Чёрный день

Человек, с которым

мы встретимся — дьявол.

Меня зовут Мосли. Освальд Мосли.

Вы привлекли моё внимание.

Майкл Грей.

Ты валял дурака в Америке

и просадил там все деньги кузена.

И бедный старик Артур Шелби.

Его жену видели с другим мужчиной.

Горите в аду, Острые козырьки!

Если ты едешь в Англию, я с тобой.

Хочу познакомиться с твоей семьёй.

Нет, не хочешь.

Мистер Томас,

это самый чистый опиум в Европе.

250 тысяч фунтов.

Нужно просто

передержать товар здесь неделю.

Я голосую против, Том.

Кто голосует за?

Предложение одобрено.

Дело в вакантном месте, Эйда.

Дело в моём месте. В моём троне.

Кто-то хочет отобрать мою корону.

Думаю, это мог быть Майкл.

Мистер Шелби, меня зовут капитан Свинг.

Майкл, твой родственник заключал сделки

с людьми, которые хотят тебя убить.

Я делаю это ради тебя, Томми.

Время пришло.

Ты сам знаешь.

Дай угадаю…

«Не шутите, блядь,

с Острыми козырьками».

Будет война, один из вас умрёт.

Но кто именно, я сказать не могу.

Я сделаю то, что должен, Пол.

Убить… и убить.

У меня есть работёнка для тебя.

Я застрелю Освальда Мосли.

Уничтожь человека —

уничтожишь и послание.

Пора нам уходить со сцены, старик.

Китайцы, итальянцы.

Мосли ничего не знал!

Ничего не знал!

Кто?

ОСТРЫЕ КОЗЫРЬКИ

6 СЕЗОН, 1 СЕРИЯ

Поговори со мной.

Возможно, я нашёл его, Артур.

Нашёл человека,

которого не могу победить.

— Мосли.

— Не знаю.

Я, блядь, не знаю.

Это бессмыслица.

Давай…

Давай зайдём внутрь.

Разберёмся, выпьем.

Мне надо пройтись.

Работа сделана, Томми.

Сделана.

Мы можем просто уйти.

Легко и просто.

Осталось всего ничего.

Артур вытащил патроны.

На обратном пути.

Говорит, тебя стошнило на перекрёстке.

Ты больше даже не солдат, Томми.

Не проверил оружие.

Не солдат ты — трус.

Я слышала, как ты нажал на курок.

Бросил семью и даже не попрощался.

Если ты хочешь уйти,

вот твои проводники.

Мама.

Тебя они пропустили.

А меня не пускают.

Будто может быть какой-то иной исход.

Алло.

Мистер Шелби, полагаю, вам интересно,

кто предотвратил вчерашнее покушение.

Посмотрите в окно,

и вы увидите знак перемирия.

Волонтёры принесли тела ваших,

чтобы вы похоронили их по-своему.

Вчерашняя операция

была проведена бойцами

из трёх дублинских отрядов

Ирландской республиканской армии.

Мы хотим, чтобы мистер Мосли остался жив.

Большего вам знать не нужно.

Вам также стоит быть в курсе,

что мы не только спасли Мосли.

Мы кое-что поменяли

в структуре вашей организации.

С тех пор,

как вы начали строить империю,

у вас был костыль,

на который вы опирались.

Вчера мы выбили этот костыль.

Теперь вы будете опираться на нас.

Вы должны понять, мистер Шелби,

что смерть ваших людей — лишь ваша вина,

потому что вы не понимаете

границ своих возможностей.

Мама…

Всё это случилось

из-за амбиций и планов

одного лишь человека.

И я клянусь богом:

чего бы это ни стоило,

сколько бы мне ни пришлось солгать…

я отомщу Томми Шелби.

ЧЕТЫРЕ ГОДА СПУСТЯ

ОСТРОВ МИКЕЛОН

НЬЮФАУНДЛЕНД,

ФРАНЦУЗСКАЯ ТЕРРИТОРИЯ

Месье.

Месье!

Это остров Микелон.

5 ДЕКАБРЯ 1933 ГОДА

Комиссар сказал, что даст нам два часа.

Кто-то может умереть.

Если это буду я,

пусть позвонят моему брату.

ОТЕЛЬ «РОБЭР»

Меня зовут Томас Шелби.

Я бронировал номер для переговоров.

Вчера какие-то пьяницы мне разбили окно.

В ваш номер налетели голуби.

Жена сейчас там прибирается.

Прошу извинить. Я подожду.

Налить что-нибудь?

Стакан воды, пожалуйста.

Люди здесь пьяные и злые,

поэтому и окна разбитые.

Понимаете?

Половина людей здесь

промышляли контрабандой.

До сегодняшнего дня.

Остальные занимались ремонтом лодок.

ЧЁРНЫЙ ДЕНЬ ДЛЯ МИКЕЛОНА:

В ПОЛНОЧЬ ОТМЕНЯЕТСЯ СУХОЙ ЗАКОН

Взяли-ка бы вы эту воду

и прогулялись в коридор.

Дай ещё бутылку виски.

Ты ж работаешь на поставщика виски?

ТОМАС ШЕЛБИ

«КОМПАНИЯ ШЕЛБИ», ИМПОРТ И ЭКСПОРТ

Я здесь по личному делу.

Где французский выучил?

Во Франции.

Я многому научился во Франции.

Остров кишит вашими офицерами, блядь.

Закрывают наши склады.

Лишают людей работы.

Жан-Клод, угомонись уже.

Десять лет мы возили виски в Бостон.

Теперь у нас ни хуя.

А тут садишься

и заказываешь блядский стакан воды.

Это шутка такая?

Нет.

Я не пью алкоголь,

поэтому заказал воду.

Жан-Клод, отстань от человека, пожалуйста.

Ты, друг мой, поднимешь за нас тост.

Поднимешь бокал

за бедных людей Микелона,

чьи жизни ты разрушил, ублюдок.

Пей.

Эй!

Пей.

Ты не выйдешь отсюда,

пока не поднимешь тост

за людей Микелона.

Хорошо.

Хорошо.

Я понимаю, что сегодня

вы особенно озлоблены.

Но если бы вы прочли

мою визитку, то увидели бы,

что это просто недоразумение.

Я был терпелив,

потому что понимаю вашу ситуацию,

но теперь сядьте

и дайте мне дочитать газету.

Вот это он хорош, а?

Давайте я всё объясню,

пока мы не зашли слишком далеко.

Я не выпью за вас,

потому что четыре года назад

я отказался от алкоголя.

Вот сука.

Нет.

Не надо.

С тех пор, как я отказался от алкоголя,

я стал спокойнее и миролюбивее.

Анри, я услышала стрельбу.

Заходите.

Порой, когда возникают

личные конфликты,

я могу вернуться

к своим старым методам.

Если бы это произошло сегодня,

это и правда был бы

«чёрный день» в истории Микелона.

Скоро приедут мои гости.

Нужно, чтобы номер был готов.

Не проводите?

Извините, где отель «Робэр»?

Они думают,

что мы отберём у них свой виски.

Мы опоздали.

Он всегда приходит раньше. Идём.

Будет война. Один из вас умрёт.

Кто из вас — сказать не могу.

Привет, Томми.

Там мужику лицо зашивают.

Возникло недопонимание.

Привет, Майкл.

Я не был уверен, что подумаю,

когда снова увижу тебя, Том.

Да?

И что ты думаешь?

С тех пор, как моя мать

умерла четыре года назад,

мы с Томми ни разу не говорили.

Мы оба были заняты.

Ты был занят тем,

что наказывал людей, которые её убили.

Знаешь, Майкл, когда имеешь дело

с очень могущественным врагом,

месть может занять много времени.

Приходится выжидать момент.

Этот момент настанет.

Но теперь у нас

есть общий рабочий интерес —

дурная кровь разбавится

временем и деловой мотивацией.

Хорошо, Томми. Мы жаждем узнать,

что ты хочешь нам рассказать.

Жду с нетерпением

нашей совместной работы.

Выглядишь очень хорошо.

Ты тоже.

Как семья?

Этот проектор —

подарок Чарли, мать его, Чаплина.

Он прислал его прямиком из Голливуда.

