"In writing fiction, the more fantastic the tale, the plainer the prose should be. Don't ask your readers to admire your words when you want them to believe your story." - Ben Bova [ more quotes ]

"MOBSTERS"

Screenplay by

Michael Mahern and Nicholas Kazan

Based on a story by

Michael Mahern

SHOOTING DRAFT



INT: BELOW DECK ON A OCEAN GOING SHIP - NIGHT

Fifty immigrants are packed onto benches along the walls of
the small dark room. Some eat or talk, but most stare vacantly
into space. Others sleep curled up among their baggage on
the floor. A lamp swinging from the ceiling provides the
only light.

SALVATORE LUCIANO

Eleven years old, and bored as hell after thirty days in
this pit, leans against his sleeping mother, ROSALIE, who
clutches her seven year old son, BARTOLO, in her arms.

ANOTHER FAMILY

Huddles together, eating bread and sausage. The Father looks
up and sees Salvatore staring. He cuts a piece of sausage
and tosses it to the boy.

SAUSAGE MAN
(IN ITALIAN)
Your last taste of Sicily.

A MIDDLE-AGED MAN OF SEVERE BEARING

looms in the doorway. He shouts.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
NO!

Rosalie Luciano stirs out of her stupor, as Antonio grabs
the piece of sausage from his son's hand.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
We are not beggars.

With a half-bow, Antonio returns the small chunk of meat.
The Sausage Man shrugs and takes it. Salvatore glares at his
father. Craving revenge, but helpless to get it. Rosalie
squeezes her son's hand to calm him.

A MAN STICKS HIS HEAD THROUGH THE DOOR AND SHOUTS

EXCITED MAN
(IN ITALIAN)
NEW YORK! You can see the lights
from the deck!

Antonio's face lights up, as the passengers roar their
approval and rush for the door.

CLOSE - ON THE KEROSINE LAMP

as it lists from side to side with the movement of the boat.
WE PAN DOWN to the nearly empty compartment. Watching the
door, Salvatore paws some baggage, finds the sausage, and
cuts himself a healthy piece. He gobbles it down greedily,
wiping his hands on his shirt as he runs for the door.

CUT TO:

INT: CLASSROOM AT P.S. #34 - DAY

A raucous band of second-graders settle in as the bell rings.
Salvatore appears at the door, bewildered. He towers over
kids five years his junior. The male teacher calls him over.

TEACHER
Come on. Come on.

As the classroom buzzes, Sal moves uncertainly toward the
front. Something must be wrong. They can't be putting him in
with these babies. The Teacher takes his papers.

TEACHER
Sit in the back.

Salvatore looks around, not understanding.

SALVATORE
(IN ITALIAN)
There is some mistake.

TEACHER
(mocking)
Back. You know "back"?

Sal's face reddens as the Teacher slaps him too heartily on
the back. A little girl giggles. The Teacher thumps Sal's
chest, then his back again.

TEACHER
Front. Back.

The students squeal their approval of the comic performance.
Sal doesn't know what the hell is going on here, except that
he wants to slug this jerk. The Teacher shoves Sal down the
aisle.

TEACHER
Sit in the back.

Sal spins around and smacks the Teacher full across the face,
then bolts for the door.

CUT TO:

EXT: MULBERRY STREET - DAY

Looking over his shoulder as he runs down the street, Sal
slows as he realizes he's not been pursued. The vendors on
the sidewalk bargain vigorously in Yiddish, Italian, and
English. Sal stops as an ITALIAN LABORER, standing in front
of a roulette wheel, shouts in triumph. The slick-haired
OPERATOR bows to the winner, handing him a dime. With a
flourish, the Laborer pulls a crumpled dollar from his pocket
and unfolds it. The crowd gathered around buzzes. Sal notices
the Operator suppress a smile as the man places his dollar
on the black.

ITALIAN LABORER
Nero.

Before the Operator can spin the wheel, Sal waves a nickel.

SALVATORE
Rosso!

As Sal slaps his nickel onto the red marker, the Operator
shoots him a dirty look and spins the wheel. As it comes to
rest on red, the Operator scoops up the crest-fallen Laborer's
dollar, and grudgingly flips a dime to Salvatore.

OPERATOR
(IN ITALIAN)
A lucky boy. You're playing again?

SALVATORE
(IN ITALIAN)
Only when there's another fool with
a dollar to bet against.

CUT TO:

INT: BEDROOM OF LUCIANO FAMILY APARTMENT - EVENING

Sal lays across a pallet on the floor of the dark, tiny room.
Bartolo lays next to him, asleep. In the next room, Rosalie
Luciano cooks in a primitive kitchen. Sal pulls a set of
post cards from his pocket, and flips through the photos of
beauties posed provocatively in their scanties. At the sound
of his father's voice raised in anger, he hides the cards.

JUST INSIDE THE FRONT DOOR STANDS A MAN IN UNIFORM

As Antonio drags Sal out from the bedroom.

SALVATORE
(IN ITALIAN)
The Teacher hit me first!

Antonio hits Sal hard, upside the head.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
You have a smart teacher.

Rosalie runs over from the kitchen, waving a ladle.

ROSALIE LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
He's only a baby!

SALVATORE
(IN ITALIAN)
Mama, I'm not a baby!

Antonio smacks Sal again, as his mother tries to pull him
away.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Don't talk back to your mother.

At the door, the Truant Officer rolls his eyes. Antonio shoves
Salvatore toward him.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Take him. I can do nothing.

CUT TO:

INT: TRUANT SCHOOL CLASSROOM - DAY

Bars on the windows. The uniformed students sit rigidly
upright. They follow along in their books while the Teacher
reads aloud as he walks between the rows of desks.

SALVATORE STARES BLANKLY AT A BOOK HE CAN'T READ

As the Teacher passes, he raps Sal across the knuckles with
a ruler, then turns Sal's book to the correct page.

CUT TO:

INT: A MASSIVE DORMITORY - DAY

Deserted, except for Sal and another boy his age, who are on
their hands and knees scrubbing the floor.

FRANKIE COSTELLO
(IN ITALIAN)
Where were you before?

SALVATORE
Scuola Trenta-Quarto.

FRANKIE COSTELLO
(IN ENGLISH)
School Thirty-Four? Hey, me too.
(IN ITALIAN)
I live on Thirteenth Street.

He extends a soapy hand to Sal and they shake.

SALVATORE
(IN ENGLISH)
Hey, me too.

Frank laughs at Sal's attempt at English

FRANKIE COSTELLO
(IN ITALIAN)
I'm Frankie Costello.

SALVATORE
Salvatore Luciano.

FRANKIE COSTELLO
(IN ITALIAN)
Sal-va-tore. Back home that's a
beautiful name. But here Sallie's a
girl's name. Some these bums might
get the wrong idea. Capice?

Salvatore nods.

SALVATORE
(IN ITALIAN)
I want an American name.

Frank regards Sal critically for a moment.

FRANK
Charlie.

SALVATORE
Cha-lee?

FRANK
Char-lie.

CHARLIE
Char-lie.

FRANK
Fuck you, Charlie.

Frank gestures with his middle finger. Charlie returns it.

CHARLIE
Fucka you, Frankie!

Frank dips into his bucket, and flings water at Charlie.
Charlie snaps his wet rag at Frank, catching him on the arm.

FRANK
Son of a bitch!

CHARLIE
Somma bitch!

Angry now, Frank grabs his crotch and hisses.

FRANK
Suck my dick, motherfucker.

Charlie jumps up and dramatically grabs his crotch.

CHARLIE
Muddafucka somma bitch. Sucka my
fucka you.

Beaming with pride, Charlie looks up into the stone face of
their Teacher, who looms behind Frank. Charlie drops to his
knees and resumes scrubbing the floor.

INT: HALLWAY - DAY

The Teacher hauls the boys down the hallway by their ears.

CUT TO:

EXT: LOWER EAST SIDE RESIDENTIAL STREET - DAY SUPER: 1916

Frank Costello, now sixteen, sits on a stoop across from
P.S. 34, as the younger kids pass on their way to school.
Occasionally one will break from the stream of traffic and
place a penny in Frank's outstretched palm. A BOY IN A
YARMULKE hands Frank a penny and whispers to him.

FRANK STARES ACROSS THE STREET

at a group of Irish boys gathered around MIKE SHANE, red-
haired and a head taller than the others. Frank nods and
gives the Boy a reassuring pat on the back. As the school
bell rings, the Boy joins the others rushing into the
building, leaving Frank and the Irish gang alone on opposite
sides of the street.

TWO JEWISH BOYS - YOUNGER THAN FRANK

and small in stature, come casually along the sidewalk,
unconcerned with getting to class on time. MEYER LANSKY has
the bookish demeanor of a Yeshiva boy. BUGSY SIEGEL, an almost
comically cocky strut. Costello calls to them as they pass.

FRANK
Hey, fellas. Ya know them Micks over
there don't like no Heebs.

Lansky glances over his shoulder at Shane and his gang. Turns
back to Costello. Defiant.

LANSKY
Yeah. So who the fuck does?

SIEGEL
Come on. Tell us, Shitface.

Costello jumps up and seizes Siegel by the shirt.

FRANK
Yeah. Well we don't sell protection
ta assholes anyhow.

Siegel moves right into Costello's face, swinging fiercely.
Lansky shouts encouragement, as the startled Costello falls
back onto the stoop.

LANSKY
Kick him in the balls!

A pair of arms grab Siegel and pull him off Costello.

CHARLIE LUCIANO SHAKES HIS HEAD

As he holds the kicking and punching Siegel in mid-air like
a helpless snapping turtle.

LUCIANO
Frankie. Didn't I tell ya about makin'
nice ta the customers?

Frank climbs up. Embarrassed.

LUCIANO
You fellas got names?

LANSKY
(still defiant)
Lansky. Meyer Lansky. And that's
Bugsy Siegel ya got there.

Siegel continues to struggle in Luciano's grip.

SIEGEL
They call me Bugsy 'cause I'm fuckin'
crazy, man.

Charlie lowers Siegel to the sidewalk.

FRANK
No shit.

Luciano glares at Costello.

LUCIANO
Tell ya what. In consideration of
this little misunderstanding, we're
gonna give you fellas protection for
free.

Lansky looks over to the Irish gang, then back to Charlie.

LANSKY
Keep your fuckin' Dago protection.

As Lansky and Siegel turn and head toward the school, Charlie
grabs the seething Costello, then LAUGHS.

CUT TO:

INT: DARK STAIRWAY - DAY

Charlie and Frank lug a heavy wooden crate up the stairs to
the Luciano family's fifth floor tenement.

INT: LUCIANO KITCHEN - DAY

Antonio pries the top off the wooden crate and extracts a
huge prosciutto ham wrapped in burlap. Mrs. Luciano couldn't
be more in awe if the Virgin Mary herself had just appeared.

ROSALIE LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Prosciutto... from Lercara Friddi.

Charlie eyes the ham, the taste already in his mouth. He
leans to Frankie.

CHARLIE
Stayin' for dinner, Paisan?

ROSALIE LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
No! Prosciutto must hang to dry before
you eat it. He may come on Sunday.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO KITCHEN - DAY

Antonio Luciano sits silently at the table, along with Frankie
and Bartolo, all anxiously watching Rosalie prepare Sunday
dinner. The ham still hangs over the sink. Sweating from the
heat, Antonio flaps the coat of his ill-fitting peasant's
suit. Irritated, Rosalie slaps a bottle of wine on the table.

ROSALIE
(IN ITALIAN)
Dinner will be ready when the dinner
is ready.

Charlie enters from the bedroom wearing a blue seersucker
suit. Antonio pours Frankie a niggardly portion of the wine.

CHARLIE
Careful, Pop. Frankie might get his
throat wet.

ANTONIO
(IN ITALIAN)
I work from seven until seven. Every
day. But on Sunday I can only afford
one bottle of wine. How can my son,
who does not work at all, afford a
new suit?

Charlie grabs the wine bottle, filling Frankie's glass, then
his father's. Antonio looks to Frankie, then back to Charlie.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
I know of the things you do.

There's a knock on the door. Antonio looks up with
trepidation.

AT THE DOOR

A well-dressed man forces his way inside past Antonio.

MOLIARI
(IN ITALIAN)
When you wanted money to buy a bed,
you were under my feet.

Moliari marches into the apartment, looking for collateral.
The pickings are mighty thin. Antonio trails helplessly
behind.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Saturday I will pay double.

Moliari turns to face Antonio. His voice falling to a whisper.

MOLIARI
(IN ITALIAN)
So I should ask Don Maranzano?

An edge of panic creeps into Antonio's voice.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
No. No. No. Don Maranzano? No.

Moliari's eyes light upon the prosciutto hanging over the
sink. Rosalie moves to block his path, but Moliari pushes
her aside, and lifts the ham off the hook.

ROSALIE LUCIANO
Please, no... An-to-nio.

Rosalie grabs the ham from Moliari, as Charlie picks up a
carving knife and jumps up from the table. Utterly impotent,
Antonio calls to his wife.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
ROSALIE. NO!

Moliari wrestles the ham back from Rosalie, and back-hands
her across the face. Antonio grabs Charlie, and twists the
knife from his hand. Moliari retreats to the door with the
ham.

MOLIARI
(IN ITALIAN)
And you must still pay double!

As Moliari exits, Charlie pulls away from his father, raises
an arm threateningly, then drops it in disgust.

CUT TO:

INT: JEWISH BAKERY - DAY

Meyer Lansky fights his way to the front of a crowd of kids
waving claim tickets for the cholents (a kind of meat pie)
that they had dropped off earlier to be baked for their
families' Sabbath dinners. Spotting Meyer, the clerk sets a
crockery dish on the counter. Wrapping rags around his hands,
Meyer picks it up, steam venting through cuts in the crust.

CUT TO:

EXT: MULBERRY STREET - DAY

Charlie and Frank lean against a wall, idly swapping a smoke.
Frank elbows Charlie, and nods to the far side of the street.

ACROSS THE STREET

Moliari emerges from an apartment building with DON MARANZANO,
an older man, resplendent in a white suit, hat, and cape. He
waves a pair of white gloves as he gestures to Moliari.

CHARLIE
Who's Mr. Tutti-Frutti?

Frank shoots Charlie a withering look.

FRANK
That's Don Maranzano. He drops one a
them fuckin' gloves at your feet,
you're dead.

CHARLIE
Ya comin' in?

Frank lays a restraining hand on Charlie.

FRANK
Moliari knows ya got a beef. We gotta
figure somethin'.

UP THE STREET

Meyer Lansky burrows through the sidewalk crowds, being
careful not to bump into anyone with the hot cholent.

FROM THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION

Mike Shane and two of his Irish pals strut down the street
like they own it. As they near Charlie and Frank walking in
the opposite direction, Shane whispers to his cohorts. Staring
at Shane as they pass, Charlie hawks and spits on the
sidewalk.

KEEPING HIS EYE ON CHARLIE, SHANE RUNS HEAD ON INTO LANSKY

Lansky barely retains his grip on the cholent.

LANSKY
Look where ya goin', Turdbrain!

Amazed that this pipsqueak would challenge him, Shane looks
with amused skepticism to his pals. Then suddenly, he grabs
Meyer by the neck and squeezes.

MIKE SHANE
I go where I want.

Meyer struggles to breathe, the cholent shaking in his hands.

MIKE SHANE
Bringin' me dinner, Jew Boy?

Meyer shakes his head "yes".

UP THE STREET

Frank and Charlie turn around to check out the commotion.

SHANE LOOSENS HIS GRIP ON MEYER

who gasps for breath.

SHANE
So, give it to me.

As Shane reaches for the pot, LANSKY LIFTS IT OVER HIS HEAD
AND SMASHES IT ACROSS SHANE'S FACE. The pot cracks in two
and falls to the sidewalk. Shane stumbles backwards, screaming
as the hot cholent burns into his skin.

UP THE STREET

Lansky darts through the crowd, nearly knocking over Charlie
and Frank as he flies past. As Shane's buddies come by in
pursuit, Charlie and Frank start swinging, and the crowd
scatters as the brawl ensues.

CUT TO:

EXT: EAST RIVER DOCKS - DUSK

Frankie, clad only in a pair of shorts, races down a pier
and leaps out over the water, howling as he sails through
the air then crashes into the river amidst a pack his jeering
pals.

CHARLIE LUCIANO CLIMBS ONTO THE PIER

and spies Meyer Lansky standing on the next pier. Bugsy Siegel
and a few other Jewish kids frolic off the pier. Lansky waves.

CLOSE - ON THE FACE OF MIKE SHANE

as he watches Lansky dive into the water from behind the
second pier. His once perfect nose now listing to the left.
His skin scarred and discolored. He turns and nods to his
gang.

FACING TOWARD THE DOCKSIDE WAREHOUSES - CHARLIE LIMBERS UP

As he turns to make his run down the pier, he spots Shane
and his gang stripping behind the next pier. He shouts and
waves to the Jewish kids. They look over, puzzled.

SHANE AND HIS GANG

race down the next pier, diving in after Lansky. Charlie
dives into the water. The other Italians follow.

OFF THE OTHER PIER

Siegel struggles to escape from three Irish kids who restrain
him, as Shane and two others surround Meyer. As they move in
on him, Lansky dives underwater.

AS THE ITALIANS SWIM INTO THE WAR ZONE

Charlie scans the scene looking for Lansky.

CHARLIE SWIMS

under the wildly kicking legs of the surface combatants.

CLOSE ON MIKE SHANE'S ENRAGED FACE - UNDERWATER

As he uses a choke hold around Lansky's neck. Meyer's legs
kick listlessly as life drains out of his body. Suddenly
Shane's head JERKS BACK and his mouth widens in a silent
scream.

CHARLIE PULLS A KNIFE FROM SHANE'S BACK

with a violent twist, drops it into the void, and grabs
Lansky.

CHARLIE GASPS FOR BREATH

and Lansky throws up water as they surface in the middle of
melee. Shane's body surfaces beside them. The fighting quickly
dies out, and everyone falls silent. Then, as if a starter's
gun had sounded, everyone swims like hell for the pier.

AS THE OTHERS DISAPPEAR INTO THE NIGHT

Siegel, Costello, and Luciano lift the comatose Lansky up
onto the pier. Lansky regains consciousness, kicking his
legs and flailing his arms. The guys struggle to hold on to
Meyer, to little avail. Exasperated, they toss him back into
the water.

LANSKY SURFACES IN THE RIVER

Cursing and sputtering as he comes to. As Meyer climbs up
onto the pier, Bugsy breaks out laughing. Charlie and Frank
join in. Mad as a wet cat, Meyer goes nose to nose with
Charlie.

LANSKY
I THOUGHT I TOLD YA TA KEEP YOUR
FUCKIN' DAGO PROTECTION!

Bugsy, Charlie, and Frank exchange a look, then, as one,
push Lansky backwards off the pier.

CUT TO:

INT: WAREHOUSE BASEMENT - DAY

Charlie, Frank, and Bugsy are draped over sacks of flour, in
a tiny brick-walled hideout. Their bodies glisten with sweat
as they stew in their boredom. Bugsy stirs from his stupor.

SIEGEL
How much longer we gotta be shut up
in this fuckin' sweatbox?

FRANK
Long as Charlie says.

CHARLIE
When the stiff's an Irish, the cops
take it kinda personal.

SIEGEL
Can't we get a couple whores over?

