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This episode had it all! All of the things that have been making Boardwalk Empire increasingly excruciating. We've got a side plot that absolutely nobody is interested in (Gillian's having trouble staying above water at the Maison Derriere!), a random act of violence in order to goose a flagging storyline (Van Alden thinks the prohie he met in the raid is onto his secret identity, so when the guy comes by the house, Sigrid cracks his head open with a wooden beam or something, so Van Alden has to approach O'Banion in order to dispose of the body), and Jimmy James acting like a weirdo while being asked to care about rooting out corruption in Washington. Oh, and as a bonus, the show gets some laughs out of pitting the black guys against the coded-gay-guy when Nucky sends Chalky and Purnsley to intimidate Eddie Cantor into saving Billie's Broadway show. It's really such a charming show.
Nucky's busy on a lot of fronts this week, as Rothstein is furious about the Rosetti blockade and questioning whether Nucky's head is even in the game. It appears that Rothstein goes to Tabor Heights and strikes a backroom deal with Rosetti to change suppliers. But it turns out to be all a ruse in order to ambush Rosetti in his hotel room (where he's taken to choke play with the local waitress). Only they put Benny Siegel in charge of the assassination, and Rosetti made it out alive. Unfortunately.
Meanwhile, Margaret is having trouble getting Atlantic City women to actually avail themselves of the women's clinic's free services. She also is clearly growing ever more fond of Dr. Mason, so of course this is the week we meet his wife. Her week goes from bad to worse when, on a flyer-delivering trip to the Belle Femme, she runs into Nucky, who is buying a dress for Billie, who emerges from the dressing room and has a meeting with Margaret that would chill your bones. Then Margaret hands her a flyer for the women's clinic, because she's still pretty gangster this season.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!For the second consecutive week, we're reminded at the outset just what network we're watching by an explicit sex scene. This time, we're in Tabor Heights and it seems that Rosetti was indeed able to bed that redheaded waitress he had his eye on. Of course, Gyp Rosetti can't just have regular sex. Gyp Rosetti is a quirky gangster whose every gesture exudes an odd and off-kilter air. So while a guard sits outside his room, Gyp engages in super-freaky sex wherein the lady is choking him out with a leather belt from behind, while he -- deprived of oxygen -- rubs one out. When she starts to let up, out of a concern that she's perhaps choking him to death, he yells at her not to stop. He ends up passing out, but he's not dead. He's so hardcore and crazy and dangerous and unpredictable, you guys! This is why we watch cable dramas!
In Atlantic City, Arnold Rothstein and Lucky Luciano are meeting with Nucky and Sleater and Eli to discuss the Rosetti problem. Eli gives his account of the ambush and he even snaps back at Rothstein when the latter starts to intimate that Eli showed cowardice by just hanging back while it happened. Nucky actually lets him continue, showing that he's probably thawing on his wayward brother and Eli explains how, with Rosetting choking off the road through Tabor Heights and the backroads essentially impassable in the wintertime, there is no way to ship the booze to New York. Nucky even has to defend his million-dollar highway, which is still in development, though he manages to avoid the part where his wife signed the deed for the land over to her pastor. Nucky thanks Eli for his input and excuses him. Rothstein is just suuuper pissed about this state of affairs. He can't make a move against Rosetti without upsetting the delicate relationship he has with the guy Rosetti kicks up to: Joe Masseria. Rosetti doesn't have any respect for rules and is basically a mad dog, Nucky declares. That makes him bad for business. Rothstein asks Luciano and Sleater to give him and Nucky the room alone, and that's when shit stops being polite and starts getting real. Rothstein basically calls Nucky an amateur. Nucky's a convenience of geography and supply, nothing more. So when Nucky stops being able to handle his business in New Jersey ("a state I have little interest in or affection for..."), does he actually expect him to start a war in New York, "where things actually matter?!" A+ shade there, Arnold. Nucky tries to once again make the case that Rosetti is a problem for everyone, but Rothstein stays on the offensive, accusing Nucky of running off to New York at a moment's notice "to rut with a showgirl." Nucky warns him to leave Miss Kent out of this, but Rothstein's like, "You can't." The accusations still fly: Nucky calls Rothstein "dead below the waist" and a "little weasel with a good poker face." Bam! Bam!