Сядьте и посмотрите фильм.

Боже. Нет, Элизабет,

перестань, ты поранишься.

Да, алло. Это таверна «Белл»?

Если цыган Джонни Догс там,

тогда передайте ему,

чтобы он пришёл к своим детям, мать его.

Сейчас Рождество. Семейный праздник.

Мам, я же смотрела.

Так, внимание.

Завтра мы с Руби и Чарльзом

сядем на большой корабль

и отправимся в Канаду, к папе.

Поэтому мы празднуем Рождество раньше.

Мы предупредили Деда Мороза,

так что он принёс подарки заранее.

Да!

Эйда, где, блядь, Дед Мороз?

Не знаю. Должен был уже прийти.

— Да.

— Где ты, блядский Санта?

Нет!

Ты убил меня.

У меня пушка. Лучше беги!

Беги!

Джентльмены,

сегодня последний день сухого закона.

Я верю, что это не конец —

для таких, как мы,

этот день означает начало.

Новую возможность.

Я хочу разделить возможность

с теми, кому я могу доверять.

На протяжении 12 лет

жители этого острова

занимались контрабандой виски,

занимались навигацией кораблей

и учились избегать

американских пограничников.

Но теперь, когда сухой закон отменили,

перевозкой будут заниматься

капиталисты из Нью-Йорка,

Бостона и Торонто.

Однако…

когда закрывается одна дверь,

открывается другая.

Мы можем использовать преимущества

отлаженной системы острова Микелон

и предложить некоторым экипажам

возможность продолжать работу.

Но теперь с другим грузом.

Налить?

Нет.

Теперь об этом узнает весь остров.

На этом острове

нет осуждения, нет морали.

Только до пизды лодок,

которым нечего и некуда перевозить.

Микелон находится

за пределами территориальных вод

как Америки, так и Канады,

вот его и использовали

для перегона виски.

Формально это территория Франции.

ФБР и канадская полиция

не имеют тут юрисдикции.

Откуда товар?

Я налаживал связь

с поставщиком из Белфаста

на протяжении четырёх лет.

Мы решили, что пришло время

ворваться на американский рынок.

Это, друг мой, лучший опиум в мире.

Доставлен из Шанхая

на мой склад в Ливерпуле.

Майкл, когда дело касается

наркоты, — ты главный эксперт.

Я доверяю ему.

А как же французская полиция?

Я поддерживаю связь

с начальником полиции в Микелоне.

Мы сражались

на одной стороне во Франции.

Мы считаем себя боевыми товарищами.

Я предложил товарищу

12 миллионов франков,

если лодки между Бостоном

и Микелоном продолжат курсировать.

Нужно передать предложение

дяде Джеку в Бостоне.

Надеюсь, мы встретимся

после этого разговора

с Джеком Нельсоном —

дядей твоей жены, Майкл.

Этот парень знает слишком много.

Если он будет говорить

такое вслух, то может умереть.

Передавайте моё почтение

мистеру Нельсону.

Наши с ним истории похожи.

Прошлое Джека Нельсона забыто.

Не забыто. Кануло, блядь, в Лету.

Нет, не кануло.

Просто записи стёрты, как и у меня.

Передавайте ему моё почтение, ладно?

Ты не притронулся к выпивке, Том.

С тех пор как мы виделись

в последний раз, Майкл,

я поработал над собой.

Теперь я понимаю, что виски —

топливо для громких двигателей

в голове.

Ну ты и сказанул!

Смотрите-ка, у нас тут поэт!

Я читаю поэзию, но пока не пишу.

Туман сгущается, говорят.

Пора валить,

пока он нас не запер на острове.

Просто пойми.

Дядя Джек решает всё, понял?

А я решаю,

когда заканчивается собрание.

Так что сиди, пока я не разрешу.

Умничка.

Выпей, блядь, не ломайся.

Хороший мальчик.

Расскажи нам стих, пока ты тут.

Хотите услышать стих?

Послушать поэзию?

А ты, тупоголовый?

В ярость друг меня привёл

Гнев излил я, гнев прошёл

Враг обиду мне нанёс

Я молчал.

Но гнев мой рос

«Дерево яда», Уильям Блэйк.

Вы о нём не слышали.

Собрание окончено.

И между прочим,

мой друг из полиции сказал мне,

что говорил с ФБР.

Ему передали, что в вашей организации

завёлся информатор в южном Бостоне.

Я рассказываю это из солидарности

и соображений корпоративной гигиены.

Держи, Майкл.

Берегись мужчины

с татуировкой кровавого сердца,

на котором написано «Мария».

Доброго вам дня, джентльмены.

В этот раз не сжигайте.

Каждая катастрофа —

это новая возможность.

Артур.

Ну же, давай.

Боже.

Если бы Полли была здесь,

она бы такого не допустила.

Давай, Артур. Вставай.

Артур!

Я, может, и не Полли,

но я твоя, блядь, сестра!

Ты поклялся, что перестанешь принимать.

Это Рождество, Эйда. Рождество.

Да, Рождество.

Где, сука, сраные подарки?

Я сейчас, секундочку…

Отлично.

Мой брат обдолбался.

Каждый день — новый вопрос без ответа.

Худо без добра.

Я без понятия, что делать.

Блядь.

Я люблю тебя, Эйда.

Дети! Приходил Дед Мороз!

Дед Мороз!

Что ты просил?

Что тут?

Дед Мороз опять застрял в камине?

На каком корабле вы добираетесь?

На самом лучшем и самом дорогом.

Мы приедем, и Томми скажет:

«Привет, Лиззи. Привет, дети».

И всё — этим мёртвым голосом.

Ладно тебе, Лиззи. У него отпуск.

Возможно, он изменился.

Даже в отпуске,

даже на вершине самой высокой горы

он будет таким же,

каким он стал, когда умерла Полли.

Нет больше ни Полли,

ни виски, ни Томми.

Соедините с детективом Лоуренсом,

отделение полиции гавани Сент-Джонса.

Я звоню с острова Микелон,

из офиса полиции.

Остров покидает корабль,

который направляется к границе.

Когда он доберётся

до гавани Сент-Джонса,

человек по имени Майкл Грей

пересядет на пароход до Бостона.

Слушайте внимательно.

Он в тёмном пальто, в синем костюме,

у него в руках чёрный портфель.

В этом портфеле —

пять фунтов чистейшего опиума.

Я честный гражданин.

Меня зовут мистер Джонс.

Не хочешь выпить, камрад?

Хочу.

Но я больше не пью.

Отчего же?

У меня есть дело.

Мне нужно свалить с острова.

Тебе сюда нельзя, Карл.

Ты ответишь?

Нет, я больше на него не работаю.

Это может быть что-то важное.

Поэтому я и не хочу отвечать.

Можно я отвечу?

Нет.

Алло?

Блядь.

Вы хоть знаете, кто это?

Ладно, вставай, Артур.

Эй, щекотно.

Его брат, Томас Шелби,

сказал не продавать ему опиум,

иначе он вырежет

его имя на вашей груди.

Штыком.

АРТУР ШЕЛБИ

НОРФОЛКОВСКАЯ ТЮРЬМА БОСТОНА

Ну что, какого хуя?

Я не могу ничего здесь обсуждать.

Я просто хотел

увидеть тебя, услышать тебя.

Стоило Томми Шелби

вернуться в твою жизнь,

и вот что происходит.

Никаких имён.

Извини. Давай называть его дьяволом.

Присядь.

Как Лоуренс?

Сам знаешь. Скучает по отцу.

Что, нахуй, произошло, Майкл?

Всё под контролем.

Под чьим контролем?

Серьёзно, под чьим,

блядь, контролем, Майкл?

Как и многое в этом городе,

всё в руках твоего дяди Джека.

Мне нужно, чтобы он снял

обвинение и выпустил меня.

Я уже поговорила с ним.

Он сказал,

что дьявол сделал предложение.

Томми Шелби хочет иметь дело

с Джеком Нельсоном?

Он хочет захватить Бостон?

Никто ничего не хочет захватить.

Всё под контролем.

Сделки совершаются

на более высоком уровне,

но на среднем уровне и на нижнем уровне

есть люди, которым нельзя доверять.

