All language subtitles for Boardwalk.empire.S03E10.Blu-ray.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

To all swimmers, bathers,

sailors, landlubbers,

mermaids, sea serpents,
and other creatures of the deep,

I, King Neptune, offer greetings.

As ruler of the Seven Seas,

lord of the boundless waves,

high constable of the coral caverns

and uttermost recesses of the depths,

I invite you to feast your eyes
on my spellbinding sirens

and surrender to the allure
of seaside enchantment.

To forget about life's stormy seas,

shipwrecks, and typhoons.

This morning, I unlock the joys of summer

and invite the denizens of Atlantic City
to frolic in the spume and bubble

of my watery depths.

For the next 12 weeks,
I command you...

What the heck is this?
Must have fell off a boat.

Whiskey!

Look at this!

Forget about life's
stormy seas...

- I can't believe this!
- Whiskey!

WOMAN 21 Whiskey!

Why is everyone yelling?

Maybe it's a sea serpent.

...and typhoons.

Enjoy the pleasures of summer and...

Should I continue?

Just blow the fucking trumpets
and leave it at that.

Very mayoral, Ed.

Come on, load 'em up. Let's go.

- My back is killing me.
- I got these three.

A dozen fucking crates.

- Two, it was more like two.
- Are you sure?

Why not three? Or fuckin' 12?

Two, it was two dozen, Gyp.

I want to see this pompinaio captain.

He said it was crazy out there last night.

- The waves were coming out every which way.
- It's a fuckin' ocean, Tonino,

doing what it's supposed to!
Why the fuck ain't he?

Could've been rogue waves.

What?

My cousin Franco. He's new.

Whole side of the family is fuckin' yammerers.

Tell me about these waves.

- Well, actually...
- He don't know shit.

Worked on my uncle's fishing boat
when he was a kid, so he thinks he knows...

Say what you're gonna say.

Nothing.
It's just sometimes when the wind shifts,

waves crash into each other
from different directions.

And when they do, they make giant waves.

It's easy to lose cargo
if it's not strapped down.

Your father was a fisherman, huh?

- All his life.
- Well, how come you don't know this shit?

- Well, I didn't...
- His father was your uncle, right?

All right,
this car is all filled up.

- All right. Let it go.
- ...bring two here.

All right, we're gonna
move it out, fellas. Let's go.

Fuckin' Sinbad over here.

- Good morning, sir.
- No peddlers.

- I'd like a moment...
- Oh, go away. I not buy nothing.

What's your name, friend?

My name is "I Not Buy Nothing."

Not even a taste of the homeland?

Aquavit.

Perhaps you'd like to discuss this in back?

This from Norway?

Cicero, but it's made by a real Norwegian.

- You no sound like you from Norway.
- My wife.

May I?

Ah, it's good.

Six dollars a bottle.

You give four to me, I give 20?

Very well.

You come back later, yeah?
I have more money and I buy more.

Later, yes.

Thank you.

You did not drink your powder.

Gaston Means.

He is on the line.

- I'm not to be disturbed. Is that clear?
- Yeah.

I'll begin the discussion,
then, shall I?

A certain individual has manifested
every sign of erratic behavior.

Jess Smith is Harry Daugherty's problem.

In my estimation,
the Attorney General is rather

perfectly suspended between
the bonds of loyalty

and the need for self-preservation.

- So let the son of a bitch hang there.
- Yes, indeed.

But in the meanwhile, the likelihood is high

that Jess will say anything to anybody
regarding everyone he's ever met.

Such is the nature of hysterics.

Your name would be on that list,

as I'm sure you've considered.

So would yours.

- Would it be difficult?
- Mr. Smith?

Some finesse would be required.

Fortunately, I have experience
in these matters.

What does that cost?

Forty thousand.

Are you there?

There are men who would do it for $10.

And you're free to hire them.

I hope you don't choose
a surgeon on the same basis.

