Jeffrey Wright shows up as Dr. Valentin Narcisse, who happens to be a couple of levels above the murdered Dickie Pastor. He's got the newly widowed Alma with him, playing the role of traumatized rape victim. Nucky and Chalky know it’s bullshit, but Nucky decides Narcisse will get a 10 per cent stake in the Onyx Club. “It’s better off settled,” he tells Chalky, who wants a more permanent solution to the trouble, especially given the disdain he gets from Narcisse, all imperiousness and Bible verses. Unsurprisingly, Narcisse has no use for Alma once he got what he wanted, and sneers at her congress with Dunn Purnsley. “A thing mixed is a thing weakened,” he tells her, right before she’s literally dragged through the mud.
Another layer to Agent Knox this week! He’s an undercover agent working for acting director Hoover, J. Edgar, and not even Gaston Means is aware of it (or if he is, he doesn’t let Nucky know).
Eddie Kessler tenders his resignation, which Nucky decides to stave off -- not with his initial offer of money -- which Nucky confuses with respect, but with a promotion. And Richard Harrow is so tired of killing that he pardons a man he’s got a contract on. He can’t bring himself to kill the dying family dog, either, although that’s because he played with it as a pup. But Harrow’s real trouble is that his sister has no one else and a baby on the way, and owes money on the not-exactly-raking-it-in family farm.
And still no Margaret!
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. He loves Jeffrey Wright and all, but haven’t we seen this sort of character a hundred times before? Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel@gmail.com.
Jesus! If you were missing Van Alden from last week (first of all, who are you?) you get a whole lot of him right off the top, with his face filling the frame in the opening shot. He’s delivering a bouquet to a new mother, flowers to a funeral, and a punch to the face…all with accompanying congratulations, condolences and a demand for repayment, respectively, from O’Bannion. So that’s still happening. The last delivery sees the recipient wind up on the floor on his back, nose bloodied, swearing he’ll have the money tomorrow. "Better to not vow than to vow and not pay," says Van Alden solemnly, as he yoinks whatever money the guy has on him. I actually doubt that O’Bannion would have more patience for someone not pledging to repay, but I suppose that’s not the point. At any rate, I think I’d prefer, if I were a deadbeat, to merely take my licks and not have to listen to a little lecture from Aesop here.
We’re a couple minutes in and Richard Harrow, returning to the family home, still hasn’t murdered anyone. What the balls? His sister tells him that "Samson ran off" this morning. This is a dog who is apparently too old and blind to hunt, a puppy that Richard himself played with as a puppy. While Richard and Emma talk about Samson, Richard gets himself a cup of coffee and puts in a stick of something, and I have no idea what it is. I’m not a coffee drinker, so far all I know this is something completely normal, but the camerawork sure seems to want me to take note of it.
Anyway, Emma asks Richard if he went to see their father, by which it’s immediately clear she means their father’s grave. Richard says their father was born in 1862, not 1869 as the tombstone reads. This is news to Emma, but Richard says their dad never wanted their mother to know just how much older he was. (I don’t blame him; my wife is younger than I am, and don’t think that isn’t constant cause for hilarity). Richard says his dad told him before he left for Fort Riley, since he didn’t want Richard to wait as long as he had before starting a family. "Stone’s bought and paid for. No changing it now," says Emma, looking slightly hurt that Richard — gone for however long, at this point — was more in their father’s confidence than she was.
As for their father’s death, Richard wants to know if it was quick, and Emma says he didn’t even want the minister around, having not much truck with that sort of business in the last couple of years. "So I was there, Gerald was there. He liked Jerry. You would have liked him, I think," says Emma. Richard thinks he remembers knowing him, Emma reminding him that his family runs the gravel pit out on Lake Road. Richard remembers the older one, Hubert, who Emma tells him comes around to help out.
After a moment, Richard says, "I’m sorry, Em." She responds with the worst nursery rhyme ever: "Orphaned in April, married in May, pregnant in August, widowed in November." At least she has a dark sense of humor about it. Then she turns to him, which is when we see that this pregnancy is a current condition. She says she won’t ask where he’s been or what he’s been doing, but she does want to know if he’s staying. Richard says he has to go to Milwaukee for the day, to the Veterans Bureau. "I didn’t ask," says Emma suddenly, and then she asks if he still reads. "Of course…everything you sent me," he says. So she hands him a book and says she couldn’t ever get the first ten pages, but he always liked stories with sword fights. He reaches for the book but she stops his hand to say she doesn’t know what brought him back, but if he doesn’t come back again, he shouldn’t come back at all, saying, "I couldn’t bear it." Emma goes out to look for Samson, and Richard looks at the copy of The Chessmen of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs that she has just handed him. (Oh, god, is this a John Carter thing?) Opening it, he finds folded it in its pages a bill from the Plover County assessor; Emma’s way behind on her tax bill.