Майкл, это ебучая…

Заткнись и дослушай.

Томми сам предупредил

нас об информаторе.

Мы думаем, что информатор

сдал меня полиции.

Значит, план дьявола работает.

Зачем строить планы и поставки,

если это сложно провернуть?

Джина, сегодня в газете

напишут о трупе, который выловили

в бостонском канале.

У него была татуировка

кровоточащего сердца и надпись «Мария».

Выстрел в голову.

Да, знаю, я уже читала.

Его смерть — начало в цепочке смертей.

В нашем бизнесе

мы работаем с теми, кому доверяем.

Пока проходит зачистка,

держи всё при себе.

Ляпнешь что-нибудь не тому человеку —

и он тоже окажется в заливе.

А ты будешь его Марией.

Поняла?

Майкл, я хочу знать правду.

Нет, не так. Мне, блядь, нужна правда!

Почему ты снова с ним работаешь?

Джина, что ты хочешь

подарить Лоуренсу на Рождество?

В мире куча людей,

которые могли бы поставлять наркоту.

Почему именно он?

У меня есть незакрытый

вопрос с Томми Шелби.

Это возможность его закрыть.

Так что поговори со своим дядей,

чтобы он меня отсюда вытащил, нахуй.

Алло.

Кто?

Конечно, почему бы и нет?

Мне сказали,

что ты в городе, так что я подумала…

Такой маленький человек —

и такие большие успехи.

Тебе нравится джаз?

Нет.

Что будешь? Виски?

Стакан воды.

У меня нет воды. Что ещё ты пьёшь?

Я хочу передать сообщение дяде Джеку.

Томми, расслабься.

Выпей, блядь.

Знаешь, мой дядя

планирует купить лицензию

на продажу лучшего скотча

и ирландского виски.

Он прямо сейчас едет в Лондон,

чтобы закрыть эту сделку.

Каждая капля в каждом штате

будет приносить прибыль дяде Джеку.

Да, он могущественный

и очень впечатляющий человек.

Я видел его в молодости

на полицейских снимках,

а недавно — и в популярных журналах.

Думаю, он олицетворяет собой прогресс.

Да.

Пока ты не сказал,

что ты хочешь ему передать,

у меня есть для тебя от него сообщение.

Сделки не будет.

В Англии, когда кто-то находится

настолько близко к Томми Шелби,

они говорят: «Какой ужас…

какой соблазн

грохнуться на колени,

открыть рот и сказать:

"Да, сэр. Пожалуйста, сэр"».

А ты, значит, падаешь

на колени перед дядей Джеком?

Не перед Майклом.

Сделки не будет, мистер Шелби.

От тебя пахнет тюрьмой, Джина.

И ты слишком много выпила.

Да, но выпивка теперь легальна.

А твой белый порошок — нет.

У Джека есть друзья в правительстве.

Ты представляешь,

как высоко он взлетел?

На самый, блядь, верх.

А с белым порошком

на начищенных ботиночках

в американские президенты не избираются.

А именно туда он и метит.

Он не может так сильно рисковать

ради столь ничтожной сделки.

Возвращайся домой, парниша.

Пока-пока, мистер Шелби.

А ты ещё выпей, Джина.

Докинь цент дяде Джеку.

Не против, если я закурю?

Если это законно, то конечно.

Перед тем, как уйти, хочу рассказать,

что это я сдал Майкла полиции

и рассказал, что было в портфеле.

Из-за меня он в тюрьме.

Хотел подкинуть твоему дяде загадку.

Мужа его любимой племянницы

ловят с опиумом в Бостоне.

Что же ему делать?

Если он вмешается и освободит его,

то как это будет выглядеть

в Овальном кабинете?

А если он ничего не сделает,

то что скажет южный Бостон?

Пошёл ты.

Хорошо.

Оставайся.

Заключай сделки.

Да хоть умри, мне похуй.

Умереть от чьей руки, Джина?

Передай своему дяде,

что если он не хочет покупать мой опиум,

я продам его евреям восточного Бостона.

Малыш.

Ты хочешь начать ебучую войну?

С таким количеством опиума

баланс между ирландцами,

евреями и итальянцами

сдвинется в сторону востока.

У меня отличные связи

с семьёй из восточного Бостона.

Семья Соломонов.

Слыхала о них?

Если вы станете

общаться с нами на равных…

то, думаю, наши семьи хорошо сработаются.

Бывай, Джина.

Да?

Да, я приму звонок.

Привет, Лиззи.

Томми,

я по поводу Руби. Ей плохо.

У неё высокая температура.

Сейчас приходил врач.

Что он сказал?

Сказал, что это грипп,

но приедет ещё раз попозже.

Она кашляет, и…

Томми, он сказал,

что нам не стоит ехать.

Мы не сможем сесть на корабль.

Всё в порядке, Лиззи, не волнуйся.

Оставайтесь дома,

пока ей не станет лучше.

Можно с ней поговорить?

Она спит.

Тогда пускай спит.

Пускай спит.

Лиззи, у меня здесь всё ещё дела.

Давай забронируем новые билеты,

когда Руби станет лучше, хорошо?

Не страшно,

что вы не приедете на праздники.

Главное, что вы вообще приедете.

И когда я покончу с делами,

вы переедете с детьми сюда навсегда.

Будем только мы и свежий воздух Запада.

Я нашёл местечко в горах.

Там будет снег.

Скажи Руби, что я слеплю ей снеговика.

Давно она кашляет?

Несколько дней.

Она гуляла на улице

с детьми Джонни Дога.

Они носились у реки, было холодно.

Ты в порядке, Томми?

У тебя голос изменился.

Это простуда.

Я закончу с делами в Бостоне,

и на этом всё.

Я хочу просто…

взять Руби на руки и держать её.

Я скучаю по тому, какая она тяжёлая.

Я уже подарила ей подарки.

Она в восторге.

Но вечером у неё был жар.

Горячка.

Она всё бормотала…

Дети Джонни учили её

говорить на цыганском.

Скорее, учили её воровать.

Когда у неё была горячка,

она всё повторяла цыганские слова.

«Tickner maura, tickner maura,

o beng, o beng». Снова и снова.

Что, Лиззи?

Что ты сказала? Что Руби говорила?

«Tickner, tickner maura».

— Что-то такое.

— Она что-нибудь ещё говорила?

Какие-то ещё слова,

которые ты не поняла?

«O beng, o beng». Не знаю.

Нет, Лиззи, она сказала что-нибудь ещё?

Послушай, блядь, внимательно!

Я не знаю цыганский, Томми.

Не думаю.

Только это?

Да.

Она видела что-нибудь,

когда у неё был жар?

— Блядь.

— Лиззи, ответь на долбаный вопрос!

Она сказала, что видела человека.

Человека с зелёными глазами.

У неё была горячка. Жар.

Какая, нахуй, разница?

Послушай, Лиззи. Я возвращаюсь домой.

Томми, дорогой, это просто жар.

Послушай, я еду домой.

Приеду на следующей пароходе.

Не води её в школу, слышишь?

Не води её в школу и держи подальше от…

— Томми…

— Держи подальше от реки.

Не давай кататься на лошади.

Передай Джонни Догсу

и его жёнам слова, которые сказала Руби.

Ты меня слышишь?

Скажи старшей жене Джонни,

чтобы повесила Чёрную мадонну ей на шею.

И слушайся Эсмеральду, как врача.

Ты слышишь?

Ебучие цыганские штучки.

Ебучие цыганские штучки! Именно!

И приведи Кудряша.

Пусть останется

в стойле с лошадьми Руби.

И делай всё,

что скажут Джонни Догс и его жёны,

поняла?

Извини, Лиззи. Ты меня поняла?

Хорошо, я всё сделаю.

Хорошо. Я еду домой.

Полли?

Полли?

Они знают, что я пытаюсь выйти.

Полли…

они идут за мной.

Сукин ты сын.

Говоришь как американец, Майкл.

Мне придётся вернуться

в Англию пораньше,

так что давай по-быстрому, хорошо?

Ты просто всех наебал

и пытаешься слиться.

Нет, сделка в силе.

Джек Нельсон тоже сейчас в Англии.