Contemptuous, Frank holds up his little finger and wiggles
it.

FRANK
You ain't even a man yet.

SIEGEL
That ain't what your mama said.

Frank leaps up.

FRANK
You slimy fuckin' kike!

Bugsy regards Frank cooly, fondling his own crotch.

SIEGEL
Until I met her, I thought Catholics
didn't eat meat on Friday.

Frank knocks Bugsy off his perch, and they roll to the floor,
punching and kicking. Charlie doesn't stir from his spot.

CHARLIE
(emphatic)
ENOUGH!

Frank and Bugsy back off, continuing to stare each other
down.

CHARLIE
Just like the fuckin' slammer. Lock
guys up in a room together an'
everybody goes fruity.

Frank slumps back across his flour sack, still shooting Bugsy
the evil eye. There are three quick KNOCKS at the window.

MEYER LANSKY

hands a pot through the window to Bugsy and climbs down into
the room. Bugsy doles the contents out into bowls.

FRANK
Where'd ya get this funny ravioli?

SIEGEL
Ya ignorant Guinea, it's kreplach.

Charlie bites into a piece. Nods approvingly to Meyer.

CHARLIE
When we get outta here, I'm gonna
steal somethin' nice for your mom.

MEYER
Why wait? Ain't ya still got it hard
for that Moliari fella?

CHARLIE
Sure. But John Law's got it hard for
us.

MEYER
There's a lotta other folks they
ain't looking for.

Puzzled by the drift of the conversation, Bugsy objects.

SIEGEL
What the hell you talkin' about?

Ignoring Bugsy, Meyer smiles sweetly at Charlie.

MEYER
Guess I owe ya one, Charlie.

SIEGEL
Would somebody here please speak
fuckin' English?

Frankie leans over to bait Bugsy.

FRANK
Why I gotta be hooked up with the
only stupid Jew in New York.

Bugsy takes a swing at Frankie.

CUT TO:

EXT: MULBERRY STREET - DAY

Moliari exits his apartment building and heads down the
crowded street. Four Orthodox Jewish boys in black suits and
hats, cross the street and enter the vestibule.

CHARLIE, MEYER, FRANK, AND BUGSY

Incongruous, yet weirdly convincing in their sober attire,
survey the building directory. Most of the names are Italian,
but a few are Jewish.

MEYER
Fourth floor.

INT: FOURTH FLOOR LANDING - DAY

Meyer kneels in front of Moliari's apartment door, picking
the lock. It pops open.

INT: MOLIARI APARTMENT - DAY

Overawed by the middle class trappings, the boys wander
silently, Bugsy feeling the fabric of the sofa, Frank opening
the ice box, Meyer watching the caged parakeet. In contrast,
Charlie looks around appraisingly, like a smart thief.

CHARLIE
Let's get to work.

IN THE LIVING ROOM

Bugsy and Frank pull boxes out of a closet while Meyer combs
through the drawers of a Victorian sideboard. Finding a small
jewelry box, Meyer empties the contents into his pockets.

IN THE BEDROOM

Charlie searches fruitlessly through a bureau.

CUT TO:

INT: APARTMENT VESTIBULE - DAY

As Don Maranzano enters and heads up the stairs.

INT: MOLIARI BEDROOM - DAY

Charlie feels the underside of the dresser drawers, finding
nothing. He calls to Meyer in the living room.

CHARLIE
He lends money. Gotta be a bank.

Charlie kneels beside the bed, running his arm under mattress.

DON MARANZANO REACHES THE THIRD FLOOR LANDING

Pausing to clean a dirty finger nail before resuming his
climb.

IN THE BEDROOM

Charlie stands back, trying to figure out what he's missed.
He returns to the dresser and pulls a drawer all the way out
of the cabinet. Taped to the back of the drawer is an envelope
stuffed with twenty dollar bills. Stuffing the envelope into
his jacket, Charlie unzips his fly, and pisses onto the bed.

PULLING UP HIS ZIPPER - CHARLIE CHARGES INTO THE LIVING ROOM

CHARLIE
Let's get outta here.

Meyer follows Charlie into the kitchen, where Charlie scoops
up the prosciutto that hangs by the sink. Meyer wrestles the
ham from him, and hangs it back up.

MEYER
This is a Jew job. Remember?

JUST OUTSIDE THE APARTMENT

As Don Maranzano pauses at the fourth floor landing. Winded
by the climb, he daubs his forehead with a silk handkerchief.

INSIDE THE APARTMENT - THE BOYS GATHER BY THE DOOR

Looking around to make sure they have everything. As Charlie
reaches for the doorknob, he's startled by a knock at the
door.

DON MARANZANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Alfredo. It's Don Maranzano.

The telephone on the wall next to the door RINGS. Panicked,
Frankie snatches up the receiver in mid-ring. Realizing his
mistake, he re-hangs the receiver.

DON MARANZANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Please. I must use the toilet.

The boys look to each other. Not sure what to do now.

OUTSIDE THE DOOR - MARANZANO KNOCKS AGAIN

As he shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. The door opens
a crack. Meyer peers out from under brim of his black hat.
Pious to a fault. Behind him, Maranzano glimpses the others
gathered around the dining table, heads bowed in prayer.

MEYER
(IN YIDDISH)
Can I help you, sir?

Maranzano's puzzled. Unsure of himself.

DON MARANZANO
(IN ENGLISH)
Where is Mr. Moliari?

MEYER
(IN ENGLISH)
Moliari? Up the stairs.

ON THE TABLE

as Bugsy mumbles gibberish, prayin' it sounds like Hebrew.

AT THE DOOR

DON MARANZANO
Excuse me. I am sorry.

Meyer peers out the door as Maranzano heads up the stairs.
Halfway up he stops. No. He was on the right floor. As
Maranzano turns back around, the Boys pile out of the
apartment and race down the stairs. Their hat brims pulled
down. Maranzano shakes his fist and shouts after them.

DON MARANZANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Dirty thieving Jews!

CUT TO:

INT: WAREHOUSE BASEMENT - DAY

Meyer, Bugsy, and Frankie watch anxiously as Charlie counts
out the last bill from the envelope.

CHARLIE
Four-twenty-eight.

SIEGEL
What's that divided four ways?

LANSKY
A hundred-seven bucks too much. Any
kid who drops an extra dime is gonna
be talkin' to Moliari.

FRANK
Ya mean we're so rich we're broke?

CHARLIE
Think about it. Who runs things? The
punks who go ta jail? Fuck no. It's
the guys with the dough.

Charlie hands the envelope to Frankie.

CHARLIE
And dough is gonna put us into
business with John Law.

CUT TO:

INT: DETECTIVE MULLAVEY'S OFFICE - DAY

The imposing Irishman pulls up a chair opposite a nervous
Frankie. His manner concerned, almost fatherly.

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
They told me you wanted to talk about
this Shane business.

FRANK
You havin' any luck findin' out who
did him?

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
Shane was a friend of yours?

FRANK
He was around...

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
Lad, I'm a busy man. July's always a
big month for murder. Fella named
Barone turned up just this mornin',
throat cut ear to ear.
(lowering his voice)
Black Hand.

FRANK
When you're investigatin', how long
ya keep at it?

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
It consoles the bereaved family ta
see the perpetrator take his load of
juice. We try to oblige.

FRANK
But if ya can't catch the guys...

Raising an eyebrow, Mullavey gives him a hint of a smile and
pulls open a file drawer.

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
Inactive. Dead cases, so to speak.

Frankie pulls five twenty-dollar bills from his jacket and
fans them across his knee. Mullavey nods approvingly.

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
Might I?

Frankie nods as he picks the bills up off his knee and holds
them out to Mullavey, feeling cocky that he's bribing a cop.
Mullavey LEAPS UP, hauls Frankie out of his chair, and slams
him against the wall.

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
What caused you to mistake me for a
twenty-five cent prostitute?

Mullavey grabs Frankie's collar and twists it tight.

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
Was it you cut Shane? Or are you
just the bagman.

Mullavey snatches the bills from Frankie's trembling hand
then reaches into his jacket and grabs a second wad of bills.

DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
I need a perpetrator. Who? WHO??

Not sure what the rules are, Frankie sweats an answer.

FRANK
Barone. It was Barone.

Mullavey relaxes his grip. A smile blossoms on his ruddy
mug.

MULLAVEY
Knew it all the time.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO FAMILY APARTMENT - NIGHT

Charlie comes quietly through the front door. Moving up behind
his mother in the kitchen, he slips his arms around her waist
and kisses her on the back of the neck.

CHARLIE
Missed ya, Mama.

Howling with delight, she spins around into her son's arms.

ROSALIE LUCIANO
Salvatore!

Antonio Luciano looks up from the kitchen table. Not pleased.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
The police came looking for you.

Rosalie hands Charlie two plates of lasagna. He sits opposite
his pop, handing him the second plate.

CHARLIE
(IN ENGLISH)
That's all straight now.

As Rosalie takes a seat, Antonio pushes his chair away from
the table and disappears into the bedroom. He emerges holding
a gold belt buckle in his palm.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
I found this under your bed. It was
stolen from the jewelry store on
12th Street last week.

CHARLIE
(IN ENGLISH)
Snoopin' ain't nice, Pop.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Is it so important to have a gold
buckle and no honor?

Charlie looks up from his lasagna. Matter of fact.

LUCIANO
(IN ENGLISH)
I wanted it, so I took it.

Antonio flings the buckle at Charlie. It bounces off his
face and skitters across the floor. He jumps up from the
table, glaring at his father as he wipes the blood from his
cheek.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
You are not my son! You are only a
thief and you cannot live in my house
any longer!

Charlie turns to his Mother.

LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
So long, Mama.

Rosalie runs over to Antonio and pounds on his chest as she
screams.

ROSALIE LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
No. NO! You cannot put my Sallie out
on the street!

Charlie picks up the gold buckle as he walks to the door,
then turns back toward his mother, who has collapsed in tears.

LUCIANO
You ain't always gonna be poor.

As Charlie exits, a plate of lasagna CRASHES against the
door.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT: RISTORANTE CASTELLAMARE - NIGHT SUPER: 1920

Charlie peruses a menu at a table with Frank Costello. He's
a few years older and better groomed, in the manner of a
successful ethnic. He gestures to a waiter.

CHARLIE
What would it take to get a couple
fingers of Scotch?

WAITER
A miracle. We have nothing.

CHARLIE
I finally get the dough for good
booze, and them frustrated old broads
in the WTCU put the country on the
wagon.

The waiter shrugs and moves on.

FRANK
I hear they're gettin' twenty a bottle
for fuckin' moonshine.

MEYER LANSKY AND BUGSY SIEGEL

come through the front door. Lansky's still short and
unprepossessing, but Siegel's grown into a ladykiller. They're
accompanied by TOMMY REINA, stout, homely, in his late 20's.
Reina waits by the door, hat in hand, as Meyer and Bugsy
join Charlie and Frank.

MEYER
So what's the good news.

FRANK
Th kid in the Building Inspector's
office couldn't wait ta roll over.
Tell me the warehouse you wanna knock
in, and ya got the blueprints.

MEYER
And the 15th Precinct?

FRANK
Captain Murray won't go under one-
fifty for the lottery.

MEYER
It's not enough we pay his rent, we
gotta buy him a house too?

CHARLIE
Fuck 'em.

The Boys mumble their assent. Bugsy nods toward Reina.

CHARLIE
Sure. Bring your friend over.

TOMMY REINA

shakes hands around the table. Takes a seat.

SIEGEL
Tommy Reina. Good pal. Better partner.

CHARLIE
From your mouth ta God's ear.

SIEGEL
He's got a line on the good stuff.

TOMMY REINA
A friend of Nucky Johnson has a boxcar
of bottled-in-bond Scotch whisky
sittin' on a spur in Philly. Wants
35 G's. I got ten.

SIEGEL
Nucky's a straight shooter. We ain't
gonna get fucked.

CHARLIE
Who's Nucky's friend?

Reina pauses and looks around the table.

TOMMY REINA
Arnold Rothstein.

The guys look to each other. Disbelieving.

FRANK
No disrespect, Tommy, but why would
Mr. Arnold Rothstein wanna do business
with bums like us?

SIEGEL
Why ya always gotta go lookin' for a
gift in the mouth of the horse?

Reina shrugs his shoulders. Charlie looks to Meyer.

CHARLIE
How ya figure?

Meyer ponders for a moment.

MEYER
It figures.

SIEGEL
Fuckin' right it figures.

CHARLIE
Twenty-five's pretty much our stake.
Anybody got a problem?

No one raises an objection.

CHARLIE
What's the deadline?

TOMMY REINA
Monday. Cash. In Philly.

CHARLIE
Wednesday.

TOMMY REINA
I don't think they wanna wait.

CHARLIE
Wednesday. Or not at all.

SIEGEL
We could lose the deal!

CHARLIE
If we have to.

TOMMY REINA
Let me see what I can do.

A SHORT, ROUND YOUNG MAN IN A FLASHY TUXEDO

emerges from a private room in the back of the restaurant,
an bevy of bodyguards in his wake. Diamond rings on his
fingers, a big cigar in his mouth, he radiates money and
power. Spotting Charlie and the others, he yells across the
room.

AL CAPONE
Get them bums outta here!

Charlie looks up sharply. Bugsy jumps to his feet, ready to
fight. Charlie's anger fades as quickly as it flashed.

CHARLIE
When did Capone get back in town?

As Capone approaches, Charlie stands, gives him a bearhug,
then stands back to inspect him.

CHARLIE
So Chicago's been good to ya.

AL CAPONE
I do right by Johnny Torrio and he
does right by me.

CHARLIE
Ya still owe me fifty bucks for the
train ticket.

AL CAPONE
And a lot more. Can we talk?

Charlie looks around to the phalanx of bodyguards.

CHARLIE
Sure. What's with the brick wall?

AL CAPONE
Since Colosimo bit it, I gotta keep
an eye out for his friends.

INT: LIMOUSINE - NIGHT

Luciano and Capone climb into the limo, as the bodyguards
remain behind on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.
Capone calls out to the Limo Driver.

AL CAPONE
Around the block.
(to Luciano)
Ya gotta get way from New York,
Charlie. Maranzano. Masseria. Them
old Dons are never gonna give ya any
daylight. Colosimo was the same way.
Couldn't see the future if it bit
him in the ass. But in Chicago you
can get away with axin' the Capo.
Here, you're stuck with 'em.

Capone gestures at his finery, the limo.

AL CAPONE
One fuckin' year ago I had ta hit
you up for train fare. Now I can buy
the fuckin' train. And I ain't even
a fuckin' Sicilian!

CHARLIE
But ya got a Boss.

AL CAPONE
Torrio ain't like them guys. He thinks
like an American. You'd like him,
Charlie. He'd like you.

CHARLIE
Maybe. But he'd still be the Boss.

Capone sticks a cigar in his mouth, and strikes a match to
light it. The side window EXPLODES under a shower of bullets
from a passing car.

CAPONE

dives to the floor. Charlie pulls a pistol from his jacket
and returns the fire, as the Limo Driver JERKS the steering
wheel to the left, ramming the limousine into the side of
the other car. A second hail of bullets cuts the Limo Diver
dead. The two cars careen together, crashing into a parked
car.

OUTSIDE THE CRASHED CARS

as the Gunman escapes from the second car. He tosses his
empty machine gun aside, pulls out a pistol, and runs down
an alley, leaving his wounded Driver behind.

CAPONE LOOKS UP FROM THE FLOOR

The stub of his cigar clenched in his teeth, the remainder
shot off. Charlie strikes a match and lights Capone's cigar.

CHARLIE
You're a big target, Al. Finish your
cigar.

LUCIANO

advances down the pitch dark alley, pistol drawn, silhouetted
against the light from the street behind him. A flash of
gunfire from the end of the alley, sends Charlie diving behind
a line of trash cans.

CHARLIE CRAWLS DOWN THE ALLEY

using the trash cans as cover. Two more shots ring out,
bouncing off the trash cans. Charlie shouts to the gunman.

CHARLIE
That's three.

Peering over the trash cans, Charlie can see that the alley
is a dead end, but he still can't make out the Gunman. Luciano
grabs a bottle and tosses it down the alley. As the gunman
wastes a shot on the decoy, Charlie dashes across the alley,
ducking behind a dumpster.

CHARLIE
Four!

Charlie pushes the dumpster down the alley, as he crouches
behind it. As he nears the end of the alley, two more shots
ping off the sides of the dumpster.

CHARLIE
Five! Six!

Charlie turns his back to the dumpster, gun drawn. Waiting
for the rat to scurry from his hole.

THE GUNMAN

cowering at the end of the alley, drops his emptied gun to
the pavement. He looks to the right of the dumpster, then
the left. Torn over which path to take. He makes a run to
the left.

AS THE GUNMAN RACES PAST THE DUMPSTER

Charlie calmly takes aim, and fells him with a single shot.

AS CHARLIE APPROACHES THE LIMOUSINE

Capone rises from his crouch in the back seat.

CHARLIE
Nobody kills a guy who owes me money.

CUT TO:

INT: RAILROAD DINING CAR - DAY

As Charlie and Tommy are seated, Charlie looks around at the
sober, well-dressed businessmen at breakfast. Suddenly aware
of the vulgarity of his attire, Charlie adjusts his jacket.

THE WAITER LAYS A BOWL OF OATMEAL IN FRONT OF TOMMY

and a plate of corn beef hash topped with a poached egg before
Charlie. Luciano watches how a banker in pinstripes eats the
same dish, then mimics his technique.

CUT TO:

INT: HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY

A set of double doors swing open and a butler leads Charlie
and Tommy into a palatial hotel suite. Nucky Johnson greets
them.

NUCKY JOHNSON
Come on in. I'll let Mr. Rothstein
know you're here.

As Johnson disappears into a bedroom, Charlie and Tommy plant
themselves on a sofa.

ARNOLD ROTHSTEIN EMERGES FROM THE BEDROOM

as impeccably turned out as any Park Avenue swell. As Tommy
moves to greet Rothstein, Charlie gestures for him to keep
his seat. Ignoring Tommy, Rothstein shakes Charlie's hand.

ROTHSTEIN
I'm glad you came down. I prefer to
do business face to face.

Rothstein and Johnson settle into chairs opposite the sofa.

CHARLIE
When my money moves, I go with it.

ROTHSTEIN
I trust Mr. Johnson filled you in on
the revisions.

Indignant, Tommy comes up in his seat.

TOMMY REINA
Revisions? He didn't say nothin'!

Charlie silences Tommy with a gesture.

NUCKY JOHNSON
There's been another offer at forty
thousand.

CHARLIE
We have a deal.

NUCKY JOHNSON
You asked for an extension.

CHARLIE
And when you gave it too me, I knew
you were hurtin'.

ROTHSTEIN
Scotch is a very valuable commodity
these days.

CHARLIE
Mr. Rothstein, Can I be frank? You're
a gambler, and I know you've had
losses. I also know you could sell
to Maranzano or Masseria for fifty
G's, but nobody sells to those guys
once. So if ya really got another
buyer, and ya wanna welch, I ain't
gonna beef.

NUCKY JOHNSON
Ya wanna queer the deal? Be my guest.
But show some goddamn respect! This
ain't some Guinea pimp you're talkin'
to here! This is Arnold Rothstein!
THE MAN WHO FIXED THE FUCKIN' WORLD
SERIES!!!

