Miller's Crossing

I'm talking about friendship.

I'm talking about character. I'm talking about...

Hell, Leo, I ain't embarrassed to use the word. I'm talking about ethics.

You know I'm a sporting man. I like to lay the occasional bet.

But I ain't that sporting.

When I fix a fight, say I pay a 3-to-1 favorite to throw a fight,

I got the right to expect that fight to go off at 3-to-1 .

But when I bet with this son of a bitch Bernie Bernbaum,

before I know it, the odds even up.

Or, I'm betting on the short money. The sheeny knows I like sure things.

He's selling the information I fixed the fight.

Out-of-town money pours in. The odds go straight to hell.

I don't know who he's selling to, maybe the Los Angeles combine.

Bernie ain't satisfied with the honest dollar he can make off the vig,

or the business I do on his book. He is selling tips on how I bet.

So part of the payoff that should ride on my hip rides on someone else's.

So back we go to these questions.

Friendship.

Character.

Ethics.

So it's clear what I'm saying?

As mud.

It's getting so a businessman can't expect no return from a fixed fight.

Now if you can't trust a fix, what can you trust?

For a good return, you gotta bet on chance.

Then you're back with anarchy. Right back in the jungle.

That's why ethics is important. What separates us from the animals,

the beasts of burden, beasts of prey, ethics.

Whereas Bernie Bernbaum is a horse of a different color, ethics-wise.

As in, he ain't got any.

-You sure it's Bernie selling you out? -It ain't elves.

-No one else knows about the fix? -No one without ethics.

What about the fighters that tank out? -We only pick those we can threaten.

Any other bookies know? You play anyone else's book?

-I sometimes bet with Mink Larouie. -It ain't Mink.

How do you know? -It ain't Mink. He's Eddie Dane's boy.

Of course. The Dane always knows about the fix.

What the hell does that mean?

Let it drift. It means a lot of people know.

I guess you ain't been listening. Sure, other people know.

That's why we question character to determine who's chiseling in on my fix.

And that's how we know it's Bernie Bernbaum, the Shmatte Kid.

Because ethically, he's kind of shaky.

So you wanna kill him.

For starters.

Sorry, Caspar. Bernie pays for protection.

Leo, I ain't asking for permission. I'm telling you as a courtesy.

-It's gonna get done. -You'll have trouble.

You came to see if I'd kick if you killed Bernie. There's your answer.

I pay off to you every month like a greengrocer,

more than the Shmatte, and I'm getting the high-hat!

You pay off for protection, like everyone else.

Far as I know, the cops haven't closed your dives,

and the DA hasn't touched any of your rackets.

You haven't bought a license to kill bookies. I ain't selling any.

So take your flunky and dangle.

I'm not some guinea fresh off the boat you can kick.

I'm too big now. I'm sick of taking the strap from you.

I'm sick of marching in here to kiss your Irish ass!

And I'm sick of the high-hat!

You's fancy-pants, all of youse.

Johnny, you're exactly as big as I let you be and no bigger,

and don't forget it. Ever.

That's right, Leo. You're the big shot around here.

And I'm just some schnook likes to get slapped around.

Twist a pig's ear, watch him squeal.

Bad play, Leo.

-You got up the wrong side, huh? -Same side as always.

That's what I mean. Still owe Lazarre money?

-I could put it right for you. -I don't need it.

You haven't played a winner in weeks. People'll talk if he breaks your legs.

-People'll say I had it coming. -They'll be right.

Call me a big-hearted slob, but I'll square it.

I think I'll do that this very same night.

Looking at you moping around takes away my... What do you call it?

-Joy de veever? -Joie de vivre.

-If you laugh at me, the hell with you. -The hell with you.

I'll square myself with Lazarre. That's why God invented cards.

-There's one thing you can do. -Name it.

Think about what protecting Bernie gets us and what offending Caspar loses us.

-You know I don't like to think. -Yeah.

Well, think about whether you should start.

Wake up, Tommy.

I am awake.

Your eyes are shut. -Who you gonna believe?

-How'd I do? -What do you think?

You are a millionaire. You gonna remember your friends?

-Where's me hat? -You bet it, mug.

Good thing the game broke up before you bet your trousers.

-Who made off with me hat? -Verna. Verna and Mink.

-Who? -Mink and Verna.

-Is Thunderclap running tonight? -Thunderclap?

