Peaky Blinders (2013–…): Season 5, Episode 1 - Black Tuesday - full transcript

Mr Shelby, you're not yourself.
I should call a doctor.

It's just myself talking to myself
about myself.

Michael, you're going to New York.

Why?

Because the company has business
to attend to in America.

You knew I was going to be shot...

...and you chose not to tell me.

I chose my mum.

Thomas Shelby, Labour Party, 48,564!

I've been to a doctor on your
behalf.

It starts when you stop.
When you rest.



Mr Shelby, you're
meant to be resting.

I have learnt something, Frances.

There's no rest for me
in this world.

Perhaps in the next.

Arthur?

"We cannot give you the assurance
you are asking for.

"We expect payment in full."

Here's my favourite part.

"We have never even heard
of your people,

"so we are not afraid
of your threats."

And they've signed it
"the Angels of Retribution".

Hmm.

They say
they haven't even heard of us.

So tell Aberama and Isiah to
introduce themselves.



And, Finn...

...you stay out of it.

Yeah?

Wait.

Wait, wait. Say that again.

No.

No, that cannot be possible!

Peter, my beautiful pilot...

Now, will you please fly me
and my winnings back to England?

Ten spoonfuls of sugar for me,
please.

Where's that full one?

Look, Ruby.

Daddy's back from his call.

Everything's going
to be all right now.

Oh, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Oh, no, no.

Ah!

Hello?

Arthur! Arthur, where's Tommy?

Just get to him and tell him
that we've lost the lot!

Stay there. You stay put.

You'll hear from Tommy.

Arthur, what are you talking about?
How is that possible?

It's possible because, this morning

in New York City at 6am,

the Wall Street Stock Exchange
crashed

like a steam train.

We were most definitely on board.

Fuck it.

-Oi! Come on, get changed!
-Jesus Christ!

Bring the car round!

We've got to get out of here.
Hurry up! Come on!

I'm going!

Change of plan.
We're not going to London any more.

-We're going straight to Birmingham.
-There are other passengers.

Not any more.

If you're going to England,
I'm coming with you.

-No. No.
-I love you, you love me.

-That's the truth.
-Gina, wait, come on.

-I want to meet your family.
-No, you don't.

Argh!

Now you've heard of us.

Come on.

Couch. Couch!

Put something down for the blood.
My sister'll fucking kill me.

Be fucking careful!

She spends thousands of pounds
on this shit.

Argh!

Get me some booze. Ah!

Just fucking get the thing out of me
and sew me up. Just do it.

Peaky boy, give me your blade.

That's enough.

Don't want you throwing up
on your sister's furniture.

-You know what you're doing?
-I've done this a thousand times.

I once took a bullet from between
two ribs, one inch from the heart.

Mind you, it was a horse.

And the horse did die.

Hold him. Hold him.

There you go. Just a little one.

-What the fuck is going on?!
-Oh, fuck.

Hello, Ada.

Get out, both of you.

Push this on the wound.

-Keep up the pressure.
-Get out.

I'm so sorry, Ada. They broke a
statue of some thin woman.

Fucking statues.

What has Tommy told you?

-Shelbys stay out of the sporting stuff.
-What?

-To maintain his fucking reputation?
-Oi!

You listen to me.
We've got a chance.

Tommy has given us that chance.

He's got power, we've got money,
and our past is left behind us.

And you've got a precious young
life, Finn, you fucking idiot.

Three inches to the left
and that would have been gone.

You've got nothing to prove, Finn.

You have got nothing to prove.

-Daddy! Daddy!
-Come here, you. Come here. Come here. Come here.

Come here. Come here. Ooh!

Now, what have you been up to, eh?

Get it done, Johnny.

All right, you heard the man.
Let's go.

Where's Charles?

He's in the wagon.
He won't come out.

He heard Johnny talking Rokker.

He understands more Gypsy
than we think.

He heard him say you shot the horse.
I told him it was mercy.

I said it's what you do when a horse
gets sick. He doesn't understand.

Dad, why did you shoot him?

Charlie, get out here now.
Let's get it done.