In both cases the outcome
can be unexpectedly messy.

You'll get paid when I see the results.

Why are you leaving so early?

The Thompsons are expecting me.

Margaret, you mean.

I'm not a monkfish, Katy.

I'll not take your bait.

I was just wondering if Mr. Thompson knows
his wife fancies the help.

We've been through this at great length.

I heard you the other day on the phone.

- I'm only doing my job.
- Right.

Maybe she needed your help removing a pea
from under her mattress.

Stop filling your head with foolish notions.

Then prove me a fool.

I'd be happy to...

At the altar.

Really?

We'll discuss it later.

Mr. Sleater, good morning.

Mrs. Thompson.

Mr. Kessler.

Is something wrong?

No, I just...

You come bearing secrets.

Nothing as fancy as that, I'm afraid.

What do you think, Mr. Kessler?

I... I do not understand.

Then I suppose
you need to come clean.

It's...

It's Katy's birthday tomorrow,

and I'll be damned if I know what to give her.

And truly be damned I choose wrong.

A woman's touch.

I'm at your mercy, missus.

Well, let's discuss the possibilities.

You can bring the car around.
I'll be down shortly.

Yes, ma'am.

You shouldn't toy with him.

He sees more than you think.

He's only seen us talking.

And soon, he won't see us at all.

If we botch this, he'll find out.

Mr. Kessler?

Mr. Thompson.

You'll need to leave first. I'll follow after.

When?

Can't say. Six weeks.

A month.

Why so long?

We leave together, then he knows.

And he won't forget.
And there's no place far enough then.

What's St. Louis like?

I haven't a clue.

But Emmet's a mate from years back.

He'll set us on our feet.

And if it doesn't suit us, we'll...

We'll live among the Indians.

Aye. Or give it a go at least.

And Katy?

I'll leave one morning,

tell her something that sounds convincing,
and she'll never see me again.

"A man, a plan,

"a canal, Panama."

What are you yammering about?

- It's a palindrome.
- A what?

A word or phrase spelled
exactly the same backwards or forwards.

Like "mom."

Or imbecile.

- Well, no, that's not...
- Where the hell is Owen?

I'll go see.

"A man, a plan..." What is it?

"A man, a plan, a canal..."

I have a fucking headache!

I'll tell you later.

Sorry I'm late.

Fill him in.

Heard back from my contact in New York.

Masseria goes
to the Turkish baths every Thursday,

same time every week, 9:00 p.m.

That might work.

Some place on Chrystie Street.

Popular with the locals.

Steamy, dark, people distracted.

Come up from behind, nice and quiet.

They got the mineral baths?

Is that fucking important?

He's keeping tabs on Masseria all day.

I'll go with you as backup.

No, you won't. You're going to Chicago.

- What the hell's in Chicago?
- Johnny Torrio,

and with any luck,
an army of men who'll help us out.

With Masseria gone, we'll take Rosetti out.

He'll be weak without Masseria's backing.

So all that extra muscle
will fall by the wayside.

- Rats leaving a sinking ship.
- We'll still need help.

You pack your bags, too.

Tell me I'm going to Paris.

West Overton, Pennsylvania.

You'll be met at the station
by a man named Fahey.

- He'll take you to the Overholt Distillery.
- Andrew Mellon's place.

What do I do when I get there?

Get it up and running
as soon as possible.

We're taking over Remus' old operation,
using Overholt as a base.

We can export to Chicago
or New York straight from there.

That'd take some money, won't it?

We'll take the train to New York,
avoid Tabor Heights.

And who else with you?

Agent Sawicki will be enough.

I'll flash my badge,

distract Masseria's bodyguard.

And give me time to do my business.

It's not that I doubt your ability,
I just saw this as a bigger operation.

More men, more chance for mistakes.

This job doesn't call for an army,
just patience and opportunity.

Don't you have valises to pack?

Booze is our backbone.

