Nucky meets with Bill McCoy about the land deal in Florida, and meets McCoy's associate Arthur Tucker. Nucky's wary of big-fish-in-a-small-pond Tucker, and of the deal itself, as his own due diligence has indicated that the increasing development around the land would make it much too risky for his own entrepreneurial purposes. But Florida's not all bad, as Nucky meets Sally Wheet (played by Patricia Arquette), a bartender who's not afraid to give him a little shit over his non-relationship with his son. This gives Nucky an "I like strong women!" boner that will, of course, go away, like it did with Margaret (who still hasn't shown up yet).
Nucky is at first pissed that McCoy tried to swing a bad deal with him, but it turns out that McCoy is in major debt to Tucker, and this deal was supposed to help that. Nucky likes to help his friends, though, especially when there's a sassy dame around, and winds up agreeing to the deal. He doesn't know yet, though, that Tucker right at that moment has a machete wedged in his lifeless skull.
Back home, Narcisse is wasting no time wedging himself in, meeting with Arnold Rothstein and Dunn Purnsley as he moves his chess pieces around (the chess pieces are made of heroin). Hey, if there's greater supply, Gillian might appreciate it; she still needs to get right even though she's leading the illusion of a life of domestic bliss, pretending to be Roy Philips' wife. Her illusion is instantly dispatched when a friend of the Jimmy lookalike she killed spots her and appears to try to press her for info, at least until Gillian works the damsel-in-distress angle to get Philips to tell the kid to "take it on the arches."
Richard's erstwhile employer Billings has indeed caught up with him, and tries to take him out. But Emma's going to keep doing the killing for the Harrow family (well, Richard takes out Billings' thug) and shoots Billings in the head.
And Willie gets a nice long subplot in which he decides to score some hooch for a party at school, mainly to make friends and get in a girl's pants. There's a bit of an altercation with Mickey Doyle when Willie and a buddy try to just walk out with some, but then Doyle relents, giving us the gift of watching a party that could almost have come from a Prohibition-era Reefer Madness-style propaganda film about the evils of alcohol. Willie is the toast of Temple, gets the girl and then is humiliated when his romantic rival leads a gaggle of students into the darkened library to catch Willie and his hard-on making out with the girl. This Henry kid is probably going to end up dead.
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. He's starting to wish all the gangsters on this show said, "…see?" at the end of every sentence. Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel@gmail.com.
Nucky, flanked by bodyguards, makes his way to a hotel room somewhere near the beach, judging from the sounds of the birds and the waves outside, and later his old buddy McCoy on a patio is cutting a coconut in half with a machete, and bragging to Nucky about Tampa: "Land of money, cunny, and where it's always sunny." Jesus, "cunny" is just the worst word. Did anyone ever actually say that, or is just made-up vaguely old-timey slang for movies and television? Nucky says "the first two sound good" because he wants money and he's a total hound, but he's not as fond of the sun. This is because he's as pale as a vampire mortician. McCoy just got out of "eight months in stir" and whines that there's either a "three-mile limit or there isn't," an argument that apparently failed to impress the judge. Maybe if McCoy had shown him how impressive his machete skills are? Nucky doesn't seem too interested in listening to McCoy lament the three ships' worth of Scotch seized — and he grimaces at the drink he gets served, with a pineapple garnish — and wants to move on.
Which means it's time for McCoy to turn up the sell job on the land that Nucky was looking at in the first episode. McCoy says it's right in the gulf, a couple days' sale from the Bahamas, and they could unload certain shipments on the beach and ship it anywhere. Nucky points out he can do that in Jersey. I hope McCoy's got a better sales pitch than "but with better cigars," as Nucky is losing interest fast, and is apparently in danger from wayward tennis balls bouncing around the garden patio of the hotel. McCoy's got a little more work to do, because Nucky didn't spent "twenty-six hours in a Pullman" just to shoot down a proposed deal in fifteen seconds and then turn right around and head back. But right now, Nucky's idea of unwinding is a shower (he ignores McCoy's offer to send round a little, well, cunny later) and they arrange to meet later at a speakeasy called Sally's. "Tucker's very excited to meet you," McCoy assures him. Nucky says most people are, until they do. I realize How to Win Friends and Influence People hasn't been written yet, but I'm sure even in 1924 people would like Nucky a little better if he wasn't grimacing at them all the time.