Eddie Kessler unsteadily wheels Nucky’s breakfast in, crashing into a chair. He then wobbly sets a plate down and sloshes coffee on the table, after shooting his boss a wounded look when Nucky attempts to take the coffee from him to do it himself. "I will clean it," Eddie says, refusing to be assuaged by Nucky’s assurances. "It’s only coffee," says Nucky. "Everything is only something," Eddie shoots back, indignantly, and then he blots the coffee table for half an hour until Nucky makes him stop so he can eat his overcooked breakfast. Nucky’s mouth tells Eddie it’s fine, but the rest of Nucky’s face says otherwise. He then admits it’s "a little hard" which Eddie translates to "it is inedible." Can’t say Nucky’s really interested in making Eddie feel better when he asks, "Why’d you serve it then?" A slightly petulant Eddie says he doesn’t know.
Sighing heavily, Nucky also offers help to Eddie pack for Nucky’s upcoming trip to Florida. Not his help, but Tom’s. "Somehow, I believe, I am up to the task of selecting your shoes, your shoes, your suits and your delicate undergarments, as challenging as that might appear," says Eddie. Holy shit! Is Eddie drunk? This is the sauciest we’ve ever seen him.
A little more mild bickering ensues, Nucky not appearing to even really know how he’s supposed to respond to Eddie’s shortness. Eventually we get around to finding out that Eddie will be driving Nucky to "the construction site" later on today. "I will endeavor not to crash the car," he says. No offense, Eddie, but it is a possibility, apparently.
In a greenhouse, Van Alden snips the thorns off yellow roses, which surprisingly don’t wilt under his powerful grimace. He sneezes as O’Banion comes in, allowing Dean to point out that he’s "selling hydrangeas, not the grippe." (I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t mind if a portion of each show were dedicated to just listing old-timey diseases). Van Alden hands his collection money to O’Banion’s lackey, telling him that most everyone paid. O'Banion asks about those that didn't. "They also paid," says Van Alden, uncomfortably. I imagine Van Alden’s quite organized on this front. It’d be a little tough if he mixed up the deliveries to, say, a grieving widow and a degenerate gambler. (Note: I said "degenerate" gambler because it’s the law to use that adjective when talking about a gambler in an organized crime context).
O’Banion grabs the apron from him, unable to bear watching Van Alden snap the heads off the flowers. Then it’s small talk time, with O’Banion asking after Van Alden’s "Viking brood" and Van Alden trying to ask if he can go home now (whilst appearing like he’s trying to pass a kidney stone). But there’s more to the chat than just social niceties. O’Banion’s trying to suggest Van Alden might need some extra "cabbage" for the family, and "our wops over in Cicero need some extra muscle." O’Banion explains that Van Alden’s going to help keep the voters informed, and then gets pissed when Van Alden says he’d rather not get behind on his deliveries. Anyone can make deliveries, he points out, but O’Banion wants someone in Cicero "who can think on his feet." Then he pushes Van Alden a few times, claiming he’s just wiping the pollen off his hand. He tells Van Alden to keep an eye on Al and Frank and if they’re planning to stay in Cicero, no problem. If they’re talking about coming to Chicago (between "bites of macaroni," because they’re Italian) that’s something O’Banion needs to know about.
At the Onyx Club, Chalky is proudly showing off his place to his daughter Maybelle and her fiancé Sam Crawford, as well as an older couple, who unsurprisingly turn out to be Sam’s parents. Sam’s mother is impressed with the chandeliers — sconces, Chalky corrects her, and he would know — but Sam’s father is a little wary of Sam having developed a taste for the finer things in life. Everyone feels awkward for a moment, before Chalky assures Sam’s parents that they’re going have a proper Shiloh Baptist ceremony and the reception right there at the club. Maybelle jokes that maybe they’ll promise to never have another party again, and her future father-in-law seems to lighten up.
