get used to it, I guess.

Summer of '17, I passed through there on my way to Camp Grant.

Doughboy, huh?

Mmm.

Me, too.

The Lost Battalion.

No kidding.

How about you? You see any action?

Little bit.

Caught some shrapnel from a Jerry's grenade.

- Spent eight months in the hospital.
- Jesus.

Say, let me ask you something.

A guy like Rothstein,

what's a fellow like that worth?

Him?

Ten million at least.

- On the level?
- He's as big as they come.

Christ, Luciano's sitting on a half a million.

I know that for a fact. Got a spread on Park Avenue.

You make that much running card games?

Cards, hijacking.

He's a fucking dope peddler, too.

Did six months for pushing heroin a couple years back.

But he only did six months?

Yeah, he bought a judge.

Oh, right.

Jeez, half a million dollars. Can you imagine that?

How old is... What is he, like our age?

22, 23 maybe.

You guys gonna get into the liquor business, too?

Colosimo says no. Too much heat from the law.

Says there's enough money in the whorehouses.

But you don't agree?

I'm Johnny's muscle. Who gives a fuck what I think?

Yeah.

If you get in trouble, don't call me. You call my brother.

And so what you want to do, just ask for Lolly.

He'll be expecting you.

I'd wish you luck, but it sounds like you don't need it.

We make our own luck.

True enough.

- Nice talking to you.
- You, too.

- Jimmy Darmody.
- AI Capone.

All right, Al.

Mr. Thompson, thank you very, very much.

The lobster was very good. You paid. I'm a happy man.

Next time we come to your place, you pay for it.

- Any time.
- You kick in the clams.

- Ah!
- A joke, yeah.

- Thanks again. Pleasure.
- You come to Chicago, I fix you up.

All right.

Jimmy, stop with the clams.

It's a joke. Americans, they like to make a joke.

- Hey, slow down, champ.
- You could buy me taffy.

No taffy. He looks like Fatty Arbuckle Jr.

- Hey...
- No, no, no, sweetie, sweetie.

- This way, sweetie.
- Come here.

- This way.
- Come here, Tommy.

- Stay with Daddy.
- Come here.

Maybe we should get a photo.

No, I don't feel like it today.

James Darmody? Ma'am.

That's right.

Special Agent Van Alden, Bureau of Internal Revenue.

- Can I help you?
- Perhaps.

- Will you come with me?
- Jimmy.

It's okay, dear. Go on home.

What's this about?

It's fine. I'll see you at home.

Thank you, ma'am.

Distinguished Service Cross,

Battle of Saint...

How do you say this?

Mihiel.

Seems to me you're a man on the come.

I'm doing all right.

College man, too. Princeton.

For a while.

Am I in trouble or something?

Guilty conscience?

You mind telling me what a go-getter like you

is doing working for a crook like Thompson?

It's not like that. Mr. Thompson is a pillar of our community.

Tell it to Sweeney. We know all about him and his little fiefdom.

- The election rigging, the graft...
- None of which we're interested in.

- What are you interested in?
- Liquor.

Its illegal importation and manufacture.

How would you like to come work for the Bureau?

I got a bum leg.

Suppose I say you don't?

You got a wife, young son at home.

It's an honorable profession, James, plenty of room for advancement.

It's a godly pursuit.

Could I have one of those cigarettes?

Give him a light.

Sure.

You do go to church, don't you, Mr. Darmody?

Yeah, sure.

Well, then you know, right?

Yeah, what?

Know what?

- Giddy up, cowboy.
- Lucy, stop... Stop saying that.

Come on, daddy.

- Giddy up, cowboy.
- Lucy, stop!

- What?
- With the cowboy shit.

- It's distracting.
- Okay, Nucky, come on.

Yeah.

Nucky!

What?

I heard screaming. Are you all right?

May I enter?

- No! What do you want?
- Steinman's on the wire.

Christ!

- What?
- All right.

He is always interrupting us!

Jeez Louise.

What?

Screaming? We were fucking, Eddie!

Fucking.

- Hello?
- It's Lolly.

Hey, listen, your friend from New York, the bankroll?

- He just took us for 90 grand.
- What?

Sixteen hours and he wants to keep going.

We ain't that flush right now, Nuck.

All right, I'll be right there.

- Eddie!
- Ja?

Tell Jimmy to bring the car around.

Jimmy called to be out sick.

Son of a bitch.

- Lucy, open the door.
- No!

Come on, baby. I gotta get dressed.

No fucking way!

Go spend time with Eddie.

He's obviously more important than me.

I...

No, he's not more important than you.