В Лондоне и в Эдинбурге,

покупает лицензию на импорт.

Откуда ты, блядь, знаешь,

где находится Джек Нельсон?

У меня есть карта его передвижений.

Из его личной переписки.

Из писем президенту США

и его бесчисленным любовницам.

У меня есть контакты в его организации.

Ирландец с закладной —

мощный источник, Майкл.

Ты мертвец, Томми.

Ты, блядь, залез не туда.

Ты уже мёртв.

Ты грозился продать евреям.

И у меня есть знакомые в этой тюрьме.

Они присмотрят за тобой.

Мне не нужно,

чтобы за мной присматривали.

Джек Нельсон меня вытащит.

Да? Правда что ли?

Тут вот письмо.

Передай ему это письмо, хорошо?

Это письмо от секретаря президента,

который предлагает Джеку Нельсону,

чтобы ты ещё немного тут посидел.

Пока газеты не потеряют интерес, Майкл.

Шёл бы ты.

В конце концов тебя выпустят.

И мы с тобой сможем

продолжить наше дело.

Пять миллионов долларов

за отправку порошка.

Когда сделка будет закрыта,

сможем пожать руки

и разойтись как в море корабли, да?

Значит, ты так и не понял.

Когда моя мать умерла

из-за твоих амбиций,

ты не понял, что у тебя есть предел?

У меня нет предела.

И Майкл, между прочим —

судя по личному счёту Джека Нельсона,

он купил пять билетов

из Бостона в Ливерпуль.

Пять человек: его жена, его любовница,

сын президента, он сам и…

Джина Грей.

Джина возвращается в Лондон, Майкл.

Я с удовольствием покажу ей город.

Блядь! Ты ублюдок, Томми!

— Спиритс, ирландцы Бостона, дядя Джек.

— Ты дьявол, Томми Шелби!

— Ты чёртов дьявол!

— Я открыт к переговорам.

Переведено студией FOCS

при поддержке зрителей

В ПАМЯТЬ О ХЕЛЕН МАКРОРИ,

ИГРАВШЕЙ ПОЛЛИ ГРЕЙ

Перевод: Настасья Москвина

Редактура: Анастасия Цюпер

ЧЕТЫРЕ ГОДА СПУСТЯ

ОСТРОВ МИКЕЛОН

НЬЮФАУНДЛЕНД. ФРАНЦУЗСКАЯ ТЕРРИТОРИЯ.

ЭТО ОСТРОВ МИКЕЛОН.

5 ДЕКАБРЯ 1933 ГОДА

КОМИССАР ВЕЛЕЛ ДАТЬ НАМ ДВА ЧАСА.

КТО-ТО МОЖЕТ УМЕРЕТЬ.

ЕСЛИ ЭТО БУДУ Я, ПУСТЬ СООБЩАТ МОЕМУ БРАТУ.

ОТЕЛЬ "РОБЕР"

МЕНЯ ЗОВУТ ТОМАС ШЕЛБИ.

Я ЗАБРОНИРОВАЛ ЗАЛ ДЛЯ ПЕРЕГОВОРОВ.

НОЧЬЮ КАКИЕ-ТО ПЬЯНЧУГИ ВЫБИЛИ МНЕ СТЁКЛА.

ТЕПЕРЬ В ЗАЛ ЗАЛЕТАЮТ ГОЛУБИ.

МОЯ ЖЕНА ИХ ВЫГОНЯЕТ.

Я ПРИШЁЛ РАНЬШЕ. ПОДОЖДУ.

ЧЁРНЫЙ ДЕНЬ ДЛЯ МИКЕЛОНА

СУХОЙ ЗАКОН ОТМЕНЯЮТ В ПОЛНОЧЬ

МНЕ ЕЩЁ ОДНУ БУТЫЛКУ ВИСКИ.

РАБОТАЕШЬ НА ПРОИЗВОДСТВО ВИСКИ, ДА?

ШЕЛБИ КОМПАНИ ИНТЕРНЕШНЛ

ИМПОРТ И ЭКСПОРТ

Я ПРИБЫЛ СЮДА ПО ЛИЧНОМУ ДЕЛУ.

ГДЕ ТЫ ВЫУЧИЛ ФРАНЦУЗСКИЙ?

ВО ФРАНЦИИ.

ЖАН-КЛОД, ОСТАВЬ ЕГО В ПОКОЕ.

ЖАН-КЛОД, ПРОШУ, ОСТАВЬ ЕГО.

АНРИ, Я СЛЫШАЛА ВЫСТРЕЛЫ.

КАЖДАЯ КАТАСТРОФА - ЭТО ТАКЖЕ ВОЗМОЖНОСТЬ.

СОЕДИНИТЕ С ДЕТЕКТИВОМ ЛОРЕНСОМ

ИЗ ПОЛИЦИИ ГАВАНА СЕНТ-ДЖОН.

ХОЧЕШЬ ВЫПИТЬ, ДРУЖИЩЕ?

ПАМЯТИ ХЕЛЕН МАККРОРИ,

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛЬНИЦЫ РОЛИ ПОЛЛИ ГРЕЙ

TOMMY:

You've both met bad men before.

The man we're about to meet

is the devil.

My name's Mosley.

Oswald Mosley.

You've come to my attention.

Michael Gray.

You lost all your cousin's

money in America,

playing the fool.

And poor old Arthur Shelby.

His wife has been seen

with another man.

Ah!

May you Peaky Blinders all rot.

(GUNSHOT)

If you're going to England,

I'm coming with you.

- I want to meet your family.

- No, you don't.

Mr Thomas,

it is the purest opium

that has ever arrived

in Europe.

£250,000.

All we have to do

is keep it here for a week.

I vote against it, Tom.

Those in favour?

Motion carried.

Agh!

We're talking about

an empty chair, Ada.

My chair. My throne.

Someone wants my crown.

I think it might be Michael.

Mr Shelby, my name

is Captain Swing.

Michael, your kin,

was making deals

with the very men

who want you dead.

I'm doing this for you, Tommy.

It's time.

And you know it.

Let me guess.

Don't fuck

with the Peaky Blinders.

There will be a war,

and one of you will die.

But which one, I cannot tell.

I'll do what I have to do, Pol.

Kill...and kill.

I have a job for you.

I'm going to shoot

Oswald Mosley.

(LAUGHS)

Kill the man, kill the message.

(COMMOTION)

(SHOUTING)

I think it's about time

we got off the stage, old man.

The Chinese, the Italians...

Mosley knew nothing!

He knew nothing!

Who?!

ARTHUR: Talk to me.

Maybe I've found him...

...Arthur,

the man I can't defeat.

- Mosley.

- I don't know.

I don't fucking know.

Doesn't make sense.

Let's...

Let's go inside.

We'll work it out,

have a drink.

I need to walk.

The work's all done, Tommy.

It's all done.

We can walk away

from all of this.

It's so easy. It's so soft.

Such a small change.

(SCREAMS)

(GUN CLICKS)

(FOOTSTEPS SLOSH)

Arthur took the bullets out.

On the way back.

He said you stopped

at a crossroads to throw up.

You're not even a soldier

any more, Tommy.

You didn't check your weapon.

You're not a soldier,

you're a coward.

I heard you pull the trigger.

Leaving your family behind

without a goodbye...

If you still need a way out...

...here are six of them.

Mother.

They let you pass through.

They wouldn't let me pass.

As if there were to be

another consequence.

(PHONE RINGS)

(VEHICLE APPROACHES)

(RINGING CONTINUES)

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

Mr Shelby, I imagine

you're curious

as to who it was prevented

the assassination last night.

If you look out your window,

you'll see a flag of truce.

It's a unit of volunteers

bringing the bodies

of your dead to you,

to send to heaven

in your own way.

Last night's operation

was carried out by soldiers

from three Dublin brigades

of the Irish Republican Army.

We need to keep

Mr Mosley alive.

That's all you need to know.

Also, you should know

that saving Mosley's life

wasn't our only intervention

last night.

We've made some changes

to the structure

of your organisation.

Ever since you began

to build your empire...

...you've had a crutch

to lean on.

Last night, we kicked

away that crutch.