Then it's time for Dunn Pursley to come lurching into the club and glower at everyone. Sam continues to prove himself a worthy addition to the family when he offers to show his parents the club room, and Chalky promises that he’ll catch up with them. He just needs to chew out Dunn Purnsley for not having been able to track down Alma Pastor yet.
Over to the construction site referred to earlier, where Mayor Bader, by a large sign promising "The Future" by Bader Construction, is loudly proclaiming himself a builder. He needs to assure the skeptical press corps present that all of the bidding on projects -- like this church -- was open. He’s cartoonishly flustered by Nucky’s car pulling up a short distance away, but the reporters don’t appear to notice (I could do with a little less of the slightly vaudevillian aspects that crop up with Bader) and he shoos them away to go get some pictures while he climbs into the back of Nucky’s car. Nucky punctures Bader’s false cheer but icily points out that Nucky had to come see him. Bader claims he’s been busy, first of all, and second of all he can’t come to the club because of the "jackals" out there.
Nucky illustrates Goodfellas motto of "Fuck you, pay me," very well here, and Bader is genuinely surprised that Nucky thinks he’s owed a piece of this, since this is strictly from the diocese. So Nucky asks a surprised Eddie what he thinks, which comes as a surprise to Eddie, who nevertheless turns around in his seat and awesomely tells Bader; "Mr. Thompson is part of everything. He is in the sky and sea. He is in the dreams of children at night. He is all that there is, forever." Having said his piece, he turns back around.
There’s not much Bader can argue after that, and before long he’s promising to bring Nucky’s share to him tomorrow morning, if that’s okay. Nucky magnanimously says of course it is, and then Bader’s out of the car again.
At a bank, a manager returns to his office, confused to find a copy of The Chessmen of Mars in his inbox, and even more confused to see Richard Harrow holding a gun on him. Things become clearer when Richard — after instructing the man to slowly put his gun down on the floor — asks him if he knows a Carl Billings. "He does", says the man. Billings was a former partner of this man with a Werner whom they apparently ousted. Richard explains that he met Billings on a train, and Billings hired him to kill him, Werner and the two men they sent after Billings (and the killings last episode are suddenly explained) for a thousand dollars a head.
The supposed-to-be-dead man offers to beat that price, if that’s what this is about. He crosses to his desk, claiming to have money here, only when he opens a drawer and Richard sees a gun in it. Richard slams the drawer shut and pins the man’s hand, and forces his head down on the desk. But he doesn’t shoot, and instead asks if the guy has any children. Richard has to pull the man to his feet and put the gun in his face before he finally answers, which is that he’s got a wife and two girls. Aw! Richard holds the gun on him for a while longer before lowering it and croaking, "When you see your children tonight, remember I didn’t cost you anything." He backs off, looks at the gun in the drawer, back at the dude with disdain, and then picks up his sister’s book before heading out the door.
Over at the distillery, Nucky’s conferring with Eli before he heads out to Florida, and he promises to bring something back for the kids. Eli suggests a bag of oranges, and Nucky grouches that that’s an awful lot to be carrying around. Jesus, Nuck, you offered. They meet up with Mickey Doyle, who whines that it’s about time, because he’s all out of small talk. Whatever meeting they’ve got now, Nucky’s impatient to get it over with. Well, there’s Agent Elliot, who seems equally unhappy to be there, telling Nucky he’s got a closed-door meeting in Washington tomorrow. "Mellon and Coolidge moving the chess pieces around again," he says. Elliott glances over to where Agent Knox is hanging out, and tells Nucky he wants to get off on the right foot and let Nucky know how things are going to work, and then he calls the lad over.
Knox stammers through introducing himself and starting to talk about his predecessor, but Elliot hurries him along, chalking it up to sacrifice in the line of duty. Anyway, Knox just wanted to let Nucky know that, as the new head of Prohibition enforcement in Atlantic City, he intends to take his duties with the utmost seriousness, and enforce the existing laws to the very best of his abilities. Nucky got a frown, Eli got a frown, Mickey Doyle got a frown…everybody got a frown!