Over on the Harrow family farm, Richard caresses his .45 automatic one last time before placing it in a hole in the ground that he starts filling in with dirt. Richard, there appears to be some sort of mistake! You're not going to be able to do much killing with a gun in the ground! Richard!
Over in Harlem, Dr. Valentin Narcisse lectures a room full of black men in suits — students, formally or not — about how the Libyan race will be saved by its exceptional men. I assume the first draft of this lecture included the notation "[point to self]." "Education and work are the levers to lift our people," he says, adding that work must be guided by intelligence, and education must teach life. "The new Negro must be tutored in thought and culture."
A woman pops into the study and nods at Narcisse, who wraps up the discussion by telling his audience that no man who contributes the intellectual and moral well-being of a place goes very long without being rewarded. It also helps to extort money from gangsters, I suppose.
When the men have cleared out, Narcisse welcomes a "Mr. Madden" — Owney, I presume — into the room, followed by Arnold Rothstein. Narcisse calls it an honor to have finally made his acquaintance. A.R. smiles one of his patented joyless lip-stretchings, and the three men sit down. "Mr. Madden tells me you're interested in heroin," says Rothstein. Hee, like it's a hobby. I mean, I suppose for some… Still, Narcisse does clarify: "As a commodity, yes." And when Owney says Narcisse is the biggest fish in Harlem, Narcisse is quick to point out he plans to expand to other Libyan markets. Like every white — and one White — character we've seen so far talking to Narcisse, the "Libyan" thing is confusing to Rothstein. Fortunately, Owney Madden is there to explain: "What he calls the coloreds."
So Narcisse orders up "twenty pounds, uncut," which he will weigh himself, "to ensure good measure." That'll cost him $80,000, in large bills only, Rothstein tells him. Narcisse bristles (only verbally — outwardly he's all chuckles and good humor) at Rothstein feeling that it even had to be said. Rothstein points out Narcisse runs the local numbers game, and Wright laughing/not-laughing asks if that means he conducts his business like a schoolboy, dealing only in nickels and dimes.
Rothstein says he didn't mean to offend Narcisse — in a tone that suggests he didn't mean not to, either, and doesn't really care that Narcisse is offended. Narcisse breaks first and they settle the payment arrangements, before Narcisse shows Rothstein out, having other business with Madden. Oh, but first he has to use a handkerchief to wipe that hand that shook the Jew's hand. I always find it amusing that you can have a character be a murdering gangster, but then you find out they're an anti-Semite, and you still go, "tsk."
He tells Owney that "Daughter Maitland" is performing at the Cotton Club, and Narcisse needs her services elsewhere. Owney's all, "No problem, just have Dickie drop by with a replacement." This prompts a bible verse or some such from Narcisse that says something about "every secret thing," which is his version of, "Yeeeeahhhh, about that…" Owney looks at him. "Mr. Pastor will not be returning." Owney continues to look at him.
Over at the Harrow place, some blowhard at the kitchen table is boasting about, of all things, the gravel business. Turns out it's Hubert, the older brother of Dead Gerry. Richard could not be less interested in what Hubert's talking about, but he should pay attention because the moral of the story, stated explicitly by "Hube" (Richard calls him this imperceptibly snidely in response to Hubert calling him "Rick) is "A man's got to know his business." And besides, this guy has helped Emma out, when Richard wasn't around. Hubert checks his watch and says he has to go, but he'll be back Saturday to start clearing out the barn. Emma politely tells him Richard said he'd do it, but Hubert says he doesn't mind, and enjoys the company. Emma diplomatically suggests he call first, and gives him some food for his ride home. "Keep feeding me and I'll keep coming back," says Hubert cheerfully. Well, there is an opening for the family dog… As if reading my mind, Hubert says, "Stray dogs and bachelors, eh, Rick?" Richard nods, all, "You know it, bro!"
