Michael Mahern and Nicholas Kazan
Based on a story by
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
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.
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.
Your last taste of Sicily.
A MIDDLE-AGED MAN OF SEVERE BEARING
looms in the doorway. He shouts.
Rosalie Luciano stirs out of her stupor, as Antonio grabs
the piece of sausage from his son's hand.
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
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.
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.
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.
Sit in the back.
Salvatore looks around, not understanding.
There is some mistake.
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.
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
Sit in the back.
Sal spins around and smacks the Teacher full across the face,
then bolts for the door.
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.
Before the Operator can spin the wheel, Sal waves a nickel.
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.
A lucky boy. You're playing again?
Only when there's another fool with
a dollar to bet against.
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.
The Teacher hit me first!
Antonio hits Sal hard, upside the head.
You have a smart teacher.
Rosalie runs over from the kitchen, waving a ladle.
He's only a baby!
Mama, I'm not a baby!
Antonio smacks Sal again, as his mother tries to pull him
Don't talk back to your mother.
At the door, the Truant Officer rolls his eyes. Antonio shoves
Salvatore toward him.
Take him. I can do nothing.
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.
INT: A MASSIVE DORMITORY - DAY
Deserted, except for Sal and another boy his age, who are on
their hands and knees scrubbing the floor.
Where were you before?
School Thirty-Four? Hey, me too.
I live on Thirteenth Street.
He extends a soapy hand to Sal and they shake.
Hey, me too.
Frank laughs at Sal's attempt at English
I'm Frankie Costello.
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?
I want an American name.
Frank regards Sal critically for a moment.
Fuck you, Charlie.
Frank gestures with his middle finger. Charlie returns it.
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.
Son of a bitch!
Angry now, Frank grabs his crotch and hisses.
Suck my dick, motherfucker.
Charlie jumps up and dramatically grabs his crotch.
Muddafucka somma bitch. Sucka my
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.
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.
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.
Yeah. So who the fuck does?
Come on. Tell us, Shitface.
Costello jumps up and seizes Siegel by the shirt.
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.
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.
Frankie. Didn't I tell ya about makin'
nice ta the customers?
Frank climbs up. Embarrassed.
You fellas got names?
Lansky. Meyer Lansky. And that's
Bugsy Siegel ya got there.
Siegel continues to struggle in Luciano's grip.
They call me Bugsy 'cause I'm fuckin'
Charlie lowers Siegel to the sidewalk.
Luciano glares at Costello.
Tell ya what. In consideration of
this little misunderstanding, we're
gonna give you fellas protection for
Lansky looks over to the Irish gang, then back to Charlie.
Keep your fuckin' Dago protection.
As Lansky and Siegel turn and head toward the school, Charlie
grabs the seething Costello, then LAUGHS.
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.
Prosciutto... from Lercara Friddi.
Charlie eyes the ham, the taste already in his mouth. He
leans to Frankie.
Stayin' for dinner, Paisan?
No! Prosciutto must hang to dry before
you eat it. He may come on Sunday.
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.
Dinner will be ready when the dinner
Charlie enters from the bedroom wearing a blue seersucker
suit. Antonio pours Frankie a niggardly portion of the wine.
Careful, Pop. Frankie might get his
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
Charlie grabs the wine bottle, filling Frankie's glass, then
his father's. Antonio looks to Frankie, then back to Charlie.
I know of the things you do.
There's a knock on the door. Antonio looks up with
AT THE DOOR
A well-dressed man forces his way inside past Antonio.
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
Saturday I will pay double.
Moliari turns to face Antonio. His voice falling to a whisper.
So I should ask Don Maranzano?
An edge of panic creeps into Antonio's voice.
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.
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.
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
And you must still pay double!
As Moliari exits, Charlie pulls away from his father, raises
an arm threateningly, then drops it in disgust.
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.
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.
Who's Mr. Tutti-Frutti?
Frank shoots Charlie a withering look.
That's Don Maranzano. He drops one a
them fuckin' gloves at your feet,
Ya comin' in?
Frank lays a restraining hand on Charlie.
Moliari knows ya got a beef. We gotta
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
KEEPING HIS EYE ON CHARLIE, SHANE RUNS HEAD ON INTO LANSKY
Lansky barely retains his grip on the cholent.
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.
I go where I want.
Meyer struggles to breathe, the cholent shaking in his hands.
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.
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.
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
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
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.
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
CHARLIE PULLS A KNIFE FROM SHANE'S BACK
with a violent twist, drops it into the void, and grabs
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
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
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.
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.
How much longer we gotta be shut up
in this fuckin' sweatbox?
Long as Charlie says.
When the stiff's an Irish, the cops
take it kinda personal.
Can't we get a couple whores over?
Contemptuous, Frank holds up his little finger and wiggles
You ain't even a man yet.
That ain't what your mama said.
Frank leaps up.
You slimy fuckin' kike!
Bugsy regards Frank cooly, fondling his own crotch.
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.
Frank and Bugsy back off, continuing to stare each other
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.
hands a pot through the window to Bugsy and climbs down into
the room. Bugsy doles the contents out into bowls.
Where'd ya get this funny ravioli?
Ya ignorant Guinea, it's kreplach.
Charlie bites into a piece. Nods approvingly to Meyer.
When we get outta here, I'm gonna
steal somethin' nice for your mom.
Why wait? Ain't ya still got it hard
for that Moliari fella?
Sure. But John Law's got it hard for
There's a lotta other folks they
ain't looking for.
Puzzled by the drift of the conversation, Bugsy objects.
What the hell you talkin' about?