Charles? Come here.

Sit down.

Now, listen to me.

Your horse was sick. He was in pain.

The vet couldn't do anything,
even Curly couldn't do anything.

I put him to sleep.

-It's what you do.
-No! It's what YOU do!

Shoot horses, shoot people!
Everybody says!

Dangerous, my beautiful horse.

Too wild to race.

Wouldn't take the reins or the whip.

Should have been a war horse.

Got tired of the pasture.

Couldn't stick the peace and quiet,
gave up on life...

...and is now free.

In the bleak...

You're crying.

Tom...

..I'm sorry.

I didn't know your boy spoke Rokker.

Fill it in, Johnny.

It's fine.

I've called the house, the office.

But if I tell you...

...you won't believe it...

...so I'll show you.

Huh?

I told Michael on Friday
this was going to happen.

Yeah.

Fucking Michael...said he was
advised by the broker that prices

would rebound.

Everybody was told the same thing.

He held on.

-Michael held on?
-Yeah.

Michael.

-Michael held on?
-Yeah.

Michael held on...

...and carried on
dancing and playing...

...and fucking in the snow.

Charlie!

Charlie, come out here now!

Kid never fucking listens.

Never listens, Lizzie!

What do I have to do
to make people

fucking listen to me?!

Holy fuck!

What do we do now, Tommy, eh?

What do we do?

Lizzie, you go with Arthur to
Birmingham,

you stay in the Midland Hotel.
Arthur, call a full meeting of

the board of directors
tomorrow at noon.

A full fucking meeting.

What about today, eh?
What's wrong with today, Tom?

-I need to do some thinking.
-Oh, yeah.

Oh, you do that best on your own,
don't you, eh?

I won't be on my own.
Never on my own.

Lizzie, you have the driver
come back tomorrow.

And, Arthur, tell my boy...

...that sometimes death is a
kindness.

Come on.

What now?

What am I, a genie?

You summon me up
with your little bottle of dope?

I take it for the pain,
to keep warm.

Is that what it's for?

The warmth?

The warmth.

All this time...

I know.

Our love still remains.

But you have to listen
to the voices that you hear.

Do what they tell you to do.

Too much to do, Grace.

The kids...

I need to say goodbye.

I need to sleep.

Just think, Tom.

Linda!

Oh, there you are, eh?

You're the chairman, Arthur,
so start acting like one.

Chairman, am I, hmm?

No.

I'm the fucking doorman, Linda, hmm?

And you ain't coming in here
tonight, love, dressed like that.

Tommy made me chairman so that...

...he could stay clean.

It's called an arrangement.

It's an opportunity.

I know who I am, Linda.

I know who I am
and I'm all right with it.

Finally.

I can live with it.

I need you to be all right with it.

I need you to be
all right with it, eh?

What is it, eh?

And what do you want, hmm?

What, do you want the chairman?
Do you? Hmm?

With his fancy briefcase
and his gold fountain pen, eh?

What do you want?

Chairman...

...or doorman? Hmm?

You think we can fuck and it'll be
OK and I'll be quiet. Well, I won't.

Every week, your brother's down in London,
making out he's fucking Robin Hood,

champion of the people, while you're
up here running the racket for him.

And according to your "arrangement",
if anything should happen,

it'd be you who takes the blame,
does the time or swings for it.

-And what do you want?
-I want you...

...to take the opportunity

that God and the New York Stock
Exchange has presented to you.

Mr Shelby,
the meeting will be starting soon.

Yeah. All right.

Be right there.

Thank you, Edna.

And shut the door.

OK, now...

Mmm, they're nice.

...let's begin.

Yesterday, as you all know,
there was a fucking terrible...

There was a terrible disaster. Hmm?

It wasn't just for us.

It was for the whole world.

Happened in New York.

That's where it happened.

And it slowly spread to London.

And then to, er,
fucking Hong Kong. Hmm?

Whole thing...whole thing went up.

Well, actually the whole thing
went fucking down, but...

...we wasn't the
only ones hurt by this.

Whole world is hurt.

A lot of people.

In the papers.