Hubert leaves and the brother and sister have a little fun at Hubert's expense, and then Emma tells Richard that Hubert isn't so bad. "As a brother-in-law?" Richard asks. Emma sighs, and sits down and says, Hubert lost someone too. Well, the same person Emma did, anyway. And his folks are good people — wanted her to move into town with them when Gerry died. Emma tells Richard he can have their old room, and she'll set up in their parents' room. The room needs painting, Richard notes, and Emma cheerfully tells him he can add it to his chores. Also, it could use some curtains and a hobbyhorse, and the crib is stored out in the barn.
While she's yammering away, Richard lays some money down on the kitchen table, and Emma's shocked, saying she hasn't asked him for anything. "Just take it and pay the taxes," says Richard. She's all, "The what?" He says he saw the letter, but she says she sold the Hudson and paid the taxes. Richard's all, "But the assessor…" and Emma asks if it was "Mr. Case," and Richard realizes the assessor didn't give a name. Emma says she's not paying the taxes twice, and Richard looks puzzled, wondering who it was he talked to.
Nucky's hanging out in a restaurant full of people in white suits and straw boaters, eavesdropping on the conversation of a young huckster making a real-estate deal with some poor sap falling for the patter of deeds trading hands as much as fifteen times in a single day. And one time a shipping clerk sold his in the bathroom at the train station before he'd even left town, for a cool $15,000 profit! After the whale leaves, Nucky asks the seller if any Joe can buy in. Sure, if you've got the dough, says the agent, who's selling lots in "Pineapple Grove," the hottest new development in Tampa, actually. Nucky cools the proceedings by asking if that shipping clerk cleaned the shit off his hands before signing the deed away. I guess wiping techniques back then weren't quite as advanced as they are today.
Still, the salesman senses an in with Nucky and introductions are exchanged — he's "Skeeter" Walsh, so named because his dad said he was always buzzing around (and not, as Nucky asks, if he's a bloodsucker). Nucky's skeptical of the real-estate racket, noting it's "swampland at a hundred bucks an acre." Skeeter, undeterred, notes that he's just giving the people what they want, which is certainly a philosophy Nucky can relate to. He orders a round of drinks for Skeeter and himself ("Lighter on the blood, heavier on the Mary," he says), and then wants the straight truth from Skeeter about the deal. He says he and the others are "binder boys." They take the "binders" — the deposits, usually about ten per cent, to hold the property. Skeeter tells Nucky it's booming down here since Temple Terrace opened, and there's three more developments in the works — country clubs, golf courses, paved streets. "And the buyers are lining up?" asks Nucky. This news is not impressing Nucky, although it's a little much when we hear thunder crashing when Skeeter says last year there were nine binder boys, and this year there are seventy-four.
We go now to a library where a gramophone is cranking out an old man pontificating on how it's one's duty to be rich, as the richest men in the community are the most honest, which is why they're trusted with money. The sounds of giggling in the background suggest that this might be some sort of sketch-comedy record of the 1920s. This is the Stephen Colbert of 1924!
Actually, it's a library at Temple University, where students are listening to (and being shushed) to a speech by "Old Man Conwell" — that would be Russell Conwell, the university's first president, and this is the speech that gives the episode its title. A group of students in the back, including someone named Henry or Bucket, are laughing about it, Willie standing nearby. As Bucket, the leader — bums a smoke from the bespectacled — and therefore clearly an unpopular nerd — to Willie, it becomes immediately clear that Willie isn't as popular at school as he made out at home (which is ironic, given how much shit his dad gave him for it) but just rattled off the names of classmates. A couple of female students arrive. Bucket suavely says, "Say, nobody told me Colleen Moore enrolled in school." Jesus, I am not that familiar with silent film stars! We get it! You research this shit!