Outside the office, Sleater and Luciano wait and try to avoid making awkward conversation. I halfway expected them to strike up a side deal like Lucky did with Jimmy last year. Finally, Rothstein emerges and tells Lucky they're moving on to other business. They hustle out and Sleater mills around, waiting for Nucky to come out and tell him something. He doesn't, and Sleater finds him in his office, staring out the window. "Anything I need to know?" Sleater asks. Nucky ignores the question and asks what time Billie's rehearsal is. So not all that concerned about being too caught up in Miss Kent, then?
In Chicago, Van Alden gets called into the boss's office at work and it seems like this is serious. Mr. Gulliver informs him that he's gotten a call from the IRS. Cloud of doom roll in over Van Alden's face, as he wonders if the jig is indeed up. It's a giant fakeout, of course. When Gulliver asks "Meuller" to explain where he worked before Chicago, Van Alden explains about working on a wheat farm in Minnesota. Rather than call him on his lie, Gulliver instead is like, "Well why didn't you write it on your employment form?" See? The IRS also handles tax stuff! Bet you thought you were going to see something interesting. Gulliver then hands Van Alden the card of the agent who came to see him, who says he met him in a speakeasy. The name is Emmett Coughlin, and he's the agent who thought he recognized Van Alden two episodes ago. Okay, so maybe the jig IS up. Gulliver jokes that "George" isn't planning on blowing the whistle on his co-workers, right? And Van Alden does that thing where he approximates the sounds of laughter but in reality sounds nothing like it.
Hey! We're at the Maison Derriere! And look, it's Leander! You remember Leander, of course. Town elder, calm demeanor, played by Uncle Junior from The Sopranos, seems to have a lot of power in Atlantic City even though he never really shows it? Look, I like Dominic Chianese and Gretchen Mol a lot, but at this point, what the hell is this storyline even doing here? I love a good sprawling TV drama with a billion characters to keep up with, but there are too many characters on this show that just float in their own separate ponds. Anyway, Gillian is seeking a loan to make improvements on the brothel, but Leander reminds her that she's still in the red and doesn't she have a partner anyway? She says she and Mr. Luciano differ on how best to run the place. She then tries to sell Leander on the brothel as a kind of dream palace, where all the men are young and ideal and all the women are pure -- doesn't every town need a place like that? Leander is only thinking of the practicalities and without the house to put down as collateral, a loan is out of the question. And she can't put the house down for collateral until it's hers to put down, and that can't happen until she has Jimmy declared legally dead. "He's prone to long disappearances!" she says, trying to fool herself more than anybody. "He's always been an adventurous boy..." Leander loses his patience and snaps at her: until Jimmy is declared dead, she had no claim and no credit and she's wasting an old man's time. He leaves Gillian to her self-delusion.
Margaret's at home, entertaining Cornelia, and they're going over the flyers for the women's clinic. Currently, it reads "Do you wish for Greater Knowledge?" and then makes mention of things like nutrition and infant care and "general health." Cornelia asks of seeing greater knowledge doesn't make the whole thing seem like she's advertising for a soothsayer or something. Margaret says she can't very well outright say, "Come discuss your vagina." Cornelia half-jokingly suggests adding a photo -- you know, of kittens. Margaret gives a rueful smile at this. Cornelia looks up from the table to see Owen Sleater enter the room, so of course she blushes like whoa. Right behind him is Nucky, an even more unexpected guest. Margaret excuses herself to speak with her husband, leaving Cornelia free to flirt with Owen at her leisure. The conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Thompson is chilly, with Nucky telling her he'll be out of town for a few days, but he wanted to check in on her and let her know there will be bodyguards. Margaret gets worried -- the bodyguards are one thing, but Nucky's concern is really alarming her. Nucky tries to assure her it's nothing, but she's learned so well to question his every word, action and motive. Finally, he just sighs and says he will be back in a few days. On his way out, Margaret asks Owen what this is all about. "He worries sometimes," Owen says flatly.