Nucky asks, "What?" Knox starts smiling and tells Nucky it was a joke. This revelation does not impress anyone there or fill the room with raucous laughter, and Nucky asks Knox where he’s from. Atkins, Iowa, is the answer, which doesn’t help Nucky any. He has to cut Knox off from what sounds like it could be a long discussion on the merits of Iowa’s secondary highways and the best ways to get Cedar Rapids. Nucky just wants to tell him how it’s going to work. Any concerns or needs he has, he’ll meet with Eli. "But you and I are not going to meet again. That’s how the system works," says Nucky, who asks if there was any part Knox didn’t understand. "Could you repeat the part of the stuff when you said all about the things?" says Knox. Well, actually, he says, "No, sir. You were really succinct." Given that we know Knox isn’t what he seems, it’s safe to say he’s flirting with sarcasm while appearing quite sincere.
Over at the Van Alden/Mueller household, Sigrid leads Van Alden -- with his eyes closed -- into the unfinished living room to show him the new davenport. "Oh my," says Van Alden, not entirely pleased, but I do love the Scandinavian accent when Sigrid says, "Yes, it is the best one." She’s very happy to let her husband be the first one to sit on it, as he will after his hard days at work. Van Alden, not surprisingly, points out that they have chairs to sit on (and he will go on to ably demonstrate "sitting on a chair"), but Sigrid feels this is "more proper." I enjoy seeing Van Alden in discomfort and distress, so the look on his face when he finds out that there’s also a credenza, table and chairs, cedar chest and bed on the way too, for $360. One inflation calculator I used put the value in today’s dollars at about $5,000. Oh, but it gets better…it’s a rent-to-own deal, just $15 a week for a year! That’s more than half Van Alden’s pay and he starts to freak out that it all has to go back. Oh, husbands are adorable!
She points out she has to live in the house with the walls that aren’t painted and doors not hung, and Van Alden makes excuses about the wrong doors coming with the kit. Sigrid quickly switches to soothing his battered non-handyman ego and tells him he’ll figure it out, being so smart and strong. But that’s the house, and she wants to make the home, for him and the children. Well, how’s he going to argue with that? But it does mean Van Alden’s really going to need that extra cabbage now.
Chalky does his rounds in the back of the Onyx Club. He's absolutely reveling in running the joint, doling out instructions to the kitchen staff, chiding musicians for smoking pot, exhorting the dancing girls to kick extra high, fronting the tap dancers their money in advance.
Then it’s time to head out among the tables and dancing couples. He only stops smiling when he sees someone looking down at everything through the sitting room window upstairs. He looks like he’s about to head up there himself when he’s stopped by a drunk loudmouth who wants to make jokes about the old place going out "with a bang" and then faux spars with Chalky. He enjoys himself so much that he orders up drinks on the house for the guy and his date, and the loudmouth has to go and rub Chalky’s head for good luck. A POV shot from upstairs lets us know that Chalky’s visitor is taking all this in, too. Chalky takes the head-rubbing in as much good humor as he can muster, but his good mood is gone by the time he leaves again to head upstairs.
That’s where he finds the visitor (played by Jeffrey Wright) discussing Timothy 2:9 -- “that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control" -- with one Alma Pastor, looking a lot more demure and sedate than the last time we saw her. He introduces himself as "Dr. Valentin Narcisse" to the wary Chalky, who obviously needs no introduction to Alma.
"What you doing in the private rooms, doctor?" asks an unfriendly Chalky. An unruffled Narcisse says he had no choice, as "the Libyan" may serve in the club and perform at the club but not attend the club. Chalky doesn’t think much of this Libyan talk -- or being called one by Narcisse, who tells him their roots go deep, across oceans to the mother country, "where all things begin."
Alma looks nervous, and Narcisse assures her that this is a civilized conversation between two civilized men. Chalky’s looking like he wants Narcisse to get to the point quickly. Narcisse doesn’t appear to be one to be hurried, and he sits down and invites Chalky to do the same. "You’re Owney Madden’s man," deduces Chalky, and it doesn’t take a genius to know already that Narcisse will have not much time for that characterization. He does allow that he has dealings with Madden. No, he's there because -- and he warns Alma’s delicate sensibilities here -- Chalky’s employee slashed Narcisse’s employee’s throat quite savagely. "Which employee was that?" asks Chalky, and he seems genuinely confused about who Narcisse might be talking about. How many throats can Nucky’s employee slash any given day, good god?!