The Colleen Moore lookalike (I'll take your word for it, show) notices Willie, says he sits behind her in English Lit. Bucket doesn't like the attention she's paying to someone else, and tells her tonight after lights out, they've got some Paul Whiteman records, and they're going to "dust off that Victrola." I understand Paul Whiteman was the Andrew WK of his day. Not Colleen Moore tells him she and Doris already have plans with some juniors from Penn Sigma Chi. According to Bucket and his boys, Penn Sigma Chi are "all wet" and the girls are like, "That's why we're going," and I'm starting to get confused. Oh, now Bucket is talking about how they've got "plenty of giggle juice" too but one of his underlings stupidly reveals that they don't, sealing it for the hooch-having boys of Penn Sigma Chi.
The girls start to leave, and Willie speaks up to say he can get his hands on some booze. Everyone's surprised (and skeptical). "I know someone," explains Willie. Bucket's not about to let the opportunity slide by, so he smoothly gets the girls to say they'll join them in the basement, but after they leave it's clear he's not happy at being shown up by Willie. Then he starts grunting like a 1920s Tim Allen. Old Man Conwell is still going on: ""Let us remember, there is not a poor person in America, the United States, who was not made poor by his own shortcomings." For a moment I felt bummed about the way people used to think, and then I realized "'used to'?" and got even more depressed.
Elsewhere, Gillian and Roy Philips are checking out an apartment that she acknowledges is clean and spacious enough to suit a bachelor's needs. Roy takes a poker from the fireplace and says he's half-expecting to see Sherlock Holmes come through the door. Take this seriously, Philips! She's doing this for you! He notes that the windows face west, so it'll be like the Sahara in there by 4 PM. "Then again, I would be at the office," he says. Gillian asks if he's always so indecisive. He admits that he isn't in business, but personally, yes. Gillian calls it endearing, and Roy notes his wife Clara found it maddening. "Well, Clara was wrong," says Gillian. It's true, Roy. There's nothing women love more than indecisive men [eyeroll].
Gillian moves to the room, and Roy follows, hemming and hawing about something until Gillian teases it out of him by noting his indecision again. Finally, he says that this evening, a man named Hewson, a "big Ike" from the A&P chain, is in town with his wife, and he's supposed to meet them for dinner. Hewson's old-fashioned, you see. Gillian's all, "Oh?" and Roy notes she's not making this easy. She smiles and asks if he's asking her to dinner. Yes, but there's more: Hewson thinks Roy's still married. "If he finds out I'm divorcing…" says Roy. "You want me to pretend to be your wife," says Gillian, finally getting it. It's not something a gentleman would ask a lady, says Philips, embarrassed, but as Gillian points out, he didn't even have to. And when the agent strolls in to find out what he thinks of the place, Gillian takes Roy's arm and says, "These rooms won't do," and they stroll out, arm-in-arm.
Over at the Onyx club, Dunn is still in Chalky's bad books, given the busboy duty that Chalky's got him on. When Narcisse strolls in with who I'm guessing is Daughter Maitland, though, it's time for Chalky to get his swerve on. Their eyes lock and they walk in slow motion towards each other. Narcisse introduces Daughter Maitland to Chalky and Dunn. Ha, Chalky didn't even seem to know Dunn was still standing there. "Those tables ain't gonna set theyself," he hollers at him. Daughter offers her hand to Chalky, who says he's pleased to meet her, and Chalky even impresses Narcisse by knowing that Daughter has recorded an album. "You know your business, sir," says Narcisse. "I know what Dickie Pastor held back," says Chalky, not having taken his eyes off Daughter the whole time.
Narcisse gives Daughter directions to a dressing room in the back where she can put her things, and she leaves, two bodyguards accompanying her. Chalky notes how pretty she is, and asks Narcisse what she's doing here. "Performing for the week," Narcisse says. Given it's Narcisse, though, maybe he said, "Performing for the weak." Chalky says he hopes Narcisse is asking and not telling. I'm pretty sure Narcisse was telling, but he backs off somewhat after pointing out that he and Chalky are partners now. "That girl is a star. If you'll have her," he says. This smooths things out enough for Chalky, who agrees, and then yells at Dunn, who's setting the tables. Narcisse notes the sour working relationship and quietly says he thought Dunn managed the staff. "He do as I tell him," says Chalky. Narcisse digs it: "When men make themselves into brutes, it is just to treat them as brutes."