In Washington... okay, remember how I said about sprawling storylines that don't seem to connect much to the other stories? Like, obviously the power plays in Washington are going to end up trickling down to Nucky's level -- especially if Harry Daugherty goes down as attorney general. And clearly the legendary corruption of the Harding administration is rich thematic ground for a show like this. But on an episode-by-episode level, these scenes are death. We are introduced to James Cromwell as U.S. Treasury Secretary Andrew W. Mellon -- of Carnegie Mellon fame -- who is being called before Congress (including Nucky's old frenemy Senator Edge) to testify to the poor record of enforcement when it comes to prohibition. Mellon makes no secret of the fact that he finds prohibition to be bad policy and a huge waste of resources, but he also makes no bones about his feeling that a combination of corruption and incompetence in the Justice department is to blame for poor enforcement. Treasury controls the IRS -- i.e. the prohies -- but it's Justice which seems to dropping the ball when it comes to convicting bootleggers. Mellon moves and speaks slowly, deliberately, with great authority. Edge says they fully intend to call Attorney General Daugherty to testify as well, and it sure seems like he's in hot water. Outside, our old pal Jimmy James -- who, you'll recall, is acting as a go-between for Daugherty and his various criminal dependents -- sits and acts like a big ol' weirdo. Some young flunky exits the chambers and surreptitiously feeds him the bad news about how the proceedings are going for Daugherty.
We're at rehearsal for Billie's new production, a Broadway musical with Lee Shubert, and it's not going very well. Judging by the number we see them rehearsing, taking place on a golf course for some reason, there is no chemistry between the leads and the dancing needs work. The choreographer steps in to show Billie how it's done, and he has much more success than her co-star. Nucky watches from the audience and he's soon joined by Eddie Cantor, who's dismayed (though not un-amused) by how awful it is. Nucky's worried about what this will mean for Billie, but Eddie says it's not her fault. It's just the male lead doesn't exactly live up to the show's title, "The Naughty Virgin." Nucky eyes the choreographer dancing with Billie and asks Eddie about him. Eddie says he's worked with him before. Nucky: "Did he put his hands on your waist?" Eddie smirks: "I'll never tell." That's interesting. I think that's the most explicit the show has been about Eddie's sexuality and it's interesting to know that Nucky's aware of it. Anyway, Eddie wonders if Nucky is worried that there's something going on with Billie and the choreographer, and you get the feeling Nucky's not un-concerned.
Van Alden's at home, filling out his tax forms and correcting Sigrid on her English grammar. He's a pill, but it's more than amusing watching Sigrid practice her American phrases like "I enjoyed the motion picture" and "I am hunky-dory." A knock at the door startles Van Alden and he very warily steps to the peep hole to see who it is, while Sigrid goes to quiet the baby. A card is slipped under the door and Van Alden looks through the hole to see Agent Coughlin walking out. The card is his -- same as the one he left with Gulliver, only this one has a question mark on the back. Sigrid wonders if maybe everything isn't so hunky-dory, and he sits her down and says he hasn't been entirely honest with her. She cuts him off and says she knows everything: that his name isn't his name, and they're on the run because his old co-workers said he did terrible things. She knows he didn't do them, she says. "They blame you to hide themselves," she says. And so they run. Comforted by her faith in his delusions, Van Alden says that is exactly right.