Ignoring Bugsy, Meyer smiles sweetly at Charlie.
Guess I owe ya one, Charlie.
Would somebody here please speak
Frankie leans over to bait Bugsy.
Why I gotta be hooked up with the
only stupid Jew in New York.
Bugsy takes a swing at Frankie.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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
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.
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
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.
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.
Can I help you, sir?
Maranzano's puzzled. Unsure of himself.
Where is Mr. Moliari?
Moliari? Up the stairs.
ON THE TABLE
as Bugsy mumbles gibberish, prayin' it sounds like Hebrew.
AT THE DOOR
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.
Dirty thieving Jews!
INT: WAREHOUSE BASEMENT - DAY
Meyer, Bugsy, and Frankie watch anxiously as Charlie counts
out the last bill from the envelope.
What's that divided four ways?
A hundred-seven bucks too much. Any
kid who drops an extra dime is gonna
be talkin' to Moliari.
Ya mean we're so rich we're broke?
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.
And dough is gonna put us into
business with John Law.
INT: DETECTIVE MULLAVEY'S OFFICE - DAY
The imposing Irishman pulls up a chair opposite a nervous
Frankie. His manner concerned, almost fatherly.
They told me you wanted to talk about
this Shane business.
You havin' any luck findin' out who
Shane was a friend of yours?
He was around...
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)
When you're investigatin', how long
ya keep at it?
It consoles the bereaved family ta
see the perpetrator take his load of
juice. We try to oblige.
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.
Inactive. Dead cases, so to speak.
Frankie pulls five twenty-dollar bills from his jacket and
fans them across his knee. Mullavey nods approvingly.
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.
What caused you to mistake me for a
twenty-five cent prostitute?
Mullavey grabs Frankie's collar and twists it tight.
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.
I need a perpetrator. Who? WHO??
Not sure what the rules are, Frankie sweats an answer.
Barone. It was Barone.
Mullavey relaxes his grip. A smile blossoms on his ruddy
Knew it all the time.
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.
Missed ya, Mama.
Howling with delight, she spins around into her son's arms.
Antonio Luciano looks up from the kitchen table. Not pleased.
The police came looking for you.
Rosalie hands Charlie two plates of lasagna. He sits opposite
his pop, handing him the second plate.
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.
I found this under your bed. It was
stolen from the jewelry store on
12th Street last week.
Snoopin' ain't nice, Pop.
Is it so important to have a gold
buckle and no honor?
Charlie looks up from his lasagna. Matter of fact.
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
You are not my son! You are only a
thief and you cannot live in my house
Charlie turns to his Mother.
So long, Mama.
Rosalie runs over to Antonio and pounds on his chest as she
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.
You ain't always gonna be poor.
As Charlie exits, a plate of lasagna CRASHES against the
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.
What would it take to get a couple
fingers of Scotch?
A miracle. We have nothing.
I finally get the dough for good
booze, and them frustrated old broads
in the WTCU put the country on the
The waiter shrugs and moves on.
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.
So what's the good news.
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.
And the 15th Precinct?
Captain Murray won't go under one-
fifty for the lottery.
It's not enough we pay his rent, we
gotta buy him a house too?
The Boys mumble their assent. Bugsy nods toward Reina.
Sure. Bring your friend over.
shakes hands around the table. Takes a seat.
Tommy Reina. Good pal. Better partner.
From your mouth ta God's ear.
He's got a line on the good stuff.
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.
Nucky's a straight shooter. We ain't
gonna get fucked.
Who's Nucky's friend?
Reina pauses and looks around the table.
The guys look to each other. Disbelieving.
No disrespect, Tommy, but why would
Mr. Arnold Rothstein wanna do business
with bums like us?
Why ya always gotta go lookin' for a
gift in the mouth of the horse?
Reina shrugs his shoulders. Charlie looks to Meyer.
How ya figure?
Meyer ponders for a moment.
Fuckin' right it figures.
Twenty-five's pretty much our stake.
Anybody got a problem?
No one raises an objection.
What's the deadline?
Monday. Cash. In Philly.
I don't think they wanna wait.
Wednesday. Or not at all.
We could lose the deal!
If we have to.
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
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.
When did Capone get back in town?
As Capone approaches, Charlie stands, gives him a bearhug,
then stands back to inspect him.
So Chicago's been good to ya.
I do right by Johnny Torrio and he
does right by me.
Ya still owe me fifty bucks for the
And a lot more. Can we talk?
Charlie looks around to the phalanx of bodyguards.
Sure. What's with the brick wall?
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.
Around the block.
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.
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!
But ya got a Boss.
Torrio ain't like them guys. He thinks
like an American. You'd like him,
Charlie. He'd like you.
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.
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
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.
You're a big target, Al. Finish your
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.
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 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 turns his back to the dumpster, gun drawn. Waiting
for the rat to scurry from his hole.
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
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.
Nobody kills a guy who owes me money.
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.
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
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.
I'm glad you came down. I prefer to
do business face to face.
Rothstein and Johnson settle into chairs opposite the sofa.
When my money moves, I go with it.
I trust Mr. Johnson filled you in on
Indignant, Tommy comes up in his seat.
Revisions? He didn't say nothin'!
Charlie silences Tommy with a gesture.
There's been another offer at forty
We have a deal.
You asked for an extension.
And when you gave it too me, I knew
you were hurtin'.
Scotch is a very valuable commodity
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
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
Rothstein gestures for Nucky to cool down.
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
Could we step outside?
INT: HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY
Charlie follows Rothstein into the elevators.
I got my partner in there!