Narcisse checks Dunn’s name with Alma -- who gets a death glare from Chalky so hard she can’t maintain eye contact -- and Narcisse says Dickie Pastor had an eye for talent, but not so much anymore. (This gets us to the centerpiece clip from Season 4 trailers: "What shall we do, Mr. White. What shall we do." He says it in a way that question marks are not necessary. I’d have to find it again, but I don’t believe "Mr. White" was part of the audio in the trailers. I supposed we were expected to think it was directed at Nucky).
Anyway, Chalky says he hasn’t seen Dickie for three days and heard he was heading off to Newark, so maybe Narcisse should try there. But Narcisse says that would be a waste of his time. "You wastin’ it now," says Chalky, who suggests asking around Newark again. Chalky and Narcisse stare each other down, until Alma asks if they can’t just go. "You want to leave it at this?" Narcisse asks Chalky, who points out he’s not the one who picked it up in the first place. Narcisse stands to go, and Alma precedes him out the door. Narcisse stops with his hand on the doorknob, and says he likes this room, because you can look down in secret and see many things. "You know what I saw? A servant pretending to be a king," he says, and with that, he’s out of there.
Okay, look, if we’re going to be getting our news — like Attorney General Daugherty Resigns, President Coolidge Takes Action — from newspapers every week, can’t we at least do the thing where they spin-fly towards the camera at us? Nucky’s reading the newspaper, and here comes Wobbly Eddie in with his breakfast. Actually, his hand much more steady this time as he pours Nucky’s coffee. He also delivers a satchel full of cash from Mayor Bader that Nucky glances briefly at and then puts it down. But Eddie’s got something else for him, an envelope from his jacket pocket.
Nucky drags out of him that it’s his resignation, because Nucky does not take him seriously. Nucky’s all, "Damn, I’m sorry you got shot! Quit breaking balls!" Man, Eddie gets a lot to do this episode! He delivers a stinging lecture about how he’s taken care of Nucky for eleven years, dressed and undressed him (I really hope Eddie gets paid a lot), fought for him, and watched lesser, duplicitous men, come and go, but he’s still here. Nucky asks what he wants, and Eddie says, "Respect." Nucky protests that he does respect Eddie, who says he wants Nucky to demonstrate it. I laughed at the way Nucky just shrugs and hands the satchel of mayoral payoff right back to Eddie, who sniffs that it’s beneath Nucky. "I don’t know that it is," says Nucky, sincerely, again making me laugh. Nucky seems to be growing weary of the argument and asks if he’s quitting or asking for a promotion. "This will be for you to decide," says Eddie.
Over at the Harrow Family Farm of Grimness and Death, Richard is working on a harrow when Emma comes over to tell him she needs his help. She found Samson by some rundown shack. The dog doesn’t look well. He’s dying, Emma tells Richard, who crouches by the dog and reaches his hand out to stroke the poor dog. Richard asks his sister what she wants to do. She’s holding a shotgun that she says she can’t use on the dog. The Springfield, Richard suggests, and Emma says there are no cartridges. This weirdly seems to be about Emma forcing Richard to admit he’s got a pistol that he hid when he came back, and then took with him to the Veterans’ Bureau.
Richard looks at her for a moment and then takes out his gun. His sister asks him to please do it quickly (so no using the slow bullets) and Richard slowly lifts the gun and points it at his whimpering dog. His hand shakes, and then he starts to sob a little, and finally lowers his gun and says he can’t. Emma takes the gun from him, and Richard walks away. "I don’t want any more of it," he says. I mean, fair enough. He killed more people eight months ago alone than most people go through in five years. He walks around the corner, and flinches when he hears the gunshot.
Over to Cicero, now, where Al Capone is brandishing a rolled-up newspaper and telling a room full of thugs that they’re going to get some unidentified poor saps all caught up on the headlines. "Two a youse each exit, and come in swinging, and don’t you stop. I want that room empty in two minutes," he says. Frank and Joe soften it a little, telling the gang to enjoy their work but to leave them able to talk to their pals. "Voting Democrat is bad for their health," he says. Nice to see Republic tactics haven’t changed in ninety years, amirite? Seriously, folks, I kid. You guys are all right. I’ll be at the Sheboygan Motor Inn, exit 39, all weekend.
Capone points out the chow and tells them to "fill [their] holes" and as the crowd shuffles around and mutters about the "grub" or whatever. Capone finally spots Van Alden, who’s been trying to be inconspicuous, which is difficult when you’re as big as he is and sporting a weapons-grade scowl.