At St. Theresa's, Dr. Mason is finishing up today's lesson on how one's eggs are fertilized and travel through fallopian tubes and implant in uteruses and all the familiar processes that accompany getting pregnant becoming with child, all under the watchful eye of Sister Mary Euphemism (as well as Margaret). The class is dismissed for the day and one woman in particular expresses her gratitude, saying she wishes she had a class like this when she was thirteen; she might not have thought she was dying anyway. So the class is helping, it's just not helping very many people. After the room as cleared out, Dr. Mason mentions the low turnout and Margaret mentions the new flyers that she will start distributing tomorrow. He tells her that he should have said this by now, but he misjudged her before and he's sorry. She thanks him and there's a moment of awkward silence between them. Margaret, this is a cute, young doctor with a social conscience standing in front of you; you might want to consider getting ON THAT. They finally are both like, "Tomorrow evening then?" and go to leave, but a woman shows up at the doorway. Margaret begins to tell her that the class is finished for the evening, but of course this woman isn't here for the class, and OF COURSE she's Dr. Mason's fiancée, Helen. And if you thought it was the silence that was awkward before...
Back at the Ritz, Nucky and Owen are sitting in a darkened room, sipping whiskey and speaking cryptically about... something. Nucky says Owen seems nervous. Owen says he doesn't like leaving matters out of their hands. Nucky says if something goes wrong, they aren't to blame. SOUNDS EXCITING, GUYS! Their busy schedule of avoiding specifics is interrupted by Billie's arrival, at which point, Owen makes a decidedly polite exit. She's bumming hardcore on account of how her terrible show is getting shuttered by the end of the week. Never even got out of previews. Nucky assures her that it's not her fault, but she's been hearing that so much lately it's starting to make her nervous. He says it's just that "ox" she got paired with. He asks her why Shubert never replaced him with anyone else. The choreographer, say? Billie says he's no one's idea of a leading man, before stopping and adding, "But I'm no leading lady." Nucky says he'll call Shubert and convince him to revamp the project -- new stars, new songs, new script (um, it's called a BOOK, Nucky! Jeez, thing you'll be playing the soundtrack). Billie doesn't want him to intervene, though. "I just wanted to complain," she says, a sentiment I can completely empathize with. Nucky backs off, and then offers to take them out to dinner. But Billie is, as I said, bumming, so she'd just rather stay home and wallow for a bit. She says the thing she hates the most is that she keeps hearing her father's words to her: "Always on the move, but going nowhere fast." Eloquent old bastard, huh? Billie gives Nucky a sad flapper smile, and then retires to the bedroom.
Tabor Heights. That same damn diner. Rosetti is inside as usual and he's joined by Arnold Rothstein and Lucky Luciano. At the point where we join things, Rosetti is explaining that he did what he did against Nucky mainly because of his superior attitude. "Hubris, as the Greeks called it," Rothstein offers, which gets Rosetti to puff his chest out about the Italians having conquered the Greeks or some such business. He then offers what must seem to him like a sincere apology for shooting his mouth off at New Year's, and Rothstein calmly assures him that he's got a thick skin about it. So it looks like these guys are striking up a deal to circumvent Nucky, provided Rosetti can provide the same top-shelf booze Nucky could. A news carrier comes in hawking today's paper, and Rosetti buys one off the kid, then get angry and snaps that he said this was TODAY'S paper, but it's full of YESTERDAY'S news. Everybody immediately look at their shoes because their too embarrassed to look at someone who could be that insanely stupid, everyone hoping that no one will call him on it. The paperboy is almost compelled to answer ("because today's news is still happening, dipshit" seems appropriate to the occasion) before the lightbulb flicks on above Rosetti's head and he manages to pretend he was making a joke the whole time. Funny joke! I don't know how newspapers work! He tells the paperboy to add his hotel room -- room 207 at the lodge down the street -- to his delivery route. Rosette then invites Rothstein and Luciano to come by after midnight and sample some of his incoming delivery. They all shake on it.