Rothstein gestures for Nucky to cool down.

CHARLIE
I ain't mad. I ain't even surprised.
But I can't let ya fuck me. On the
other hand, if ya got needs beyond
the thirty-five, I'll advance it to
you against our next deal on the
same terms.

ROTHSTEIN
Could we step outside?

CUT TO:

INT: HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY

Charlie follows Rothstein into the elevators.

CHARLIE
I got my partner in there!

ROTHSTEIN
I cannot bear to look at that hideous
suit one minute more.

CUT TO:

INT: WANAMAKER'S DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY

Charlie stands before a mirror in a private room, as a tailor
fits him. A salesman enters holding a grey pinstripe.
Rothstein, sitting to one side, doesn't approve.

ROTHSTEIN
That's a suit for a man grubbing for
money, not one who has it.

The salesman nods and exits. Rothstein turns to Charlie.

ROTHSTEIN
I have exclusive deals with four
distillers in Scotland, and ships
under contract to bring ten thousand
cases a month onto the Jersey coast.
I need distribution, but I won't do
business with Maranzano or Masseria.
All their talk of honor only indicates
their misplaced interest in power
rather than money.

Charlie inspects his new, elegant profile in the mirror.

CHARLIE
Their asses are here, but their
fuckin' heads are still in Sicily.

ROTHSTEIN
Precisely. We are the true
entrepreneurs, and Prohibition is
the greatest opportunity we shall
ever have. America is begging to be
taken like an overripe virgin, but
they're still fighting over the crumbs
of Little Italy.

CHARLIE
We'll start small. When we got 'em
lined up, we increase the supply a
bit at a time. Only sell the best
stuff. And keep the price high, 'cause
ya know how folks hate the taste of
cheap booze.

ROTHSTEIN
An intelligent plan, Mr. Luciano,
but listen to me well. It can be
ruined in a single careless moment.
Keep your feet on the ground and
your high opinion of yourself under
your hat.

CHARLIE
Don't worry. I got friends to take
care of that.

CUT TO:

INT: A MIDDLE CLASS APARTMENT - NIGHT SUPER: TWO YEARS LATER

In a candlelit dining room, Meyer Lansky sits opposite ANNA,
a girl of curiously old-fashioned appearance. As her parents,
exemplars of Jewish respectability, relax back into their
chairs, doting on the couple as the maid clears the dishes.

ANNA'S FATHER
Produce. Produce is a livelihood. In
thirty years it's never disappointed
me. Good times and bad, people gotta
eat.

Meyer nods dutifully, as Anna watches him admiringly from
across the table.

ANNA'S FATHER
Produce sent my Anna to private
school.

Anna's father knocks on the table.

ANNA'S FATHER
Mahogany. Produce.

ANNA'S MOTHER
Enough produce.

He can't resist a final shot.

ANNA'S FATHER
There's always room for a new man.

Outside the window, a car horn sounds. Meyer looks around.

ON THE STREET BELOW

Luciano, Siegel, and Costello wait in a car. Meyer runs across
the street and climbs in.

CUT TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Costello, and Lansky wander through the living room. Awed by
the restrained good taste of the furnishings. Noel Coward
might live here.

LUCIANO
Rothstein put me on to this place.

SIEGEL STANDS BY THE BEDROOM DOOR

Its precise art deco lines softened by the moonlight glow of
a scallop-shell lamp on the wall over the satin-covered bed.

SIEGEL
Jesus. How's a guy supposed ta fuck
in a joint like this?

THE GUYS

Huddle around a coffee table in the living room, as Charlie
fills three glasses with champagne and passes them around.

LUCIANO
Meyer just finished the books.

LANSKY
A million bucks. In the last six
months.

Charlie walks to a large rosewood wardrobe, and pulls it
open. A BURST of confetti explodes from within, followed by
the rude honk of noisemakers. A gorgeous showgirl in the
briefest of glittering costumes steps out to the wild cheers
of the guys. Followed by another, and another. Meyer squirms
as a leggy blonde slides onto his lap and runs her tongue
along his neck.

CHARLIE STANDS TO ONE SIDE, ALONE AND CONTENT

while the others pour champagne down each other's throats.

CUT TO:

BUGSY AS HE STUMBLES DRUNKENLY OUT THE FRONT DOOR

a girl under each arm. Charlie closes the door behind them
and surveys the living room. No serious damage done.

IN THE DIMLY LIT BLACK MARBLE BATH

Charlie lays back into the foamy bubbles. Lifting a cigar to
his mouth, he inhales, then lets the smoke drift lazily out
of his mouth. He picks up a champagne glass from the side of
the tub and sips. For this moment, utterly content.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT: GAMBLING CLUB LOBBY - NIGHT

CLOSE - on a waterfall of silver dollars cascading from a
marble maiden's bowl into the coin-choked pool below. A tony
crowd in evening wear passes around the fountain and on into
the club.

DON MARANZANO

moves through the lobby, a bit self-conscious in this crowd,
yet still a man of noble bearing.

INSIDE THE CLUB

Charlie leans back against the bar, surveying the customers
clustered around roulette wheels and cocktail tables. A fine-
featured Young Man stands next to Charlie, trying to get the
attention of the bartender. Charlie snaps his fingers, and
points out the fellow to the bartender. The Young Man tries
snapping his fingers, without much success.

BOBBY CLOWES
Guess I just wasn't born to it.

Charlie shrugs. Bobby extends a hand.

BOBBY CLOWES
I'm Bobby Clowes. Kansas City.

LUCIANO
Charlie Luciano.

BOBBY CLOWES
You ever been near a meat packing
plant? My father makes a couple
million per, but the smell in his
office is enough to make you puke.

LUCIANO
Got the same problem with my pop --
garlic. Nothin' you can do.

BOBBY CLOWES
The goddamned bastards.

LUCIANO
Tell me about it.

CHARLIE AND BOBBY

sit at a table in a corner of the club.

BOBBY CLOWES
I remember reading a poem in college.
"Sicily. Poor, noble isle...".

LUCIANO
Poor, yeah.

BOBBY CLOWES
But not you.

Charlie leans back and knocks on the wood paneled wall.

VOICE
Am I such bad luck?

Charlie looks up at Don Maranzano who hovers over the table.
He extends his hand, but doesn't stand.

LUCIANO
Don Maranzano. Welcome.

MARANZANO
I've heard so much about this club
of yours. I had to come and see.

LUCIANO
Good liquor draws a good crowd.

MARANZANO
I must know more of you, my son.

LUCIANO
Not a lot ta know.

Maranzano voice takes on a faint edge of menace.

MARANZANO
Then perhaps you need to know me.

LUCIANO
Don, I'd be honored.

Don Maranzano bows slightly from the waist, turns, and
disappears into the crowd. Charlie's expression darkens.

BOBBY
Who was that?

LUCIANO
My fuckin' meat packin' plant.

CUT TO:

EXT: MANHASSET ESTATE - DAY

An expanse of lawn sweeps toward a colossal mansion sprawled
across the crest of a hill. A small wooden ball bounces into
view, accompanied by the off-screen THUNDER of horses hooves.

HALF A DOZEN POLO PLAYERS ON HORSEBACK

descend on the ball, mallets held high. One player
outmaneuvers the rest and sends the ball shooting across the
lawn. The pack sets off in pursuit.

AN UNBROKEN LINE OF EXPENSIVE AUTOMOBILES

extends along one side of the grounds. Bobby and Charlie
follow the match from the front seat of a Packard convertible.
In the back, Bugsy and Frank make no attempt to hide their
boredom.

SIEGEL
Know somethin'? This stuff's just
kick-the-can on ponies.

LUCIANO
Shuddup.

SIEGEL
Wanna know what I think?

LUCIANO
Spare us.

SIEGEL
I think these rich shits -- no offense
Bobby -- are so dead below the waist
that they gotta ride around all day
swingin' at each other ta get their
broads hot.

Charlie glares at Bugsy, but Bobby laughs.

BOBBY CLOWES
You got a point there, Bugsy.

Frank exchanges looks with a COOL BLONDE in the next car.

FRANK
Hey. Whatever the hell works.

CUT TO:

EXT: CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY

A rowboat floats across the frame, Meyer at the oars. Anna
faces him, posed in a white dress under a pink parasol.

ANOTHER BOAT FLOATS INTO FRAME

following the first. Anna's sweating Father rows, his wife
faces him, holding a newspaper over her head.

CUT TO:

INT: MANSION BALLROOM - NIGHT

A Negro jazz band pumps out an African rhythm to incite the
Anglo-Saxon libido. Bobby stands before the band,
"conducting". On the floor, Frank hangs on to his Cool Blonde.

IN THE ENTRY HALL

A PORCELAIN-SKINNED BEAUTY shrieks in delighted terror as
she races up a massive marble staircase. Halfway up she stops.
At the bottom of the stairs, Bugsy stands with his arms across
his chest, feigning indifference. The Beauty's panties bounce
off his face. Bugsy charges up the stairs.

ON THE TERRACE

Charlie leans against a pillar looking out across the lawn
toward the Long Island Sound. Behind him, white curtains
billow out through the French doors to the Ballroom, as though
blown by the force of the music. Charlie lights a cigarette.

WOMAN'S VOICE
You come to parties to be alone?

Charlie looks around, but sees only the billowing curtains.
A breeze lifts them higher, and a woman in a long white dress
materializes beneath. Somewhat older than the other women at
the party, and far more elegant. She speaks in a cultivated
accent of indeterminate European origin.

GAY ORLOVA
Why are Americans always so desperate
to have a good time?

UPSTAIRS

Bugsy moves down a long empty corridor, trying each door.
One opens to reveal a shadowed, half-clothed sexual coupling
in progress. Bugsy carefully pulls the door closed. Turning
around, he sees his Beauty hiding in an alcove. Laughing,
she races back down the hallway. Bugsy pursues.

ON THE TERRACE

Charlie and Gay Orlova sit a discreet but friendly distance
from each other on the stone railing encircling the terrace.

GAY ORLOVA
Inside, they were talking of you.

LUCIANO
I can just imagine.

GAY ORLOVA
No. They envy you.

LUCIANO
For being a bootlegger?

GAY ORLOVA
For being a man.

Charlie, nonplussed, doesn't respond. Across the terrace,
the Beauty runs out of the front door and down the curving
driveway, followed closely by Bugsy.

TWO NEGRO CHAUFFEURS

Idle away their time under a tree next to the line of cars
parked around the drive. Behind them, the rear door to a
limousine stands open. Bugsy's feet, trousers around his
ankles, can be seen braced on the ground below the door.

SHOOTING THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD OF THE LIMOUSINE

Bugsy's pants meld with the moans of the Beauty, behind the
screen of the front seat.

AS CHARLIE WATCHES

Gay disappears through the billowing curtains into the house.

IN THE BALLROOM

Charlie looks around for Gay, but can't spot her.

CUT TO:

INT: RISTORANTE CASTELLAMARE - DAY

Conversation dies as Charlie moves through the restaurant,
looking considerably more poised and commanding then last we
saw him here with Capone. All eyes follow him as he moves
toward the private dining room in back.

AS CHARLIE ENTERS THE BACK ROOM

Don Maranzano rises to greet him, hands held up beside his
face, like the Pope bestowing a blessing. He embraces Charlie,
whose face betrays his deep annoyance with this phony
intimacy.

MARANZANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Salvatore. My young Caesar. First
me, Sallie. Then you.

LUCIANO
The name's Charlie.

Maranzano laughs, steps back and holds Charlie at arm's
length.

MARANZANO
Words of praise are meant only for
the great, and you, my son, will do
great things.

Charlie's ready to spit in the old man's face, but missing
the hostility, Maranzano holds his right hand up to Charlie's
face. A signet ring with the initials "S.M.", gleams on his
finger.

MARANZANO
My bambino, please.

Choking back his pride, Charlie kisses the ring. The Don
glows.

AT THE TABLE

Charlie eats with the elaborate care of the newly arrived.

MARANZANO
Mussolini is raping Sicily like every
Roman before him. So our brothers
are coming to America. Soldiers
willing to fight and die. Men who
know the meaning of honor.

LUCIANO
Don, you talk about honor, but you
mean vendetta. Killin' an' more
killin' until nobody can remember
how it all started.

Maranzano leans back in his chair, appraising Charlie.

MARANZANO
And how many soldiers do you have?

LUCIANO
I've got friends.

MARANZANO
I have six hundred. Soldiers. And
more every week off the boat.

LUCIANO
An' Masseria's got seven hundred.

Maranzano hisses at the mention of Masseria's name.

MARANZANO
He's an animal!

LUCIANO
(IN ITALIAN)
He's the Boss of all the Bosses, and
I respect him.

Maranzano slaps his palm on the table.

MARANZANO
You are of the Sicilian blood. You
waste your time with these Jews!

Charlie lets that comment hang in the air for a moment, then
pushes his chair away from the table.

LUCIANO
Thanks for lunch.

Calming down, Maranzano waves away the disagreement. Pours
Charlie a glass of wine.

MARANZANO
The Internal Revenue came to my
offices. I turned over all my ledgers.
They found nothing. Charlie, I am a
businessman.

LUCIANO
Sittin' around gives me the piles.
You got a proposition?

Maranzano blesses Charlie with a sweet, fatherly smile.

MARANZANO
We combine everything. You are my
second in command.

LUCIANO
What about the share.

MARANZANO
You get fifteen percent.

LUCIANO
I got partners.

MARANZANO
Your Calabrian friend, I will accept.
At least Costello eats pasta like
us.

LUCIANO
And the Jews?

MARANZANO
(IN ITALIAN)
Share with them as you wish. Do
business with them on your own. But
no filthy Jew will ever be a brother
to me.

CUT TO:

CHARLIE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Lansky, Siegel, Costello, and Luciano ponder their options.

LUCIANO
Those fucks can't leave each other
alone. Maranzano and Masseria ain't
gonna be satisfied until one of 'em
starts a war.

SIEGEL
Let 'em kill each other off! Why
should we care?

LUCIANO
There won't be any way to stay out
of it.

FRANK
I think Maranzano's talkin' a hell
of a deal.

SIEGEL
Sure, Frankie. Fuck me. Fuck Meyer.
Fuck Arnold Rothstein who's made us
all rich. All so you can be an fuckin'
honorary Sicilian!

FRANK
Does Maranzano have to kiss you on
the lips before you'll take his
goddamn money?

SIEGEL
If he's gonna fuck me up the ass!

LANSKY
Hey. Calm down. They're crazy. We're
not. Let's use that. Okay?

Siegel and Costello shrug a truce.

LANSKY
Bugsy, you and I don't need to be in
business with Maranzano. We got more
jobs than we can handle. That's not
the problem.

LUCIANO
So what is the problem?

LANSKY
The minute we sell out to Maranzano,
that bastard is gonna have you knocked
off.

A momentary silence falls over the group.

LANSKY
He's afraid of you, 'cause you're a
Sicilian. And maybe, someday, you're
gonna want to be the Boss of Bosses.
If he iced you now, there'd be a
stink. But if you work for him,
nobody's got a beef.

Costello mulls the logic.

SIEGEL
The deal's too good, Frankie

FRANK
What are ya thinkin', Charlie?

LUCIANO
That I got a smart Jew partner.

CUT TO:

INT: TRAPANI SOCIAL CLUB - NIGHT

A raucous swirl of unrestrained celebration, as a hundred
man and women dance, drink, and eat to the accompaniment of
a Sicilian band. Charlie and Bugsy push through the crowd.

LUCIANO
I'm gonna thank the Don for the
invite, then we're gettin' the hell
out of here!

Tommy Reina appears from out of the crowd. Embraces Bugsy.

TOMMY REINA
Paisan! Merry Christmas!

SIEGEL
Good ta see ya. How's the Mrs.?

Tommy grabs his balls.

TOMMY REINA
Like always, Bugs. Pregnant!

Tommy leans over to Charlie to whisper.

TOMMY REINA
So ya told Maranzano ta fuck off.

Charlie shakes his head "no".

LUCIANO
I sent him a case of Scotoch.

TOMMY REINA
Sure. A polite "fuck you".

LUCIANO
Where's Masseria?

TOMMY REINA
In the corner. He's been askin' after
ya.

AT THE CORNER TABLE

JOE MASSERIA holds court. Fat, crude, a man of unrestrained
power and appetite, he has, none the less, a charmingly earthy
directness of manner. At Masseria's right hand his toady,
SONNY CATANIA, dances attendance. Across the table, VITO
NOTO, still in his teens, enjoys the favor of two ladies.
Masseria pounds his empty wine goblet on the table and howls.

MASSERIA
WHERE'S MY FUCKIN' WINE! Spend five
grand for a party an' can't get a
fuckin' glass of wine.

CHARLIE
Ya already look drunk ta me, Don.

Silence falls over the table.

MASSERIA
But not drunk enough!

Masseria LAUGHS. Rising, he envelops Charlie in a bear hug.

MASSERIA
Buona fuckin' sera.

He busses Charlie on the cheek and whispers.

MASSERIA
Maranzano's tryin' ta kill me.

IN THE MEN'S ROOM

A couple of guys pull up their flies as Catania herds them
out of the men's room. Masseria pushes his way in, followed
by Luciano. Masseria moves to one of the stalls and drops
his pants without bothering to close the door.

MASSERIA
He's nottin' but a fuckin' cunt.
He's got no balls so he schemes and
lies like an old woman.

Not especially anxious to watch Masseria take a dump, Charlie
steps over to the urinals.

MASSERIA
He wants you on ice, 'cause that way
he thinks he can beat me! Fuck that!
Come with me and we'll knock the
crap out of him together!

Masseria punctuates his tirade with a blast of intestinal
gas.

LUCIANO
If ever I need a Boss, Joe.

MASSERIA
Yeah. Yeah. I bet ya feed Maranzano
that same line.

In the ensuing silence, the only sound in Charlie's piss
ringing against the porcelain of the urinal.

MASSERIA
I like that.

LUCIANO
Whatta ya mean, Boss?

MASSERIA
Ya piss like a man.

CUT TO:

INT: BOBBY CLOWES APARTMENT - NIGHT

Lansky and his girl friend, Anna, stand in a corner, watching
the ebb and flow of a holiday cocktail party, as Bobby Clowes
greets his guests. The crowd older, waspy, and subdued. Frank
Costello approaches, a bit toasted.

FRANK
Hey, Meyer. This the chickie that
got your number?

Meyer makes a face indicating that Frankie should cool it.
Frank looks apologetically to Anna.

LANSKY
Anna, I want you to meet an associate
of mine. Frank Costello.

ANNA
You're an importer also?

His brain not at 100%, Frank puzzles a reply.

FRANK
Well...

LANSKY
Mr. Costello handles our business
with the government agencies.

FRANK
That's it.

AT THE FRONT DOOR

Charlie and Bugsy arrive from the Masseria party. Bugsy eyes
the group skeptically as he slips out of his coat. No party
girls here.

SIEGEL
Where's the stiff?

LUCIANO
Come on. Be polite.

Bugsy slips his coat back over his shoulders.

SIEGEL
Sorry, Charlie. I gotta get my Johnson
worked tonight.

LUCIANO
Jesus.

SIEGEL
Hell. It's been four days!

CHARLIE WALKS OUT ONTO A BALCONY OVERLOOKING CENTRAL PARK

Bracing himself against the cold. At he railing, Bobby huddles
with Gay Orlova. Charlie hesitates, but Bobby calls him over.