"How come we don’t talk anymore?" asks Capone, after first incorrectly identifying Van Alden as that "Swedish" guy. Van Alden meekly says O’Banion has him delivering flowers, and he’s not involved in anything else. "I told Deany, send me your biggest and brightest. He gets it half-right," says Capone, cackling. It’s Frank who notes Van Alden’s bloody knuckles and shows them to his brothers. Van Alden starts looking terrified, and says he just does what O’Banion tells him. Al’s brothers interrogate Van Alden on what O’Banion wants by sending Van Alden here. A little flustered, Van Alden carefully says, "I believe Mr. O’Banion hopes very much Cicero becomes your new home."
Capone gets angry, saying he knew it, and told Torrio that as soon as their backs were turned, that "scheming mick fuck" (or maybe "Scheming McFuck"?) would grab as much territory as he could. Capone remembers now that Van Alden was supposed to come to him with any information, in exchange for the mercy Capone showed him. That particular deal seems to effectively be off, as Al grabs at Van Alden’s tie. Frank pulls Al off, and plays good cop to Al’s crazy psycho cop, relaxing him a little by suggesting strongly that Van Alden just delivers flowers and was just offering an opinion. Ain’t that right, pal? "I really don’t know anything," says Van Alden. (You mean like what they’re doing with your character anymore?) With the air cleared, Frank tells Van Alden to "grab a sap and a sandwich," because he’s gonna need both.
Over at the Onyx, a seething Chalky fills in Dunn Purnsley about Dr. Narcisse, and how Chalky played dumb. But, with Alma there it’s not like Narcisse doesn’t know what happened. Dunn offers to take care of both of them. "Lotta room in that swamp," he says. Not at the rate you seem to be bent on going. Chalky warns him off of that, so Dunn asks what kind of doctor Narcisse is. Chalky’s all, "You know, given how we were discussing your stabbing to death of her husband, we didn’t get around to it".
Dunn’s warming up to ranting about how Narcisse doesn’t give a shit about Alma, but is just sniffing around here when Chalky suddenly notices that the band’s not downstairs playing. A knock on the door reveals the tap dancers outside. They tell Chalky that Narcisse won’t let them play, because he owns a piece of them. "He owns a piece of everybody," explains one. The other hands over a note addressed to Chalky. "A servant is not greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who dispatched him," reads the dancer.
Here’s Gaston Means now, on the phone with Nucky, who apparently asks Means to run a check on Agent Knox. Means hasn’t turned up much, though. Means was second in his class at James Polk High School and has a few years in sales and part-time mail carrying. And yes, he’s from Atkins, Iowa. "I’d say your Agent Knox is a hayseed of the purest variety," says Means.
We seem to now be at "Pflaum for Mayor" headquarters, where this Pflaum is winding up the crowd with a speech as boring as his last name would suggest. Capone and his thugs start spilling into the hall from the back, making their way to the front, menacingly brandishing clubs and bats. Within seconds, Capone and his men start swinging, with pandemonium erupting as people start shrieking and heading for the exits. Van Alden, both hands out, actually tries to shush the crowd, at least until he gets punched in the face, at which point he Hulks out and starts destroying people. Then he gets a chair in the face, which would make for a GIF that I would be willing to pay tens of dollars to acquire. Al Capone is gleefully cracking skulls, while Frank helps a groggy Van Alden to his feet, puts his hat back on, and starts smashing some Democrat voters himself.
Chalky vs. Narcisse, Round 2: this time with testimony from Alma, who lies her way through a story of Dunn attacking and raping her, while her brave lil’ husband tried to fight him off. Oh, and Nucky’s there, with a handkerchief at the ready so Alma can dry her eyes and compose herself. Narcisse stops him, as he’s got one for her himself. She excuses herself to the powder room.
Nucky addresses "Mr. Narcisse," who corrects him as to his title of doctor, "I studied too long to forgo it." Nucky obliges, and everyone sits down to get down to cases. Nucky’s skeptical, wondering just how it was Dickie knew in which hotel Dunn and Alma were, which Narcisse smoothly chalks up to Dickie being resourceful. As for Dunn’s version of the story? "Well, a rapist kills, and a killer lies," says Narcisse. Furthermore, the onus for proof is really on Chalky, because they’re talking about a woman "of the Nordic tribe" and a "Libyan man," so "the verdict is inescapable."