I cannot bear to look at that hideous
suit one minute more.
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.
That's a suit for a man grubbing for
money, not one who has it.
The salesman nods and exits. Rothstein turns to Charlie.
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.
Their asses are here, but their
fuckin' heads are still in Sicily.
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.
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
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
Don't worry. I got friends to take
care of that.
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.
Produce. Produce is a livelihood. In
thirty years it's never disappointed
me. Good times and bad, people gotta
Meyer nods dutifully, as Anna watches him admiringly from
across the table.
Produce sent my Anna to private
Anna's father knocks on the table.
He can't resist a final shot.
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.
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.
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.
Jesus. How's a guy supposed ta fuck
in a joint like this?
Huddle around a coffee table in the living room, as Charlie
fills three glasses with champagne and passes them around.
Meyer just finished the books.
A million bucks. In the last six
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.
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.
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
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.
Guess I just wasn't born to it.
Charlie shrugs. Bobby extends a hand.
I'm Bobby Clowes. Kansas City.
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.
Got the same problem with my pop --
garlic. Nothin' you can do.
The goddamned bastards.
Tell me about it.
CHARLIE AND BOBBY
sit at a table in a corner of the club.
I remember reading a poem in college.
"Sicily. Poor, noble isle...".
But not you.
Charlie leans back and knocks on the wood paneled wall.
Am I such bad luck?
Charlie looks up at Don Maranzano who hovers over the table.
He extends his hand, but doesn't stand.
Don Maranzano. Welcome.
I've heard so much about this club
of yours. I had to come and see.
Good liquor draws a good crowd.
I must know more of you, my son.
Not a lot ta know.
Maranzano voice takes on a faint edge of menace.
Then perhaps you need to know me.
Don, I'd be honored.
Don Maranzano bows slightly from the waist, turns, and
disappears into the crowd. Charlie's expression darkens.
Who was that?
My fuckin' meat packin' plant.
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
Know somethin'? This stuff's just
kick-the-can on ponies.
Wanna know what I think?
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
Charlie glares at Bugsy, but Bobby laughs.
You got a point there, Bugsy.
Frank exchanges looks with a COOL BLONDE in the next car.
Hey. Whatever the hell works.
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.
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.
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.
Why are Americans always so desperate
to have a good time?
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.
Inside, they were talking of you.
I can just imagine.
No. They envy you.
For being a bootlegger?
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.
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
Salvatore. My young Caesar. First
me, Sallie. Then you.
The name's Charlie.
Maranzano laughs, steps back and holds Charlie at arm's
Words of praise are meant only for
the great, and you, my son, will do
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
My bambino, please.
Choking back his pride, Charlie kisses the ring. The Don
AT THE TABLE
Charlie eats with the elaborate care of the newly arrived.
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.
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.
And how many soldiers do you have?
I've got friends.
I have six hundred. Soldiers. And
more every week off the boat.
An' Masseria's got seven hundred.
Maranzano hisses at the mention of Masseria's name.
He's an animal!
He's the Boss of all the Bosses, and
I respect him.
Maranzano slaps his palm on the table.
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.
Thanks for lunch.
Calming down, Maranzano waves away the disagreement. Pours
Charlie a glass of wine.
The Internal Revenue came to my
offices. I turned over all my ledgers.
They found nothing. Charlie, I am a
Sittin' around gives me the piles.
You got a proposition?
Maranzano blesses Charlie with a sweet, fatherly smile.
We combine everything. You are my
second in command.
What about the share.
You get fifteen percent.
I got partners.
Your Calabrian friend, I will accept.
At least Costello eats pasta like
And the Jews?
Share with them as you wish. Do
business with them on your own. But
no filthy Jew will ever be a brother
CHARLIE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Lansky, Siegel, Costello, and Luciano ponder their options.
Those fucks can't leave each other
alone. Maranzano and Masseria ain't
gonna be satisfied until one of 'em
starts a war.
Let 'em kill each other off! Why
should we care?
There won't be any way to stay out
I think Maranzano's talkin' a hell
of a deal.
Sure, Frankie. Fuck me. Fuck Meyer.
Fuck Arnold Rothstein who's made us
all rich. All so you can be an fuckin'
Does Maranzano have to kiss you on
the lips before you'll take his
If he's gonna fuck me up the ass!
Hey. Calm down. They're crazy. We're
not. Let's use that. Okay?
Siegel and Costello shrug a truce.
Bugsy, you and I don't need to be in
business with Maranzano. We got more
jobs than we can handle. That's not
So what is the problem?
The minute we sell out to Maranzano,
that bastard is gonna have you knocked
A momentary silence falls over the group.
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.
The deal's too good, Frankie
What are ya thinkin', Charlie?
That I got a smart Jew partner.
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.
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.
Paisan! Merry Christmas!
Good ta see ya. How's the Mrs.?
Tommy grabs his balls.
Like always, Bugs. Pregnant!
Tommy leans over to Charlie to whisper.
So ya told Maranzano ta fuck off.
Charlie shakes his head "no".
I sent him a case of Scotoch.
Sure. A polite "fuck you".
In the corner. He's been askin' after
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.
WHERE'S MY FUCKIN' WINE! Spend five
grand for a party an' can't get a
fuckin' glass of wine.
Ya already look drunk ta me, Don.
Silence falls over the table.
But not drunk enough!
Masseria LAUGHS. Rising, he envelops Charlie in a bear hug.
Buona fuckin' sera.
He busses Charlie on the cheek and whispers.
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.
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.
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
If ever I need a Boss, Joe.
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.