Well, this can only go well. Willie and the four-eyes from school are driving up to the distillery, Willie in the passenger seat. He tells his friend to stop fidgeting. "That man has a shotgun," says his friend. Yeah, I came of age in a province where the drinking age is 18, so I realize it was a lot less stressful for me to get booze in university. Willie tells his buddy to wait in the car, and gets out. Buddy, however, does not want to be left alone, and follows Willie out. They head into the distillery, where Mickey Doyle is chewing out some poor bastard for doing a bad job of disguising a liquor shipment as bananas. "You boys lose your Scout troop?" he says when he sees the two students.
Willie's all smiles and handshakes and acts like he and Mickey are best friends, even though a stone-faced Mickey doesn't appear to recognize him. Well, I'm at college now, says Willie. "Boola-boola," says Mickey, and Buddy points out that's Yale, while they go to Temple. "Funny. You don't look Jewish," says Mickey, still not smiling.
And Willie goes for it, telling Mickey they were hoping to get some booze. No sweat, we'll just call your old man and see what he thinks of it, says Mickey. Willie says they need it for a party, and Mickey tells him to beat it, but Willie persists. "Are you deaf? Or just stupid?" says Mickey. He can be two things! Mickey's such a buffoon so often that I forget how menacing he can be when he wants. "Don't let the door hit you in the brains," says Mickey as the boys walk out.
But Willie decides to help himself to a case anyway while Mickey's distracted, and makes it all of about three feet before one of Doyle's goons grabs him and hauls him back inside where Mickey calls him a fucking thief and slaps him. He threatens to call Eli, and Willie pleads with him not to, and Mickey relents, telling him not to be so dramatic. "It's a good thing your dad's my pal," says Mickey, with Willie not aware enough of everything that's gone on to know that it's really because Eli and Doyle are decidedly not pals that Mickey isn't calling him, and, in the end, letting Willie to take the booze after all. I won't be surprised to see Mickey taking advantage of this. Willie picks up the case of rye, thanks Doyle, and walks out.
Richard is cleaning out the Harrow barn, crib in the foreground. He finds a trophy and a couple of ugly specimens of what used to pass for teddy bears a thousand years ago. He is, of course, beaming. There's also an old book called Good Times that he pages through. Fortunately, no overdue tax bills are inside. He takes a box full of the stuff over to the counter, and then notes the sunlight streaming in through the roof (add roof repair to your chores, Richard) and, his back to the camera, takes off his mask to feel the sun on his scarred skin while birds call outside.
He stands there a moment, then there is a fluttering of wings. He puts the mask on, and footsteps sound behind him. There's a man holding the trophy Richard just found. "Is this something you actually accomplished?" he says. This is Carl Billings, bringing a friend with a gun, the better to jog Richard's memory about meeting on the train last summer — and yes, this is the person who called about the tax bill, with Richard's intended victim dead in the background. "You agreed to take on a certain job. Something you knew how to do," says Billings, adding that Richard said it was the one thing in the world he's good at. They agreed to half then, and half when Richard finished. Only Richard didn't finish, and left a man alive.