But Arnold Rothstein and $90,000 is more important!

- Open the goddamn door!
- No!

Why don't you go hang out with him?

Yeah, you do it. My back.

Get in there. Yeah, yeah!

Please, Lucy, it's very important for Eddie to come in.

- Open the...
- Open the fucking door!

- Where is he?
- Eating with the Italian fellow.

I didn't want to say nothing, but this Rothstein's a cheater.

Honestly, if he wasn't who he is, they'd have found him in a fucking alley.

- Well, he is who he is.
- That's why I called.

You fellows ever hear of sleep?

Who can sleep with all this excitement?

I heard you had a lucky streak.

Luck had nothing to do with it.

I'm a skilled player is what he means.

That's what I hear.

So? What's all this about cutting me off?

It's not that. It's a small house.

We just can't handle your kind of action right now.

Your credit's good with me.

Why don't we get to know each other better?

I don't think I like what I'm hearing.

Maybe you shouldn't be listening to the grown-ups' conversations.

- How is that?
- Charlie, sit down.

Charlie, Charlie.

As of now, you owe me 93 grand.

Less 60 for tonight's load, knocks it to 33.

So you could keep playing, then.

I don't gamble where I don't feel welcome.

I'm sorry you feel that way.

Cash him out.

Thompson, right?

Heard you're familiar with my wife.

- Pardon?
- My wife.

Margaret. You drove her home.

Where'd you get that money?

What business is that of yours?

That money belongs to your wife.

So it was you who give it to her.

Here, you prick. I'm winning anyway.

Toss him the fuck out.

All right, we went over the rules in the locker room.

I want a good, clean fight.

No holding, no low blows, break when I tell you.

Now touch gloves and come out fighting.

Hit him! Fucking hit him.

Keep your right up. Hook, jab, jab, jab.

If I was you I'd bet on the little guy.

- What are you doing here?
- I'm a fight fan.

What else?

So how much you know about this haul

that's coming in tonight for Rothstein?

Tell ya, for a fellow good-looking as me, I sure do get the homely girls.

I don't mind the homely ones,

especially when they're dumb.

I love the dumb ones.

My girl is so dumb,

she thought that daylight savings was a bank.

My girl is so dumb, she thinks Long Island Sound makes a noise.

It's true! Thank you, thank you.

That worked better than this afternoon. You're a wonderful crowd.

My girl is so, so dumb,

she thought that iceberg was a Yiddish name.

My girl is so dumb, she tried to buy plum pudding from a plumber.

- All right, let's go.
- No, it's true.

Had him running all over town.

Something else about my girl. She was so dumb,

they finally had to burn down the schoolhouse

to get her out of the second grade.

They let her pose for the class photo, but, oh, boy, was she homely.

You've heard of crocodile shoes?

Well, she had a pair.

With a complexion to match!

I took her to visit the zoo.

Why, the zookeeper thanked me for bringing her back.

Lovely family, though. Very nice girl. Lovely family.

Her poor father died of throat trouble.

They hung him.

Her poor brother, lovely chap, but he's gone, too.

With good behavior he should be back in about 10 years.

He used to work in a bank, but no matter how much the boss likes you,

you can't work in a bank and take home samples.

Oh, no!

Pretty fucking obvious now, ain't it?

- Okay!
- Get their guns.

You're fucking dead. You're fucking as good as dead!

- All of youse!
- Shut your yap.

Easy, easy, don't get rattled.

What's that?

What?

That.

The fucking wind. Relax.

The woods, get him, get him!

Come here, you son of a bitch!

What the...

Darmody! Jimmy!

- Did you get him?
- Yeah.

- What the fuck was that?
- The fucking deers.

Go on, get in the car. Go on, scram!

Come on, let's go. Beat it.

Got something to say now, huh?

Fucking whore!

Please stop!

I would love to get married one day.

I am very, very sorry. Excuse me for one moment.

- He is always talking on the phone.
- Hello.

- It's me.
- What?

It's me. We got a problem.

All right, I'll be right there.

Fellas, fellas, no leads or arrests!

How many bodies were found?

Nothing has been confirmed at this time!

As soon as we know something, we'll make an official statement.

Four bodies, blood everywhere.

It was like a fucking firing squad.

No sign of the truck?

In a goddamn election year.

- The Feds onto this yet?
- No.

Hands still full with the funeral home.

Cusick's probably having a stroke.

You know the imbecile changed his name to Doyle?

Don't ask.

You know, the peculiar thing is

that at the same time the Feds are raiding Mickey,

this shit is happening three miles away.

Ain't that a coincidence?

So do you want to say it or should I?