I like that.
Whatta ya mean, Boss?
Ya piss like a man.
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.
Hey, Meyer. This the chickie that
got your number?
Meyer makes a face indicating that Frankie should cool it.
Frank looks apologetically to Anna.
Anna, I want you to meet an associate
of mine. Frank Costello.
You're an importer also?
His brain not at 100%, Frank puzzles a reply.
Mr. Costello handles our business
with the government agencies.
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
Where's the stiff?
Come on. Be polite.
Bugsy slips his coat back over his shoulders.
Sorry, Charlie. I gotta get my Johnson
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.
Come join the Polar Bear Club.
Gay lights up as Charlie approaches.
Charlie, Gay Orlova.
We already met.
Bobby quickly sizes up the situation.
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
You here with Bobby?
No. I'm here with you.
This evokes a shy smile from Charlie.
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.
It's so cold out here.
Charlie embraces her, brushing her hair with his hand.
There are warmer places.
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.
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.
Are you frightened?
Why should I be?
A smile edges across Gay's face.
You're so soft for a hard man.
Charlie pulls her closer.
I had everything. Once.
So what happened?
Life knocked me back.
I came into this world flat on my
And now you have everything.
No. Not everything.
Up down. Down up. It's the same. You
see things through both eyes.
I guess I am. Just a little.
What do you mean?
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.
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
What's the matter?
I must be going.
IN THE LIVING ROOM
Gay walks to the door, Charlie trailing after, pulling on
the robe that Gay discarded.
Come on. It's Christmas. At least
stay for breakfast.
I'm already late.
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.
Answer your phone.
Charlie moves to the phone.
(picking up 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.
I don't even know where you live!
(back on phone)
Meyer, do I have to remind you what
day it is?
Three of our trucks were hijacked
last night. We got New Year's comin'
and no inventory.
Silently, Charlie curses his fate.
Get hold of Frank and Bugsy. We gotta
go to Atlantic City. Now.
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.
Why didn't you tell me that Maranzano
had made you an offer?
I turned him down flat.
Rothstein turns around and fixes his gaze on Charlie.
And if I had known, I would have
warned you to expect this. We could
Masseria's been after me too.
Thank you for keeping me informed.
We were overdue to get hit.
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.
We can operate around these guys.
Not by scurrying around like a puppies
in a roomful of elephants.
Okay. I'm listening.
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
Rothstein cups his hands in front of him.
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.
Makes sense, Charlie. We gotta be
making the moves from now on.
Charlie ponders for a moment.
This is your territory, Nucky. How'd
you like ta make a lotta dough for
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.
There's a shipment landin' at Cape
May today. Might solve your problem
with New Year's.
Who's is it?
Nucky can't help but smile.
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
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.
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
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
THE PANICKED DRIVER
Slams the truck into gear, running over the body of the
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
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.
Tell them to throw their guns out!
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.
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.
Luciano and Lansky move in closer to Bugsy.
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.
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.
pour out of the second truck and open fire. Shots ring out
from both sides, with the Driver caught in the middle.
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
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
INSIDE THE TRUCK
Charlie slams a fist against the steering wheel.
Lansky leans through the window from the rear of the truck.
We'll figure out something.
I'm supposed to be at my old man's
for Christmas dinner at eight.
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.
LEAVE IT ALONE!
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
When the old man calms down give him
Charlie fishes around in his pocket, and comes with a stunning
Tell Ma I'm sorry. I didn't have
time to get it wrapped.
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.
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.
Come off it, Bugs.
Come off it, Bugs.
Bugsy grabs the whiskey bottle, shatters it across the edge
of the table, and holds the jagged edge to his opposite wrist.
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.
Tell me when ya got enough.
Lansky shakes his head in disgust.
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.
Bugsy's bravado collapses in the face of Charlie's bloodless
calm. He wraps his arm. Luciano lowers himself into a chair.
Johnson's still on board. Even
Maranzano won't screw with Nucky in
Atlantic City. But everywhere else,
we got nothing but problems.
I'll knock 'em in, Charlie. I can do
it. Blow his fuckin' head off. Get
rid of the bastard for good.
You wouldn't live out the week.
We got exactly two choices, Maranzano
They don't give a shit about us!
Masseria's scared. He might make our
We can't sell out to those guys.
They ain't businessmen!
But nobody pays the slightest attention to Bugsy's protests.
But Maranzano's got the men and the
Which is why he doesn't need us.
Frustrated at being ignored, Bugsy shouts.
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.
At least Masseria plays by the rules.
Maranzano thinks he's God, and the
rules don't apply.
Without us, Masseria don't stand a
chance, and he knows it.
I'm sorry, but I sleep better when I
know I'm with the winning side.
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.
I thought we just wanted to be left
alone to run our business.
It's past that. We take over the
whole show, or we're all dead.
Bugsy perks up.
So we're gonna knock 'em both off?
If it comes to that. Yeah.
Bugsy breaks into a broad grin.
Well, shit. Why the fuck ya didn't
come right out and say so!
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.
I was calling yesterday.
Something came up.
I needed to see you again.
Under his robe, Charlie adjusts his suddenly swelling member.
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
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
Why do you bother with perfume when
you smell like this?
It's a mask.
You got something to hide?
It's too late.
Have you thought about this?
Why? You're the innocent one.
Guess I'm too confused to think.
She lifts his face in her hands.
Don't worry, Charlie. I've never
hurt a man.
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.
Hope ya come hungry.
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.
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
I'm glad ya come.
What's with the banquet? This is
supposed to be a private meet.
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.