From now on, it will be us

that you lean on.

Please be aware, Mr Shelby,

that the deaths

of your people...

...are your own

responsibility...

..because you consistently fail

to understand

your own limitations.

(CROW CAWS)

(SIGHS)

(CROW CAWS)

(WIND CHIMES TINKLE)

Mum...

...it was the ambitions

and strategies

of one man that caused this.

And I swear in the name

of Almighty God...

...no matter what it takes,

no matter how many lies

I have to tell...

...I will take revenge on

Tommy Shelby.

(SHIP'S HORN BLARES)

Monsieur.

Monsieur!

(TRANSLATION)

J'arrive.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)

(BOTTLES CLINK)

You want a drink?

I'll have a glass of water,

please.

Windows got broke

because a lot of people here

are drunk and angry.

You know?

Half the men on this island

made their living

bootlegging till today.

The other half

fixed their boats.

Maybe you should take

your water into the hall.

Yeah, I learned

a lot of things in France.

Island is crawling with

you fucking commissary men.

Closing our warehouses down.

Throwing men out of work.

Ten years our boat ran whiskey

down the President Roads

to Boston.

Now we have fucking nothing.

And you sit in front of us

and order fucking water.

Is that meant to be a joke?

No.

I ordered water

because I no longer

drink alcohol...

...of any kind.

You, my friend...

...are going to drink a toast.

You will raise your glass to

the poor people of Miquelon,

whose lives you bastards

have destroyed.

Drink it.

Hey.

Drink.

You're not leaving this bar

until you have raised a toast

to the people of Miquelon.

OK.

OK.

I understand that,

today of all days,

you would be angry.

But if you'd have read my card

instead of burning it,

you would realise

that this

is a misunderstanding.

Now, I've been very patient,

given the circumstances,

but you need to sit down

and let me read my newspaper.

(SCOFFS)

Il est bon, lui, hein?

Before this goes any further,

please let me explain.

I will not drink your toast,

cos four years ago,

I forswore alcohol.

Putain.

No.

- (BELL DINGS)

- Don't.

Since I forswore alcohol,

I've become a calmer

and more peaceful person.

(FOOTSTEPS RACE)

Get in.

(SIGHS)

Sometimes,

in moments

of personal conflict...

...I can resort to my old ways.

If this were to happen now,

it would indeed be a black day

in Miquelon.

Now, my guests

will be arriving shortly.

I need to prepare the room.

Can you show me where?

(BELL DINGS)

Excusez-moi.

Où est L'Hôtel Robert?

(SPITS)

They think we're distillery men

here to take our whiskey back.

We're late. He's always early.

Let's go.

(WATCH TICKS)

(SIGHS)

(DOOR OPENS)

POLLY: There will be a war,

and one of you will die.

But which one, I cannot tell.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)

Hello, Tommy.

There's a man out there having

his face stitched back up.

That was a misunderstanding.

Hello, Michael.

I wasn't sure what I'd think

when I saw you again, Tom.

Oh, yeah?

What do you think?

Since my mother

passed away four years ago,

Tommy and I

haven't even spoken.

Well,

we've both been very busy.

You've been too busy to punish

the people who killed her.

You know, Michael,

when you're dealing

with a very powerful enemy,

taking revenge

sometimes requires time.

You have to...

...pick your moment.

That moment will come.

But now we have

a business interest in common,

and any bad blood will be

diluted by time

and a practical self-interest.

Well, Tommy, we're all keen

to hear what you have to say.

I'm very much looking forward

to working with you again,

Michael. You look very well.

You too.

How is the family?

Yeee-haaaw!

(CHILDREN LAUGH AND SHOUT)

This projector is a gift

from Charlie fucking Chaplin,

and he sent it all

the way from Hollywood.

Now sit down

and watch the film.

Oh, God. No.

Elizabeth, Elizabeth,

don't do that,

you're going to hurt yourself.

Yes, hi.

Is that the Bell Tavern?

If there's a Gypsy in there

called Johnny Dogs,

can you tell him to come

and round up his fucking kids?

It's Christmas.

A time for family.

Mum, I was watching that.

OK, everyone, OK.

GIRL: When's he coming?

We're having

this Christmas party early

because tomorrow,

me and Charles and Ruby

are going on a big ship

to Canada,

to be with their daddy.

But we told Father Christmas

about the party...

(WHISPERS)...and he brought

you all presents!

- Oh!

- Yes!

Race you!

Ada, where the fuck

is Father Christmas?

I don't know.

He was supposed to be here

by now.

Yeah.

Where the fuck are you, Santa?

(MIMICS GUNFIRE)

Ohhh! Ohhh!

Ugh!

No!

Ugh!

You've got me!

I've got a gun.

You'd better run!

- You'd better run!

- (THUD)

Gentlemen, today is

the last day of Prohibition.

But rather than see it

as the end of something,

I believe that,

for men like us,

it can present...

...a new beginning.

A new opportunity.

An opportunity

I would like to share

with people I know I can trust.

For the last 12 years,

the men of this island

have been making their living

from bootlegging whiskey,

from navigating the waters

and avoiding

American border patrols.

But now that whiskey is

about to become legal,

the trade will fall

back into the hands

of capitalists from New York,

Boston and Toronto.

But...

...when one door closes...

...another one opens.

We can take advantage

of the systems

that are in place

on Miquelon Island

and offer selected boat crews

the opportunity

to carry on working.

But this time

with a different cargo.

You want me to pour?

No.

Now it's all over

the fucking island.

This is an island with

no morals and no opinions -

just a load of fucking boats

with nothing to carry

and nowhere to go.

The reason why Miquelon

was used to run whiskey

in the first place

is cos it sits outside

the territorial waters

of both America and Canada.

Technically,

it's French territory.

The FBI, the RCMP

have no jurisdiction.

Where do you get this stuff?

I have established

a supply chain

over the last four years

with associates in Belfast.

We decided it was time to

break into the American market.

That, my friend,

is the finest opium

in the world.

Delivered to my warehouse

in Liverpool

directly from Shanghai.

Michael...

When it comes to this shit,

you're the expert.

I trust him.

What about the French police?

I have been in communication

with the Miquelon Prefet

des Gendarmes.

We fought in two of the

same battles in France.

We consider each other

comrades.

I have offered my comrade

12 million francs

if the boats between Miquelon

and Boston keep running.

We will have to take

your proposal

to Uncle Jack in Boston.

Perhaps we can meet

after you've spoken

with Uncle Jack, Michael,

who I believe

is your wife's uncle,

Jack Nelson.

Hey! (CHUCKLES)

The guy knows things

that can get him killed,

and he says them out loud.

I have a high regard

for Mr Nelson.

He has a history

not unlike my own.

Jack Nelson's past

is forgotten.

Not forgotten. Fucking gone.

No, not gone,

just erased from the records,

like my own.

Give him my regards, will ya?

You haven't touched your drink,

Tom.

You know, since we last met,

Michael...

...well, I've become

a better man.

I now realise that whiskey

is just fuel

for the loud engines

inside your head.

(OTHERS LAUGH)

Catch yourself on!

What is this guy,

a fuckin' poet? Eh?

Oh, I do read poetry,

but I don't yet write it.

They say the fog

is going to get worse.

We'd better get off this island

before it traps us here.

Just understand -

Uncle Jack decides everything,

OK?

And I decide

when a meeting is over.

So sit down till I say.

(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

(CLEARS HIS THROAT)

Maith fear.

Put some fuckin' hair

on your chest, huh?

Good boy.

(OTHERS LAUGH)

Now, give us all a poem

before we go.

Want to hear a poem?

Want to hear a poem?

What about you, Brainbox?

I was angry with my friend

I told my wrath

My wrath did end

I was angry with my foe

I told it not

My wrath did grow.

It's from The Poison Tree

by William Blake.

You won't have heard of him.

Meeting over.

Oh, and by the way,

my friend,

the Police Commissioner,

told me that he'd spoken to

his FBI liaison officer,

and he told him

that there is an informant

in your organisation

in South Boston.

I tell you this

in the spirit

of corporate hygiene.

Here you are, Michael.

Beware the man

with a bleeding heart tattoo...

...with "Maria" written in red.