But sooner or later, this mishegoss
will go the way of the ostrich feather.

Yiddish, Meyer?

I can't think of a more obvious route
to my acquiescence than shared commonality.

How about a good idea?

A.R., you're the one who always said
to look where no one else is.

That's what this deal is.

Fifty pounds of heroin for 100 grand.

You know what a "shot to nothing" is?

It's used in snooker.

It's a shot in which
a player attempts a difficult pot,

but with safety in mind,

regardless of his actually potting anything.

Sounds like nothing for nothing to me.

On the surface, yes.

But by design, in the event of his missing,

he leaves his opponent in a position
of being unable to strike back.

We're on the verge of a war, Charlie.
You heard it yourself.

Nucky Thompson's about
to move on Joe Masseria.

And until such time as one of them is dead,

it would be unwise
to venture into any new deals.

What if the deal won't wait?

A deal will always wait.

And a fool will always rush in.

I like the concept, boys,
but the timing leaves much to be desired.

Good book.

I enjoyed it myself.

What do you want, Means?

You're in possession of certain funds.

10,000 in cash if memory serves,

that you acquired from
a previously unincarcerated George Remus.

So?

Well, I have it on unimpeachable authority

that those bills are marked.

- What do you mean?
- Traceable, Jess.

The Treasury Department and its agents.

If they trace those bills back to you,

then you can bet the last one your next job

will be making itty-bitty rocks
out of great big ones.

Jesus Christ.

I knew it. I knew it. I told Harry.

- Jess.
- It's over.

- It's fucking over.
- Jess,

have you spent any of it?

No. It's still in the envelope.

Good.

Then all you have to do is get rid of it.

- Get rid of it?
- Burn it.

It's the safest bet.
As soon as humanly possible.

If I were you, I'd take that cash out
to the yard right now

and consign it to the fires of hell.

Jess.

This is something you need to do.

What's wrong?

It pains me to bring you this news.

It's Jess.

- What the hell is he doing?
- Harry.

Stop him before someone sees him!

Look, look. Hey, hey. And what then?

A panicked man drowns
both himself and his savior.

No.

You need to keep yourself afloat.

The other day, I walk into the bathroom.
He's talking to himself in the mirror.

The man is ill, Harry.

In the yard,
burning money.

When Judgment Day comes,
and it most assuredly will,

he'll be in a hospital eating Jell-O.

But you,

you'll be doing hard time.

Our neighbor's dog,
meanest thing on four legs.

Nobody could get near him.

But he sees Jess, and the tail starts wagging.

I had a dog just like that as a boy.

Damn near broke my heart
when we had to put him down.

I wouldn't even know
who to talk to about a thing like that.

$40,000, and I promise you,

he won't feel a thing.

I'd prefer if you waited by the car.

I'm supposed to go with you no matter what.

That might prove embarrassing for both of us.

I'll keep 10 paces behind you
and wait in the hallway.

That's the best I can do.

Very accommodating.

I can imagine
what you're thinking,

but I assure you I'm only the messenger.

The bishop himself has determined
that this experiment has run its course

and would prefer
that the hospital's resources be applied

to other areas, effective immediately.

What about the women who've been coming?

They will have
to seek their information elsewhere.

You needn't bother with the chairs.
The cleaning staff will move them out.

I suppose I should say that I...

I found a great deal of what went on in here,

very educational.

I feel like a German spy.

Are those the...

There's one for you and one for Mrs. Shearer.

You can get it to her yourself.

You're pale. Are you feeling all right?

Nothing I haven't been through before.

This doesn't have to happen in a hospital.

A storefront, an upstairs office.

We could say anything we wanted to there,
anything they needed to know.

That would get you into trouble here.

Well, maybe this isn't where I belong.

Your fiancé wouldn't be
very happy about that.

I don't know.

She's a bit like you,

telling me to put my money
where my mouth is.

Think about what I proposed.