"Say how much," growls Chalky, who wants this over with. Narcisse continues in his annoyingly unflappable way, telling Nucky that this is why he’d prefer to deal with him. "Only kings understand each other." Nucky says he’s just trying to help a friend, and Narcisse gets all, "Friend, is it?" Narcisse tells Nucky his friend has a problem: a club with no acts. "We’ll find new ones," says Nucky. Narcisse notes the "we" and says maybe it’s more than just friendship, or less. "I think, perhaps, less," he says. Look, is every scene with this guy going to take half an hour?
Even Nucky is now asking "What’s your price?" Narcisse says Nucky has to decide what his friendship is worth. Chalky angrily says he’s not paying a dime to Narcisse’s "Jamaican ass" and Narcisse calmly (at this point he’s refusing to even look at Chalky ) says he’s from Trinidad. "I don’t give a fuck where you from, or where the fuck you going back to," says Chalky. He keeps on like that for a moment until Nucky interrupts with this: "Ten." Ten percent of the club, the acts come back, and "the other problem goes away." Just so we’re clear, that’s "goes away", with extreme prejudice, right? Or ultimate finality, or terminal velocity? Nucky tells a surprised Chalky that it’s a fair price, and he’s going to pay it. "That’s my judgment," says Nucky, looking kind of pleased with himself.
Chalky snorts, and Narcisse accepts. "It’s better off settled," Nucky tells Chalky, who is looking downcast.
That’s Alma’s cue to come back in, saying she didn’t want to intrude. "It’s time to take you away," says Narcisse, because everything means two things! In the hall, Alma comes up short at the sight of Dunn Purnsley, who stands up as she passes. "Get your story all told?" he sneers, standing up. She doesn’t answer, but Narcisse calls him, "The Negro in question." "What does that make you?" Dunn asks him. "Merely another child of God," says Narcisse, strolling by.
Agent Elliot’s in the closed-door meeting he was telling Nucky about, smoking and looking rather put out to have to answer questions about what he knows about "the Adelphi Apothecary on Pacific Avenue." "It’s a drugstore, gentleman," he says, sarcasm coating every syllable.
"What about Gerald McHugh?", asks one of the two questioners. The second notes that this McHugh ran a still that was raided by the late Agent Sawicki just 26 days ago, yet Elliot signed a release order for McHugh just an hour later. "I sign a lot of orders, son," sighs Elliot. "I’m not your son," says Interrogator Two, a tight close-up telling us to get used to this face. Elliot says it’s just an expression, and if Sawicki felt McHugh was more useful as a confidential informant.
But he doesn’t get to finish the thought, because the questioning turns to Enoch Thompson. Elliot, unable to hide at least a little surprise, allows that he knows him. "You know of him, or you know him?" says Interrogator Two, and Elliot finally wants to know who he is. "Who is this child?" he asks. "You may address me as acting director Hoover,” says Interrogator Two. Acting director of what, Elliot wants to know. "The Bureau of Investigation," says Hoover triumphantly, and Elliot finally realizes that maybe this isn’t your usual closed-door meeting. "What is this, Ira?" he asks the man (a supervisor or fellow agent, I guess) to him. "We’re co-operating, Fred," says Ira. Oh, screw you, Ira. (And co-operating not just with Hoover, but with his… undercover operative?)
A door opens and in walks Agent Knox, who lays an envelope on the table in front of Elliot, who wants to know what it is. "That’s the cash you gave me yesterday, sir, after our meeting with Nucky Thompson," says Knox, blankly. Elliot angrily calls Knox a "lying piece of a shit". He says he wants a lawyer, and Hoover says there isn’t going to be anything like that: no lawyers, no calls or no telegrams. "No alerting Nucky Thompson or anyone else, or you’re subverting the course of justice," says Hoover. Elliot says he’s not playing this game, and denies anything to do with the cash or having ever even met Nucky. He draws himself up, ranting about being a U.S.-born citizen and not some Bolshevik. It's just getting good when he realizes no one in the room is particularly impressed, and he stops, and he’s escorted out by two burly agents.