Nucky and Eddie Cantor are having lunch in a private dining room at Babbette's (hey Babbette! Good to see your top-hat-and-tails attire is an all-day thing!). Nucky hands Eddie a gift: a bottle of Passover vodka, which Eddie eagerly accepts. It's interesting -- Nucky is obviously working Eddie here, but through the years it strikes me that Eddie is the one genuine friend Nucky has. He's the one guy whose relationship with Nucky isn't somehow connected to business, so the affection Nucky clearly has for him is different than anything we see with the other people in his life. You can see it even here, even as Nucky is preparing to taint his one un-sullied relationship with a power play. Talk turns to The Naughty Virgin (which, also, how did THAT not end up as the episode title?), and after Eddie makes a tasteless joke about livening up the show with some blackface (file THAT one away for later), Nucky declares that what the show needs is a star like Eddie, and when Eddie chuckles at the compliment, Nucky is like, "It's settled, then! You're going to star." Eddie says he's got a show starting week, contacts signed, theater booked, "and besides, it's a great show." Nucky says he'll make it worth Eddie's while and he will "straighten things out" as far as contractual obligations go. Eddie finally gives a firm no, and tells Nucky he'd rather not be strong-armed this way. Nucky backs down, but he's visibly disappointed. Eddie assures him that Billie will be just fine and Nucky remarks that show business is a tough racket. "You know what they say," Eddie says. "Dying is easy." QUITE FORESHADOWING, DUDE! Nucky extends his hand and wishes Eddie good luck, saying he'll be fifth row center on opening night. Eddie's relieved that Nucky isn't angry, even though anyone with half a brain expects Nucky to pick up that bottle of kosher vodka and start swinging. He doesn't. Yet.
In New York City, Lansky is unpacking boxes of Buddha statues from The Orient and breaking them open to retrieve the heroin packets therein. I have to say, no judgments about doing the actual drug, but opiates in the early 20th century were so glamorous! Clandestine Asian shipping routes and dimly lit back rooms -- what a life! Anyway, while Lansky desecrates icons, Benny (Bugsy) is filing the serial number off of a gun. Lansky chides him for sloppy work, because of course Benny doesn't have the patience to finish the last two numbers. Lansky sends him back to finish, then sighs about today's slacker youth. (The Greatest Generation!)
Poor Margaret's on the boardwalk trying to hand out flyers for the clinic, and she's not having very much success. It doesn't help that she's being shouted down by a barker talking about freak shows or nudie parlors or something. So she ducks into a familiar storefront: the Chateau Fromage! It's always weird to return as a customer to a place you used to work. Madame Jeunet is thrilled to see her, of course, and Margaret does her usual job of pretending to be just as happy. (I think she's probably forgiven Madame Jeunet for being such a C during her early days in the shop, but she certainly hasn't forgotten.) Jeunet tells Margaret that they're closed today, as the spring dresses are arriving, but she should come back tomorrow. It starts to seem that Jeunet's delight is tinged with an urgency to get Margaret to skedaddle. Margaret simply wants to leave a stack of flyers here for anyone who might want one and Jeunet is like, "Yes! Wonderful! Come back tomorrow and visit your flyers!" Soon enough, we see the reason for this hustle, as Nucky emerges from the back room with a dress in hand. Margaret's all, "Out of town, are you?" Nucky tries to placate her, but she's clearly ticked off about being lied to. That feeling multiplies itself when a giggling Billie emerges from the dressing room. Suddenly, it's all so clear to Margaret. She recognizes Miss Kent from New Year's -- "Your friends call you Billie," she says, ice cold. Billie has the grace to be horrified and says she assumed she's not in any danger of being called Billie in this room. Nucky suggests to Margaret that they discuss this later. "There's no need," she says and storms off, though not before turning around and handing Billie a flyer. "I doubt that you're free in the evenings," she says, "but... " ICE COLD. Love it. Margaret OUT.