Over at the Onyx Club, Daughter Maitland is singing a song about how somebody loves her. Gillian and Roy are there, smiling at each other. Chalky is staring at Daughter, rapt. And by the way, "Daughter"? I mean, is that a name people used back then? Anyway, Gillian and Roy are with (presumably) the A&P big shot and his wife, who's impressed with the "chanteuse" and says they have nothing like that back home. Pretty sure by that she means black people. Gillian asks where home is. Why, it's Evansville! Mr. Hewson asks if she's ever heard of it. Gillian, who looks like she's experiencing painful bowel cramps (perhaps because that's where her dead Jimmy stand-in was from), says she hasn't. The Hewsons notice nothing amiss, so maybe they're blind? Roy makes Gillian happy again by saying they'll have to visit on their anniversary. Light-hearted table banter with undercurrent of tension! Hewson seems a little put out that Gillian knows about A&P considering merging with Piggly-Wiggly, and is a mite judgmental when Gillian asks what the harm is in having the Irished-up coffee being served in the Onyx. "Your wife always so eager to break the law?" Hewson asks Roy. Hard to tell if he's disapproving or horny. Could be both, I suppose. Roy jokes that Gillian's incorrigible, and she flusters him by yes-anding and one-upping by pointing out Roy's the one who tried to marry her when she was underage. Hewson's all, "Can't blame him!" so I guess the verdict is in on disapproving v. horny, and to celebrate, he decides to give in to temptation the boozed-up coffee way. Gillian excuses herself to go powder her nose, and from the look on her face when Mrs. Hewson gets up to join her, she clearly was hoping to go alone for some fortification stronger than rum in coffee.
On their way, they pass Narcisse and Chalky, Narcisse asking Chalky if he lied about Daughter Maitland. "The white folks seem to like her," allows Chalky. "Yes, that would be very important," says Narcisse, and Chalky is all, "I'll just leave so you can finish delivering the rest of your line under your breath." He goes, and Narcisse adds, "…to you."
Over at Temple, Willie's booze has lubricated the party to a hilarious degree, if the manic jitterbugging girl is any indication. Willie's bespectacled friend is playing up what a badass he was in picking up the alcohol to a woman who's really just there to get her drink refilled. Willie himself is the center of attention of a group of students impressed with his haul, but he's too busy starting at Henry and Not Colleen Wilson. Not Colleen doesn't like it when Henry/Bucket gets too grabby, and she stomps off. Willie intervenes, much to Henry's annoyance. Not Colleen Wilson (her name is Doris) doesn't mind, and asks Henry to escort her out. "Sure, Doris, go slumming!" yells Henry after them, while the jitterbugging blonde twirls in the foreground, like RELAX. I don't think your crazy jitterbugging is going to impress anyone enough to turn you into a recurring speaking role.
Outside the party, Doris tells Willie that she wants to show him something in the library, and inexperienced doof that he is (I can relate to that) he seems to think she actually wants to show something. I mean, I suppose she does, but he clearly wasn't expecting it would mean his tongue down her throat.
Back in Tampa, in Nucky's hotel room, McCoy paces and explains to Nucky that he owes Tucker money — it was Tucker's scotch on board when McCoy's ships were seized. Nucky asks why McCoy didn't just tell Nucky he needed money. Because he's not some goddamned charity case, that's why! He wanted to earn it! Nucky's all, "'Earn' it?" Point: Nucky. McCoy says Tucker was going to forgive the debt if Nucky came on board, and Nucky doesn't think that's a good enough reason to partner with "some two-bit fucking hillbilly," even if Tucker's got the locals in his pocket. "The deal is shit, and you know it," says Nucky.
McCoy is all "woe is me" and "I thought you were my friend!" and Nucky says McCoy should have come to him like one, instead of all this bullshit involving train tickets and "stupid coconut drinks." McCoy apologizes, saying he was desperate and made a mistake. "Well, look at you now," says Nucky coldly, refusing to turn from the window. McCoy leaves, and Nucky finds something worth getting upset about: his bottle of liquor is almost empty.
Back on the boardwalk, Roy and Gillian are having ice cream in a restaurant, reveling in their married-couple improv earlier in the evening. Gillian's glowing, and she reaches across the table and takes Roy's hand, and offers him a nickel for his thoughts: "I pay better than most people." Well, it's not the price but what you get for it, right? Roy's thinking they make a pretty swell team.
Gillian gets to enjoy this moment for all of about five seconds before a passing young man recognizes her, and reminds her that they met with his friend Roger about a year ago, outside on the boardwalk. A very confused Roy wants to know what this is about, and Gillian plays dumb, arguing that the man is mistaken, even though he's quite certain it was her. Before he comes round to actually saying anything about Roger being missing or anything, Gillian tells Roy the guy is making her uncomfortable, so Roy orders the kid to "take it on the arches," and oh lord how I LOVE the old-timey slang.