Once Elliot’s gone, Knox sounds genuinely puzzled when he asks, "Why can’t they just admit they’re guilty?" Hoover pompously says, “The moral dimension is absent from the criminal’s makeup." Isn’t one new pretentious character enough? And Gaston Means was back this episode too. There’s only so much affectation I can take. Anyway, Hoover praises Knox’s "good beginning" and calls him “Jim,” and Knox beams and says, "I won’t let you down, Edgar." Just in case there’s one barely sentient person watching who only now realizes who this Hoover asshole is.
It’s a dark, rainy night as Narcisse and Alma presumably ride back to New York, chauffeured by two men in the front seat. Alma thanks Narcisse for coming to her rescue, but she might want to hold off on that. "Like a prince in a fairytale," says Narcisse, smiling, and Alma says he is, to her. Then she asks if he got what he wanted. "We will have to see. Dickie was a loss. A very great loss," he answers.
Alma wants to know what will happen to Purnsley. Intrigued by her interest, Narcisse asks what she wants to happen. "What happened to Dickie, but worse," she says. Narcisse is all, "Ah, the Old Testament," and asks if maybe some rope should be involved. Because she’s an idiot, Alma asks, "Well, why not?"
All Narcisse has to do is catch the eye of his driver, who immediately pulls over, claiming he needs to check the tires. I get there’s some debate as to when Alma’s death sentence was decided on, with some suggesting it was here, when she discussed lynching a black man with Dr. Libya here, but I think it’s fairly clear her fate was sealed back at the Onyx Club. She’s the other problem, and she has to go away.
It doesn’t take a genius to see what’s going to happen here, but apparently the driver and the other henchman know enough, when they get out of the car, to give Narcisse a few minutes to chat with Alma in the back seat. "A thing mixed is a thing weakened," he tells her. She asks if it’s from the Bible. "It is from me," he says. Now she’s getting nervous, and makes a joke about how it’s nice for cocktails, but it’s a joke that doesn’t land because Narcisse in all seriousness says that’s because they hide impurities. "But they are there, and with each dilution, the spirit slips away, the spirit and the color, until nothing authentic is left," he says. Then he asks how Dickie knew what hotel to find her in. She has trouble answering, and then points out that he himself said Dickie was resourceful. "I was lying," he says bluntly.
Now, even Alma knows her chances of seeing the other end of this car ride are less than zero, and she says she was raped. Narcisse is unmoved, calling it a tale he’s heard "one time too many," which is the cue for his men to drag the screaming Alma from the backseat, dragging her by her neck along the ground as she chokes. It’s over in seconds, and Narcisse drives away.
Looks like Nucky opted for a promotion for Eddie Kessler instead of money, as they’re in a train station and Nucky is spelling out to Eddie that anything he sees or hears. Anything Nucky tells him to do, Eddie is not to discuss it with anyone. Can’t say I blame Eddie for looking a little offended, here, as he says, "I never have, and I never will." Nucky tells him to open a safe deposit box, the biggest one the bank’s got, and stash the money there; there’ll be lots more to come. "In whose name?" asks Eddie, and Nucky’s eyes narrow. At some point he’s going to have to give Eddie the credit he deserves. Make it yours, says Nucky, and Eddie says that’s what he was going to suggest. "What’s more", Nucky says, "from now on Tom will bring his meals". And then he’s off, catching the Royal Palm train to Tampa.
The phone rings in the Harrow house: Richard answers, his gravelly voice clearly not what the caller was expecting. Richard has to say "hello" a couple of times before the caller identifies himself as being with the County Assessor's office. Richard says Emma’s not there, but when asked if he’s a member of the household, identifies himself as her brother. The man says he’s sorry to have to inform him, but there are three years’ back taxes due on the property. We go to the caller’s location, which is the office of the man Richard was supposed to kill, but didn’t. He’s dead now, though, blood and gore still dripping down the wall against which his body is slumped. "The sooner we get that all straightened out, the better," says the guy, who’s looking at the folded assessment that used to be in Richard’s book. Right now, I’m assuming it’s Billings, but I’m certainly not married to it.
Over at the church construction site, Mayor Bader pushes his way through a crowd of workers and onlookers gathered around the lifeless body of Alma Pastor, already almost unrecognizable after a night in the rain and the mud. Why can’t a corrupt mayor ever catch a break?
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. He thinks Brother Mouzone, er, Dr. Valentin Narcisse is a fine addition to the show. Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel@gmail.com.