Have a good day, gentlemen.

This time, don't burn it.

Arthur...

(TUTS)

Come on, come on.

(TUTS) God.

Oh, God,

if Polly was still here,

she'd never have let it

get this bad.

Come on. Come on, Arthur.

Arthur!

I am not Polly,

but I am still

your fucking sister.

You swore to me

you would stop using.

It's Christmas Day, Ada.

Christmas Day.

Yes, it's Christmas.

So where the fuck

are the fucking presents?

I'll be all right in a bit...

(MUMBLES)

Great.

My brother

off his face on junk.

- (GROANS)

- Every day,

there's a question

without an answer.

A leak without a bucket.

Me without a clue what to do.

Fuck.

(SLURS) I love you, Ada.

Children!

Father Christmas has been!

Father Christmas!

(CHILDREN LAUGH)

What did you ask for?

- What have we got?

- (LIZZIE SIGHS)

Father Christmas got stuck up

the chimney again, did he?

Mm.

What ship are you on tomorrow?

(SIGHS) Oh, the best,

the most expensive one.

And then we'll get there,

and Tommy will say,

"Hello, Lizzie.

"Hello, children,"

in that dead voice.

Come on, Lizzie,

he'll be on holiday.

Being away might change him.

Even on holiday, Ada,

even on top

of a rocky mountain,

he'll be the same way

he's been since Polly died.

No more Polly...

...no more whiskey,

no more Tommy.

Yeah, I'm calling

from Miquelon Island,

from the police station.

There is a boat leaving

the island now,

heading across the border.

When it docks at St John's,

a man named Michael Gray

will board a ferry to Boston.

Listen very carefully.

He's wearing a dark coat,

a blue suit

and carrying a black briefcase.

Inside the briefcase

is five pound

of pure, refined opium.

Concerned citizen.

Yeah, my name is Mr Jones.

Yes, I do.

But I don't drink any more.

(SIGHS)

(WATCH TICKS)

I have business.

I need to get off this island.

(PHONE RINGS)

You shouldn't be in here, Karl.

(PHONE RINGS)

(RINGING CONTINUES)

Are you going to answer it?

No, I don't work for him

any more.

It might be important.

That's why I don't

want to answer it.

Can I answer it?

No.

(RINGING CONTINUES)

(LIZZIE SIGHS)

Hello?

Mm-hm.

Fuck.

Do you know who this man is?

(SIGHS)

All right, come on, Arthur.

Hiya...

(CHUCKLES)

Hey, that tickles.

His brother, Thomas Shelby,

says don't serve him opium

ever again,

or someone will write

Arthur Shelby's name

on your chest

with a bayonet.

So...what the fuck?

I can't talk about anything

in here.

I just wanted to see your face

and smell your perfume.

Tommy Shelby steps back

into your life and, right away,

this is what happens?

No names in here.

Sorry. Let's just call him

the devil.

Take a seat.

How is Laurence?

Oh, you know.

Missing his father.

What the fuck happened,

Michael?

- It's in hand.

- Whose hand?

No, really.

Whose fucking hand, Michael?

Hmm?

Like everything else

in this city,

it's in the hand

of your Uncle Jack.

I need him to get the charges

lifted and get me out of here.

I already talked to him.

He told me

what the devil proposed.

Tommy Shelby wants to do

business with Jack Nelson?

He wants to take on Boston?

No-one is taking on anyone.

It's in hand.

There are deals being made

at a high level,

but there are some people

at the middle level

and lower levels

who cannot be trusted.

Michael,

- this sounds fucking...

- Shut up and listen.

It was Tommy himself

who warned us of the informant.

We're guessing

that the informant

was the one that tipped off

the police about me.

Then the devil's plan

has already begun.

What's the point

of ships and planes

if you can't get away?

Gina, in today's paper,

you will read about a man

being fished out

of the Boston Harbour

with a bleeding heart tattoo

and the name "Maria"

written on his arm.

Single shot to the head.

Yeah, I know,

I read it already.

His death will lead to others.

For this business to work,

we must only use men we trust.

And while the clean-up

is being carried out,

you must keep things

to yourself.

You talk loose to anyone,

it'll be me in the harbour

and you'll be the Maria

with the bleeding heart.

Do you understand?

Michael, I just want the truth.

No, fuck that -

I need the truth!

Why are you doing business

with him again?

Gina,

tell me what you're thinking

of getting Laurence

for Christmas.

There are plenty of men

who can supply powder

all over the world -

I don't understand

why it needs to be him.

(MICHAEL SIGHS)

Some of my business

with Tommy Shelby

is unfinished.

This is my opportunity

to finish it.

So speak to your uncle and

get me the fuck out of here.

(JAZZ ON RADIO)

- (PHONE RINGS)

- Oh!

Hello?

Who?

Sure.

Why the hell not?

(GIGGLES)

I heard you were in town

and I thought, "Well, hey."

Little man

hitting the big time.

You like jazz?

No.

(VOLUME INCREASES)

(RADIO OFF)

What do you want? Whiskey?

Water.

I don't have any water.

What else do you want?

I have a message

for your Uncle Jack.

Tommy, relax.

Have a fucking drink.

You know my uncle's planning

on buying the

United States import licence

to all the best Scotch

and Irish whiskey distilleries.

He's on his way to London

right now to make those deals.

Every drop in every state

will be another dime

for Uncle Jack.

Yeah.

He's a very powerful,

very impressive man.

I've only seen photographs -

when he was young,

police mug shots,

and, more recently,

in high-society magazines.

I think

this represents progress.

Yeah.

And before you tell me

what you want me to tell him,

I have a message

from him to you.

No deal.

Hmm.

In England, when someone gets

this close to Tommy Shelby,

it's, oh, the horror.

Oh, the desire...

...to fall on your knees,

open your mouth and say,

"Yes, sir.

"Please, sir."

So it's Uncle Jack

you fall on your knees for, eh?

Not Michael.

He says no deal, Mr Shelby.

You smell of jail, Gina.

- And you drink too much.

- (SCOFFS)

Yes, but booze is legal.

Your white powder's not.

Jack has friends

in the government now.

Do you have any idea

how far he's risen?

All the way to the fucking top.

Can't have white powder

on his shiny black boots

when he's on his way

to meet the President

of the United States

cos, yeah,

that's where he goes now.

So he can't really be

taking such a big risk

on such a little deal.

Go home, boy.

Bye-bye, Mr Shelby.

Yeah, you have another whiskey,

Gina.

Another dime for Uncle Jack.

You mind if I smoke?

If it's legal, it's OK.

Before I go...

...you should know...

...that it was me

who tipped off

the border police

about the contents

of Michael's suitcase.

I'm the reason he's in jail.

I wanted to give your uncle

a dilemma.

His favourite niece's

husband...

...banged up in Boston...

...for smuggling opium.

What does he do?

If he intervenes

and has him released,

how will that play

in the Oval Office?

If he does nothing,

how does that play

in South Boston?

Oh, fuck you.

Fine.

Stay here.

Deal here.

Die here,

for all I fucking care.

(RADIO ON)

Die at whose hand, Gina? Eh?

(RADIO OFF)

My message to your uncle

is this.

If he doesn't want

to buy my opium,

I will sell

to the East Boston Jews.

Oh, baby.

Do you want to start

a fucking war?

With that amount of opium,

the balance of power

between the Irish,

the Jewish and the Italians

would shift heavily

in favour of the East.

I have excellent contacts

with the family

that runs East Boston.

The Solomons family.

Maybe you've heard of 'em?

Once you people have accepted

that you must treat us

as equals...

...then I think our families

will work together very well.

Have a good day, Gina.

(RADIO ON)

(PHONE RINGS)

(PHONE RINGS)

Yep?

Yes, I'll accept the call.

Hello, Lizzie.

Tommy...

It's Ruby. She's not well.

She's got a temperature of 101.

Doctor's just left.

What did he say?

He says he thinks it's flu,

but he's going to come later

to check on her.

She's been coughing and...

(SIGHS)

Tommy, he said it's not

a good idea for us to travel.

We can't board that ship

to Boston today.

That's all right, Lizzie,

don't worry.

Don't worry, you just stay

there for now

and get her better and, er...