BOBBY
Come join the Polar Bear Club.

Gay lights up as Charlie approaches.

BOBBY
Charlie, Gay Orlova.

LUCIANO
We already met.

Bobby quickly sizes up the situation.

BOBBY
My Aunt Dill is in from Kansas City.
Maybe I'd better check on her.

As Bobby heads back inside, Gay rubs her arms against the
cold. Charlie takes off his jacket and slips it over her
shoulders.

LUCIANO
You here with Bobby?

GAY ORLOVA
No. I'm here with you.

This evokes a shy smile from Charlie.

LUCIANO
It's been a while. I didn't figure
to see you again. In fact, I wasn't
sure I ever saw you at all.

Gay snuggles against Charlie, shivering.

GAY ORLOVA
It's so cold out here.

Charlie embraces her, brushing her hair with his hand.

LUCIANO
There are warmer places.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Gay lays back across the satin sheets, legs and arms akimbo,
relaxed and aroused. Charlie covers her with hungry kisses,
as though her every curve were an attribute of a goddess,
and each caress of his lips, the praise of a poet.

ANOTHER ANGLE

as their voices meld rhythmically in ecstatic exclamation,
and will falls prey to desire.

CURLED UP TOGETHER

in a tangle of satin, they bask in the afterglow of passion
like lizards sunning themselves on a rock.

GAY ORLOVA
Are you frightened?

CHARLIE
Why should I be?

A smile edges across Gay's face.

GAY ORLOVA
You're so soft for a hard man.

Charlie pulls her closer.

GAY ORLOVA
I had everything. Once.

CHARLIE
So what happened?

GAY ORLOVA
Life knocked me back.

CHARLIE
I came into this world flat on my
ass.

GAY ORLOVA
And now you have everything.

CHARLIE
No. Not everything.

GAY ORLOVA
Up down. Down up. It's the same. You
see things through both eyes.

CHARLIE
I guess I am. Just a little.

GAY ORLOVA
What do you mean?

CHARLIE
Scared.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S BEDROOM - MORNING

Charlie's eyes flutter, then open, in response to the morning
light spilling across his face. Rolling over, he finds himself
facing an empty bed. The petty annoyance of morning sleepiness
drains from his face, unmasking a blank stare of existential
panic quite unlike any emotion Charlie has felt before.

GAY ORLOVA

Emerges from the bathroom, a man's silk robe wrapped tight
across her breasts. She hesitates as she sees the look on
Charlie's face, then slips out of the robe and begins
dressing.

LUCIANO
What's the matter?

GAY ORLOVA
I must be going.

IN THE LIVING ROOM

Gay walks to the door, Charlie trailing after, pulling on
the robe that Gay discarded.

LUCIANO
Come on. It's Christmas. At least
stay for breakfast.

GAY ORLOVA
I'm already late.

LUCIANO
For what?

Gay shoots him a look that says, "not this shit already".
Charlie pulls up short. She leans over and kisses him quickly.
The telephone rings.

GAY ORLOVA
Answer your phone.

Charlie moves to the phone.

CHARLIE
Don't go.
(picking up phone)
Hello.

LANSKY
(ON PHONE)
We got problems, Charlie.

Gay waves, then pulls the front door closed behind her.
Charlie covers the butt end of the receiver and yells.

CHARLIE
I don't even know where you live!
(back on phone)
Meyer, do I have to remind you what
day it is?

LANSKY
(ON PHONE)
Three of our trucks were hijacked
last night. We got New Year's comin'
and no inventory.

Silently, Charlie curses his fate.

CHARLIE
Get hold of Frank and Bugsy. We gotta
go to Atlantic City. Now.

CUT TO:

EXT: A SEASIDE HOUSE - DAY

Under grey winter skies, youngsters frolic on a frozen lawn.
They look up as Charlie's sedan pulls into the driveway.

INT: NUCKY JOHNSON'S HOUSE - DAY

The chaos of a family Christmas Day plays in the background,
as Johnson leads Luciano and the Boys to a quiet study. Arnold
Rothstein stands at the window, staring out at the ocean.

ROTHSTEIN
Why didn't you tell me that Maranzano
had made you an offer?

LUCIANO
I turned him down flat.

Rothstein turns around and fixes his gaze on Charlie.

ROTHSTEIN
And if I had known, I would have
warned you to expect this. We could
have prepared.

LUCIANO
Masseria's been after me too.

ROTHSTEIN
Thank you for keeping me informed.

LUCIANO
We were overdue to get hit.

ROTHSTEIN
You think this is a coincidence?
Next week half your customers will
be buying their Scotch, our Scotch,
from Maranzano. In a month, he'll be
in Scotland talking to my distillers,
because you can't move product. I'll
be out of business, and you'll be
working for Maranzano.

LUCIANO
We can operate around these guys.

ROTHSTEIN
Not by scurrying around like a puppies
in a roomful of elephants.

LUCIANO
Okay. I'm listening.

ROTHSTEIN
A hundred years ago Austria was run
by a prince named Metternich. Austria
was weak, and it's neighbors were
strong. But they were ruled by
passionate men, while Metternich was
ruthless and brilliant. If one country
got too strong, he rallied an alliance
against it. He would lead all of
Europe to the brink of war, then
bring the enemies together and forge
the peace.

Rothstein cups his hands in front of him.

ROTHSTEIN
He barely had an Army, but he had
Europe by the balls.

Rothstein's words hang in the air, the Boys a bit bewildered
by the high-flown rhetoric.

LANSKY
Makes sense, Charlie. We gotta be
making the moves from now on.

Charlie ponders for a moment.

LUCIANO
This is your territory, Nucky. How'd
you like ta make a lotta dough for
doin' nothin'?

NUCKY JOHNSON
Spill it.

LUCIANO
Rothstein gets an exclusive to land
booze on the Jersey shore. We get
protection for our trucks up to the
Camden ferry. You get ten percent
from each end.

NUCKY JOHNSON
(to Rothstein)
There's a shipment landin' at Cape
May today. Might solve your problem
with New Year's.

ROTHSTEIN
Who's is it?

Nucky can't help but smile.

NUCKY JOHNSON
Don Maranzano's.

EXT: THE JERSEY WOODS - DUSK

By the side of a two lane road, Luciano and Costello, axes
in hand, chop awkwardly at the trunk of a tree. Dropping the
axes, they push against the trunk, which finally cracks and
falls away from the road with a great crash.

UP THE ROAD

Lansky walks along a railroad track. He steps on a lever
mechanism built into the rail.

AT THE GRADE

where the rails cross the road, the warning signal clangs
and flashes red. Siegel waves to Lansky down the track. He
pours water from a ten gallon container down the face of the
grade.

CUT TO:

EXT: ROAD - NIGHT

Headlights swing into view around a curve in the road.

INT: TRUCK - SAME

A brawny DRIVER squints at the road ahead. A hawk-faced GUNMAN
rides shotgun. The railroad grading looms into view. The
warning signal flashing and clanging.

OUTSIDE THE TRUCK

As the Gunman, shotgun in hand, moves cautiously up the
grading, his breath blowing white in he cold. He slips on
the ice that has formed. The BLAST of his gun echoes through
the night. He waves sheepishly to the driver.

INSIDE THE TRUCK

The Driver shouts to the men in the back of the truck.

DRIVER
(IN ITALIAN)
It was only an accident!

IN THE WOODS

Costello and Luciano struggle to topple a tree. Unable to do
so, they pick up their axes and slash desperately at the
trunk.

SHOOTING THROUGH THE TRUCK WINDSHIELD

The Gunman limps toward the truck, rubbing his ass. Another
BLAST shatters the night, and the Gunman's chest EXPLODES,
splattering his guts across the windshield. As he falls, WE
SEE Siegel, a wool scarf wrapped across his face, scramble
up from the ditch at the side of the road, his shotgun
smoking.

THE PANICKED DRIVER

Slams the truck into gear, running over the body of the
Gunman.

SIEGEL FIRES AGAIN

shattering the windshield, then leaps back into the ditch.

THE TRUCK MOVES HALFWAY UP THE GRADE

where its rear wheels spin helplessly on the ice.

THE DRIVER SEES SIEGEL CLIMB BACK OUT OF THE DITCH

and calmly pull a pistol from his coat. He struggles to get
the truck into reverse. As Siegel levels his gun, the truck
lurches backward, bumping sickeningly over the body of the
Gunman.

ON LUCIANO AND COSTELLO

As they push mightily against the tree trunk. It CRACKS, and
CRASHES across the road, cutting off the path of the truck.

LANSKY AND LUCIANO

scarves pulled across their faces, race toward the truck
from opposite sides of the road. They beat their pistols on
its sides, and order the men to throw their guns out.

SIEGEL RIPS THE TOP OFF A BAG OF ROCK SALT

and pours the contents across the grade. He trots toward the
front of the truck, his pistol leveled at the Driver.

COSTELLO -- ALSO MASKED

moves out of the woods toward the rear of the truck, as Siegel
roughly drags the Driver around to the back of the truck.
Costello shoves his pistol under the Driver's chin.

FRANK
(IN ITALIAN)
Tell them to throw their guns out!

DRIVER
(IN ITALIAN)
It's impossible. Do as they say!

Costello pulls the driver in front of him as a shield. Siegel
climbs up onto the rear bumper and unlatches the door.

AMIDST THE STACKED CASES OF SCOTCH

stand two Guards in long coats.

FRANK
(IN ITALIAN)
Throw out your guns and coats!

The Guards comply, and step off the truck, hands raised over
their heads. Luciano, Lansky, Costello, and Siegel surround
them, all still masked, all with guns leveled. Siegel pats
the First Guard down. He pulls an antique gold watch from
the man's vest pocket. The Guard grabs for Siegel's hand.

FIRST GUARD
No!

Luciano and Lansky move in closer to Bugsy.

LUCIANO
Forget it.

SIEGEL
Fuck 'em.

Siegel jerks his hand away, gripping the watch in his fist
beside his face. The Guard grabs at the watch, catching
Bugsy's scarf, and pulling it from his face.

SIEGEL

Knocks the Guard to the ground, beating him viciously with
his pistol. As the Guard begs for mercy, Siegel slams the
barrel of his pistol into the Guard's mouth, and fires. Siegel
stands up and looks to the Second Guard.

TRUCK HORN BLASTS

A pair of headlight beams swing across the scene, as a second
truck, identical to the first, screeches to a halt just short
of the fallen tree. The Second Guard makes a run, but Siegel
cuts him down.

THE DRIVER BREAKS AWAY FROM COSTELLO

and dives into the foliage of the fallen tree.

GUNMEN

pour out of the second truck and open fire. Shots ring out
from both sides, with the Driver caught in the middle.

LUCIANO

runs to the front of the truck and jumps behind the wheel.
The engine whines, but won't turn over.

COSTELLO AND LANSKY

seek cover along the sides of the truck, but Siegel charges
boldly out into the open, firing into the foliage of the
tree.

ON THE ROOF OF THE SECOND TRUCK

a gunman draws a bead on Siegel as he advances on the tree.
As if by instinct, Siegel looks up at the gunman on the roof
and blasts him away. Tossing the pistol aside, he pulls
another from his coat.

AS THE TRUCK ROARS TO LIFE - COSTELLO AND LANSKY

climb into the back, shouting for Siegel to join them.

SIEGEL CONTINUES TO BLAST AWAY

at the fallen tree, when another gunman jumps out from behind
the truck, and wings Bugsy on the right hand.

BUGSY RETREATS TO THE DEPARTING TRUCK

Looking back as Meyer and Frank pull him aboard. The Driver
crawls out of the branches of the fallen tree, and on toward
the second truck.

OUTSIDE THE TRUCK

as it roars up the grade, rear tires catching on the salt.
The truck bounces over the tracks, and speeds on down the
road.

INSIDE THE TRUCK

Charlie slams a fist against the steering wheel.

LUCIANO
SHIT!

Lansky leans through the window from the rear of the truck.

LANSKY
We'll figure out something.

LUCIANO
I'm supposed to be at my old man's
for Christmas dinner at eight.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO FAMILY DINING ROOM - NIGHT

In a respectable, middle class apartment, Antonio, Rosalie,
Bartolo, Bartolo's wife, and his two small children, sit
glumly around a table groaning with holiday delicacies.
Bartolo picks up a knife and moves to carve the turkey.
Antonio erupts.

ANTONIO LUCIANO
LEAVE IT ALONE!

BARTOLO
The food's already cold. We gotta
wait for the rats to come out?

Antonio glares at him. Bartolo tosses the knife onto the
table. The doorbell rings. Bartolo jumps up to answer it.

OUTSIDE THE DOOR

where Charlie waits with his arms full of gifts. As Bartolo
opens the door, Charlie catches sight of his father's deathly
stare. He sets the gifts an a chair and hands Bart a wad of
twenties.

CHARLIE
When the old man calms down give him
this.

Charlie fishes around in his pocket, and comes with a stunning
sapphire necklace.

CHARLIE
Tell Ma I'm sorry. I didn't have
time to get it wrapped.

CUT TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S BEDROOM - DAY

Charlie paces the room, his brow furrowed with concern,
carrying the phone as he talks in low urgent tones.

IN THE LIVING ROOM - LANSKY, COSTELLO, AND SIEGEL

sit around the coffee table, still in the clothes they wore
for the hijack. The contents of the bar are scattered across
the coffee table, indicating serious drinking in progress.
Costello glowers at Siegel, as Bugsy uses his bandaged right
hand to pour a fresh measure of Scotch.

SIEGEL
I got a booger hangin' out my nose,
paisan? Cause if I don't, I suggest
you step over to the fuckin' mirror
and take a look.

Costello doesn't respond, but maintains his accusing gaze.

LANSKY
Come off it, Bugs.

SIEGEL
(mocking)
Come off it, Bugs.

LANSKY
Ben-jamin.

Bugsy grabs the whiskey bottle, shatters it across the edge
of the table, and holds the jagged edge to his opposite wrist.

SIEGEL
Is it blood ya want?

Siegel jams his wrist against the jagged edge, sparking a
trickle of blood. He holds his wrist over the table, letting
the blood drip into an empty glass. He "milks" his arm to
increase the flow of blood.

SIEGEL
Tell me when ya got enough.

Lansky shakes his head in disgust.

LANSKY
There's nothin' in this world crazier
than a crazy fuckin' Jew.

A white shirt flies into Siegel's face. Charlie stands to
one side, bare-chested.

LUCIANO
Wrap it.

Bugsy's bravado collapses in the face of Charlie's bloodless
calm. He wraps his arm. Luciano lowers himself into a chair.

LUCIANO
Johnson's still on board. Even
Maranzano won't screw with Nucky in
Atlantic City. But everywhere else,
we got nothing but problems.

SIEGEL
I'll knock 'em in, Charlie. I can do
it. Blow his fuckin' head off. Get
rid of the bastard for good.

LUCIANO
You wouldn't live out the week.

LANSKY
We got exactly two choices, Maranzano
or Masseria.

SIEGEL
They don't give a shit about us!

LUCIANO
Masseria's scared. He might make our
deal.

SIEGEL
We can't sell out to those guys.
They ain't businessmen!

But nobody pays the slightest attention to Bugsy's protests.

FRANK
But Maranzano's got the men and the
brains.

LUCIANO
Which is why he doesn't need us.

Frustrated at being ignored, Bugsy shouts.

SIEGEL
All they care about is killing the
nephew of some guy who screwed their
grandmother fifty years ago!

Charlie continues in a calm, contained voice. Bugsy crosses
his arms across his chest and sulks.

LUCIANO
At least Masseria plays by the rules.
Maranzano thinks he's God, and the
rules don't apply.

LANSKY
Without us, Masseria don't stand a
chance, and he knows it.

FRANK
I'm sorry, but I sleep better when I
know I'm with the winning side.

LANSKY
We're gonna be the winning side.
It's like Rothstein said about that
guy in Austria. We're gonna use
Maranzano and Masseria. Let 'em knock
each other bloody. And then, when
everybody's screamin' for peace, we
step in to make it. What they're
fight in' over, everybody will beg
us to take.

FRANK
I thought we just wanted to be left
alone to run our business.

LUCIANO
It's past that. We take over the
whole show, or we're all dead.

Bugsy perks up.

SIEGEL
So we're gonna knock 'em both off?

LUCIANO
If it comes to that. Yeah.

Bugsy breaks into a broad grin.

SIEGEL
Well, shit. Why the fuck ya didn't
come right out and say so!

FADE TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S LIVING ROOM - EVENING

Charlie lays stretched out in his bathrobe. Unshaven. The
mess from earlier still scattered across the coffee table.
The telephone rings. Charlie hesitates before answering.

LUCIANO
Luciano.

GAY ORLOVA
(ON TELEPHONE)
I was calling yesterday.

LUCIANO
Something came up.

GAY ORLOVA
(ON TELEPHONE)
I needed to see you again.

LUCIANO
Same here.

GAY ORLOVA
(ON TELEPHONE)
You're sure?

Under his robe, Charlie adjusts his suddenly swelling member.

LUCIANO
Yeah.

CUT TO:

CLOSE - ON A DOOR

Charlie opens it from inside the apartment. Decked out in
his tuxedo. He pulls Gay inside. Kicks the door shut in our
faces.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie and Gay float on a cloud of post-coital bliss. She
lays back, gently stroking the nape of his neck. He rubs his
cheek on her belly, gazing longingly over the swell of her
breasts. He inhales deeply, his face suffused with dreamy
pleasure.

LUCIANO
Why do you bother with perfume when
you smell like this?

GAY ORLOVA
It's a mask.

LUCIANO
You got something to hide?

GAY ORLOVA
It's too late.

LUCIANO
Have you thought about this?

GAY ORLOVA
Why? You're the innocent one.

LUCIANO
Guess I'm too confused to think.

She lifts his face in her hands.

GAY ORLOVA
Don't worry, Charlie. I've never
hurt a man.

CUT TO:

INT: HALLWAY OF PENNSYLVANIA HOTEL - DAY

the elevator doors slide open, and Luciano and Costello step
out into the hallway, looking down the empty corridor to a
broken-nosed LUG who stands guard by a door.

DOWN THE HALLWAY

as the Lug swings the door open for them.

LUG
Hope ya come hungry.

JOE MASSERIA

sits in the center of the room, at a table covered with hors
d'oeuvres, meats and shellfish, antipasto, bowls of pastas,
cheeses, sauces, fruits, and pastries. Enough to feed a dozen
men. He looks up from a pork loin he holds in both hands.

MASSERIA
Excuse me bein' rude. Lookin' at
food always makes me hungry.

Laying the pork loin aside, Masseria rises to greet Charlie
and Frank, wiping his hands on his napkin before shaking
theirs.

MASSERIA
I'm glad ya come.

LUCIANO
What's with the banquet? This is
supposed to be a private meet.

MASSERIA
It's only us and Sonny. Hey, Sonny.
Come on out.

Sonny Catania enters by a side door and stands by a wall,
regarding Charlie with barely concealed contempt.

MASSERIA
You boys carryin' pieces?

LUCIANO
You tryin' ta tell me something? I
don't come to a meet with a weapon
unless it's with an enemy.

MASSERIA
See if these two are my friends.

Catania frisks them. Masseria grabs the pork loin and bites
in.

MASSERIA
So eat.

