Boardwalk Empire

-(FOOTSTEPS) -(MAN BREATHING HEAVILY)

-(DOG BARKING) -(BABY CRYING)

It's Jake Guzik.

Set your watch by the Capones.

Twenty, right on time. Here you go.

The vig comes to...

Twenty-five, yeah. Yeah. You break a saw?

Enoch "Nucky" Thompson, former treasurer of Atlantic City.

His brother Eli, Nucky's number two, also the former sheriff until he went to jail.

Michael "Mickey Doyle" née Cusick, runs Thompson's liquor operations.

At least partly.

Laszlo "Lolly" Steinman is in charge of the racing wire and other gambling.

Nucky? Mickey? Lolly?

- Where's Flopsy and Mopsy? -(MEN LAUGH)

These men are murderers, gentlemen.

Yes, sir.

This details one local operation.

A criminal enterprise with ties to others throughout the country.

You're proposing there's a nationwide conspiracy?

It's all right here, Edgar.

These cities are almost wholly run by criminal overlords,

each with ties to one another.

Waxey Gordon in Philadelphia. King Solomon in Boston.

John Torrio in Chicago.

Within the last month,

Nucky Thompson was visited by Arnold Rothstein

and Joe Masseria, down from New York City.

Our op in Chicago places Torrio in Atlantic City on November 6, last.

- Our op? - Agent, sir.

So? Criminals have friends like everyone else.

Until you can prove conspiracy, you have nothing.

You want proof? I'll get it.

How do you propose to do that?

I'll find the weakest link in Thompson's chain and I'll break it.

I'll take a ham sandwich and a beer.

Get me more Mecca for my neck.

I'm still peeling from the sunburn.

I will have Tom do it as soon as he returns.

Are your legs broken?

I have business to attend to.

Three deposits before the banks close.

Right. Right.

Where's Tom?

He's on his way back with Mr. Rothstein from the train station.

Make sure you...

Make sure Tom gets milk and cake. Whatever Rothstein needs.

I want him receptive to this offer.

I thought you were in a hurry.

The deposits while you were in Tampa.

For you to confirm the dates and balances.

You have my every confidence.

Wait.

From the Chelsea branch, take out $10,000 and meet the Broadway Limited at 5:20.

- And then? - Hop aboard. See the world.

Don't they have jokes in Germany?

Put a white carnation in your right lapel.

White, not red.

A man will approach you.

Ask if you have a package for Mr. Brown.

Give him the cash and only him.

5:20, Mr. Brown.

Can you handle this?

I will protect it with my life.

Don't be so dramatic. It's only money.

- Mr. White. -(PIANO STOPS)

Miss Maitland.

Enjoying the show so far?

Your man there can play.

Lastlchecked, there was a singer up there with him.

Got no complaints.

No compliments, either.

You just go on singing to the folks need to hear you.

I've been waiting to talk to you.

It's my mama. She's sick.

Sorry to hear that.

May be pertussis or consumption.

Can't say, but she asking for me.

- You got somebody to make your collects? - My boy is up on it.

Be back from Baltimore in two days. If it's all right with you.

You got family to tend to, go and tend to them.

Eat that, Wyatt Earp.

Set me up again, Mueller.

Five-spot says it takes you both barrels.

Oh, I'll take your money.

I bagged four Filthy-pines, summer of aught-one.

Oh, that so?

Ah, fuck! I'm shot!

Did you... Did you...

- The fuck? -"I bagged four Filthy-pines," he says.

I can't see. I'm blind.

Oh, I'm gonna piss myself. Mueller, help him up there.

- Jesus Christ, Deano. - It's a little dirt. It was just a gag.

I could have lost a fucking eye.

I said it was a gag. You want me getting sore?

No. Sure, yeah. What you said.

I missed it? God damn it.

Delivery down St. Luke's. One of the Capones.

- Al or Frank? - That bloater makes their collections.

- Bad ticker. - Shame.

Like to make a nice wreath for one of them guineas.

I'm gonna maybe go lay down in the truck.

Hey, get that beer over to Schultzie's first.

George, toss some daisies together. The day-olds. Hoof 'em up to the hospital.

Honestly, I'd prefer to avoid the Capones.

Last time I got this.

They don't soak in, you know.

- I'm awake. - You actually have to read them.

Thank your mother.

“Tess of the De-erber“?

Beats me.

200 bucks a semester, beats me?

Your mother said you've been walking around with your bottom lip on the floor.

What gives?

- Nothing. - Bull.

- Grades? - They're okay.

- One letter home, I find out. - They're okay.

Good at chemistry.

What, then? A girl?

I'm just not happy there, okay?

Happy?

You're there to get an education. You think I'm happy?

It's just these kids are a bunch of stuck-up jerks.

You're 3 Thompson.

Who are they?

Philadelphia mostly. New York.

Met one other kid from Atlantic City and he dropped out.

Yeah, well, you're the only boy from Atlantic City

anybody needs to know.

Remember that.

You're there to make something of yourself.

For your mother.

I'm trying, okay?

Try harder.

I don't want to hear this nonsense again.

You got broad shoulders.

Remember why you're there and do what you have to do.

They call this food?

I'm hungry. - You're always fucking hungry.

This shit will kill you soon as a bullet.

Just some ricotta and white sauce to settle your stomach, huh?

Thanks, fellas.

Next time, tell that lazy bastard to come down the street to pay you, huh?

I'll be out in a week.

I only missed three pickups.

You get your strength back.

I'm gonna slip one of these nurses a fin.

Get you 3 Nos “me sponge bath.

Make it a couple of nurses.

- There's a lot of Jake to sponge down. -(LAUGHS)

When was the last time we did a pickup?

Me and you?

Brooklyn.

Frankie Yale, back when we was Five Points.

- That guy with the wooden teeth. -(LAUGHS)

I still got fucking splinters.

So how about it, huh? You and me.

We finish Jake's collections.

Sure. Why not?

Oh!

Who sent for the undertaker?

Hello. These are the flowers you ordered.

What? This is the shit he sends?

I got weeds under my porch nicer than these.

See that? They don't even stand up.

Mr. O'Banion meant no disrespect.

The man's sick. How else is he supposed to take it, huh?

If you'd prefer some begonias...

See? This is what your soft-soap gets us with O'Banion.

How's the melon?

I suppose it could have been worse.

Yeah, you're right. Could have been me.

So, Deano, he misses us?

You know Mr. O'Banion. Always jocular.

I heard he opened two new speaks down on the Gold Coast.

Hmm.

Well, I'm sure Mr. Guzik needs his rest.

Hey, where you going? We're talking.

Mr. O'Banion is waiting.

He can wait.

Huh?

See? Watch.

Fourteen thousand acres, 70 bucks per.

It's my understanding that Florida real estate is played out.

Except we're not buying land, we're buying opportunity.

Think Frisco in '48.

Gold, Nucky?

Better. We've got water on three sides half a mile from the Atlantic Coast rail line.

A trawler can reach The Bahamas in 22 hours.

- Havana in 28. - Rum.

The best in the world, straight from the islands.

McCoy and his boats take it straight up the coast to port in Atlantic City.

- Or New York. - And reload with our whiskey.

A spirit in tragically short supply down there.

- Competition? None of any consequence.

As long as we act now, plant our flag.

Time those hayseeds figure out what we're working, we'll be in clover.

And our friends a bit closer to home?

Masseria won't go past Brooklyn.

What I require is a partner with a level head.

Not to mention a half million dollars.