-Yeah. -What's she leaving at?

3-to-1 , more than likely.

Lay off, Tom. You shouldn't go deeper in the hole.

Tell Lazarre I want 500 on the nose.

You would have it.

I want me hat.

Is that all you came for?

Yeah. I want me hat.

It's mine. I won it.

-What are you gonna do with it? -Drop dead.

I need a drink.

Why didn't you say so?

Hello, Tommy. Sorry about the hour.

I'll live. What's the rumpus?

Can I come in?

Sure.

Drink? I wouldn't mind.

-I tried calling earlier. -I got home late.

-Well, I'm sorry about the hour. -Uh-huh.

Not bad.

-Better than the paint we sell. -That it is. That it is.

-You thought about cutting Bernie loose? -Can't do it, Tommy.

That's sort of why I'm...

-Tommy, I don't know where Verna is. -Uh-huh.

I know you're thinking, "What's new?"

-But the situation now, I'm worried. -She can take care of herself.

-Maybe better than you can. -What does that mean?

Want another one?

No.

What does that mean?

-How far has she got her hooks into you? -That's a hell of a question.

It's a grift. If she didn't need you to protect her brother from Caspar,

you think she'd take slow carriage rides with you?

That's the deal, isn't it? You protect Bernie till Caspar cools down?

You're a prickly pear.

-What's wrong with that? -Nothing. I don't blame her.

She sees the angle, you, she plays it. She's a grifter, just like her brother.

From grifter parents and grandparents. They'll spawn grifter kids.

Stop it. I don't like to hear my friends run down.

-Friendship has nothing to do with it. -You'd do anything to help friends.

Wrong, Leo. You do things for a reason.

You know all the angles. Christ, better than anybody.

Maybe you're wrong about this. You don't know what's in her heart.

If she's such an angel, why are you looking for her at 4:00 a.m.?

-I put a tail on her this afternoon. -Uh-huh.

I asked Rug Daniels to follow her around.

To keep her out of trouble. Wasn't to spy.

I was worried. With Caspar, you can't be too careful.

What did Rug say?

That's just it. Nothing. He's disappeared.

So you've lost your lady friend and her tail?

I guess it sounds pretty sorry.

Help me out. I don't know where to look.

You know Rug's crowd and Verna's.

I'm worried, with the way things are with Caspar.

You shouldn't be confronting Caspar. You can't trade body blows with him.

I reckon I can still trade body blows with any man in this town.

Except you, Tom.

And Verna.

Okay, give me the needle.

I am a sap.

I deserve it.

Thanks for the drink.

Let me know if you hear anything.

Who was that?

Leo.

He's looking for you.

Did you tell him I was here?

No.

Did you put in a good word for my brother?

No.

-You said you would. -I said I'd think about it.

What did you tell him?

-Did you see Rug Daniels last night? -No.

What did you tell Leo?

I told him you were a tramp and he should dump you.

You're a son of a bitch, Tom.

-What's the rumpus? -Mink.

-You got your hat back. -What of it?

Nothing. It ain't my business. Bernie wants to see you.

-I'm not made of glass. -He's nervous in public.

He's nervous. In the spot he's in, who wouldn't be?

He wants you to ask Leo to watch him. Leo listens to you.

Not that Leo wouldn't help the Shmatte anyway.

-I don't get it. -What's to get?

-You're Dane's sycophant. -I can have more than one friend.

I don't want Dane to know, but a guy like Bernie?

For a sheeny, he has good qualities.

What's going on with you and Bernie?

Nothing. We're friends. You know, amigos.

You're a fickle boy, Mink.

If Eddie Dane finds out you got another amigo,

-I doubt he's the understanding type. -How's he gonna find out?

Damn it, Tom. You and me ain't even been talking! Jesus!

Hello, Tommy.

You know O'Doole and the mayor.

I ought to. I voted for him six times last May.

And that ain't the record either.

Verna turned up. She's downstairs.

-She say where she been? -No. I didn't press her.

-You hear about Rug? -Yeah, R.I.P.

They took his hair. Jesus, that's strange. Why would they do that?

Maybe it was Injuns.

Eyties, more like it.

Giovanni Casparro.

So you figure Caspar bumped Rug?

-It's pretty obvious, ain't it? -Yeah? So, what's the plan?

Jump on the guinea with both feet. Give him the lowdown.