SOMETIME LATER

Frank and Charlie sit back in their chairs, the remnants of
their lunches before them. Across the table, Masseria has
managed to consume an incredibly large amount of food. He
shoves an entire pastry in his mouth, washing it down with
wine. He scratches his distended belly, and belches.

MASSERIA
You're a smart boy, Charlie, but
there's somethin' you ain't learned
yet. A man needs a family.

LUCIANO
I know. When the storm hits, it don't
pay to be caught outside.

MASSERIA
I got a place for you. In my family...
or in the cemetery.

LUCIANO
Never threaten me, Boss.

Masseria's only response is a cold stare.

LUCIANO
But yeah, I'll join up.

Beaming with pleasure, Masseria picks up another pastry.

LUCIANO
Under the right conditions.

Masseria's enthusiasm fades as he chews on the pastry.

LUCIANO
I'm number two. Above everybody but
you, including Catania here.

Catania bristles. After a moment's hesitation, Masseria nods.

LUCIANO
We get a fair piece of all the action,
and everything from me and my
associates goes into the pot.

Masseria nods again.

LUCIANO
Everything, that is, except not one
fuckin' drop of whiskey. That stays
with me and my friends.

A moment's dead silence. Masseria's expression widens in
fury, his eyes bulging from his head. The half-eaten dessert
EXPLODES from his mouth, followed by a ROAR of protest.

MASSERIA
YOU FUCKIN' WEASEL! YOU STUPID SHIT
EATIN' WEASEL!!

Masseria leaps up and smashes his wine goblet against the
wall. Madly, he grabs dishes and tosses them left and right.
Catania, frightened, backs away. Costello grips the arms of
his chair.

LUCIANO

regards the tantrum with amused detachment.

MASSERIA

picks up his chair, raising it over his head and bringing it
crashing down into the table, sending debris flying. He grabs
the table and flips it over, clearing his path to Charlie.

COSTELLO

edges backward in his chair, but Charlie doesn't flinch.

MASSERIA GRABS THE ARMS OF CHARLIE'S CHAIR

and leans into his face, BELLOWING like wild beast. Then, as
quickly as the storm began, it dies. He grips Charlie by the
shoulders.

MASSERIA
You skinny son of a bitch! You're
the only paisan in this whole fuckin'
town ain't afraid a Joe the Boss!

Masseria throws his arms around Charlie and busses his cheek.
Charlie looks over to Frankie and shrugs.

LUCIANO
I guess we got a deal.

CUT TO:

INT: A WOOD-PANELED CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

A dozen of Masseria's operatives sit around the table. Joe
Masseria at one end, Charlie at the other, with Tommy Reina
and Frank Costello at his side.

LUCIANO
I'll be spending most of my time
helpin' the Boss with the day to
day. Frank Costello will be in charge
of all the gambling, and my good
friend Sonny Catania will oversee
burglary and the other strong-arm
operations.

Charlie lays a friendly hand on the shoulder of Tommy Reina.

LUCIANO
We will maintain a special
relationship with Tommy Reina and
his boys in the Bronx. Treat them as
your brothers.

Charlie rises out of his seat and circles the table.

LUCIANO
We will maintain a respectful
relationship with the Profaci family
in Staten Island and with Maranzano's
outfit in Brooklyn. They don't fuck
with us, we don't fuck with them.

CATANIA
What about Lansky and Siegel?

LUCIANO
I got a liquor business with them,
and they've also got the toughest
enforcement operation in town, so I
expect you will treat them very
respectfully.

The guys all laugh.

MASSERIA
Charlie, Vito has an idea for a job.
I wanna hear what you think.

Masseria nudges Vito Noto, who sits to his left. Vito,
nineteen and unsure of himself, looks around to Charlie.

VITO NOTO
I know this girl works for Seventh
Avenue Fashions as a bookkeeper.

LUCIANO
And you're pokin' this sister so
sweet, she's gonna help you nab the
payroll?

Everybody laughs but Vito.

VITO NOTO
They got some old man who picks up
at the bank every Friday.

LUCIANO
I looked at the job last year. That
geezer ain't workin' alone.

VITO NOTO
I figured we could hit 'em on Thirty-
First Street.

LUCIANO
Traffic's crazy at that hour. How
you gonna get out of there?

Vito has no ready reply. Joe the Boss leaps in.

MASSERIA
This business is about taking risks.

LUCIANO
Calculated risks. But Boss, this one
don't calculate.

Charlie's contradiction of the Boss sends a wave of concern
through the room.

LUCIANO
If there's a war, we're not gonna
win it our troops in the slammer.

Masseria thinks a moment, then nods decisively in agreement.

MASSERIA
That's right. You bastards won't do
me no good in jail.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

CLOSE on Lansky as he sits on the sofa, fiddling nervously
with a glass of Scotch. Luciano regards him curiously.

LUCIANO
Come on, what's the problem?

Lansky shakes his head "no". Shrugs noncommittally.

LUCIANO
Meyer.

LANSKY
It's nothin'. I'm gettin' married.

LUCIANO
Married? To Anna?
(kidding)
You ain't got her in trouble?

LANSKY
No. We ain't even...

LUCIANO
Well, good. Woman like that you don't
have to keep an eye on.

LANSKY
Guess I'm not a single type guy.

LUCIANO
Whatta ya mean? It's great!

Charlie lifts his glass for a toast. As the glasses click,
Meyer's drink splashes over the rim and dribbles down the
side of the glass. Meyer wipes the glass with his hand, then,
finding nothing to wipe his hand on, drys it on his pant
leg.

LANSKY
We're going to Atlantic City for the
honeymoon.

LUCIANO
I'll talk to Nucky. Get you set up
like the fuckin' Prince of Wales.

LANSKY
I been thinkin'...

LUCIANO
Good. 'Cause every time you start
thinkin', we end up makin' money.

LANSKY
We need to put together a meet for
the whole country. We all got the
same problems. We could talk. Meet
the guys we don't know. Lift a few
with the guys we do.

LUCIANO
Like a party for all our friends.

LANSKY
Italians, Jews, Irish. One big party.
Course, some guys don't get along.

Charlie smiles.

LUCIANO
Like Don Maranzano.

LANSKY
And if we don't invite Maranzano, we
can't invite Masseria. Guys don't
wanna be choosin' sides.

LUCIANO
I'll handle the Boss.

LANSKY
So we end up with everybody but the
two Bosses, at our meet. We ain't
sayin' we're the leaders, but we're
leadin'.

LUCIANO
How soon can we pull this off?

LANSKY
I'm gettin' married in six weeks.
I'll already be in Atlantic City
which is probably the best place to
do it anyway.

Charlie shoots Meyer a judgmental look.

LUCIANO
Your honeymoon, Meyer?

LANSKY
Might as well put the time to use.

INT: A JEWISH TEMPLE - AFTERNOON

An utterly terrified Meyer Lansky stands under a chupa in
front of an Orthodox rabbi, next to his bride, Anna. Lansky
stamps his foot down on the glass, sealing the marriage.

CUT TO:

INT: ANNA'S FAMILY'S APARTMENT - EVENING

Gangsters mix uneasily with exemplars of middle-class Jewish
respectability. At the door, Anna's parents greet Joe
Masseria. As he moves on, Anna's Mother whispers to her
husband.

ANNA'S MOTHER
Who is Meyer to have such friends?

Anna's Mother nods to Masseria.

ANNA'S MOTHER
Look at his hands. A common butcher,
fat from too much meat.

Anna's Father shrugs.

ANNA'S FATHER
Mama. Meyer's a man of liberal
sensibilities.

FROM A CORNER OF THE LIVING ROOM

Gay stands with Charlie, eyeing Anna piteously.

GAY ORLOVA
You could have stopped him.

LUCIANO
Ya never tell a guy about a broad.

GAY ORLOVA
So you all make the same mistakes?

LUCIANO
Gives us something in common.

Gay plucks Charlie's champagne glass from his hand.

GAY ORLOVA
I wish I could disagree.

As Gay leaves in search of a refill, Charlie spots Masseria
chatting with Tommy Reina. Masseria breaks away from Reina
and marches over to Charlie.

MASSERIA
Tommy tells me that Capone's coming
in from Chicago.

LUCIANO
He's trying to make it.

MASSERIA
He'll think something's wrong I ain't
there.

LUCIANO
He'll know you were smart enough to
stay away, Boss.

MASSERIA
What the fuck does that mean?

LUCIANO
You know that if you come, we gotta
invite Maranzano.

MASSERIA
So fuck him. I don't care anymore.
Let him come.

LUCIANO
So he can talk to all the families
behind your back? Maybe have his own
meet at 3:00 AM under the goddamn
boardwalk? No. You're too smart for
a sucker play.

Charlie leans in to whisper a confidence.

LUCIANO
You're so big, you don't even have
to come to the meet. You have your
number two run it for you.

Masseria nods in affirmation.

MASSERIA
And that shitloader Maranzano don't
even get a fuckin' invite.

Charlie taps himself on the chest.

LUCIANO
Don't I make the Boss look good?

Masseria laughs and slaps Charlie across the back.

CUT TO:

EXT: THE BREAKERS HOTEL - ATLANTIC CITY - DAY

A long black limousine pulls up the circular drive.

IN THE LOBBY

WASP families, arrayed in Summer pastels, take tea under the
potted palms. Charlie, Gay, Meyer, and Anna, dressed in
darker, more conservative attire, approach the registration
desk. Meyer steps forward, straining to mimic the Anglo-Saxon
manner.

LANSKY
Mr. and Mrs. Michael Land. We're in
the Presidential Suite.

The Clerk betrays himself with a slight, condescending smile.

REGISTRATION CLERK
Of course, Mr. Land. If you could
sign in please. And you, sir?

Charlie catches the Clerk's attitude, but plays it cool.

LUCIANO
Mr. and Mrs. Charles Luther.

REGISTRATION CLERK
(slyly taunting)
You wouldn't be related to the Bryn
Mawr Luthers, now would you?

Charlie fixes the Clerk with a murderous stare.

REGISTRATION CLERK
I suppose not. They're quite fair.

OUTSIDE THE HOTEL

As Siegel exits the lobby, an over-chromed white Dusenberg
pulls up. Al Capone sticks his head out the back window.

AL CAPONE
I ain't stayin' in a hotel with no
fuckin' kike!

Capone steps out of the car, decked out in a flamboyant style.
Bugsy gestures for Capone to cool it.

AL CAPONE
Wassa matter? Some Ziegfeld shiksa
you're bangin' convert ya?

SIEGEL
Didn't Nucky tell you about the deal
with the hotel?

AL CAPONE
Yeah. Yeah. Got me a new name, and I
wore my funeral suit so they'll think
I'm a fuckin' Senator.

INSIDE THE LOBBY

Capone struts up to the front desk, trailed by enough luggage
to sink Cleopatra's barge. Impatient, Capone bangs on the
bell. The Clerk turns around to face the counter, his eyes
widening in disbelief at the vulgarity of Capone's attire.
He leans over the counter to take in the whole view. Capone
beams.

AL CAPONE
Had it custom made.

REGISTRATION CLERK
So comforting to know there's only
one.

Capone extends a hand across the counter.

AL CAPONE
Mista Albert Caper.

The Clerk reluctantly shakes his hand.

REGISTRATION CLERK
Excuse me, Mr. Caper.

The Clerk disappears, then reappears trailing the Manager.

MANAGER
There seems to be some confusion
about your registration. I believe I
can find you a place at the
Ambassador. Many persons of the Jewish
faith find it quite...

AL CAPONE
I ain't no fuckin' kike!

MANAGER
I'm sorry, sir. Our clientele is
restricted to White Anglo-Saxons.

AL CAPONE
And I ain't no nigger either!

MANAGER
Sir, we do not use such names at our
hotel.

Capone lifts the manager's tie onto the counter and fingers
it menacingly.

AL CAPONE
I call 'em niggers and kikes, but I
let 'em into my fuckin' hotel.

The Desk Clerk signals for the House Detective, who hurries
across the lobby.

MANAGER
You own a hotel, sir?

AL CAPONE
The Bismark in Chicago. You familiar?

Capone pulls a cute little pistol out of his jacket and uses
the manager's tie to shine the barrel.

MANAGER
A fine establishment, Mr. Caper.

Capone YANKS the tie, pulling the manager closer.

AL CAPONE
And the name ain't Caper.

The House Detective lays a hand on Capone's shoulder.

HOUSE DETECTIVE
Look, buddy. What's the big idea?

Releasing the Manager's tie, Capone turns around.

HOUSE DETECTIVE
Mister Capone! Excuse me.

Behind them, the Manager falls in a dead faint.

CUT TO:

EXT: THE BOARDWALK - MORNING

A dozen canopied roller-chairs, each with two passengers
pushed by a Negro attendant, move along the Boardwalk.

AT THE END OF THE BOARDWALK

the dark-suited gangsters alight from the roller-chairs,
remove their shoes and socks, roll up their pants, and walk
to the water's edge to discuss their business in complete
privacy.

BUGSY SIEGEL AND MOE DALITZ

walk as the surf washes over their feet.

SIEGEL
We get together, we can tell those
greedy Scotsmen what we're gonna pay
for their whiskey.

MOE DALITZ
Makes sense. But who's the Boss?

SIEGEL
There ain't no Boss.

FRANK COSTELLO

and the gentle giant, ALBERT SCALISE, enter the frame as
Siegel and Dalitz exit.

ALBERT SCALISE
But I don't understand. Is this a
Sicilian operation? A Calabrian
operation? A Jew operation?

FRANK
It's an American operation. Everybody
gets a vote.

ALBERT SCALISE
But who's the Boss?

Costello shakes his head in frustration.

FRANK
There ain't no Boss.

Scalise looks skeptically to Costello.

ALBERT SCALISE
Come on, Frankie. You can tell me.
Who's the Boss?

AS COSTELLO AND SCALISE EXIT THE FRAME

Meyer Lansky and BOO-BOO HOFF enter.

LANSKY
We have a commission. If there's a
dispute over territory, the commission
decides.

BOO-BOO HOFF
Tell me something, Meyer. How can
you get up at dawn to walk on the
beach if you're on your honeymoon?

LANSKY
The commission don't decide how I
spend my honeymoon.

BOO-BOO HOFF
Hey, I ignore my wife too. But on
our honeymoon I paid attention.

LANSKY
Boo-Boo.

BOO-BOO HOFF
Not another word.

CHARLIE ENTERS THE FRAME

his arm around the shoulder of Al Capone.

AL CAPONE
What you're sayin' makes a lotta
sense. Ya know, if I keep on killin'
people like I have, I won't have no
more friends left!

LUCIANO
You've got the public upset, Al.

AL CAPONE
But you know I never killed nobody
that didn't deserve it.

LUCIANO
When the people get so upset, our
politician friends gotta listen.

AL CAPONE
What are ya tellin' me, Charlie?

Charlie stops and grips Capone by both shoulders.

LUCIANO
We're asking you to go to prison.

AL CAPONE
But I've never served a day.

LUCIANO
If it wasn't important for everybody,
we wouldn't ask. We got friends in
Philly. They can send you up for a
couple months on a weapons charge.

AL CAPONE
Awwh, Charlie.

LUCIANO
Minimum security. You'll have
everything but broads.

Not wanting to face up to this, Capone avoids Charlie's gaze.

LUCIANO
Al, you owe me one.

Capone kicks the sand.

AL CAPONE
Shit!

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S OFFICE - DAY

CLOSE - On the sinister face of "Mad Dog" Coll, free lance
killer for hire, as he stares directly into the camera. A
chilling smile plays tentatively on his mouth, as though he
can't decide whether to charm or intimidate.

MAD DOG COLL
You're forgetin'. I don't work for
the Boss...' less he's got a couple
grand and somebody ta be rid of.

From behind his desk, Charlie regards him with cold contempt.

LUCIANO
Civilian gets blown away, cops come
to me for answers.

MAD DOG COLL
You own the motherfuckin' police!

LUCIANO
There's rules. And number one is no
contract jobs in my territory.

Coll leans toward Charlie, letting the full force of his
psychotic personality cast it's pall.

MAD DOG COLL
If I played by the rules, I'd be
sellin' fuckin' hats.

IN THE HALLWAY

Coll enters the elevator, nodding to the Operator.

MAD DOG COLL
First floor.

As the Operator pulls the door shut, a huge hand stops it.
Two broken-nosed THUGS climb on board, crowding Coll back
into a corner. The First Thug moves nose to nose with Coll.

FIRST THUG
Basement.

IN CHARLIE'S OFFICE

Vito sticks his head through the door.

VITO NOTO
Boss wants you right away.

CUT TO:

INT: MASSERIA'S LIMOUSINE - DAY

Charlie sits in the back with Masseria, who's clearly in a
foul mood. Vito drives, anxiously watching the Boss in the
mirror.

LUCIANO
Where we headed?

MASSERIA
Wassa matter, Mr. Big Shot. Don't
have time for my business no more?

LUCIANO
Boss, I got all the time you need.

MASSERIA
I know about you.

Ignoring the taunt, Luciano turns and looks out the window.

MASSERIA
And what went on your little party
in Atlantic City. I got ears.

LUCIANO
That little party's gonna make you a
lotta money.

MASSERIA
MONEY DON'T MEAN SHIT!

LUCIANO
Didn't know you felt that way.

Masseria hauls off and backhands Charlie across the face.

MASSERIA
Don't you smart talk me!

Charlie stares at Masseria, stone-faced. Wanting to kill
this bastard, but the time ain't right.

OUTSIDE THE LIMOUSINE

as it pulls up past a car parked halfway up the sidewalk.
Next to it stands one of Masseria's Henchmen. It's a narrow
street in the garment district, little more than a alleyway
between two broad avenues. Runners push racks of clothes.
Trucks making deliveries clog the passage of traffic.

BACK IN THE LIMO

Masseria slaps a pistol into Charlie's palm.

MASSERIA
You and Vito are gonna pull that
payroll job. Right now.

LUCIANO
You gotta plan these things.

MASSERIA
And I got it all planned.

In the front seat, Vito nods for Charlie to go along. The
pistol lays in Charlie's lap, aimed at Masseria. Charlie's
finger strokes the trigger. Masseria notices and baits him
with the unnerving calm of the truly mad.

MASSERIA
Go ahead, Charlie. We can always
fight this out in Hell.

Charlie lifts the pistol off his lap and trains it on the
Boss.

MASSERIA
You're wasting my time, Charlie.

Battling his every instinct, Charlie lowers the pistol and
slips it into his jacket.

MASSERIA
You'll never be the Boss. You're too
in love with livin'.

CHARLIE AND VITO CLIMB OUT OF THE LIMO

and the Henchman climbs behind the wheel.

HENCHMAN
The motor's runnin'.

They watch as the limo maneuvers through the obstacle course
of traffic. They turn and look toward the bank building that
sits at the end of the alleyway on Seventh Avenue. As they
pass the getaway car, Charlie slows, fighting the urge to
flee.

CUT TO:

EXT: THE FORT LEE HIGHLANDS - DAY

In a park, a car pulls to the side of the road. The two Thugs
climb out, open the trunk, haul out the body of Mad Dog Coll,
and dump it down a hillside.

THE BODY

beaten and bloody, rolls to a stop at the bottom of the hill.
Coll's eyes flicker open, his mouth trembling in pain as
tears streak down his face. You could almost feel sorry for
the guy.