You boys carryin' pieces?
You tryin' ta tell me something? I
don't come to a meet with a weapon
unless it's with an enemy.
See if these two are my friends.
Catania frisks them. Masseria grabs the pork loin and bites
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.
You're a smart boy, Charlie, but
there's somethin' you ain't learned
yet. A man needs a family.
I know. When the storm hits, it don't
pay to be caught outside.
I got a place for you. In my family...
or in the cemetery.
Never threaten me, Boss.
Masseria's only response is a cold stare.
But yeah, I'll join up.
Beaming with pleasure, Masseria picks up another pastry.
Under the right conditions.
Masseria's enthusiasm fades as he chews on the pastry.
I'm number two. Above everybody but
you, including Catania here.
Catania bristles. After a moment's hesitation, Masseria nods.
We get a fair piece of all the action,
and everything from me and my
associates goes into the pot.
Masseria nods again.
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.
YOU FUCKIN' WEASEL! YOU STUPID SHIT
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
regards the tantrum with amused detachment.
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.
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
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.
I guess we got a deal.
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.
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
Charlie lays a friendly hand on the shoulder of Tommy Reina.
We will maintain a special
relationship with Tommy Reina and
his boys in the Bronx. Treat them as
Charlie rises out of his seat and circles the table.
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.
What about Lansky and Siegel?
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
The guys all laugh.
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.
I know this girl works for Seventh
Avenue Fashions as a bookkeeper.
And you're pokin' this sister so
sweet, she's gonna help you nab the
Everybody laughs but Vito.
They got some old man who picks up
at the bank every Friday.
I looked at the job last year. That
geezer ain't workin' alone.
I figured we could hit 'em on Thirty-
Traffic's crazy at that hour. How
you gonna get out of there?
Vito has no ready reply. Joe the Boss leaps in.
This business is about taking risks.
Calculated risks. But Boss, this one
Charlie's contradiction of the Boss sends a wave of concern
through the room.
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.
That's right. You bastards won't do
me no good in jail.
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.
Come on, what's the problem?
Lansky shakes his head "no". Shrugs noncommittally.
It's nothin'. I'm gettin' married.
Married? To Anna?
You ain't got her in trouble?
No. We ain't even...
Well, good. Woman like that you don't
have to keep an eye on.
Guess I'm not a single type guy.
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
We're going to Atlantic City for the
I'll talk to Nucky. Get you set up
like the fuckin' Prince of Wales.
I been thinkin'...
Good. 'Cause every time you start
thinkin', we end up makin' money.
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.
Like a party for all our friends.
Italians, Jews, Irish. One big party.
Course, some guys don't get along.
Like Don Maranzano.
And if we don't invite Maranzano, we
can't invite Masseria. Guys don't
wanna be choosin' sides.
I'll handle the Boss.
So we end up with everybody but the
two Bosses, at our meet. We ain't
sayin' we're the leaders, but we're
How soon can we pull this off?
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.
Your honeymoon, Meyer?
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.
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
Who is Meyer to have such friends?
Anna's Mother nods to Masseria.
Look at his hands. A common butcher,
fat from too much meat.
Anna's Father shrugs.
Mama. Meyer's a man of liberal
FROM A CORNER OF THE LIVING ROOM
Gay stands with Charlie, eyeing Anna piteously.
You could have stopped him.
Ya never tell a guy about a broad.
So you all make the same mistakes?
Gives us something in common.
Gay plucks Charlie's champagne glass from his hand.
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.
Tommy tells me that Capone's coming
in from Chicago.
He's trying to make it.
He'll think something's wrong I ain't
He'll know you were smart enough to
stay away, Boss.
What the fuck does that mean?
You know that if you come, we gotta
So fuck him. I don't care anymore.
Let him come.
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.
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.
And that shitloader Maranzano don't
even get a fuckin' invite.
Charlie taps himself on the chest.
Don't I make the Boss look good?
Masseria laughs and slaps Charlie across the back.
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
Mr. and Mrs. Michael Land. We're in
the Presidential Suite.
The Clerk betrays himself with a slight, condescending smile.
Of course, Mr. Land. If you could
sign in please. And you, sir?
Charlie catches the Clerk's attitude, but plays it cool.
Mr. and Mrs. Charles Luther.
You wouldn't be related to the Bryn
Mawr Luthers, now would you?
Charlie fixes the Clerk with a murderous stare.
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.
I ain't stayin' in a hotel with no
Capone steps out of the car, decked out in a flamboyant style.
Bugsy gestures for Capone to cool it.
Wassa matter? Some Ziegfeld shiksa
you're bangin' convert ya?
Didn't Nucky tell you about the deal
with the hotel?
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
Had it custom made.
So comforting to know there's only
Capone extends a hand across the counter.
Mista Albert Caper.
The Clerk reluctantly shakes his hand.
Excuse me, Mr. Caper.
The Clerk disappears, then reappears trailing the 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...
I ain't no fuckin' kike!
I'm sorry, sir. Our clientele is
restricted to White Anglo-Saxons.
And I ain't no nigger either!
Sir, we do not use such names at our
Capone lifts the manager's tie onto the counter and fingers
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.
You own a hotel, sir?
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.
A fine establishment, Mr. Caper.
Capone YANKS the tie, pulling the manager closer.
And the name ain't Caper.
The House Detective lays a hand on Capone's shoulder.
Look, buddy. What's the big idea?
Releasing the Manager's tie, Capone turns around.
Mister Capone! Excuse me.
Behind them, the Manager falls in a dead faint.