The guy does indeed take it on the arches, and I don't think it's to anyone's surprise that Gillian immediately excuses herself to go to the ladies' room, a perplexed Roy watching her go. Inside, she ties off and shoots up behind a kneecap, bliss immediately washing over her, and when she rejoins Roy she's much more relaxed. So relaxed she doesn't appear to be quite all there. He asks if she's OK, and she says she is… and then she realizes she's been gone so long her ice cream melted. Well, when you've been in the bathroom long enough, there's really no good explanation that anyone wants to know.
Back at the library, Doris and Willie are still making out, at least until the lights come on and Henry leads a group of students into the library crooning, "By the light of the silvery moon…" Willie angrily shoves Henry to the floor, threatening to break his nose, but Henry gets up and points out Willie's hard-on: "I see your anger's not the only thing that's risen." Everyone cracks up, there is some unnecessary ADR of a girl shouting, "It's Thompson's Willie!" and Willie stalks off out of the library and out of the building.
It's still raining in Tampa, and Nucky has made his way back to Sally's, which is empty save for one unconscious drunk at a table. He takes a seat at the bar and he and Sally banter about the drunk -- "Is he alive?" -- and the weather, and then Sally asks if Nucky's alive. Oh, good, the bartender who cuts through the bullshit to ask the piercing questions that force deep reflection upon one's very existence. But Nucky says he was alive once, and then Prohibition happened, and until then he was a simple, run-of-the-mill crook: A corrupt city official. Wow, it's just all coming out, huh? While Sally pours a drink, Nucky says he was happy: plenty of money, plenty of friends, plenty of everything. "Then, suddenly, plenty wasn't enough."
Sally's not buying it, though. "Anybody who says money doesn't buy happiness doesn't know where to shop," she says. So Nucky starts talking about his son Teddy, and how it's his birthday tomorrow, and if he's trying to impress her with his paternal prowess, actually remembering how old his son is might be a start. And excusing his uncertainty with "He's no longer with me" of course only makes Sally think Teddy's dead, which Nucky corrects to "He's in Brooklyn." Oh, well, he's in Brooklyn, I can totally see how you wouldn't know how old he is. She gets in a "what's the difference"-esque gag, and then Nucky says he should send Teddy something, and then drama-queens that maybe the best gift is to let Teddy forget him. THANK GOD Sally calls him on that bullshit, and notes how convenient it is "that the best choice requires the least amount of effort on your part."
Nucky's mildly (but only mildly) outraged at her gumption, and introductions are exchanged. She already knows who he is, since he's all Tucker has talked about for weeks. She's not of the opinion that Tucker is the big man Tucker thinks he is, and offers to "dish" in exchange for a cigarette. You know, so we can do the whole "stare lustily while the man lights your cigarette" thing. August Tucker: From Georgia, son of moonshiners, made his way to Tampa after the war. Nucky asks when Tucker found Sally, and she stares through him for a moment before saying, "We're friends." Also they do business once in a while. Nucky wants to know if Tucker is dangerous, and Sally points to this stuffed alligator that's behind glass above the bar like HAS THAT BEEN THERE THE WHOLE TIME AND I MISSED IT and anyway Sally says Tucker will kill you if he gets the chance, but he's not very smart. How does a not-smart, semi-dangerous man so many rackets down here, Nucky wants to know, and Sally says if you've got enough money and the right connections, you can do whatever you want. They stare at each other for a good long while, until the unconscious drunk stirs enough to knock over a drink and sound like he's preparing to throw up. So the flirting is over, at least for now.