CUT TO:

EXT: THE ALLEYWAY - LATE AFTERNOON

As Charlie and Vito move down the alley, a clap of THUNDER
unleashes a Summer downpour. Pedestrians run for cover.

THIN OLD MAN

carrying a brown leather satchel, scurries out of the bank.
He hoists the satchel over his head as protection from the
rain.

VITO HEADS DOWN THE SIDEWALK

toward the PAYROLL MESSENGER. Charlie follows on the opposite
sidewalk, scanning the alley for potential problems.

AS THE PAYROLL MESSENGER ENTERS THE ALLEY

a YOUNG MAN pushing a rack of garments through the rain,
falls in behind him.

VITO SLOWS AS HE SPOTS A POLICEMAN ON HORSEBACK

on Seventh Avenue. The cop looks up the alley, then rides
on.

AT THE SERVICE ENTRANCE TO SEVENTH AVENUE FASHIONS

A WORKMAN finishes loading a sidewalk elevator, and yells
below for a co-worker to bring it down.

AS THE PAYROLL MESSENGER

nears Seventh Avenue Fashions, Vito hurries to catch him.

ACROSS THE STREET

Feeling for his gun, Charlie heads across the alley toward
Vito. A HORN BLARES. He jumps back and a long truck rolls
slowly past, cutting off his path.

VITO TACKLES THE PAYROLL MESSENGER

sending the satchel skidding across the wet sidewalk and
down the shaft of the sidewalk elevator. The Young Man pushing
the garment rack pulls a pistol from his coat.

VITO SCRAMBLES TO HIS FEET

and races to the elevator as the cover CLOSES. He heaves it
back open. The Workman stands in the receding elevator,
satchel at his feet, looking up into the barrel of Vito's
gun. The Workman squats and grabs the satchel.

AS THE TRUCK FINALLY PASSES

Charlie spots the Young Man with his gun out, trying to
maneuver the rack out of his path. Desperate, he pushes the
clothes aside, and steps halfway through the rack, gun drawn.

ABOVE THE ELEVATOR

as the terrified Workman tosses the satchel up. As Vito grabs
it, a SHOT knocks him to the sidewalk.

ON THE YOUNG MAN LEANING THROUGH THE RACK

as he takes dead aim for a second shot at Vito.

CHARLIE GARBS THE RACK AND JERKS IT DOWN INTO THE STREET

pulling the gunman along with it. Charlie races to Vito and
pulls him to his feet. Blood seeps through a hole in his
chest. Charlie grabs the satchel from his arms.

THE MOUNTED POLICEMAN

Appears at Seventh Avenue and charges up the alley on
horseback, as Charlie drags Vito up the sidewalk. Charlie
pulls out his pistol and fires at the horse.

ON THE POLICEMAN

as he and his horse tumble to the pavement.

CHARLIE PUSHES VITO INTO THE BACK SEAT OF THE CAR

tosses the satchel into the front, and climbs behind the
wheel. The car spins off the wet sidewalk, crashing to the
street.

BEHIND THE CAR

the Dismounted Policeman fires, shattering the rear window.

INSIDE THE CAR

As it slows, its path blocked by the long truck that stopped
Charlie as he tried to cross the street. Charlie JERKS the
steering wheel, sending the car up onto the sidewalk and
past the truck.

AN HASIDIC JEW CARRYING A PACKAGE

backs out of a doorway into the path of the oncoming car.

CHARLIE SLAMS ON THE BRAKES

but the car slides on the wet pavement, slamming into the
man with a sickening thud, and sending him flying over the
hood, up the windshield, and across the roof of the car.

CHARLIE BEATS ON THE STEERING WHEEL

in frustration, as the car pulls out onto Eighth Avenue. The
rain cutting the smear of blood on the windshield. Charlie
looks back at Vito, sprawled in the back seat, dead.

CONSUMED WITH RAGE

Charlie grabs the satchel and dumps the money out the window.

ON THE STREET

as a cloud of dollars dance on the urban canyon breeze.

CUT TO:

EXT: CEMETERY - DAY

Charlie stands in a small crowd by an open grave, as a Priest
sprinkles holy water onto a coffin. Tommy Reina, and some of
Masseria's men, are there, but there's no sign of the Boss.

LUCIANO

Whispers condolences to Vito's weeping mother, presses an
envelope into her hands, then moves toward the line of limos.

LANSKY, SIEGEL, AND COSTELLO

wait in the limousine as Charlie climbs in.

LUCIANO
Bastard didn't even show.

FRANK
He's hidin'. Word's out Tommy Reina's
goin' over ta Maranzano.

LUCIANO
Get word to Maranzano. I want a meet.
Alone. On neutral turf.

Lansky shoots Charlie a skeptical look.

LUCIANO
After all this time I'd think you'd
know me better, Meyer.

LANSKY
It's not myself I'm worried about.

LUCIANO
I'll do fine.

SIEGEL
Maranzano wants you dead.

LUCIANO
Yeah. But he needs me alive.

CUT TO:

INT: ARNOLD ROTHSTEIN'S APARTMENT - DAY

A massive living room, elaborately furnished in expensive
antiques. Charlie stands by a twelve foot high window, looking
out over the trees along Fifth Avenue to Central Park beyond.
Rothstein, enthroned in a wing chair, swirls wine in his
glass and sips, savoring the taste of his wealth.

ROTHSTEIN
If it's a blessing you need I'd
suggest the ablutions of the Holy
Mother Church.

Luciano turns away from the window. Impatient.

LUCIANO
Who first? And when?

Rothstein explodes.

ROTHSTEIN
TACTICS! Always tactics!

Recovering his composure, Rothstein continues.

ROTHSTEIN
Strategy.

LUCIANO
Talk English. Okay? I did lousy at
school.

ROTHSTEIN
The Big Picture.

LUCIANO
That's just what I'm sick of.
Everybody lookin' ta knock somebody
off! Greedy for what you got. A bunch
of fuckin' hogs at the trough.

ROTHSTEIN
So change it.

This strikes Charlie like a prophecy from Delphi.

ROTHSTEIN
Bring order out of chaos. If you
lead... they'll follow.

LUCIANO
And what do you want out of this?

ROTHSTEIN
A peaceful and prosperous retirement.

CUT TO:

EXT: STATEN ISLAND FERRY - NIGHT

Charlie leans over the railing, staring down at the garbage
being pulled in the wake of the ferry.

CUT TO:

EXT: STATEN ISLAND SHIPPING PIER - NIGHT

Charlie climbs out of a cab at the foot of a steel pier. In
the distance the Staten Island Ferry returns to Manhattan.
As the cab pulls away, Maranzano appears from behind a
shipping crate.

MARANZANO
It's been too long, my bambino.

The Don embraces his Prodigal Son.

INSIDE A DARK, EMPTY WAREHOUSE

Charlie and the Don sit on a couple of packing crates.
Maranzano reaches over and rubs Charlie's cheek
affectionately.

MARANZANO
Tell me, my son. Why did you go with
Giuseppe? He's not our kind.

LUCIANO
I found that out.

MARANZANO
We learn from life.

LUCIANO
That's why I'm here.

MARANZANO
Coming with me will be a delicate
matter. We will work it out. But
Charlie...

Maranzano grasps Charlie's hands.

MARANZANO
Conditions have changed. Some people
have become too powerful.

LUCIANO
I'll take care of the Boss.

His hands tighten around Charlie's.

MARANZANO
Not Masseria. The Jews.

Charlie pulls back, but Maranzano holds firm to his hands.

MARANZANO
If you give him the chance, Lansky
will betray you like Judas.

LUCIANO
I don't fuck my partners.

MARANZANO
No worry, Charlie. I will kill them
for you. No one will know.

Charlie pulls himself free from Maranzano's grasp.

MARANZANO
At first, it will hurt you. But you
will come to understand and we will
be strong together.

LUCIANO
You're fuckin' crazy. You're all
fuckin' crazy!

CLOSE - on Charlie's face as a blackjack cracks across the
crown of his skull, and his eyes roll back in his head.

CUT TO BLACK:

Muffled voices over the sound of wood scrapping on concrete,
the screeching of metal on metal, and a hard splash of water.

CUT TO:

CHARLIE'S BATTERED FACE

Dripping wet. His eyes fluter open. Charlie hangs by his
wrists from a beam, his toes barely touching the ground.
Half a dozen men, their faces covered with bandanas, surround
him. Maranzano stands to one side as Charlie stirs from his
stupor. Looking toward Maranzano, Charlie shakes his head
"no".

MARANZANO NODS

and the men converge on Charlie. Working him over with belts,
clubs, and fists. Not a sound escapes from between Charlie's
clenched teeth.

MARANZANO
Enough!

One of the men lights up a cigarette, slipping it under his
bandana to smoke.

MARANZANO
One word, and all this will end.

Charlie stares at Maranzano, then croaks his response.

LUCIANO
No.

Maranzano shakes his head and nods to the man smoking

MARANZANO
Always the wrong word, Charlie.

CLOSE ON CHARLIE

as the cigarette burns into his chest, his body shaking in
pain as two of the men hold him. Another man lights up, his
face glowing red in the light of the match. Then the men
back away as Maranzano moves in closer to the barely conscious
Luciano.

MARANZANO
They will still die, even if you die
first. And all for nothing.

Charlie tries to form his mouth into words. His breath coming
in desperate gasps. Maranzano caresses Charlie's bloated
face.

MARANZANO
Why must you hurt me like this?

CHARLIE JERKS HIS KNEE UP INTO MARANZANO'S GROIN

Maranzano doubles over and falls to the ground, HOWLING. As
the men move in on Charlie, Maranzano staggers back to his
feet. He grabs a knife from one of the men and slashes
Charlie's face. One of the men pulls out a gun, leveling it
at Charlie's head. Maranzano knocks the man away.

MARANZANO
NO! Let him live to see what the
Jews have cost him.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT: A DESERTED ROAD - DAWN

Charlie crawls on all fours through the gravel at the side
of the road. A police car whizzes by, but WE HEAR it slow
down and pull over. As the car doors open, then slam shut,
Charlie looks up, only now aware of the cops. He collapses
into the gravel.

CUT TO:

INT: HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

Charlie lays in bed, casts on both arms and one of his legs.
The right side of his face sags where his facial muscles
were cut, giving him a particularly sinister look. Gay tries
to help him turn over on his side.

GAY ORLOVA
Pull yourself toward me.

Grimacing at the pain, Charlie grabs the edge of the bed and
pulls himself over on his right side, leaving his bare
backside facing the door. Gay uses a washcloth to wipe sweat
from his forehead. Charlie grabs it away from her and uses
it to hide the tears of pain welling in his eyes.

GAY ORLOVA
I booked passage to London.

LUCIANO
London?

GAY ORLOVA
My friends have a country house we
can use for a while.

Angry, Charlie throws the damp washcoth in her face.

LUCIANO
What the hell is wrong with you!

Gay struggles to hold back her tears.

LUCIANO
If I look weak now, it's over.

GAY ORLOVA
I'm very sorry... I didn't...

LUCIANO
Oh, God. Don't start actin' like a
fuckin' wife on me.

BUGSY SIEGEL STICKS HIS HEAD IN THE DOOR

only to be greeted by Charlie's bare ass.

SIEGEL
You're lookin' better already.

Charlie cuts off the laughter when he shouts over his
shoulder.

LUCIANO
Where's the morphine!

Costello and Lansky follow Siegel into the room.

LANSKY
You're getting' 10 cc's

LUCIANO
I told you twenty!

Paying him no mind, Lansky pulls a vial and a hypodermic out
of his pocket. Filling the syringe, he leans over Charlie's
ass.

FRANK
Relax, Charlie.

Charlie grasps Gay's hand, then reacts to the needle.

LUCIANO
You bastards, I said twenty!

LANSKY
It'll just be a few minutes.

LUCIANO
I NEED THE TWENTY!

But Charlie realizes that his protests are to no avail.

LUCIANO
Fuck you all.

Losing her composure, Gay runs from the room. Charlie, calls
after her.

LUCIANO
Not you!

But she's gone. Costello pushes the door shut behind her.

SIEGEL
Everybody's talkin' about ya, Charlie.
First time anybody ever got took for
a ride and lived.

LUCIANO
(bitter)
Guess I'm just lucky.

SIEGEL
That's just what they're calling ya
pal. Lucky Luciano.

FRANK
Masseria's confused. He can't figure
whether you're workin' for Maranzano,
or gettin' ready to kill the bastard.
So he's spreadin' the word that you're
goin' after Profaci because it
happened on his turf. I figure
Masseria's gonna try to rub out
Profaci, and pin it on us. Then
Maranzano will have to kill ya.

LUCIANO
You got men on Profaci's place?

FRANK
We got our boys paintin' the house
next door. Around the clock. We're
gonna keep old man Profaci alive if
it takes twenty coats.

LANSKY
Tommy Reina's gone over to Maranzano,
but so far Masseria ain't lifted a
finger,

LUCIANO
The fat man's scared. Scared of us,
and scared without us. Same with
Maranzano. We gotta get their minds
back on each other. This fuckin'
peace is killin' us.

LANSKY
We can get the war started tomorrow,
but it won't be pretty.

LUCIANO
Who?

LANSKY
Tommy Reina.

SIEGEL
What you mean? Tommy ain't done
nothin'.

LANSKY
Maranzano will think Masseria ordered
the hit, and won't have no choice
but to start the war.

SIEGEL
Why's it gotta be Tommy!

LANSKY
Masseria won't have any choice but
to trust you. And as long as we keep
the Boss alive, Maranzano can't win
without you.

LUCIANO
Don't touch Tommy until Masseria
goes after Profaci.

Siegel explodes.

SIEGEL
JESUS CHRIST WILL YA LISTEN TO ME!

Now he has their attention.

SIEGEL
I'm a hard guy. I done more jobs
than alla you combined. And I never
said no. Not once. But dammit I don't
understand why the hell we gotta
kill our friends!

LUCIANO
Because the world ain't big enough
for the Dons. So we gotta choose
between our friends and ourselves.
It ain't the way I'd make the world,
but that's the way it is.

LANSKY
We're gonna change it, Bugs. Once we
get rid of the Dons, the Commission's
gonna rule. No more wars. No more
vendettas. No more Boss of All the
Bosses.

SIEGEL
Yeah. And no more Tommy Reina.

CUT TO:

EXT: STATEN ISLAND STREET - DAY

A row of substantial homes overlook New York Harbor. A crew
of painters work on one of the houses. A car pulls into the
driveway of the house next door. A middle-aged woman and her
teenage daughter climb out, with packages from a shopping
trip.

ON THE BALCONY OF THE FIRST HOUSE

A YOUNG PAINTER closely watches the two women as they move
toward their house.

INSIDE A BEDROOM OFF THE BALCONY

Frank Costello watches out a window, as he talks on the phone.

FRANK
I'm startin' ta think Profaci's losin'
it. Been here three weeks and he
ain't given us a look.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S APARTMENT - DAY

Charlie lays in bed, propped up on pillows, out of his casts.

LUCIANO
Masseria's tryin' ta find a way around
ya. But his patience won't hold out
much longer.

FRANK
(ON PHONE)
How's Bugsy doin'?

LUCIANO
Tommy Reina's hauntin' his dreams.
But he'll do his job.

Gay enters the bedroom carrying a hot water bottle. As she
slips it under Charlie's back, he pulls her down onto the
bed.

LUCIANO
Bye, Frank.

Gay tries to squirm away from Charlie, but he grabs her hand.

LUCIANO
A lot of shit came out of me in the
hospital. I'm sorry you got hit by
it.

GAY ORLOVA
(cool)
You must be feeling better, if you're
looking for sex again.

Charlie twists her arm, and Gay yelps in pain.

LUCIANO
I meant just what I said.

Charlie tosses her arm away from him in disgust. Gay softens.

GAY ORLOVA
You're not the only one who has to
be hard for the world.

Charlie and Gay stare at each other from across the bed.

GAY ORLOVA
That's why I understand you.

She moves close to Charlie, rubbing a hand across his chest.

GAY ORLOVA
Would it be painful for you?

LUCIANO
It always is.

CUT TO:

CLOSE - ON CHARLIE'S FACE

As he lays on top of Gay, clenching his teeth in pain as he
thrusts himself inside her again and again. As they near
their climax, Charlie desperately kisses Gay about the face.
He stifles a cry, but tears pour down his cheeks. No longer
able to hold back, Charlie buries his face in Gay's hair and
sobs.

CUT TO:

INT: PROFACI HOUSE - DAY

JOE PROFACI'S DAUGHTER preens in front of a mirror in a new
dress, the price tag still hanging from the front.

IN THE LIVING ROOM

JOE PROFACI sits with one leg thrown over the arm of his
easy chair, reading the newspaper. His daughter pulls the
paper aside and models her dress. Joe smiles his approval,
but gestures for her to come closer. As he tries to read the
price tag, she laughs and pulls away.

OUTSIDE THE HOUSE

A panel truck parks and a uniformed DELIVERYMAN jumps out
with package in hand and heads up the walk.

THE PAINTER ON THE BALCONY NEXT DOOR

watches the Deliveryman. Moves to the window and taps on it.
Inside the bedroom, Costello starts awake in the chair where
he's dozed off. He hurries to the window as the Deliveryman
disappears under the roof of the Profaci porch.

COSTELLO

hurtles out the front door and races toward the street.

AT PROFACI'S FRONT DOOR

His daughter opens the door for the Deliveryman. He hands
her a clipboard to sign.

AT THE TRUCK

Costello flings open the rear doors. The back is empty.

ON THE PORCH

The Deliveryman takes the clipboard and hands the Daughter
the package. He turns to see Costello, racing up the walk,
his pistol drawn. Costello shouts to the girl.

FRANK
Drop the package!

The Deliveryman looks for an escape route. The Profaci's
Daughter clutches the package like a life preserver.

COSTELLO DROPS TO ONE KNEE AND SHOOTS

The light fixture over the girl's head EXPLODES. She drops
the package and races inside, slamming the door as she goes.

INSIDE THE HOUSE

Profaci herds his Daughter and Wife down into the basement.

ON THE PORCH

The Deliveryman crawls toward the package laying exposed in
front of the door. As he grabs the package, another shot
explodes into the door.

COSTELLO KNEELS ON THE LAWN

waiting for the Deliveryman to reappear.

INSIDE THE HOUSE

Joe Profaci, a pistol raised next to his head, peers down
the hallway toward the front door.

ON THE FRONT PORCH

the Deliveryman leaps up, ready to heave the package at
Costello. Three shots tear into his chest. He drops the
package and falls across it.

THE FRONT PORCH EXPLODES IN A BALL OF FIRE

Costello ducks as a volley of flaming debris showers over
him. He looks up at the huge hole torn in the front of the
house. Joe Profaci emerges through the smoke, gun drawn.
Costello raises his weapon in response. Profaci, puzzled to
see him, lowers his gun.

JOE PROFACI
Frankie? Is that you? What the hell's
goin' on?

Costello shrugs.

FRANK
Deliveryman had the wrong address.

CUT TO:

INT: SIEGEL'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Bugsy sits at a kitchen table littered with shotgun shells.
He tips gunpowder from a tin onto a scales, then pours the
measure into an empty shell with a jeweler's precision. He
twists a cap onto the shell, and adds it to a pile. The wall
phone rings.