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
BUGSY SIEGEL AND MOE DALITZ
walk as the surf washes over their feet.
We get together, we can tell those
greedy Scotsmen what we're gonna pay
for their whiskey.
Makes sense. But who's the Boss?
There ain't no Boss.
and the gentle giant, ALBERT SCALISE, enter the frame as
Siegel and Dalitz exit.
But I don't understand. Is this a
Sicilian operation? A Calabrian
operation? A Jew operation?
It's an American operation. Everybody
gets a vote.
But who's the Boss?
Costello shakes his head in frustration.
There ain't no Boss.
Scalise looks skeptically to Costello.
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.
We have a commission. If there's a
dispute over territory, the commission
Tell me something, Meyer. How can
you get up at dawn to walk on the
beach if you're on your honeymoon?
The commission don't decide how I
spend my honeymoon.
Hey, I ignore my wife too. But on
our honeymoon I paid attention.
Not another word.
CHARLIE ENTERS THE FRAME
his arm around the shoulder of 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!
You've got the public upset, Al.
But you know I never killed nobody
that didn't deserve it.
When the people get so upset, our
politician friends gotta listen.
What are ya tellin' me, Charlie?
Charlie stops and grips Capone by both shoulders.
We're asking you to go to prison.
But I've never served a day.
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.
Minimum security. You'll have
everything but broads.
Not wanting to face up to this, Capone avoids Charlie's gaze.
Al, you owe me one.
Capone kicks the sand.
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.
Civilian gets blown away, cops come
to me for answers.
MAD DOG COLL
You own the motherfuckin' police!
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
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.
IN CHARLIE'S OFFICE
Vito sticks his head through the door.
Boss wants you right away.
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
Where we headed?
Wassa matter, Mr. Big Shot. Don't
have time for my business no more?
Boss, I got all the time you need.
I know about you.
Ignoring the taunt, Luciano turns and looks out the window.
And what went on your little party
in Atlantic City. I got ears.
That little party's gonna make you a
MONEY DON'T MEAN SHIT!
Didn't know you felt that way.
Masseria hauls off and backhands Charlie across the face.
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.
You and Vito are gonna pull that
payroll job. Right now.
You gotta plan these things.
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.
Go ahead, Charlie. We can always
fight this out in Hell.
Charlie lifts the pistol off his lap and trains it on the
You're wasting my time, Charlie.
Battling his every instinct, Charlie lowers the pistol and
slips it into his jacket.
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.
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
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.
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
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
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
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
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.
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.
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.
Bastard didn't even show.
He's hidin'. Word's out Tommy Reina's
goin' over ta Maranzano.
Get word to Maranzano. I want a meet.
Alone. On neutral turf.
Lansky shoots Charlie a skeptical look.
After all this time I'd think you'd
know me better, Meyer.
It's not myself I'm worried about.
I'll do fine.
Maranzano wants you dead.
Yeah. But he needs me alive.
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.
If it's a blessing you need I'd
suggest the ablutions of the Holy
Luciano turns away from the window. Impatient.
Who first? And when?
TACTICS! Always tactics!
Recovering his composure, Rothstein continues.
Talk English. Okay? I did lousy at
The Big Picture.
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.
So change it.
This strikes Charlie like a prophecy from Delphi.
Bring order out of chaos. If you
lead... they'll follow.
And what do you want out of this?
A peaceful and prosperous retirement.
EXT: STATEN ISLAND FERRY - NIGHT
Charlie leans over the railing, staring down at the garbage
being pulled in the wake of the ferry.
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
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
Tell me, my son. Why did you go with
Giuseppe? He's not our kind.
I found that out.
We learn from life.
That's why I'm here.
Coming with me will be a delicate
matter. We will work it out. But
Maranzano grasps Charlie's hands.
Conditions have changed. Some people
have become too powerful.
I'll take care of the Boss.
His hands tighten around Charlie's.
Not Masseria. The Jews.
Charlie pulls back, but Maranzano holds firm to his hands.
If you give him the chance, Lansky
will betray you like Judas.
I don't fuck my partners.
No worry, Charlie. I will kill them
for you. No one will know.
Charlie pulls himself free from Maranzano's grasp.
At first, it will hurt you. But you
will come to understand and we will
be strong together.
You're fuckin' crazy. You're all
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.
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
and the men converge on Charlie. Working him over with belts,
clubs, and fists. Not a sound escapes from between Charlie's
One of the men lights up a cigarette, slipping it under his
bandana to smoke.
One word, and all this will end.
Charlie stares at Maranzano, then croaks his response.
Maranzano shakes his head and nods to the man smoking
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
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
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.
NO! Let him live to see what the
Jews have cost him.
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.
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.
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.
I booked passage to London.
My friends have a country house we
can use for a while.
Angry, Charlie throws the damp washcoth in her face.
What the hell is wrong with you!
Gay struggles to hold back her tears.
If I look weak now, it's over.
I'm very sorry... I didn't...
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.
You're lookin' better already.
Charlie cuts off the laughter when he shouts over his
Where's the morphine!
Costello and Lansky follow Siegel into the room.
You're getting' 10 cc's
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
Charlie grasps Gay's hand, then reacts to the needle.
You bastards, I said twenty!
It'll just be a few minutes.
I NEED THE TWENTY!
But Charlie realizes that his protests are to no avail.
Fuck you all.
Losing her composure, Gay runs from the room. Charlie, calls
But she's gone. Costello pushes the door shut behind her.
Everybody's talkin' about ya, Charlie.
First time anybody ever got took for
a ride and lived.
Guess I'm just lucky.