Ugh, this scene. Okay, so this scene made me really angry for a couple different reasons, so I'm just going to try to get through it without getting too repetitive about my complaints. So Eddie's in his hotel room in Atlantic City, packing up to return to New York when the knock at the door turns out to be Dunn Purnsley and Eddie of course mistakes him for his driver, because as was established a few scenes ago, Eddie's totally racist. Which, fine, everybody was back then, it makes sense that Eddie is too. But this episode is the first time we've seen: A) Eddie's racism become overt, and B) Eddie's probable homosexuality alluded to. So I just find it both convenient and kind of gross that this episode is going to some lengths to pit the gay guy against the black guys just so we can watch the minorities beat each other down. Because Purnsley is hear with Chalky, and obviously the purpose is to intimidate Eddie into doing things Nucky's way. Eddie takes a while to realize these aren't The Help and are in fact goons here to rough him up. Once he does, he's exceedingly capitulating, stammering pleasantries and such. He also calls Chalky "Milky," like he doesn't have enough problems. Chalky brings up how black people aren't allowed in Eddie's shows, leading to more stammer backpedaling from Eddie. Purnsley says Nucky promised them that Eddie might do a private show for them. With the threat of broken limbs hanging thick in the air, Eddie obliges them with a cheeky routine typical of what we always see Eddie do on the show. It's funny because he's dancing his homo feet off so they won't beat him. And it's justified because Eddie's been complicit in their systematic oppression. The perfect crime, really. Honestly, I know that the thrill of vicarious violence has been paying the bills at ABC for over a decade now, but I was decidedly not feeling the anticipatory glee that comes with waiting for a vicious fag-bashing to begin. PARTICULARLY when that anticipation of violence is playing the fags-vs-blacks dichotomy for laughs. That the beatdown doesn't happen, ultimately -- that Chalky and Purnsley get disgusted and Eddie decides to cave and give Nucky whatever he wants -- doesn't take away the disgust. Not a bit. Anyway, back to your show about how the world is run by straight white guys!
And now, from a scene I didn't care for to a scene I don't care about! Jess Smith (Harry Daugherty's right-hand man and former collector of bribes) is waiting in an anteroom when Jimmy James enters and wedges a chair underneath the doorknob. He's very hush-hush as he relays the details of Mellon's hearing, though of course he's showy as fuck too, going on and on about the attire of the men in the hearing and generally stuffing as much quirk into the character as he can manage. Jess just tells him to spit out whether Mellon is for 'em or against 'em, and Jimmy James says Mellon's not their greatest ally. Jess is pretty well freaking out at this point -- he's having trouble keeping track of the payouts and the lies -- and since Jimmy James doesn't seem to care for him very much, he's kind of enjoying the unspooling. "What happens if they find someone honest?" Jess blurts. Jimmy James is like, "Relax, bro. Attorneys General do not go to prison." Of course, as Jess tells him, Harry's the A.G., not him. Jimmy says the answer to all this distress is quite simple: Congress is upset that Justice isn't placing enough bootleggers in jail, so -- fucking DUH -- put some bootleggers in jail. (You can see where this is headed down the line, I trust? Good.) Jess further hyperventilates that the bootleggers are the ones they're in business with, and if they go to jail... (he trails off, but obviously this gives the bootleggers all the incentive in the world to roll over on their corrupt government cronies). The men are interrupted by someone who needs the room, and Jimmy makes is exit with a flourish, as ever.
Margaret's at home at her desk when Nucky makes an unexpected visit. He sits down to talk, but she stands, unwilling to meet him halfway. "Whatever fiction you prefer is perfectly fine..." she starts, but Nucky surprises her with an apology... sort of. "I'm sorry for demonstrating bad form," he says, which gives Margaret a dark laugh. "That would distress you, wouldn't it?" she sneers. She finds this all quite humiliating, though she salvages some of herself by asking Nucky, "Is she in need of rescuing too?" At least she's got his number. He says Billie is quite "capable" and Margaret's like, "Sucks for you, then." "Maybe I've changed," he says. Margaret says maybe he's not the only one. Up against a brick wall, Nucky goes to leave and says he'll look in on the kids. She tells him she'd rather he didn't, and while he capitulates, he tells her seriously that she might want to ask herself some "practical questions," i.e. how willing is she to give up the gravy train. It IS important to note that Margaret entered in on this marriage with no small sense of mercenary self-preservation, so let's not start chipping in for a flower arrangement just yet.