SIEGEL
Yeah... ya sure Profaci's okay?...
Tommy's havin' dinner with his Aunt
in Brooklyn like he does every Monday.

Siegel looks at his watch.

SIEGEL
Yeah. I got time.

CUT TO:

EXT: A BROOKLYN STREET - NIGHT

Siegel sits in a car on a street of neatly kept brownstones.

THE FRONT DOOR TO ONE OF THE BROWNSTONES

swings open. Tommy Reina gives his Aunt a kiss on the cheek.

AS REINA MOVES DOWN THE SIDEWALK

Bugsy steps from behind a tree. Reina pulls up short.

REINA
Jeez, Bugsy. Ya like ta scared the
crap outta me.

SIEGEL
Just wanted ta say hello.

As they shake hands, Siegel seems reluctant to let go.

SIEGEL
Know something Tommy? You're a mensch.

REINA
That a Jew compliment?

SIEGEL
Best we got.

REINA
Awww... deep down I'm a bastard, but
when ya got eight kids ya can't make
enemies.

SIEGEL
Guess so. Ya got a minute? I got
somethin' for ya.

CLOSE - ON THE TRUNK OF SIEGEL'S CAR

As it pops open, revealing a cache of weapons. Bugsy gestures
to the pile.

SIEGEL
Take any one ya like.

REINA
Kinda early for Christmas, Bugs.

SIEGEL
A Jew's gotta let his heart tell him
when ta give his presents.

A little uncertain, but not wanting to offend, Reina pulls
out a sawed-off shotgun with a gleaming silver barrel and a
perfectly waxed rosewood stock. He inspects it admiringly.

SIEGEL
Ya got a eye for a tool.

Siegel tilts the barrel toward his own temple.

SIEGEL
Blow a fella's brains clean out.

Reina laughs uneasily as Siegel pulls the gun from his head.

REINA
You're fuckin' crazy.

SIEGEL
But only on purpose, Tommy.

REINA
This is nice. I mean it.

Siegel taps his chest over his heart.

SIEGEL
From here, Paisan.

A shy smile flickers across Tommy's face.

REINA
See ya around.

Reina slips the shotgun under his coat, and turns to go.

SIEGEL
Oh, Tommy.

Reina turns around and stares up the barrel of a pistol Siegel
has leveled at him.

SIEGEL
It's a bad world.

The gun EXPLODES in Reina's face.

CUT TO BLACK:

AND WE HEAR

the BLAT! BLAT! BLAT! of machine gun fire shattering glass.
Tires squeal. Bystanders scream and stampede. A basso voice
howls, then gurgles as life drains out. A man struggles
against an onslaught of long knives, furniture crashing,
steel tearing flesh. A room explodes. Sirens wail. A dozen
police radios crackle with urgent calls. A hundred keening
widows screech their lamentations as a hundred shovels break
the earth. A Sicilian brass band bleats a funeral march.

CUT TO:

TWO WATCHFUL BODYGUARDS - DAY

posed like bookends on either side of the entrance to
Charlie's apartment building. Luciano emerges from the lobby
with Lansky, the guards falling in behind them as they move
down the street.

AT A CORNER NEWSSTAND

Charlie scoops up the New York Mirror. The tabloid headline
screams. "BLOOD FLOWS IN GANG WAR", over a photo of the bullet-
ridden remains of Albert Scalise slumped in a gutter.

LUCIANO
Ain't nuttin' looks worse than a
stiff laid up in the street.

A CADILLAC LIMOUSINE PULLS TO THE CURB

next to the newsstand. Four men climb out and keep a watchful
eye in all directions. A second limo pulls up behind it.
It's armour plated doors and bullet proof windows remain
closed. A third limo pulls up after the second. Sonny Catania
climbs out.

OUTSIDE THE THIRD LIMO

Charlie's Bodyguards lead a reluctant Catania back toward
the apartment building as Luciano and Lansky climb into the
limo.

LUCIANO
Sonny, you better hope you Boss needs
you more than he wants me dead.

CUT TO:

INT: STAKE-OUT APARTMENT - DAY

In the bedroom, bare save a mattress on the floor and a chair
by the window, a Young Tough fights to stay awake as he
watches the courtyard and the street beyond. A dog roams the
room.

IN THE BATHROOM - AN OLDER TOUGH

sits on the toilet, reading an Italian newspaper.

IN THE BEDROOM

the dog pauses by the mattress and lifts its leg. The Young
Tough leaps from his chair at the sound.

YOUNG TOUGH
(IN ITALIAN)
NO! Get away you dirty bastard!

The dog jumps away from the mattress, moving right, then
left, determined to avoid the blows.

CUT TO:

EXT: STREET IN FRONT OF APARTMENT - SAME

The three limousines pull up to the curb. The men from the
first car run to the second limo, forming a phalanx around
Masseria as he climbs out and heads into the courtyard.
Catania, Luciano, and Lansky follow behind.

CUT TO:

INT: STAKE-OUT APARTMENT - SAME

Hearing cars on the street, the Young Tough runs to the
window.

YOUNG TOUGH
(IN ITALIAN)
Giovanni! It's Masseria!

The Older Tough scrambles out of the bathroom, struggling
with his pants as he grabs for his gun. He reaches the window
just as Masseria disappears into the foyer across the
courtyard.

CUT TO:

INT: MASSERIA SAFE HOUSE APARTMENT - SAME

A dark, musty space. Barely furnished. Dirty brown roller
blinds pulled down over the windows, shutting out light and
prying eyes. Masseria spills over a stout leather armchair,
his men posed in the corners of the room like Nubian guards.
Luciano and Lansky sit opposite.

MASSERIA
Ya can do business with a guy a long
time and still have no idea what
gets his dick hard. Then, somethin'
happens, and he shows himself like
one of Minsky's broads. Then ya know
that fella.

LANSKY
The worms'll be feastin' on that fat
gut of yours before Charlie Luciano
shows his ass.

MASSERIA
That's just my problem.

LUCIANO
If I wanted ta kill ya, I woulda
done it long ago. It's not like you
ain't given me reason.

MASSERIA
I'm still the Boss of All the Bosses!
And you'll do what I say!

LUCIANO
So tell me when I ain't done it.

MASSERIA
How can I trust you when you look at
me like that?

LUCIANO
You got no fuckin' choice. You might
be able to stay alive, but you're
never gonna win the war from these
fuckin' rat holes.

MASSERIA
(pleading)
Tell me, Charlie. Please.

LUCIANO
Why should I go against you, Boss?
Nobody can handle this business like
you. Maranzano'll never know the
crap that you forget. He's got no
business bein' Boss. The idea makes
me wanna puke. You're the Boss, an
it's gonna stay that way.

Masseria relaxes in the bosom of flattery. A broad smile
lights up his ugly mug.

MASSERIA
So today, maybe I don't kill you Mr.
Lucky Luciano.

CUT TO:

INT: APARTMENT FOYER - DAY

Luciano, Lansky, and Masseria stand aside in the elevator,
allowing the Guards to move ahead into the foyer.

MASSERIA
Ain't had a decent meal in weeks.
This fuckin' war's gonna have me
skin and bones like you boys.

INT: STAKE-OUT APARTMENT - SAME

The windows overlooking the courtyard stand open, the winter
air gusting into the room. The two Toughs stand to either
side of the windows, hidden from view, shotguns at the ready.

IN THE COURTYARD - THE GUARDS

cluster by the entrance to the foyer. As the limousines appear
at the curb, one of them taps on the foyer door. Lansky steps
into the courtyard, and follows the guards to the street.
Charlie steps into the doorway, blinking against the harsh
midday light. He looks carefully up and down the courtyard,
then signals for Masseria.

AS CHARLIE STEPS ASIDE TO LET MASSERIA PASS

He spots the open windows on the third floor opposite, the
only ones open on a cold day. As Masseria steps through the
door, Charlie throws himself at the Boss, sending them both
tumbling backwards into the foyer. Shotgun BLASTS tear the
door apart, as Masseria shimmies backwards across the floor
of the foyer.

CHARLIE

edges up to the wall, breaks out a tiny window onto the court,
and shoots up at the third floor.

ONE OF THE GUARDS

Charges up the courtyard from the street, only to be knocked
over by a shotgun blast. The other Guards stop in their
tracks.

DISGUSTED - LANSKY

grabs a shotgun from one of the Guards. Runs down the street
to the corner and around toward the alley.

THE TWO TOUGHS

throw their weapons to the floor, sprint to the kitchen, and
on down the rear service staircase, followed closely by the
dog.

THEY DASH ALONG A NARROW PASSAGEWAY

that runs alongside the building, darting between garbage
cans, man's best friend still in hot pursuit.

AT THE END OF THE PASSAGEWAY

The Older Tough scales a tall chain link fence. As he throws
his leg over the top, Lansky jumps out from behind a wall
and blows the man's face clean off his skull. His body topples
backwards, landing at the feet of the Young Tough.

AS THE YOUNG TOUGH BACKS UP

Lansky shoves the barrel of the shotgun through the fence,
and blasts him in the chest. The dog yaps threateningly at
Meyer.

IN THE FOYER - MASSERIA

moves cautiously toward the door, where Charlie stands, as
the Guards outside shout confused instructions to one another.

MASSERIA
These fools would have me dead.
Anything, Charlie. Tell me what you
want.

Charlie grabs Masseria playfully by the back of his fat neck,
then kisses him Sicilian style, full on the lips.

LUCIANO
Trust me.

CUT TO:

EXT: THE BRONX ZOO - DAY

A cold, overcast day. The place nearly deserted. Luciano,
Lansky, Siegel, and Costello wait in front of the lions'
cages.

MARANZANO AND JOE PROFACI GIVE A FRIENDLY WAVE

as they approach down a walkway, to all appearances a pair
of harmless retirees at their leisure. The great cats climb
to their feet and roar, as though hailing the King.

MARANZANO
Even the beasts of the earth know
who rightfully reigns.

LUCIANO
They do what I tell 'em.

MARANZANO
Salvatore. Always holding himself
above.

LUCIANO
You and me both. Sal-va-to-re.

Maranzano stiffens as Charlie spits out his name like a curse.

MARANZANO
We must be friends, Charlie.

LUCIANO
Keep my terms and I won't be your
enemy.

MARANZANO
The terms will be mine.

LUCIANO
The guy doin' the job names the price.
If you don't like it, you can kill
Masseria yourself.

MARANZANO
I will be the Boss of All Bosses.

LUCIANO
What makes you think I give a damn
about that Sicilian crap?

He looks around to his partners,

LUCIANO
Tell it to the Calabrian. Tell it to
the Jews.

MARANZANO
You disrespect our tradition.

LUCIANO
Boss, we got our own tradition. We
call it treatin' your friends right,
and not bein' a pig for every scrap
of glory.

JOE PROFACI
Charlie!

LUCIANO
I do this for you, and you'll leave
me and my guys alone. Be the fuckin'
Boss of all the other Bosses, but we
are gonna be our own Bosses.

Maranzano thinks for a moment, then extends his hand to shake.

MARANZANO
I will not interfere with you.

As Charlie takes his hand, Maranzano pulls him into a bear
hug. Bringing his face next to Charlie's disfigured cheek.

MARANZANO
I am sorry for what I had to do.

Luciano pulls out of the embrace, struggling to be civil.

LUCIANO
Forget it. That's past.

MARANZANO
No matter what you say to me
Salvatore, you are my bambino.

CUT TO:

INT: MASSERIA'S OFFICE - DAY

Dark and forbidding. Blood red velvet drapes over the windows.
Masseria sits behind a huge oak desk. Luciano leans across
the desk, speaking in a low, urgent whisper.

LUCIANO
Our enemies have infiltrated our
family. Do you think it was an
accident you almost died? We have to
take action. Now.

Masseria looks uneasily to the two Guards standing by the
door. He whispers to Charlie.

MASSERIA
What are ya thinkin'?

LUCIANO
Joe Profaci. Carlo Gambino. Vinnie
Mangano. Joe Bananas. They all gotta
die.

MASSERIA
You can't fuck with them. They're
heads of families!

LUCIANO
They're friends of our enemy.

MASSERIA
Take one of 'em out, and they'll all
line up against us.

LUCIANO
Not if they all die at once.

This sets Masseria back in his chair.

LUCIANO
I call a meet. Everybody in town but
you and Maranzano. A peace conference
to find an end to the war. They know
me. They trust me.

Masseria shakes his head in awe at the audacity of the plan.

LUCIANO
Every successor will owe his loyalty
to us. Together we take out Maranzano,
and each family gets a piece of his
operation.

MASSERIA
A mother-fuckin' peace conference.

Masseria HOWLS with laughter. Charlie nods toward the Guards.

LUCIANO
We gotta talk in private. I got a
friend in Coney Island who's gonna
open his restaurant just for us.

MASSERIA
But that's an hour's drive.

LUCIANO
Lobster Fra Diavolo. Spaghetti with
red clam sauce. Antipasto. And pastry
that'll make you wanna go home and
slap your sweet mama.

The Boss fairly drools at the prospect.

CUT TO:

EXT: NUOVA VILLA TAMARO - DAY

A small clapboard structure backing onto the deserted Coney
Island beach. Charlie's is the only car parked in front.

INT: NUOVA VILLA TAMARO - SAME

A comfortable, family place. Empty except for Masseria and
Luciano at a corner table. The owner, GERARDO, brings coffee,
while Masseria ponders which of two desserts to attack first.

LUCIANO
Ya did good. I ain't seen the Boss
so happy in weeks.

MASSERIA
Look at this boy. He hardly eats.
Like that fella killed Caesar.

GERARDO
Cassius?

MASSERIA
Yeah. Mean and hungry lookin'.

LUCIANO
When ya got all that blood workin'
in your belly, it ain't upstairs
where it needs to be.

MASSERIA
The kid just called me stupid.

LUCIANO
Not stupid. Fat.

MASSERIA
Shit. When I was comin' up, bein'
fat meant ya had somethin' ta eat.
Guy looked like you, people felt
sorry for 'em. Right, Gerardo?

Gerardo nods in agreement.

GERARDO
Okay I leave you alone?. I want to
take a walk on the beach.

Charlie looks at his watch.

LUCIANO
Sure. But ya got a deck a cards? I
wanna play some Klob.

MASSERIA
Come on, Charlie. We got business.

LUCIANO
Couple hands. No harm in it.

A WHILE LATER

The table is cleared, except for the coffee and Masseria's
remaining desert. Joe beams as he lays down his hand.

MASSERIA
So, smarty-pants, ya can't even beat
an ignorant old man.

Charlie tosses in his hand. Checks his watch again.

LUCIANO
An ignorant, old, fat man. But I'll
get ya next hand, after I take a
leak.

As Charlie gets up, Masseria pushes his chair back.

MASSERIA
Enough cards.

Charlie pulls out a pistol and trains it on the Boss.

LUCIANO
One move pardner, and you're a dead
man.

MASSERIA
You can't kill me. You gave your
word, Charlie.

LUCIANO
So? I'll get Bugs ta do it.

Masseria laughs as Charlie disappears into the men's room.

IN THE MEN'S ROOM

Charlie moves to a window, and pulls it open.

DOWN THE STREET FROM THE RESTAURANT

Siegel, Costello, and Lansky wait in a car. As the men's
room window slides open, Lansky picks up his pistol.

LANSKY
Let's go.

IN THE MEN'S ROOM

Charlie stands at a urinal, smoking as he relieves himself.

IN THE DINING ROOM

Masseria lifts a pastry to his lips. BANG! The doors fly
open. Siegel, Costello, and Lansky march toward Masseria,
guns drawn.

MASSERIA LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY

his belly jiggling under his shirt. He shouts to Charlie.

MASSERIA
Hurry up, Charlie. You're missin'
the show.

Siegel, Costello, and Lansky open fire.

MASSERIA JUMPS UP

struggling to escape from the chair he's wedged himself into.
He stumbles backwards, the chair still stuck to his fat ass,
as a dozen bullets rip into his belly. He falls back, still
seated in the chair, his open mouth filled with unchewed
pastry. Dead.

IN THE MEN'S ROOM

Charlie hoists his zipper, then washes his hands.

IN THE DINING ROOM

Charlie walks to the table, barely glancing at Masseria's
bloody remains. Tossing down the last of his coffee, he walks
to the pay phone and drops a dime.

LUCIANO
Operator. I need the police.

CUT TO:

EXT: NUOVA VILLA TAMARO - NIGHT

A NYPD Captain runs interference for Charlie as he emerges
into a crush of reporters and the pop of a hundred flashbulbs.

CAPTAIN
Mr. Luciano saw nothing. He was in
the men's room at the time of the
shooting, washing his hands.

LUCIANO
That's a lie!

The Captain tries to hurry Charlie through the crowd.

LUCIANO
You fellas want the true facts?

The reporters yell, "Yeah!", "Let him talk!".

LUCIANO
I wasn't washin' my hands. I was
takin' a piss!

The reporters roar with laughter.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

In the shadows, legs fly, chests heave, hips grind, and voice
pant as Charlie and Gay celebrate his triumph over Masseria
with nearly comic abandon.

FADE TO:

INT: GRAND CONCOURSE HALL - NIGHT

A riot of religious images. Crosses. Statues of the Virgin.
Pictures of obscure Italian saints. And amidst this orgy of
piety, three hundred formally dressed mobsters, gathered
together from across America, seated in regimented rows.

ON THE DAIS

In a huge, thronelike chair, sits Don Maranzano. A solid
gold cross befitting a Cardinal, hangs form his neck. On
either side are the heads of the five families. Charlie sits
at Maranzano's right hand, the designated crown prince.

MARANZANO RISES FROM HIS THRONE

and stretches out his arms in benediction.

MARANZANO
Honorable men. I welcome you today
as your Supreme Ruler. The Boss of
All Bosses. Capo di Tutti Capi!

Maranzano basks in the waves of applause as the mobsters
stand and cheer. The rest of the dais rises, until only
Charlie remains seated. After a moment, he to rises and
applauds.

MARANZANO
In order to give you my complete and
objective leadership, I have turned
over all my personal business
interests to the other members of my
family.

The audience responds with enthusiastic applause.

MARANZANO
In return for my sacrifice, I will
receive a fair and proportionate
share of the proceeds of all the
families across the country.

Maranzano pauses, and is rewarded with a grudging response.

MARANZANO
Each of you will be part of one of
the five families, and the Capo for
each family will report personally
to me.

The men on the dais stand as he introduces them.

MARANZANO
Please pay your respects to our noble
leaders. Mr. Thomas Gagliano. Mr.
Joseph Bonnano. Mr. Joseph Profaci.
Mr. Vincent Mangano.

Maranzano turns toward Charlie.

MARANZANO
And Mr. Salvatore Luciano, who will
supervise the entire operation under
my direction.

The audience SHOUTS it's approval. Maranzano smiles uneasily
as Charlie acknowledges the reception.

MARANZANO
I ask you now to come forward, to
show our unalterable unity as
brothers, dedicated only to the
highest of human values.

THE MOBSTERS LINE UP DOWN THE CENTER AISLE

Al Capone climbs the steps to the dais, hands a cash-stuffed
envelope to the factotum at Maranzano's side, falls to his
knees, and kisses the Don's jewel-encrusted ring.

IN THE BACK OF THE HALL

Frank Costello huddles with Boo Boo Hoff.