It's all over the news.

-Everyone's talking about it.
-Arthur?

Shouldn't we just wait for Thomas?

Polly, Arthur's now
the chairman of the board.

Er, Mr Chairman,
perhaps while we wait for Thomas,

I might lighten the gloom and

express, as a relatively new member
of this company, what a pleasure it

is to be in a boardroom that
has so many females in it,

and all females who are both
sharp-witted and decorative.

Yeah, well, we're a very
modern company, Mr Greene.

-Indeed.
-Although there are still some among us who cling to their

old-fashioned values.

How far have we got?

We've established
that ladies are decorative.

We've only just sat down,
Tom.

Actually, um, Arthur has some documents
that he'd like to hand out.

Yeah? What documents?

I was just explaining to everyone,
Tom, that, um, well, we're fucked.

-Ain't that right? Hmm?
-Yes and no.

It is true that a large proportion
of the company's funds

were invested in American stocks
and shares.

Invested or hidden?

All investments are approved
by the board, Linda.

Only the ones that went
through the books, Thomas.

Linda, after this meeting there will
be another meeting, for just family.

Did we vote on this?

-Arthur?
-"Arthur, can't you control your wife?"

We are a very modern company,
Mr Greene.

To be precise,
everything we channelled

through the New York Stock Exchange
is now offering a return

of ten cents to the dollar.

And the Nolan Bank of America,

where we invested our fluidity,

is offering five cents to the dollar
on all deposits.

Yeah.

-There is hope.
-Why?

What have you got in there,
a magic wand?

As nonexecutive director of the
company, I need the permission from

the chairman
to present my strategy to the board.

Permission granted, Tom.

The Peaky Blinders are coming!
The Peaky Blinders are coming!

Micky,
the Peaky Blinders are coming!

Ladies and gents, Peaky Blinders are
on their way. Please vacate. Thank you.

-Good to see you.
-All right, Mr Shelby.

-Mr Shelby...
-Yeah?

-...thank you for what you did.
-What did I do?

He was going to evict us,
that bastard Fellows.

Now he's cut our rent in half.

Good. Glad to hear it.
Glad to hear it.

All right?

How far can we go, Mr Shelby,
with this beautiful dream?

-All the way, brother. All the way.
-Revolution, man!

This crash, Mr Shelby. They're
saying they're gonna cut my hours.

-Yeah. Where do you work?
-Greenhams Engineering.

Greenham brothers. I know them.
They're not gonna cut your hours.

God bless you. God bless you both.

-Enjoy your drink.
-Gentlemen and ladies.

If you'll all move into the saloon
bar,

where you will all be served
a free pint of stingo.

Any man who served in France
gets a brandy chaser.

And in spite of what you're reading
in the newspapers,

I want to hear singing and laughing.
Fuck the stock market.

Fuck the stock market!

They backed the wrong horses,
so fucking what, eh?

Thank you, Mr Shelby. At last,
a politician who gets things done.

You're welcome, brother, you're
welcome.

-Get down off the furniture.
-Sorry, Ada.

I was getting excited, wasn't I?

Right.

Can I begin this family meeting
with a proposal?

From now on,
we find somewhere else to meet.

Your husband believes that being
seen

mixing with the common people
is good politics.

Hmm. Well, if this is our campaign
for socialism, perhaps next time,

Polly, you won't wear earrings worth
more than the pub.

Right. Family meeting. First item.

This.

Dug out of our Finn's arm yesterday

by Aberama Gold using your gin
and a razor blade.

Finn?

He says they were sent to Limehouse.
Chinatown.

Sent by fucking who?

Sent by me.

I told Finn to stay out of this.
He obviously didn't listen.

Oh, Tommy, sweetheart,
I listen to you.

I listen to you when you tell me

no more sport for anyone named
Shelby.

I listen to you
when you make me promises.

What's in Chinatown, Tommy?
What the fuck is going on?

£50,000.

In cash.

He said they were sent to
Chinatown to kill somebody.

That kid needs educating,
Tommy, really does.

Jesus Christ, Tommy!