(CLEARS HIS THROAT)

Can I speak to her?

She's sleeping.

Yeah, well, let her sleep.

Let her sleep.

Lizzie, I've a bit more

business to do here.

Look, you just book

a new passage

when Ruby's feeling better.

It doesn't matter if you don't

get here for Christmas,

just as long as you get here,

right?

And then I'll get

this business done,

you get here

with the children...

...and then no more.

And it'll just be us

and the clean air

out in the West.

I've found a place

in the mountains.

There'll be snow.

Tell Ruby... Tell Ruby

I'll build her a snowman.

Hmm.

(SIGHS)

How long has she been coughing?

A few days.

She's been out running wild

with Johnny Dog's kids,

out in the cold by the river.

(SIGHS)

Are you OK, Tommy?

Your voice,

it sounds different.

It's just cold.

I'll get this business done

in Boston...

...and that'll be

the end of it.

And then I just want to...

...I just want to pick Ruby up

and hold her in my arms,

y'know?

I miss the weight

of carrying her.

I gave her her presents early.

She loves them.

But last night,

she was burning up.

She was delirious.

She kept talking.

Johnny's kids have been

teaching her to speak Gypsy.

Teaching her to rob and steal,

more like.

(LAUGHS) Yeah.

When she was delirious,

she kept saying

these Gypsy words, er...

"Tickner maura,

tickner maura, o beng, o beng, "

over and over again.

What? Lizzie, what...?

What did you say?

What did Ruby say?

Tickner, tickner maura.

- Something like that.

- Did she say any...

Did she say any other words

that you didn't understand?

"O beng, o beng." I don't know.

No, Lizzie, did she say

any other words in Romany?

Fucking listen to me!

I don't know Romany words,

Tommy. I don't think so.

Just "tickner maura"

and "o beng"?

Yes.

Could she see anything

when she was burning up?

- What could she see?

- Oh, fuck.

Lizzie, please, just answer

the fucking question!

She said she could see a man.

A man with green eyes.

She was delirious.

She was burning up.

What the fuck is the matter?

All right, listen, Lizzie,

- I'm coming home.

- Tommy,

- it's just a fever, love.

- Listen to me.

I'm coming home. I'll be

on the next steamer back.

You keep her out of school.

You hear me?

You keep her out of school,

you keep her away from...

- Tommy...

- Keep her away from the river.

Don't let her ride a horse

or go near a horse.

Tell Johnny Dogs and his wives

the words

that Ruby has been saying.

Do you hear me?

Tell Johnny's eldest wife

to put a Black Madonna

around her neck.

You listen to Esmeralda

the same way you listen

to a fucking doctor.

You hear me?

Fucking Gypsy stuff.

Yes, it is Gypsy fucking stuff,

Lizzie! Yes, it fucking is!

- (GROANS)

- And you get Curly there.

Tell him to stay in the stable

with Ruby's horses.

And you do everything

that Johnny Dogs

and his wives fucking tell you.

Do you understand me?

I'm sorry, Lizzie.

Do you understand?

OK!

I'll do it.

All right, I'm coming home.

Polly?

Polly?

They know

I'm trying to get out.

Pol...

...they're coming for me.

(FOOTSTEPS)

You son of a fucking bitch.

You sound American, Michael.

I have to go back

to England early.

Let's make this quick, eh?

You just fuck people up

and you run away.

No, this business

will continue.

Jack Nelson is also travelling

to England.

To London and to Edinburgh,

to buy import licences.

How the fuck do you know

where Jack Nelson's going?

Well, I have copies

of his itinerary.

Of his personal correspondence.

Letters from the President

of the United States,

and his many mistresses.

I have contacts

in his organisation.

An Irishman with a mortgage is

a powerful resource, Michael.

You're dead, Tommy.

You're out

of your fucking depth.

You're dead already.

You threatened

to sell to the Jews.

And I have contacts

in this prison.

These boys here will look

after you during your stay.

I don't need your fucking

people to look after me.

Jack Nelson's getting me

out of here.

Oh, yeah?

Is he?

This is a letter.

Here, give him this letter,

will ya?

This is a letter

from the President's

personal secretary,

suggesting Jack Nelson keep you

in here for a while longer.

Just until the press

lose interest, Michael.

Fuck you.

You'll be released eventually.

And then you can execute

your business with me...

...as before.

Our business being $5 million

for a shipment of powder.

And when the exchange is done,

we can shake hands

and go our separate ways

once more, eh?

So, you didn't learn.

When my mother died

at the hands of your ambition,

you didn't learn

your limitations.

I have no limitations.

Oh, and by the way, Michael...

...according to Jack Nelson's

personal accounts,

he bought passage

for five people

from Boston to Liverpool.

Five people - his wife,

his mistress,

President Roosevelt's son,

himself...

...and Gina Gray.

Gina's coming to London,

Michael...

...where I will be happy

to show her the sights.

Fuck! You fucking bastard,

Tommy!

- Spirits, Boston Irish...

- You're the devil!

- ...and Uncle Jack.

- You're the fucking devil!

I'm ready for the conversation.

(BIRDSONG)

You've both met bad men before.

The man we're about to meet

is the devil.

My name's Mosley.

Oswald Mosley.

You've come to my attention.

Michael Gray.

You lost all your cousin's

money in America,

playing the fool.

And poor old Arthur Shelby.

His wife has been seen

with another man.

Ah!

May you Peaky Blinders all rot.

If you're going to England,

I'm coming with you.

- I want to meet your family.

- No, you don't.

Mr Thomas,

it is the purest opium

that has ever arrived

in Europe.

£250,000.

All we have to do

is keep it here for a week.

I vote against it, Tom.

Those in favour?

Motion carried.

Agh!

We're talking about

an empty chair, Ada.

My chair. My throne.

Someone wants my crown.

I think it might be Michael.

Mr Shelby, my name

is Captain Swing.

Michael, your kin,

was making deals

with the very men

who want you dead.

I'm doing this for you, Tommy.

It's time.

And you know it.

Let me guess.

Don't fuck

with the Peaky Blinders.

There will be a war,

and one of you will die.

But which one, I cannot tell.

I'll do what I have to do, Pol.

Kill...and kill.

I have a job for you.

I'm going to shoot

Oswald Mosley.

Kill the man, kill the message.

I think it's about time

we got off the stage, old man.

The Chinese, the Italians...

Mosley knew nothing!

He knew nothing!

Who?!

Talk to me.

Maybe I've found him...

...Arthur,

the man I can't defeat.

- Mosley.

- I don't know.

I don't fucking know.

Doesn't make sense.

Let's...

Let's go inside.

We'll work it out,

have a drink.

I need to walk.

The work's all done, Tommy.

It's all done.

We can walk away

from all of this.

It's so easy. It's so soft.

Such a small change.

Arthur took the bullets out.

On the way back.

He said you stopped

at a crossroads to throw up.

You're not even a soldier

any more, Tommy.

You didn't check your weapon.

You're not a soldier,

you're a coward.

I heard you pull the trigger.

Leaving your family behind

without a goodbye...

If you still need a way out...

...here are six of them.

Mother.

They let you pass through.

They wouldn't let me pass.

As if there were to be

another consequence.

Hello?

Mr Shelby, I imagine

you're curious

as to who it was prevented

the assassination last night.

If you look out your window,

you'll see a flag of truce.

It's a unit of volunteers

bringing the bodies

of your dead to you,

to send to heaven

in your own way.

Last night's operation

was carried out by soldiers

from three Dublin brigades

of the Irish Republican Army.

We need to keep

Mr Mosley alive.

That's all you need to know.

Also, you should know

that saving Mosley's life

wasn't our only intervention

last night.

We've made some changes

to the structure

of your organisation.

Ever since you began

to build your empire...

...you've had a crutch

to lean on.

Last night, we kicked

away that crutch.

From now on, it will be us

that you lean on.

Please be aware, Mr Shelby,

that the deaths

of your people...

...are your own

responsibility...

..because you consistently fail

to understand

your own limitations.

Mum...

...it was the ambitions

and strategies

of one man that caused this.

And I swear in the name

of Almighty God...

...no matter what it takes,

no matter how many lies

I have to tell...