That's just what they're calling ya
pal. Lucky Luciano.
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.
You got men on Profaci's place?
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.
Tommy Reina's gone over to Maranzano,
but so far Masseria ain't lifted a
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.
We can get the war started tomorrow,
but it won't be pretty.
What you mean? Tommy ain't done
Maranzano will think Masseria ordered
the hit, and won't have no choice
but to start the war.
Why's it gotta be Tommy!
Masseria won't have any choice but
to trust you. And as long as we keep
the Boss alive, Maranzano can't win
Don't touch Tommy until Masseria
goes after Profaci.
JESUS CHRIST WILL YA LISTEN TO ME!
Now he has their attention.
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!
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.
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
Yeah. And no more Tommy Reina.
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
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.
I'm startin' ta think Profaci's losin'
it. Been here three weeks and he
ain't given us a look.
INT: LUCIANO'S APARTMENT - DAY
Charlie lays in bed, propped up on pillows, out of his casts.
Masseria's tryin' ta find a way around
ya. But his patience won't hold out
How's Bugsy doin'?
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
Gay tries to squirm away from Charlie, but he grabs her hand.
A lot of shit came out of me in the
hospital. I'm sorry you got hit by
You must be feeling better, if you're
looking for sex again.
Charlie twists her arm, and Gay yelps in pain.
I meant just what I said.
Charlie tosses her arm away from him in disgust. Gay softens.
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.
That's why I understand you.
She moves close to Charlie, rubbing a hand across his chest.
Would it be painful for you?
It always is.
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
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.
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.
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.
Frankie? Is that you? What the hell's
Deliveryman had the wrong address.
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
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.
Yeah. I got time.
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.
Jeez, Bugsy. Ya like ta scared the
crap outta me.
Just wanted ta say hello.
As they shake hands, Siegel seems reluctant to let go.
Know something Tommy? You're a mensch.
That a Jew compliment?
Best we got.
Awww... deep down I'm a bastard, but
when ya got eight kids ya can't make
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.
Take any one ya like.
Kinda early for Christmas, Bugs.
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.
Ya got a eye for a tool.
Siegel tilts the barrel toward his own temple.
Blow a fella's brains clean out.
Reina laughs uneasily as Siegel pulls the gun from his head.
You're fuckin' crazy.
But only on purpose, Tommy.
This is nice. I mean it.
Siegel taps his chest over his heart.
From here, Paisan.
A shy smile flickers across Tommy's face.
See ya around.
Reina slips the shotgun under his coat, and turns to go.
Reina turns around and stares up the barrel of a pistol Siegel
has leveled at him.
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.
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.
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
OUTSIDE THE THIRD LIMO
Charlie's Bodyguards lead a reluctant Catania back toward
the apartment building as Luciano and Lansky climb into the
Sonny, you better hope you Boss needs
you more than he wants me dead.
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
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.
NO! Get away you dirty bastard!
The dog jumps away from the mattress, moving right, then
left, determined to avoid the blows.
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.
INT: STAKE-OUT APARTMENT - SAME
Hearing cars on the street, the Young Tough runs to the
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
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.
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
The worms'll be feastin' on that fat
gut of yours before Charlie Luciano
shows his ass.
That's just my problem.
If I wanted ta kill ya, I woulda
done it long ago. It's not like you
ain't given me reason.
I'm still the Boss of All the Bosses!
And you'll do what I say!
So tell me when I ain't done it.
How can I trust you when you look at
me like that?
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.
Tell me, Charlie. Please.
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.
So today, maybe I don't kill you Mr.
INT: APARTMENT FOYER - DAY
Luciano, Lansky, and Masseria stand aside in the elevator,
allowing the Guards to move ahead into the foyer.
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.
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
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
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
IN THE FOYER - MASSERIA
moves cautiously toward the door, where Charlie stands, as
the Guards outside shout confused instructions to one another.
These fools would have me dead.
Anything, Charlie. Tell me what you
Charlie grabs Masseria playfully by the back of his fat neck,
then kisses him Sicilian style, full on the lips.
EXT: THE BRONX ZOO - DAY
A cold, overcast day. The place nearly deserted. Luciano,
Lansky, Siegel, and Costello wait in front of the lions'
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.
Even the beasts of the earth know
who rightfully reigns.
They do what I tell 'em.
Salvatore. Always holding himself
You and me both. Sal-va-to-re.
Maranzano stiffens as Charlie spits out his name like a curse.
We must be friends, Charlie.
Keep my terms and I won't be your
The terms will be mine.
The guy doin' the job names the price.
If you don't like it, you can kill
I will be the Boss of All Bosses.
What makes you think I give a damn
about that Sicilian crap?
He looks around to his partners,
Tell it to the Calabrian. Tell it to
You disrespect our tradition.
Boss, we got our own tradition. We
call it treatin' your friends right,
and not bein' a pig for every scrap
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.
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.
I am sorry for what I had to do.
Luciano pulls out of the embrace, struggling to be civil.
Forget it. That's past.
No matter what you say to me
Salvatore, you are my bambino.
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.
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.
What are ya thinkin'?
Joe Profaci. Carlo Gambino. Vinnie
Mangano. Joe Bananas. They all gotta
You can't fuck with them. They're
heads of families!
They're friends of our enemy.
Take one of 'em out, and they'll all
line up against us.
Not if they all die at once.
This sets Masseria back in his chair.
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.
Every successor will owe his loyalty
to us. Together we take out Maranzano,
and each family gets a piece of his
A mother-fuckin' peace conference.
Masseria HOWLS with laughter. Charlie nods toward the Guards.