-It was a particular opportunity.
-A particular opportunity

presented to me in confidence.
I dealt with it in confidence.

But you told Polly.

Tommy told me there was
a pimp in East London who sold kids.

Fucking kids, Lizzie, eh?
Hmm?

This pimp was blackmailing a senior
member of the House of Lords,

-a very wealthy man.
-Now this pimp is lying in a ditch,

covered in flies.
World's a better place.

Holy fuck! So now your business
is improving the world?

Sometimes, Ada...

...killing is a kindness.

Hmm?

The man we did the job for
is a High Court judge.

We received intelligence from

a senior police officer
in Scotland Yard.

I've made lots of new friends in
London. Men with influence.

The police felt the same way
about this pimp as we did.

He wasn't worth a trial. The coppers
cleared the streets for us.

This was work commissioned by a High
Court judge, by Scotland Yard

and by the House of Lords.

It's a particular opportunity.
It's not to be repeated.

-And it was the right thing to do.
-Fucking right.

Lizzie, you need to understand.

-That you tell Polly, not me.
-You need to understand that the

corridors of Westminster
are very dimly lit.

And for those who make the rules,
there are no rules.

We own the ropes.
Who's going to hang us now, eh?

-"We"? WE own the ropes, do we?
-Lizzie, Lizzie, if Finn had've

listened to me, you wouldn't have
known.

When we go home, I'll explain.

I can't be bothered
with this shit.

So...

...Tommy Shelby MP.
Business as usual.

The strategy I outlined earlier

to rebuild the conventional part
of this business will take time.

-In the meantime...
-Just business as fucking usual.

In the meantime, it is fortunate
that we have maintained

other sources of cash income.

Because until the stock market
recovers, cash is king.

And cash we have.

No-one is gonna hang you, Tommy.

You're gonna hang yourself.

Someone has to pay for them
paintings on your wall, Ada.

Yeah, bye-bye, Ada.

Tommy, you need to go easy on Ada.

Polly...

...when am I ever
not easy on Ada, eh?

Thomas, the thing is, Ada...

She's pregnant.

Ada's what?!

These days, people tell me things
without even speaking.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Ada's fucking pregnant? Hmm?

And, Polly, you need to reassure Ada
that it's 1929, times have changed,

we've a lot to do, and no-one gives
a fuck who the father is.

Really?

I already know who the father is.

But we've had
enough shocks for one day.

OK.

All right, go on, then.

How long you known about Ada, huh?

I know her doctor. He calls me.

Yeah, longer than me.

Have a look at this.

What's that funny writing on there?

Chinese.

Ah, right.

What is it? Hmm?

Bad news?

Maybe.

-Angels of Retribution?
-Yeah.

Burn the letter they sent.

It's already done.

Look at that, Tom. Hmm?

Pulled from our brother, eh?

Finally took a first bullet.

No-one fucking listens to me.

Here, give it here.
I'll keep it for him.

I still have my first one.

Arthur, you can tell our comrades
they can come back in.

Where are you going, brother?

The huge losses
on the British Stock Exchange

will bite into our economy
for the foreseeable future.

I therefore must ask the trade
unions to possess understanding.

The need for their flexibility
and cooperation is paramount

in the coming months as we attempt
to rebuild this great nation.

Mr Thomas Shelby.

Thank you, Mr Speaker.

My right honourable friend,
the member for Epping,

asks that following the crash,

trade union members be more flexible
when carrying out their duties.

What he's really asking is that the
working man carry the can.

The grand casino in Monte Carlo
is a small and timid affair

when compared to the wild games of

chance being played
in London and New York

by gamblers in silk gloves and

beaver hats, who,
when they lose their bets,

turn around and ask the shoe-shine
to pay for it.

Well, on behalf of the shoe-shines
and can carriers of South Birmingham

and all across Great Britain,
I would suggest

that those who so recklessly lost

their fortunes
on the capitalist lottery

learn to shine their own shoes...

...carry their own can
and pay their own bills.

Mr Shelby?

I just wanted to say
how much I enjoyed your speech.

You speak very eloquently.

Thank you.