I hate being told what I can't do.

And the two of us,

I'd say we work pretty well together.

We did, didn't we?

So tell me about this dirty wop Rosetti.

What I'm hoping is that
you'll be able to tell me about him.

I've never met the man.

I know that.

What I want is for you
to go to Tabor Heights, cut a deal.

Well, that should take all of 30 seconds.

It'd be worth its weight in cow shit.

I sense you've dealt
with Italians before, Mr. McCoy.

And only will again
because it's you who's asking.

Agree to anything.

What I need is information.

The number of men, boats,

where they get their suits pressed,
how they take their coffee.

What's the difference between
a catfish and an Italian?

What?

One's a filthy, scum-sucking bottom-feeder,

and the other is a fish.

I'll get up there tout de suite.

Thanks for the drink.

You come back now, yeah?

Yes.

Good afternoon.

At lunchtime I surprise my customers
with aquavit.

Very happy to drink.

I'm glad to hear that.

- What is?
- For you.

Ah.

It's from my wife's oven.

I believe you call it lefse.

Lefse, aquavit, like I am back home.

I am sorry.

- Beg pardon?
- Call a taxi, mister?

I did not.

We got a car out front waiting for you anyway.

They did not give me a choice.

Am I under arrest?

It's nice he has his grandma,
but everyone needs a dad,

especially a little boy.

You're right.

It's good he has you.

No place else to go?

Dad, I invited Richard over.

You sniffing around here like a dog?

I'll go get you some coffee.

I don't want any fuckin' coffee!

You know why he's here, don't you? Huh?

You strutting around
like some mongrel bitch in heat.

Richard. Dad.

- Stop.
- Shut up!

I'm still your father.

And I won't have you spreading your legs
for some sideshow freak.

No!

Stop it!

Stop!

Would you pay a dime to see this?

- Get off me!
- Richard.

- Apologize.
- Fuck you!

Richard, please.

Apologize.

I'm sorry.

To her.

The money's just to get us started.

Meyer and me, we'll take care
of everything after that.

All you gotta do is sit back and collect.

Is that what the Jew said to say?

It's what I say.

They fuck their women through
a hole in a sheet.

A joyless people.

Not this one.

Straight ahead...

Like he's been out to sea
six months.

Heroin...

I've lost interest.

That's bullshit.

And now you're being rude.

English, so my partner understands.

You want English?

Fine.

If this such a good deal,
why you come to me, huh?

Why you don't go to your socio d'affari,
the other Jew, Rothstein?

Mr. Rothstein has reservations
about entering the heroin trade,

more than likely because
his business is suffering.

I got reservations, too.

Like, I no trust you.

This is a big step for all of us.

We're confident that time
and familiarity will change all that.

I no be so sure.

Mr. Rothstein's hesitancy

coupled with our narrow time frame,

make it necessary for us
to expand our search for a partner.

Naturally, we thought of you.

Naturally.

One hundred thousand.

What else do I get besides a profit?

Nucky Thompson.

He's thinking about making a move.

Make a move on me?

How you know this?

Do we have a deal or no?

Without friends
who can provide you with information,

how long do you think
your luck will hold out?

Fine.

We have deal.

You tell me, then,

what information you got
about Nucky Thompson.

We meet here tonight.

Twelve hundred cases?

That's bigger than Nucky's order.

Everything of mine is bigger than Nucky's.

It's a lot of trips back and forth to Rum Row.
You got an army?

With 17 boats?

More like a navy. You'll have no problems.

Unless you run into one of them rogue waves.

How's that?

My cousin Franco grew up on boats.

The last captain lost part of our shipment.

Franco said because of rogue waves.

Well, yeah.
At least that's what it sounded like.

A shitty sailor, this guy.

More than likely half in the bag.

I don't think so.

Oh, you don't?

Your boy's right.

When the winds shift like the other night,

the sea can pretty much have
its way with you,

especially if you're busy
staring up at the fuckin' stars.