We gotta talk in private. I got a
friend in Coney Island who's gonna
open his restaurant just for us.
But that's an hour's drive.
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.
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.
Ya did good. I ain't seen the Boss
so happy in weeks.
Look at this boy. He hardly eats.
Like that fella killed Caesar.
Yeah. Mean and hungry lookin'.
When ya got all that blood workin'
in your belly, it ain't upstairs
where it needs to be.
The kid just called me stupid.
Not stupid. Fat.
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.
Okay I leave you alone?. I want to
take a walk on the beach.
Charlie looks at his watch.
Sure. But ya got a deck a cards? I
wanna play some Klob.
Come on, Charlie. We got business.
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.
So, smarty-pants, ya can't even beat
an ignorant old man.
Charlie tosses in his hand. Checks his watch again.
An ignorant, old, fat man. But I'll
get ya next hand, after I take a
As Charlie gets up, Masseria pushes his chair back.
Charlie pulls out a pistol and trains it on the Boss.
One move pardner, and you're a dead
You can't kill me. You gave your
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.
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,
MASSERIA LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY
his belly jiggling under his shirt. He shouts to Charlie.
Hurry up, Charlie. You're missin'
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
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.
Operator. I need the police.
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.
Mr. Luciano saw nothing. He was in
the men's room at the time of the
shooting, washing his hands.
That's a lie!
The Captain tries to hurry Charlie through the crowd.
You fellas want the true facts?
The reporters yell, "Yeah!", "Let him talk!".
I wasn't washin' my hands. I was
takin' a piss!
The reporters roar with laughter.
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.
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.
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
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
The audience responds with enthusiastic applause.
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.
Each of you will be part of one of
the five families, and the Capo for
each family will report personally
The men on the dais stand as he introduces them.
Please pay your respects to our noble
leaders. Mr. Thomas Gagliano. Mr.
Joseph Bonnano. Mr. Joseph Profaci.
Mr. Vincent Mangano.
Maranzano turns toward Charlie.
And Mr. Salvatore Luciano, who will
supervise the entire operation under
The audience SHOUTS it's approval. Maranzano smiles uneasily
as Charlie acknowledges the reception.
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.
Mad Dog Coll's in town on a job.
Who hired the bastard?
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.
I am your Papa now.
INT: LUCIANO APARTMENT - NIGHT
Luciano, Costello, Siegel and Lansky huddle in the living
room, still in their evening wear.
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.
There's a way. We just ain't thinkin'
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
I'm doin' business here!
Grabbing a bottle of Scotch, Charlie thrusts it at Gay.
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.
I'm gettin' more like my old man
Gay rolls over, teary eyed, as Charlie sits down next to
I'm gonna lose you, Charlie.
It'll all be over tomorrow. No more
wars. No more killin'. Just livin'
normal like everybody else.
You'll be stuck with me for good.
Gay pulls herself into his embrace, wanting to believe it.
Your friends in London still have
that house in the country?
Gay shakes her head "yes".
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.
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.
Meyer, ain't anybody ever told you
ya look more like a bookkeeper than
a fuckin' mobster?
What's your problem?
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
Is there a fuckin' point comin' up
Seein' he loved the experience so
much, I think we outta give him the
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.
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
DOWN THE HALLWAY
The door to the stairway cracks open. Mad Dog Coll peers
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
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
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.
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
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
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.
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
Whatever the department can do, Frank.
Let me know.
Just let the press boys think
Charlie's ridin' the hearse.
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.
Park Terrace Hotel.
Herman Coll, please.
I'm sorry, but we have no Mr. Coll
Charlie hangs up. Dials the next number out of the book.
Herman Coll, please.
I don't find a Mr. Coll in our
registry, are you sure...
Charlie hangs up. Dials the next number listed.
Herman Coll, please.
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.
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.
MAD DOG COLL
I'm comin' for my twenty thousand.
Luciano is dead?
MAD DOG COLL
Open a window. Every newsboy in town's
screamin' about it.
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
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.
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.
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.
What about a .45?
Coll blinks, not believing his eyes.
Just goes ta show, Mad Dog. Don't
believe everything ya read in the
"Mad Dog" suddenly looks like a rabbit caught in the
headlights on an oncoming car.
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
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.
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.
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
MAD DOG COLL
425 Park Avenue.
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.
INT: MARANZANO'S INNER OFFICE - DAY
Maranzano sits at his desk. Two Bodyguards hover by the door.
His intercom buzzes.
What is it, Grace?
There are some men here from the
Internal Revenue. They say they need
to speak to you personally.
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.
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.
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
We don't want to disturb your
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
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.
Kill them! Kill them!
MAD DOG COLL
What's it worth to ya, Boss?
MAD DOG COLL
Anything ain't a very hard number.
One hundred thousand. No... three
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
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
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.
Up here, Boss.
That ain't exactly been the lucky
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.
Maybe you better hear what I got to
Whatever you say, Boss.
No, Al. Whatever we say. We're all
Bosses here. We don' need another.
Come on, Charlie. We gotta have a
top guy. Otherwise these wars ain't
never gonna stop.
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.
Who'll make the rules?
We'll make 'em, and we'll enforce
'em. All of us. Together. We all get
one vote. Includin' me.
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
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.
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.
You wanna be Boss, Joe?
Profaci lifts his hand up.
Julius Caesar never took no vote.
And maybe that's why he ended up
dead in the streets of Rome.
The men LAUGH and Profaci joins in.
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.
Why should you be payin' me when
we're all equals?
You scare me, Charlie.
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
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
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.
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