In Cicero, Van Alden comes home to a most distressing sight: Agent Coughlin in his living room, chatting with a decidedly nervous Sigrid. Coughlin looks simultaneously smug and dangerous, though the latter might just be a consequence of seeing him how Van Alden sees him (ugh, life through Van Alden's eyes -- [shudder]). Sigrid excuses herself to go check on the dinner. Van Alden asks Coughlin straight-up if he intends to extort money from him, and Coughlin chuckles mirthlessly that it's more like the other way around. After he saw him in the speakeasy, he racked his brain trying to come up with where he'd seen Van Alden before. So once again Van Alden is certain he's been found out. But once again -- total fakeout. This guy isn't a federal agent with a photographic memory. He's a federal agent with a beef about the shoddy vacuum cleaner some square-jawed weirdo sold him door-to-door. He even came with the defective machine in the box. Of course, someone maybe should have told Sigrid of this plot twist, because Coughlin has no sooner opened the box that she comes flying out of the kitchen with -- well, the weapon of choice is hard to see clearly, but I'm going with a kitchen mallet (the better to pound flat schnitzels and such) -- anyway, something blunt, and she brains Coughlin on the head twice. He's on the floor in a bad way as Van Alden restrains his wife from beating him further and tells her he was only a disgruntled customer. Still, Sigrid shakes it off and is like, "I'll hold his legs," because every character on this show can turn into someone from Goodfellas at a moment's notice. So she indeed holds his legs down and instructs her husband to finish the poor bastard off. He requests that his wife avert her eyes as he places his kerchiefed hand over Coughlin's mouth and smothers him to death. Always good to see a husband and wife who make a good team. "A bad person," Sigrid declares. Mmm hmm.
At the Maison Derriere, Gillian is unhappy with the gaggle of escorts lounging about and not making any money. She's also maybe a little drunk? She tells them to get out in front of the house and start selling, even though they say she's told them not to do that before. To hell with the finer things, Mama's got money to make. Gillian then sits down to write a letter to her "dearest James," partly as a Step 1 to proving that he's actually dead and partly as a sad exercise in loneliness. "Life is nothing without you," she writes. "And there is no one who understands me." She begs him to come home, knowing he won't. Sad.
At St. Theresa's, Margaret is waiting for class to begin. Dr. Mason isn't there yet, and, as Sister Mary Euphemism is all too eager to point out, they've gone from six women in the class down to five. Margaret says they'll wait a bit longer; "we don't all have your rigor, Sister." Sister Euphemism rather haughtily says we are usually prompt for the things we care about. One of the ladies in the class, God bless her, speaks up and says that the hour of the class makes it not ideal for a housewife. At Margaret's prompting, the other women chime in to say that mid-mornings would be best, after breakfast and before the kids return from school. Margaret jots this down, though Sister Euphemism throws a bucket of cold water, saying that doesn't really suit her schedule. If Margaret's ever going to use her connections to Nucky to have a nun killed, this WOULD be the season. A nurse comes to the door and tells Margaret that Dr. Mason is needed in the ward and doesn't know when he'll be able to join the class, so Margaret gathers herself and decides to teach today's lesson on her own. The ladies in the class seem unsure, and Sister Mary Euphemism is practically aghast that a regular ol' woman could presume to teach such things. But Margaret's like, "We have our book and our chart and ourselves." Sister Euphemism says this is not what was agreed to. Margaret's like, "Yeah, today's been like that in a lot of ways." She begins the lesson by saying that last time they discussed conception, while this time they will learn about "development: how a human being grows." Okay! Theme delivered!