The fuck do I know?

My father laid bricks for a living.

Not to worry, Mr. Rosetti.

The ocean and I have an understanding.

You'll get your booze on time and intact.

Sorry about this morning, Harry.
It won't happen again.

We all go a little haywire at times.

You don't.

Not even when we were kids.

You knew what to do, when to do it.

That twister back home, remember that?

- In '85?
- It was a dark hour, wasn't it?

In the cellar with my folks,

the world being torn to pieces.

Poor Mary Shackelford.

They never even found her.

But what did we all do the very next morning?

We...

We stepped into the light of day,
picked up the pieces,

moved on.

That's right.

I'm thinking maybe it's time to retire.

Leave Washington?

We're not getting any younger, Jess.

Fly-fishing,

porch-sitting,

lazy days, busy doing nothing.

How does that sound?

I don't know what to say.

This, my heart was never in it.

And as long as we're being honest,

for a while now neither was mine.

Now, you finish that chicken, get some sleep.

It's amazing how much better
a good night's rest will make you feel.

Sleep tight, my darling.

Sing it again, Mama.

And torture the poor mice?

Mom?

How long do we have to stay here?

Not for much longer.

Soon we'll all leave
and see what adventures await.

Emily misses our room
and there's no kitchen here.

As soon as they're done
with the repairs, back home.

Everything will be swell then.

Now get to sleep.

Good night, dear.

I'll be in later.

Was there anyone waiting?

At home, I mean, after the war?

Jenny Hastings.

We rode horses together.

She'd write, knit me a scarf.

Married my cousin when I was in France.

I was 20.

He was 32.

A widower with three children.

We talked of marriage.

And then my brother Freddy was killed,

and my dad...

Well,

Douglas, that was his name.

He married the daughter of the man
who ran the telegraph office.

Had three more children.

I wish I could kiss you.

- Owen?
- Chalky.

In the foyer.

Know who I am tonight?

What's that supposed to mean?

Had some trouble last time.

What do you want, Chalky?

Got cash behind me.

I'm gonna cut you proper.

Connections in the circuit,
New York, Chicago,

St. Louis, Kansas City.

I bring the acts in. I guarantee it.

I don't know what you're talking about.

A club,

on the Boardwalk
where Babette's used to was.

A Negro club?

Black on stage, white in the house.

They doing it in Harlem.

Packing 'em in till the small hours.

- This isn't Harlem.
- Ain't Japan neither.

But there a big hole out there,
money to be made.

I know it in my bones, Nucky.

And I is set to do it right.

Ain't gonna be no juke joint
with barrelhouse coming out.

This here gonna be elegant.

Tuxedos and "chandelabras."

Chandeliers.

I ain't got to spell 'em, just pay for 'em.

Nobody want to see that wreck out there

and nobody wanna be reminded
what happened.

This an opportunity, a chance for this town...

There's a dividing line.

There's a line and you know that.

That line can move.

Chalky, I have other things
on my mind right now.

All you gotta do is say yes.

I'll take care of the rest.

I just told you how it is.

Why is that hard to understand?

You ain't the only one be thinking.

See, I can understand a fella gets lost once.

Things on his mind,
gets off the wrong L stop.

That can happen.

But twice?

- As I said, sir...
- You're one of O'Banion's.

I barely know the man.

That's why he had you packing iron
at the yard last week?

Those were unusual circumstances.

And so are these.

He's sending you selling whiskey
where you don't belong.

He... He doesn't know, sir.

- How's that?
- Mr. O'Banion,

he's unaware of my activities.

So what's he like, O'Banion?

Good to work for?

He has his peccadilloes.

What's your name again?

George.

What am I gonna do with you, George?

I got a few ideas.

"There was a man in the land of Uz
whose name was Job,

- "and that man was perfect and upright."
- What?

"And one that feared God and eschewed evil."