Back at the Onyx club, Purnsley's closing up -- from his attire, he looks like he was tending bar. He heads out into the front of house, when suddenly there's someone behind him. He turns and he's already got his switchblade ready to carve himself up some Dr. Valentin Narcisse, who calmly wonders what good "another dead Negro" would do either of them. Purnsley says it would make him feel "a mite better." He thinks Narcisse is here to settle the Dickie Pastor score, but relaxes when Narcisse tells him that has been settled: "I'm here on new business," he says, pulling off an upturned chair from the nearby table. Narcisse isn't surprised Chalky isn't there right now, since he's got Purnsley to do his "slave labor." Then Narcisse flat-out lies and says Chalky offered to give Purnsley up. Purnsley growls that Chalky White ain't never been his friend. Purnsley's all "no shit" and pulls down another chair for Purnsley to sit on. Still wary -- but at least finally putting the switchblade away -- Purnsley sits down. "Do you know what this is?" Narcisse says, sliding a white packet across the table. Is it an offered salary written down? No, Purnsley knows it's heroin. "It is freedom. Power. Control over men who are lesser than you," says Narcisse. You know, like Chalky! Purnsley wants to know where Narcisse is going with this, and Narcisse smoothly says as far as Purnsley would like Narcisse to take him: "But we shall go there together."
Looks like McCoy has spent all goddamn night drinking and cleaving coconuts in two -- or whatever those are. Some of them look green? Look, I don't know. I live in Canada. And then suddenly Tucker is hammering on the door, yelling, "McCoy! Let's settle this!" McCoy wipes his face and goes to the door. "I didn't hear you," says McCoy, ludicrously. Tucker's amazed that McCoy's in here chopping coconuts at 4 AM, and McCoy's all "doctor's orders" and then starts to make excuses about the Nucky thing. Tucker's in no mood, and grabs McCoy by the throat, pushing him back into the room and closing the door behind him.
Out at the ol' Harrow place, Richard sits on the front porch, his hand bandaged, which he tells Hubert -- leaning against a shiny pickup truck from his gravel company -- he injured cleaning out the barn. Talk soon turns a little more personal, with Hubert obliquely declaring his marital intentions, what with Emma having a baby to raise and no one to do it and in a place not fit to do it in. "She thinks the world of you, but you're only visiting," says Hubert. Sure. Plus, even in the '20s, I bet it was illegal for siblings to marry.
Emma comes up, after presumably making sure the barn would pass a cursory corpse inspection, and cheerfully sloughs off another offer of barn-clearing help from Hubert. Then she asks Richard what time the train is. Ahhhh. "Two twenty-seven," he tells her, and Hubert assures her he'll get Richard there in time. He's not about to let Richard carry his own suitcase, either. "You Harrows think there's no one else on earth." I think he means it in a nice way. Richard looks at the barn, and looks at this sister, and then delivers a little speech about being unable to sleep in France, dreaming about the day he'd come home from the war, in his dress uniform, medals earned (but not worn) -- cornflowers in the yard, Mother, Father, Samson … and Emma. Brother and sister look at each other, and she tells him to send her an address if he wants her to know where she is. He turns to go, and she calls him back. They hug, which is nice, and then she whispers that he needs to call himself to account, and she goes inside, giving us the Godfather door-closing on Richard.
In Tampa, the bellhops knock on Nucky's door for his bags, and also to deliver a parcel. It's a wooden box from "Sally's Bait and Tackle," and it's got a stuffed lizard in it. The note says "For Teddy." Nucky eventually smiles…
…and heads down to the lobby, past a binder boy at work, and he uses the lobby phone to call McCoy. A sullen Bill comes on the line, and Nucky gives him an "It's me," (but then has to say who it is), and then he tells a surprised McCoy that he's reconsidered the deal, and he's in. "Tell your hillbilly friend Tucker I'm in, but he answers to me, understand?" McCoy seems rather shell-shocked, but Nucky doesn't appear to notice that he's not his usual jovial self, and says he'll send someone down in a few days with the money.
They hang up, and McCoy heavily walks over to sit at his little hotel table, and the reason for his shock and demeanor is slumped against the wall: Tucker, blood splattered on the wall behind him, cleaver lodged in his skull. Jesus, McCoy's gonna have to shell out a huge tip for hotel housecleaning.
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. There's a trick with a machete he's learning to do. Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel@gmail.com.