Penny Dreadful: City of Angels

Previously on Penny Dreadful:

City of Angels.

Sister Molly was fucking Hazlett.

You don't know that.

Take the valise. You run it down

and tell me I'm wrong.

My boy Tom is having a birthday party

this Sunday. Bring Frank,

and he will have friends. Do say you'll come, yeah?

No, no.

Councilwoman Beck's opened fire

on me and the motorway.

We need to do something about her.

Really, sir, your audacity is truly as Herculean

as your appetite.

You know what he'll do now.

Let him sneak a chocolate malt.

If it were only a malt.

You need to conclude the Hazlett case.

You want us to conclude the Hazlett case,

not solve it?

That is entirely correct.

What are you crying about?

Officer Reilly.

I never seen anything like it.

He was so smooth.

Brother, when are we gonna get active?

We have to fight.

First we make them look.

Then we make them scared.

men talking in Hebrew

Get back! Get back!

What the fuck?

It's got nothing to do with you.

You cuffed him to a chair?

Cocksucker tried to bite me.

Stay away from him, or I'll fucking kill you!

Detective! My office.

Reilly, put him back in the pen,

and get the blood off him. Jesus Christ.

Are we arresting every goddamn Chicano in the city?

You want me to go into the cells?

Sit down and shut up.

Close the door.

Look at them, Detective.

I've seen them.

Look at them.

What are the kids' names?

- Detect-- - Steve and Marion.

Steve's about the same age

as that boy you had cuffed to a chair.

Officer Reilly was interrogating a suspect,

and he'll go on doing that

till he gets someone to confess.

What the hell are you doing, Detective?

Lewis said Hazlett might have been cooking the books,

shacking up with some gal in a love nest, right?

I'm running it down.

When's Lewis back?

Couple of days, he said.

Oh, Jesus, you two.

Work the case.

Give me something, Tiago.

Will you stop the interrogations?

Give me a reason to.

Go do your job. Dismissed.

So I'm pleased to report

that Via Hermosa Development has agreed

to take over the construction of the motorway

at no additional cost.

We should be able to break ground

as soon as the full City Council

votes next month.

I expect the Council will approve

our recommendations in full

because they understand

the Maynard West Memorial Motorway

will begin the process of healing this city

and will be a legacy of which we can all be proud.

Now, if there's nothing else...

Point of order, Mr. Chairman.

Councilwoman Beck?

You know what's interesting?

I took a little drive out to Belvedere Heights

the other day, stretch my legs a bit,

and something sort of struck me.

Ken, if you will.

Now, you all recognize this line here.

That's the route of the motorway.

But I talked to some engineers,

put some questions to them,

and those clever gentlemen came up with this.

As you can see, this route

entirely bypasses Belvedere Heights

and goes through the hills here,

the hills where no one lives

but a few coyotes and jackrabbits,

none of whom vote.

Now, I'll grant you this.

It'll add about four minutes

to the drive to Pasadena. Four minutes.

But if our goal is truly to heal this city,

as you said, Mr. Chairman,

I can't imagine those four minutes

will make much of a difference.

Don't you agree?

And after speaking with my many old friends

on the City Council and in the mayor's office,

I can assure you, they also agree.

Sir, we can fight this, put our own engineers--

Cancel my speech tonight.

Oh, we can't cancel this evening, sir. We need--

Do what I tell you, woman!

This Nazi-- I know he killed them.

I just can't prove it yet.

So what do you do now about Anton and Sam?

I talk...

to Benny Berman.

This doesn't surprise you?

You know who was president when I was born?

Ulysses S. Grant.

Not a lot surprises me.

But this is a gangster you're talking about.

- He's a Jew. - You better hope

he's a good Jew.

This is about a lot more than Anton and Sam now.

These Germans...

It's terrible, what I know.

I need help.

You got me.

I know.

Lewis,

this Benny Berman--

you be careful.

At my age, I can't afford to lose any more friends.

No, no, no, no.

That is Old World, 19th-century thinking.

The Bund has to get on the radio.

We can make as many speeches as we want in Pershing Square.

Who hears us? A handful.

We get on the radio, who hears us?

Everyone, all at once.

The Jews own the radio.

Not the Catholic stations. We talk to them.

We talk to the Episcopals. We talk to the Baptists.

We talk to that woman with the temple.

So now you have us working with a radio show cult, huh?

With the devil himself,

if he will give us a microphone.

You will excuse me.

So pleased you could come.

Yeah, you're good to ask us.

You have a beautiful home. My heavens.

Oh, yeah. Thank you, yeah.

Hey, Frank.

- Hello. - Come on over.

We've got a piñata.

- May I? - Have fun.

That smile I've not seen in too long.

We did not know what gift to bring for your Tom.

I made a cake, and I left it inside

with the Mexican woman,

but you have so much food already.

You didn't need to bring anything.

I left Frank's sleeping bag inside as well.

Ah, good. Yeah, he'll have fun tonight.

I won't let them stay up too late.

Don't worry.

Where's the fun in that?

I should perhaps meet Mrs. Craft, ja?

And who now is this?

You keep her hidden, Herr Peter.

Uh, Mrs. Elsa Branson,

may I present Mr. Herman Ackermann.

speaking German

It is a pleasure, Mr. Ackermann.

Wait, wait, let me guess.

The accent is Berlin, ja?

But I can do better.

We don't need your party trick now.

No, please, tell me who I am.

Now I have it. Kreuzberg.

With the artists you lived, ja?

Ja. That's wunderbar.

It's marvelous.

You are a Berliner?

Grunewald, born and bred.

Now walk with me and tell me everything about yourself.

No. Uh...

She must meet the other fellows.

Uh, you will like them.

We're, um, sort of a...political club.

Oh, I'm not much for politics.

That's okay; they also drink beer and sing and...

speaking German

Yes, typical Bayerische, huh?

You have turned Dr. Craft's pretty backyard

into a beer hall, gentlemen.

Away from their wives.

Ah, you're not married.