My name's Mosley, by the way.
Oswald Mosley.

Yeah, I know who you are.

My constituency borders yours.

And let me just say,
you've come to my attention.

Come.

Ah.

I have bad news, Mr...

Shelby.

We agreed 50,000
on completion of business.

My wife and I have had a misfortune
on the London Exchange.

There's 20 there.

You'll have to wait for the rest.

-Cavalry, eh?
-Mm.

Huh!

Yeah.

I spent a long of time
waiting for the cavalry, me.

One time, me and my comrades
waited three days.

When the cavalry finally came,

an officer,
on the back of a fine white horse,

joked that he'd been delayed
playing a game of whist.

So I took out my Webley revolver
and I shot him in the head,

stole his horse,
reported him for cowardice.

All for a game of chance.

After my people completed their task
in Chinatown,

they collected all the photographs,
letters and cheques

that will cause you concern.

I now have them in a safe place.

On Monday you will give me
the full £50,000 in cash...

...or I will steal your
white horse from under you.

How the fuck did a man like you
get into a position of trust

in a place of power and privilege?!

A man like me?

A man like me?

Lord Suckerby...

..I've seen the photographs.

Monday.

Shelby!

Sorry I'm late, Ada.

We've been having briefings
from the Home Office.

The police are concerned about the effect
of the crash in industrial areas.

-Right.
-Everything all right?

Yeah, fine.

We lost money in New York,
so I've been up late.

Your brother been busy?

Er, he's had two meetings with
Mr Shapurji Saklatvala,

the former Communist MP
for Battersea.

He's been approached
by an anarchist group in Walsall -

he's setting up a meeting -
and there's talk of a mass walk-out

of bus drivers, Nottingham and
Derby, organised by two Communist

convenors not formerly known to
Special Branch.

He's also had a telephone
conversation with Jessie Eden,

who is organising a committee
to resist wage cuts across the city.

But he'll report more when he sees
her. It's all in there, though.

Names and everything.

I heard he had the Labour benches
roaring approval in the House today.

Huh. If only he meant it,
he'd be dangerous.

Didn't know you drank stout, Ada.
Thought it was gin.

Times are hard.

Hmm.

Exactly how much did you lose?

Don't worry about it.
Tommy has a plan.

He thinks that we can turn the

collapse of the stock exchange to
our advantage.

He says, "When others retreat,
you advance."

He says, "We can wave cash in the
faces of desperate men."

Tell your brother from me,
he's doing excellent work.

I'm told two more military contracts
for vehicles

and parts for the Army in India
are on their way to him.

Fuck.

Come.

Mr Shelby,
this arrived from New York.

It's from Winston Churchill.

He says he was in New York
and had dinner with Charlie Chaplin,

and Chaplin mentioned your name.

So he was in New York
and he doesn't mention the crash.

No. Even though, in the bar last
night, Mr Churchill's private

secretary reckoned he
lost £75,000 in two hours.

And you?

Were you affected, Mr Shelby?

I'm going to my apartment, Adam.

You lock up.

Sorry, Mr Shelby, you...
you have one more appointment.

You set it yourself.
It's in the diary from last week.

A journalist from the Times.

He used to be with
the Birmingham Mail.

He sent you some questions.

You said you wanted to meet him.

He's outside.

Yes.

Send him in.

Mr Shelby?
Mr Levitt from the London Times.

Have a seat.

Adam, you go home, I'll lock up.

Mr Shelby, do you remember me?

No.

Once, in Small Heath, you were
burning photographs of the King.

-London Times. You've done well.
-As have you, sir, to put it mildly.

I sent you a list of questions.

Yeah, I misplaced them.

-Yeah, well, you have a lot on your plate.
-Yes.

All I remember is
that your questions interested me.

Oh!

Good.

Sorry, just...

Ah, here we are.

Yes, um...

Um... So, Mr Shelby,
traditionally in this country,

print journalists take no interest

in the, er,
the private lives of politicians.

Private lives?

But in these modern times,
especially in America...

...journalists are beginning to...
Well, that is to say, yes, um...

Readers are beginning to say...