In Chicago, Van Alden shows up late at night at Dean O'Banion's flower shop. I see O'Banion's started locking his door and keeping a guard by it since the Capone incident. Dean's cracking "iron" related puns at his old friend the traveling salesman, but Van Alden's in no mood for laughs (I know, right?). He says he needs Dean's help: "I must dispose of a body." Dean almost certainly did not see that one coming.
Tabor Heights. At the lodge where Rosetti is staying, the newspaper boy approaches with the night's delivery. Only we purposefully don't see his face, and also one of the bodyguards out front asks what happened to the other kid, so something's up. Upstairs, Rosetti's busy doing the redheaded waitress from behind while collared to the bedpost by his belt. A good time being had by all. The newsie strides down the hall to the guard outside Rosetti's door, who responds to the kid's delivery request with "I'll take it," and he does, as the kid pulls out a gun and shoots him right in the head. Inside, Rosetti heard the shot and starts yelling at the waitress to untie him. He reaches for his gun, but the belt won't let him get that far. The newsie -- surprise, it's Benny/Bugsy -- shoots through the lock and busts in, just in time for Rosetti to free himself and pull the waitress in front of him and take the killshot. Benny keeps firing haphazardly around the room but he doesn't hit Rosetti, who by now has found his gun and is firing back. Benny flees without getting the job done -- fucking of course! -- but he sure will shoot everybody on his way out. Even the poor original paperboy, who shows up at exactly the wrong time, sees Benny racing towards the door with a gun and squeaks out a "Don't shoot!" Benny only needs to push past this kid and he's out the door, but nope: shoots him right between the eyes. Because he could. Because he's been waiting to shoot people for weeks and he wanted one more. Benny races across the lawn, yelping and hooting like how Daffy Duck used to when he was acting crazy, and tells his getaway driver to step on it. So I guess that deal Rothstein and Luciano set up was only to get Rosetti to let his guard down? Can't imagine this will end all that well. Especially after Rosetti stalks through the lodge, past all the dead and dying bodies, belt still around his neck, blood all over his body, looking for all the world like a wild animal. Also you can totally see his penis.
At the theater, Eddie brusquely walks past Billie and Choreographer Vern, who both marvel at how crazy it is that the show is going on. Vern exits and we see Nucky has been watching with those judgy eyes. Billie assures him that Vern has a very cute boyfriend, but Nucky sure doesn't think Vern comes across that way. Anyway, Billie wants to talk about what's gone on. Nucky apologizes on Margaret's behalf and says they had a talk about it and it won't be a problem anymore. Billie wasn't talking about that -- she's talking about how the show was closing one minute and now it's not. She knows he did something to change Shubert's mind, though he insists he didn't. "What would it matter," he says, "if you get what you want." He assures her that her father didn't know what he was talking about. Boy, Margaret was wrong when she said Nucky wouldn't know how to deal with a woman who doesn't need saving. A lady with domineering-dad issues is all he needs.
Billie heads to the stage for rehearsals and stands to her pal Eddie, who's not her pal anymore. Nucky took that away from the both of them. She very sweetly and honestly thanks him and tells him whatever he's doing there, she promises she won't let him down. Eddie turns to her with dead eyes and asks if she knows who Lucy Danziger is. WHOA. Billie obviously doesn't. Eddie turns away. "The one won't know a goddamn thing about you either." It's such a shame nobody else will ever hear that line, because it's the greatest zinger Eddie will ever deliver. They take the stage and, professional as ever, start rehearsing their number, "You'd Be Surprised." Nucky looks on from the seats; you wonder if he's thinking about friendships destroyed and what it all was for. Sleater approaches with word from Mr. Rothstein: "Four fatalities, none of them Gyp Rosetti." Bummer, huh?
Joe R wonders when all this bootlegging business is gonna start getting fun. He can be reached for lavish praise and nothing but at joseph.reid21@gmail.com.
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