What the hell are you on about?

Please, sir, I am providing for a family.

I failed to eschew evil, but I'm trying.

You tried five blocks deep into my territory.

Right now you're gonna pay me back.

- Yes, sir.
- Huh?

Yes, sir.

Tell me everything you know
about O'Banion's operation.

Jess!

You're awake at an unsettled hour.

What are you doing here?

The Attorney General was detained
by the burdens of state.

Nonetheless, he expressed concern
regarding your well-being and...

You're holding a gun.

Yes. Yes, indeed, I am.

I routinely carry a firearm in the course
of my manifold duties.

"But why is it unsheathed," you may well ask,

"in the confines of the Park Wardman Hotel?"
Well, now...

How much is Harry paying you?

- On a weekly basis?
- To murder me.

Now, Jess,

these are the fever dreams
of a restless imagination.

He called you in,

he looked you in the eye...

And he said, "I want you to..."

Oh, my God.

Would you like me to put the weapon away?
I'll just...

And then raise my hands, I guess.

Have you ever killed anyone?

Well, now, Jess, I'll share a confidence.

I never actually have
brought down the curtain.

That is a hanging offense, after all.

I'll show you how easy it is.

We want to be private. And nobody comes in.

Capisce?

Sure.

Yeah, let me get two.

You're sitting in the dark.

Leave it, please.

This craziness
should all be over in a few days.

You don't believe me.

I didn't say anything.

I can't say I blame you,

the way I bollixed everything.

Is that the right word?

Is it bollixed?

You said it correctly
and quite appropriately as well.

I guess between you and Owen,
the old country is starting to rub off.

I will make this up to you.

I promise.

It's a new start from here on out.

It is.

You should get some rest.

Every bottle accounted for tonight.

That's 1,200 cases, 24 bottles per.

That's 28,800 bottles.

See? That's math.

That's useful.

That's what my father used
on account he laid bricks.

Built churches, bridges.

Came home at night,
he smelled like sweat, not fish.

Broke his back, dead at 50.

Layin' around in a fuckin' boat,
he would have seen 100.

But not him.

Not fuckin' him.

Not like your father.

- Right, Franco?
- Please, Mr. Rosetti.

I'm a... I'm a fuckin' idiot. I'm sorry. Please.

Tonino!

For the love of Christ!

Gyp. Gyp, he's my mother's brother's kid.

He didn't mean no disrespect.

He's just a fuckin' know-it-all.

Break his legs, anything.

Not this.

Please. I'm begging you.

Gyp, he's my blood.

Fuckin' family, right?

Yeah, you know how it is.

Hey, you're a lucky fella, Franco.

Give me that.

Because I respect you.

Fuck!

You owe me.

Nucky.

Nucky.

What the fuck do you want?

There is a delivery.

- What time is it?
- Almost 4:00 a.m.

What's going on?

- Go back to bed.
- What's this?

Get back in your room. Close it up.

Close it! Close it!

- Margaret, don't...
- No!

Stop it, stop it.

Stop. Stop.

Margaret, stop, stop.

Margaret?

Margaret?

Margaret, open the door.

Margaret?

Margaret?

What's St. Louis like?

I haven't a clue.
But Emmet's a mate from years back.

He'll set us on our feet.

And if it doesn't suit us, we'll...

We'll live among the Indians.

Aye. Or give it a go at least.

And Katy?

I'll leave one morning,

tell her something that sounds convincing,
and she'll never see me again.

Are you lying to me now?

Why are you asking that?

Because I need to know.

You don't trust me?

Tell me you're different from him.

Those would just be words.

Then what do I have to go on?

I'm pregnant.

It's yours.

You can do as you choose.

Plans or no, I won't hold you to them.

But say what you want,

as long as it's the truth.

The truth?

Well, I'd like it to be a boy.

Nucky's looking for you.

Mrs. Thompson.

Mr. Sleater.