..want to know more about the men
who represent them.

Of course.

In these modern times.

Whereas before it would have
been seen as ungentlemanly to, er,

to ask a public figure questions
about personal matters

-or business affairs...
-Oh, well. No need to worry.

I'm no gentleman.

Hmm.

Er, Mr Shelby,
as I said in my letter,

ten years ago I was a journalist
on the Birmingham Evening Mail.

And of course, working in that city,

it was impossible
not to know your name...

..and your reputation.

So, when I saw that you
had been elected as a socialist...

You reflected on the fact

that working people can indeed
change their lives for the better...

...channel their abilities in new
directions, discover better methods,

aim for happier outcomes,

even win awards for industry.

You can write this down, Mr Levitt.

The question I have for you,
Mr Shelby, is this.

Was your conversion from
bookmaker to socialist politician

a gradual thing or...

..a road to Damascus experience?

Yeah.

Now I hear that question...

..I remember receiving your letters

and I distinctly remember your use
of the word "bookmaker".

-Were you not a bookmaker, sir?
-Yes.

I gained a licence
in 1919 for on-track betting.

But, since 1923, I've made my

fortune in the manufacture, sale and
export of motor cars.

And lately gin.

And lately three new homes
for orphaned children.

You can write all this down,
Mr Levitt.

I have another question, Mr Shelby.

In Birmingham,
at the time that I was there,

there was a Major Campbell.

He was found dead.

A member of your family was charged.

Right, you answer me this.
Answer me this.

What is your Tory newspaper
more afraid of?

Is it evolution or revolution?

And what is it about
working-class men like me,

standing up in the House of Commons
and speaking from the heart,

what is it that so troubles you
that you would try to undermine me?

-I am talking about specific events, sir.
-Which I don't recall...

...with which I was never
personally linked,

and after which
all convictions were quashed.

Yeah, now...

..I recall receiving your letter...

..and I recall that when I did...

..I asked a colleague of mine
to carry out some research.

Just a moment.

Here we are.

Ah, Michael Levitt.

Correct?

-Yes.
-Yes.

Journalist.

Unmarried.

An apartment in Maida Vale.

An apartment opposite
the underground station.

"Unmarried" is underlined.

Mr Levitt enjoys walks in the park.

Sometimes alone.

Sometimes not alone.

Sometimes with other men.

Sometimes with other men.

I'm old-fashioned...Michael.

I believe private lives
should remain private.

Not everything modern is good,
now, is it?

You gonna write this down...

...in your little fucking book?

Well?

Not yet.

I didn't tell him.

Him knowing or not knowing has no
relevance to what we're drinking.

It's vintage.

Fuck it.

This...

..is for us.

Let's drink to the baby.

Polly, do you remember
when I was last pregnant?

You were going to take me to
Cardiff.

I was going to get rid of it.

What about this time?

Imagine.

The father's scared.

He runs away.

You're left.

Oh, sweetheart.

The baby's black,

he's a bastard and it's Birmingham.

But you don't care.

Because the world has changed.

And the baby's eyes are golden.

And you're gonna leave her with

Aunt Polly every day to look after.

Aunt Polly, who insisted
that you called her Elizabeth.

How do you know it's a her?

Cos I'm Polly Gray.

It's a girl?

Golden.

To be born in the year 1930,

where everything will be changed
for the better.

She'll be the colour
of a Hollywood Oscar.

What will Tommy say?

Tommy knows.

Hmm!

He's also seen that the world's

big and round and
he says, "So what?"

Tommy is right, you know, Ada.

We are flying above the rules now.

We're bold people, aren't we, Polly?

That's the beauty.

Hello, Cyril.

Least you're still talking to me.

Where is everyone?

Your wife is upstairs with Ruby.

You know, Frances, if there were to

be a snap election
in this house today...

...wouldn't win it...

..not even if I were running
against the devil himself.

-No. I gathered.
-Mm.

Where's Charles?

Charles is in the stable.

Thank you.

Did Arthur explain?

He said it's God's will.

But you're not God!

No, I'm not God.

Not yet.