AS THE LAST MOBSTER RISES

from in front of Maranzano, The Don turns to the men behind
him on the dais. Each moves in turn to Maranzano, hands over
his envelope to the factotum, and kneels to kiss the ring.

COSTELLO APPROACHES CHARLIE ON THE DAIS

handing him a fat envelope for the Don. Luciano looks inside
at the fistful of thousand dollar bills.

FRANK
Mad Dog Coll's in town on a job.

LUCIANO
Who hired the bastard?

FRANK
Maranzano. Ta ice you.

CHARLIE HOLDS HIS GROUND FOR A MOMENT

then claps Costello solidly across the back. He moves to
Maranzano, handing his envelope directly to the Boss.

CLOSE - ON LUCIANO AS HE KNEELS

struggling against his urge to kill Maranzano here and now.
He presses his lips against the ring.

MARANZANO
I am your Papa now.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO APARTMENT - NIGHT

Luciano, Costello, Siegel and Lansky huddle in the living
room, still in their evening wear.

FRANK
I ain't sure there is a way ta get
at Maranzano. Masseria tried for six
months and never got a shot.

Charlie glowers at the others.

LUCIANO
There's a way. We just ain't thinkin'
hard enough.

A deadly silence falls over the room.

IN THE DARKENED BEDROOM - SAME

Gay stands by the window gazing out into the night, the
remnants of a drink in her hand. She spots a man looking up
at the window from the street several floors below, and draws
the curtains over the window.

ON THE STREET - SAME

A BURST OF FLAME illuminates the sinister face of Mad Dog
Coll as he lights a cigarette.

IN THE BEDROOM

Gay peeks through the curtains at Coll.

IN THE LIVING ROOM - SAME

The boys sit in pained silence, desperate for an idea that
will save their lives. Gay walks in from the bedroom, drink
in hand.

GAY ORLOVA
Charlie?

LUCIANO
(snapping)
I'm doin' business here!

GAY ORLOVA
But there's...

Grabbing a bottle of Scotch, Charlie thrusts it at Gay.

LUCIANO
Here. That hold a while?

Hurt, Gay retreats to the bedroom. Charlie winces, knowing
he's fucked up.

IN THE BEDROOM

Gay lays across the bed, her face buried in a pillow. Charlie
enters, closing the door behind himself.

LUCIANO
I'm gettin' more like my old man
every year.

Gay rolls over, teary eyed, as Charlie sits down next to
her.

GAY ORLOVA
I'm gonna lose you, Charlie.

LUCIANO
It'll all be over tomorrow. No more
wars. No more killin'. Just livin'
normal like everybody else.
(a beat)
You'll be stuck with me for good.

Gay pulls herself into his embrace, wanting to believe it.

LUCIANO
Your friends in London still have
that house in the country?

Gay shakes her head "yes".

LUCIANO
If you wanted to get married, maybe
we could honeymoon there.

Choking back her tears, Gay shakes her head "yes" again.
Charlie turns Gay's face to his own, and kisses her.

LUCIANO
Is it okay if I go back to work?

Smiling through tears, Gay nods "yes" once again. The camera
pans up from the bed to the window. Below, WE SEE Mad Dog
Coll still waiting on the street.

BACK IN THE LIVING ROOM

Charlie, suppressing a smile, plops down into a chair amidst
his disheartened pals. He baits Meyer.

LUCIANO
Meyer, ain't anybody ever told you
ya look more like a bookkeeper than
a fuckin' mobster?

LANSKY
What's your problem?

LUCIANO
It's just that Maranzano's the only
bastard I ever heard brag about
gettin' audited by the IRS. He came
out clean, so he thinks his shit
don't stink.

LANSKY
Is there a fuckin' point comin' up
anytime soon?

LUCIANO
Seein' he loved the experience so
much, I think we outta give him the
pleasure again.

CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO BEDROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT

Charlie slips into the bed, being careful not to wake the
sleeping Gay. He snuggles close to her, and inhales deeply
the aroma of her body.

CUT TO:

INT: HALLWAY OUTSIDE LUCIANO APARTMENT - SAME

A pair of burly BODYGUARDS in tuxedos stand watch outside
Charlie's door. The First Bodyguard sits on a folding chair
by the door. The Second Bodyguard leans against the wall
opposite.

DOWN THE HALLWAY

The door to the stairway cracks open. Mad Dog Coll peers
out.

BACK WITH THE BODYGUARDS

They chat amiably.

ON THE STAIRCASE

Coll sits on the landing, smoking a cigarette.

BY LUCIANO'S FRONT DOOR

The First Bodyguard sleeps soundly in the folding chair. The
Second Bodyguard moves from one wall to the other, looking
for a comfortable stance, crazy with boredom.

ON THE STAIRCASE

Coll puts out his cigarette in a pile of butts by his side.

INSIDE CHARLIE'S BATHROOM

As Charlie splashes water on his face at the sink.

IN THE BEDROOM

The light of dawn seeps through the curtains. Charlie enters
from the bath and crosses to the bed, where Gay lay sleeping.
Charlie leans across the bed and busses her cheek. She wakes
up, mildly irritated, and pulls the covers up over her head
to shut out the light.

IN THE KITCHEN

Charlie measures spoonfuls of ground coffee into the pot,
and turns on the burner. Pulling a tray out of a cabinet, he
sets two cups, two saucers, and a covered sugar bowl on it.

IN THE HALLWAY

The Second Bodyguard stands with his shoulder against the
wall, facing toward the apartment door, filing his nails.
The First Bodyguard still sleeps by the door.

CLOSE - ON THE SECOND BODYGUARD

As he digs under one of his nails with the file, intent on
the job. A shadow looms. A hand clasps over his mouth from
behind. His body goes rigid. The tip of a knife BURSTS from
under his larynx. As he struggles, the knife ROTATES 180
degrees in his neck. Blood gurgles out of his mouth as his
eyes roll back in his head. He slides along the wall to the
floor.

MAD DOG COLL

stoops to wipe his bloody hands on the dead man's tuxedo.

CLOSE - ON THE FACE OF THE FIRST BODYGUARD

who seems to stir awake, then doze off again, then finally
rouse himself to consciousness. As his eyes blink open, a
knife comes crashing into the top of his skull, freezing his
bemused expression for eternity. He slumps over in his chair,
the knife still planted in his head. Coll fishes the keys to
the apartment from the man's pocket.

IN THE KITCHEN

Charlie lifts the coffee pot off of the stove AT THE FRONT
DOOR - COLL ENTERS THE APARTMENT

Closing the door behind himself, and moving toward the
bedroom.

IN THE KITCHEN

Charlie pours the coffee into the cups, and lifts the tray.

IN THE BEDROOM - COLL PULLS A PISTOL FROM HIS JACKET

and he moves toward the covered figure on the bed.

CHARLIE

moves through the living room with the tray. As he reaches
the hallway that leads to the bedroom, he lifts the cover of
the sugar bowl. It's empty. Muttering to himself, Charlie
turns back toward the kitchen.

IN THE BEDROOM

Coll wraps a pillow around his pistol. Lowers it to Gay's
head.

IN THE KITCHEN

Charlie holds the sugar bowl as he searches for the sugar.
At the sound of the muffled shot, he drops the sugar bowl
and it shatters on the floor.

IN THE BEDROOM

Coll reacts to the crash of the sugar bowl. Runs from the
room.

CHARLIE RUNS TO THE LIVING ROOM

As Coll disappears through the front door.

AT THE DOOR - CHARLIE

Stands over the dead bodyguards. He can hear the sound of
footsteps racing down the stairway. He turns back and looks
down the hall toward the bedroom. His face filled with dread.

CUT TO:

ENTRANCE TO LUCIANO'S BUILDING - DAY

Onlookers and reporters crowd around the entrance as three
covered stretchers are loaded into the back of a hearse at
the curb. The NYPD Captain who ran interference after
Masseria's murder emerges with a consoling arm around
Costello's shoulder.

CAPTAIN
Whatever the department can do, Frank.
Let me know.

FRANK
Just let the press boys think
Charlie's ridin' the hearse.

CUT TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S STUDY - DAY

Charlie sits at a desk, with the telephone book open before
him. He dials a number. His voice as lifeless as a recording.

FIRST OPERATOR
(ON PHONE)
Park Terrace Hotel.

LUCIANO
Herman Coll, please.

FIRST OPERATOR
(ON PHONE)
I'm sorry, but we have no Mr. Coll
registered, sir.

Charlie hangs up. Dials the next number out of the book.

SECOND OPERATOR
(ON PHONE)
Pennsylvania Hotel.

LUCIANO
Herman Coll, please.

SECOND OPERATOR
(ON PHONE)
I don't find a Mr. Coll in our
registry, are you sure...

Charlie hangs up. Dials the next number listed.

THIRD OPERATOR
(ON PHONE)
Post Hotel.

LUCIANO
Herman Coll, please.

THIRD OPERATOR
(ON PHONE)
One moment please... That number is
busy. Would you care to hold?

Charlie hangs up without replying. Opens a drawer in the
desk and pulls out a pistol.

CUT TO:

INT: ROOM AT POST HOTEL - DAY

Coll paces with the phone in his hand, his luggage packed
and ready for a quick departure.

MAD DOG COLL
I don't care if he's in the crapper
with the trots, I got information
he's gonna wanna hear.

After a moment, Maranzano comes on the line.

MARANZANO
(ON PHONE)
Yes?

MAD DOG COLL
I'm comin' for my twenty thousand.

MARANZANO
(ON PHONE)
Luciano is dead?

MAD DOG COLL
Open a window. Every newsboy in town's
screamin' about it.

CUT TO:

INT: MARANZANO'S INNER OFFICE - DAY

Maranzano hangs up the phone, and turns to the bar behind
his desk. Fishing a bottle of fifty year old brandy from the
back, he pours himself a measure. Holding the snifter up to
his nose, he savors the smell of victory, then downs the
brandy.

CUT TO:

INT: ANOTHER HOTEL ROOM - DAY

Three men with pronounced Semitic features change into
conservative business attire. One opens a leather briefcase
filled with gleaming knifes.

IN THE BATHROOM - MEYER LANSKY

applies a false moustache to his upper lip. Slips wire-rimmed
glasses over his ears. Looking as menacing as an undertaker.

CUT TO:

INT: POST HOTEL LOBBY - DAY

Coll steps off an elevator and crosses the lobby, smiling to
himself as he passes a man hidden behind a newspaper headlined
"LUCIANO'S LUCK RUNS OUT" over a photo of Charlie. As Coll
exits, the newspaper lowers to reveal a grim-faced Luciano.

CUT TO:

EXT: ON THE STREET - DAY

Coll heads into a department store.

INT: STORE MEN'S DEPARTMENT - DAY

A salesman carrying two suits accompanies Coll to a changing
booth. Coll disappears behind the curtain. Inside the booth
Coll frowns as he tries on a jacket. The sleeves are two
short. He calls out for the salesman.

MAD DOG COLL
Bring me a 42.

The curtain snaps open. Luciano jams a gun under Coll's chin
and squeezes inside the booth with him.

LUCIANO
What about a .45?

Coll blinks, not believing his eyes.

LUCIANO
Just goes ta show, Mad Dog. Don't
believe everything ya read in the
newspapers.

"Mad Dog" suddenly looks like a rabbit caught in the
headlights on an oncoming car.

LUCIANO
Even scum like you ain't supposed ta
hit a guy at home. Where the people
he cares about find refuge from this
fucked up world. But then you always
said the rules didn't apply ta Mad
Dog Coll.

LUCIANO PUSHES COLL THROUGH THE LADIES' DEPARTMENT

His gun jammed into Coll's back. They pass a pair of older
matrons at the lingerie counter. Coll grabs one of the matrons
by her strand of pearls and spins her around, shoving her
screaming into Charlie's path. Coming up flush on Charlie's
gun, she dissolves into hysterics.

COLL RUNS THROUGH THE LADIES' DEPARTMENT

Knocking merchandise and mannequins into Charlie's path.
Screaming women scatter, as Charlie tackles Coll, catching
him around the ankles. Charlie loses his gun, and it slides
across the slick floor. Coll crashes into a jewelry display
counter, shattering the glass. An alarm RINGS.

HIS LEG HURT IN THE FALL - CHARLIE CRAWLS TOWARD THE GUN

as the Department store Manager and two Security Guards come
charging down the aisle. As Charlie reaches for the gun,
Coll snatches it up, and levels it at Charlie. The Store
manager calls out from behind.

STORE MANAGER
MY GOOD SIR! WHAT DO YOU THINK...

Coll turns on his heel and plants a bullet deep into the
Manager's forehead, knocking him flat on his back. The
Security Guards dive for cover. Charlie crawls behind a
display case. Coll charges for the door.

OUTSIDE

Coll shoves an older man away from the door of a cab and
climbs inside. He jams his gun into the back of the driver's
head.

MAD DOG COLL
425 Park Avenue.

CUT TO:

EXT: 425 PARK AVENUE - DAY

A car pulls to the curb in front of the office building.
Lansky and his "accountants" get out, briefcases in hand.

CUT TO:

INT: MARANZANO'S INNER OFFICE - DAY

Maranzano sits at his desk. Two Bodyguards hover by the door.
His intercom buzzes.

MARANZANO
What is it, Grace?

GRACE
(ON INTERCOM)
There are some men here from the
Internal Revenue. They say they need
to speak to you personally.

MARANZANO
I'll be out.

IN THE OUTER OFFICE

Lansky stays to the back of the group as the "accountants"
open their briefcases. The Bodyguards emerge from the inner
office, followed by a jovial Maranzano.

MARANZANO
You government people are never
satisfied to do something once.

The accountants pull their weapons from their briefcases and
aim them at the Boss and his Bodyguards. Lansky steps forward.

LANSKY
Take him inside.

Lansky and the First Accountant shove Maranzano into his
office. The other Accountants push the Bodyguards against
the wall and pat them down.

IN THE INNER OFFICE

Lansky pulls out two knives and tosses one to the First
Accountant.

LANSKY
We don't want to disturb your
neighbors.

As Lansky advances, Maranzano backs up, begging, "No. Please.
No." Lansky plunges his knife deep into Maranzano's chest.

IN THE OUTER OFFICE

The other two Accountants stand with their backs to the door,
their guns trained on the Bodyguards. Grace sits trembling
at her desk. She gasps as the door swings open.

MAD DOG COLL STEPS INSIDE

One of the Bodyguards turns toward the door, and Coll opens
fire. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! He blasts away both Accountants
and the Bodyguards. As an afterthought, he turns toward Grace,
whimpering behind her desk. Can't have a witness running
around. BLAM!

IN THE INNER OFFICE

Maranzano bellows like a dying elephant, swinging his arms
wildly, trying to ward off the knives as he crawls backwards
on the floor. Blood bubbles from his chest.

THE DOOR FLIES OPEN

The glass shattering as it slams against the wall. Mad Dog
Coll stands in the doorway. His gun trained on Lansky.
Maranzano gasps for air.

MAD DOG COLL
What a cozy little scene.

MARANZANO
Kill them! Kill them!

MAD DOG COLL
What's it worth to ya, Boss?

MARANZANO
Anything!

MAD DOG COLL
Anything ain't a very hard number.

MARANZANO
One hundred thousand. No... three
hundred thousand.

MAD DOG COLL
Now that's a hard number.

Coll aims carefully at Lansky. Squeezes the trigger. BLAM!
COLL'S FOREHEAD EXPLODES.

CHARLIE STEPS INTO THE ROOM

A sawed-off shotgun smoking in his hands. He advances on
Maranzano, whose whole body shakes. He lowers the barrel to
Maranzano's head.

LANSKY
No way, Charlie.

Charlie trembles, fighting his lust for revenge, as Lansky
moves to his side.

CLOSE - ON CHARLIE'S FACE

As Lansky takes the weapon from Charlie, and aims it at
Maranzano. BLAM!

CUT TO:

INT: CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

Thirty top mobsters are arrayed around a conference table.
Mangano. Profaci. Bonnano. Anastasia. Gagliano. Dalitz. Hoff.
Costello. Siegel. Lansky. A single chair, at the head of the
table, remains empty. Al Capone sits to the right of it.

LUCIANO ENTERS THE ROOM

Looks around the table for a place to sit. Capone calls him
to the head of the table.

CAPONE
Up here, Boss.

LUCIANO
That ain't exactly been the lucky
spot lately.

CAPONE
But from now on it's Lucky's spot.

The men applaud and call out in agreement as Charlie makes
his way to the head of the table and settles in.

LUCIANO
Maybe you better hear what I got to
say first.

CAPONE
Whatever you say, Boss.

LUCIANO
No, Al. Whatever we say. We're all
Bosses here. We don' need another.

JOE PROFACI
Come on, Charlie. We gotta have a
top guy. Otherwise these wars ain't
never gonna stop.

LUCIANO
As long as ya got one top Boss,
somebody else's always gonna be
looking to knock him off. And that's
war on top of war.

JOE PROFACI
Who'll make the rules?

LUCIANO
We'll make 'em, and we'll enforce
'em. All of us. Together. We all get
one vote. Includin' me.

JOE PROFACI
Charlie, I'm from the old country,
and these American ways get me
sometimes confused. You tellin' us
you refuse the title of Boss of All
the Bosses?

LUCIANO
I don't care what anybody calls me,
Joe. Long as it ain't to dirty. And
if you fellas get together every
year and say, "Charlie, we still
want you to run things for us", I
ain't gonna insult ya by sayin' no.

Costello stands up at his chair.

FRANK
I propose we make Charlie Luciano
head of our National Commission for
the next year. All in favor?

Several hands shot up quickly, others respond more slowly,
uncomfortable with this new-fangled democracy. Finally, only
Profaci's hand remains down.

LUCIANO
You wanna be Boss, Joe?

Profaci lifts his hand up.

JOE PROFACI
Julius Caesar never took no vote.

LUCIANO
And maybe that's why he ended up
dead in the streets of Rome.

The men LAUGH and Profaci joins in.

CUT TO:

INT: GRAND CONCOURSE HALL - NIGHT

With the same set of three hundred mobsters gathered together
to hail a new leader for the second time in two weeks.

IN THE LOBBY OUTSIDE THE HALL

Charlie makes his way through a throng of well-wishers. Al
Capone catches Charlie in a bear hug and slips a fat envelope
into his hand. Charlie shakes his head and gives it back.

LUCIANO
Why should you be payin' me when
we're all equals?

CAPONE
You scare me, Charlie.

LUCIANO
Maybe that's why I'm the Boss.

INSIDE THE HALL

As Charlie makes his way up the center aisle with Lansky,
Siegel, and Costello, accepting the cheers and handshakes of
the crowd.

CUT TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Still dressed from the banquet, Charlie comes through the
front door. He removes his coat, and tosses it across the
sofa.

CHARLIE WALKS DOWN THE HALLWAY

rubbing the exhaustion from his face. At the bedroom door,
he flips the light switch.

THE SCALLOP-SHELL LAMP

casts it's mournful glow across the empty bed. Charlie stares
wistfully for a moment, then flips the light back off.

IN THE DIMLY LIT MARBLE BATH

Charlie lays back in the foamy bubbles in the tub. Lifting a
cigar to his mouth, he strikes a match and lights it. He
inhales deeply, holds the smoke for a moment, then expels it
suddenly. He tosses the cigar into the toilet, where it
sizzles and dies. He reaches over and flushes the toilet,
then lays back into the bubbles, deep in thought.

THE END

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