It could be Rothstein himself set it up.

All right, so who knew about the load?

Me, obviously, Torrio.

Jimmy?

Who's mysteriously gone missing all of a sudden.

All right, bring him in.

Hey, Ange, sorry. I know it's late.

Jimmy in?

No, I haven't seen him in hours. I thought he was at work.

Sorry to disturb you.

When he comes home, tell him Nucky's looking for him.

Well, now I'm getting concerned.

Probably ran into a friend. War buddy maybe.

Do you think it could have something to do with the men that picked him up?

Beg your pardon?

There is no comment.

Now you must stop ringing!

Cocksucking reporters.

If they want a statement, tell them to call the mayor.

Even reporters ain't that stupid.

I'll give them a statement later.

I can't get over it. It don't make sense.

- Doesn't it?
- Come on, Eli, Jimmy?

He gives the Feds the funeral home,

Throws them off the scent.

Meantime, he's out pulling this job.

- Not how, why.
- Why? Because he's greedy.

Jealous probably, too. That's the way people are, Nucky.

Arnold Rothstein.

I'm very sorry, Mr. Thompson is not available.

He would very much like you to call him back.

- Where are you going?
- To get some air.

Mr. Thompson, I was just coming to see you.

I'm sorry, I'm late for a meeting.

I really just wanted to drop this off.

I'm on my way to the hospital.

Nothing serious, I hope?

One of our members, Mrs. Schroeder.

She suffered an injury.

Lost her child.

What was the manner of injury?

I'm really not at liberty to say.

Commodore?

Mr. Nucky here to see you.

Well, send him in, for God's sake.

Quite the shitstorm you got on your hands, eh, Mr. Treasurer?

Well, good morning to you, too.

These bodies in the woods,

I assume belong to your friend in New York?

Rothstein's men.

I don't understand why you got involved.

Yes, you do!

It was a favor to Chicago.

That, plus Rothstein's numbers were right.

Till he buggered you in the ass.

Fucking Rothstein.

By Henry fucking Ford.

I think my problems go beyond world finance.

What a fucking night.

It's seven years today.

Mabel.

I'd just gone to jail.

Not a day goes by, I'll tell you that much.

Maybe she's better off.

The Feds will be all over this thing.

I can't have dead bodies lying around on the road. Bad for business.

You gotta give them someone.

Let 'em make an arrest.

It's Jimmy.

Get the fuck... This?

Left me holding the bag.

What a fucking little prick.

I never knew he had it in him.

Jimmy?

Fucking Jimmy.

Nucky.

Nuck!

- I take you back.
- Nucky.

- I give you a job...
- Listen.

...and this is how you fucking repay me?

Last night was not supposed to happen like that, Nuck.

Make sure you mention that to Rothstein as he's cutting your nuts off.

It's all gonna get straightened out, Nuck. I promise.

Are you that stupid?

Have no fucking idea how in over your head you are?

- I know it's an awful...
- Did I not tell you to slow down?

I tried to give you money. I tried...

I tried to tell you I'm not a kid anymore!

And killing and fucking larceny?

- That makes you a man?
- No.

You got brains, kid. You had a future.

Look, I still got a future. We both do.

The war, Nuck, the things I did over there?

You live in a trench for months on end.

The killing, the smell of death.

Nucky, I'm nothing but a murderer.

You know how many times I went over the top?

They call me a fucking hero. The truth is

I didn't care anymore.

I didn't care.

You're home now.

- You got a family.
- I'm going to hell, Nuck.

- Knock it off.
- No, I am.

- You are not.
- I'm 22 years old.

I see fellas like fucking Luciano with a fancy suit with fucking diamonds.

- Is that what you want?
- That's what you want, too! That's what...

It's what we all want.

At least I got the gumption to take it.

You'd be very foolish to underestimate me, James.

I could have you killed.

Yeah, but you won't.

Look, you can't be half a gangster, Nucky.

Not anymore.

Let me help you.

- What the fuck is this?
- It's your share for last night.

I didn't ask for this.

You didn't have to.

Sir, we need you to come with us.

What are you doing?

- What are you doing?
- Get in there!

Sir!

Please. Surely you're making a mistake.

- Getting cold?
- Are you kidding me?

The Atlantic City Sheriff's Department has confirmed

that a body found caught in a fisherman's net this afternoon

is that of Hans Schroeder,

a local man who went missing yesterday. Stop.

Schroeder, who worked occasionally as a baker's helper,

had been sought in connection

with Saturday night's bloody roadside massacre. Stop.

Maestro, can I have my note, please? A note for Eddie.

This time it's a ballad.

Hello.