...I will take revenge on

Tommy Shelby.

Monsieur.

Monsieur!

J'arrive.

You want a drink?

I'll have a glass of water,

please.

Windows got broke

because a lot of people here

are drunk and angry.

You know?

Half the men on this island

made their living

bootlegging till today.

The other half

fixed their boats.

Maybe you should take

your water into the hall.

Yeah, I learned

a lot of things in France.

Island is crawling with

you fucking commissary men.

Closing our warehouses down.

Throwing men out of work.

Ten years our boat ran whiskey

down the President Roads

to Boston.

Now we have fucking nothing.

And you sit in front of us

and order fucking water.

Is that meant to be a joke?

No.

I ordered water

because I no longer

drink alcohol...

...of any kind.

You, my friend...

...are going to drink a toast.

You will raise your glass to

the poor people of Miquelon,

whose lives you bastards

have destroyed.

Drink it.

Hey.

Drink.

You're not leaving this bar

until you have raised a toast

to the people of Miquelon.

OK.

OK.

I understand that,

today of all days,

you would be angry.

But if you'd have read my card

instead of burning it,

you would realise

that this

is a misunderstanding.

Now, I've been very patient,

given the circumstances,

but you need to sit down

and let me read my newspaper.

Il est bon, lui, hein?

Before this goes any further,

please let me explain.

I will not drink your toast,

cos four years ago,

I forswore alcohol.

Putain.

No.

- Don't.

Since I forswore alcohol,

I've become a calmer

and more peaceful person.

Get in.

Sometimes,

in moments

of personal conflict...

...I can resort to my old ways.

If this were to happen now,

it would indeed be a black day

in Miquelon.

Now, my guests

will be arriving shortly.

I need to prepare the room.

Can you show me where?

Excusez-moi.

Où est L'Hôtel Robert?

They think we're distillery men

here to take our whiskey back.

We're late. He's always early.

Let's go.

There will be a war,

and one of you will die.

But which one, I cannot tell.

Hello, Tommy.

There's a man out there having

his face stitched back up.

That was a misunderstanding.

Hello, Michael.

I wasn't sure what I'd think

when I saw you again, Tom.

Oh, yeah?

What do you think?

Since my mother

passed away four years ago,

Tommy and I

haven't even spoken.

Well,

we've both been very busy.

You've been too busy to punish

the people who killed her.

You know, Michael,

when you're dealing

with a very powerful enemy,

taking revenge

sometimes requires time.

You have to...

...pick your moment.

That moment will come.

But now we have

a business interest in common,

and any bad blood will be

diluted by time

and a practical self-interest.

Well, Tommy, we're all keen

to hear what you have to say.

I'm very much looking forward

to working with you again,

Michael. You look very well.

You too.

How is the family?

Yeee-haaaw!

This projector is a gift

from Charlie fucking Chaplin,

and he sent it all

the way from Hollywood.

Now sit down

and watch the film.

Oh, God. No.

Elizabeth, Elizabeth,

don't do that,

you're going to hurt yourself.

Yes, hi.

Is that the Bell Tavern?

If there's a Gypsy in there

called Johnny Dogs,

can you tell him to come

and round up his fucking kids?

It's Christmas.

A time for family.

Mum, I was watching that.

OK, everyone, OK.

When's he coming?

We're having

this Christmas party early

because tomorrow,

me and Charles and Ruby

are going on a big ship

to Canada,

to be with their daddy.

But we told Father Christmas

about the party...

...and he brought

you all presents!

- Oh!

- Yes!

Race you!

Ada, where the fuck

is Father Christmas?

I don't know.

He was supposed to be here

by now.

Yeah.

Where the fuck are you, Santa?

Ohhh! Ohhh!

Ugh!

No!

Ugh!

You've got me!

I've got a gun.

You'd better run!

- You'd better run!

Gentlemen, today is

the last day of Prohibition.

But rather than see it

as the end of something,

I believe that,

for men like us,

it can present...

...a new beginning.

A new opportunity.

An opportunity

I would like to share

with people I know I can trust.

For the last 12 years,

the men of this island

have been making their living

from bootlegging whiskey,

from navigating the waters

and avoiding

American border patrols.

But now that whiskey is

about to become legal,

the trade will fall

back into the hands

of capitalists from New York,

Boston and Toronto.

But...

...when one door closes...

...another one opens.

We can take advantage

of the systems

that are in place

on Miquelon Island

and offer selected boat crews

the opportunity

to carry on working.

But this time

with a different cargo.

You want me to pour?

No.

Now it's all over

the fucking island.

This is an island with

no morals and no opinions -

just a load of fucking boats

with nothing to carry

and nowhere to go.

The reason why Miquelon

was used to run whiskey

in the first place

is cos it sits outside

the territorial waters

of both America and Canada.

Technically,

it's French territory.

The FBI, the RCMP

have no jurisdiction.

Where do you get this stuff?

I have established

a supply chain

over the last four years

with associates in Belfast.

We decided it was time to

break into the American market.

That, my friend,

is the finest opium

in the world.

Delivered to my warehouse

in Liverpool

directly from Shanghai.

Michael...

When it comes to this shit,

you're the expert.

I trust him.

What about the French police?

I have been in communication

with the Miquelon Prefet

des Gendarmes.

We fought in two of the

same battles in France.

We consider each other

comrades.

I have offered my comrade

12 million francs

if the boats between Miquelon

and Boston keep running.

We will have to take

your proposal

to Uncle Jack in Boston.

Perhaps we can meet

after you've spoken

with Uncle Jack, Michael,

who I believe

is your wife's uncle,

Jack Nelson.

Hey!

The guy knows things

that can get him killed,

and he says them out loud.

I have a high regard

for Mr Nelson.

He has a history

not unlike my own.

Jack Nelson's past

is forgotten.

Not forgotten. Fucking gone.

No, not gone,

just erased from the records,

like my own.

Give him my regards, will ya?

You haven't touched your drink,

Tom.

You know, since we last met,

Michael...

...well, I've become

a better man.

I now realise that whiskey

is just fuel

for the loud engines

inside your head.

Catch yourself on!

What is this guy,

a fuckin' poet? Eh?

Oh, I do read poetry,

but I don't yet write it.

They say the fog

is going to get worse.

We'd better get off this island

before it traps us here.

Just understand -

Uncle Jack decides everything,

OK?

And I decide

when a meeting is over.

So sit down till I say.

Maith fear.

Put some fuckin' hair

on your chest, huh?

Good boy.

Now, give us all a poem

before we go.

Want to hear a poem?

Want to hear a poem?

What about you, Brainbox?

I was angry with my friend

I told my wrath

My wrath did end

I was angry with my foe

I told it not

My wrath did grow.

It's from The Poison Tree

by William Blake.

You won't have heard of him.

Meeting over.

Oh, and by the way,

my friend,

the Police Commissioner,

told me that he'd spoken to

his FBI liaison officer,

and he told him

that there is an informant

in your organisation

in South Boston.

I tell you this

in the spirit

of corporate hygiene.

Here you are, Michael.

Beware the man

with a bleeding heart tattoo...

...with "Maria" written in red.

Have a good day, gentlemen.

This time, don't burn it.

Arthur...

Come on, come on.

God.

Oh, God,

if Polly was still here,

she'd never have let it

get this bad.

Come on. Come on, Arthur.

Arthur!

I am not Polly,

but I am still

your fucking sister.

You swore to me

you would stop using.

It's Christmas Day, Ada.

Christmas Day.

Yes, it's Christmas.

So where the fuck

are the fucking presents?

I'll be all right in a bit...

Great.

My brother

off his face on junk.

- Every day,

there's a question

without an answer.

A leak without a bucket.

Me without a clue what to do.

Fuck.

I love you, Ada.

Children!

Father Christmas has been!

Father Christmas!

What did you ask for?

- What have we got?

Father Christmas got stuck up

the chimney again, did he?

Mm.

What ship are you on tomorrow?

Oh, the best,

the most expensive one.

And then we'll get there,

and Tommy will say,

"Hello, Lizzie.

"Hello, children,"

in that dead voice.

Come on, Lizzie,

he'll be on holiday.

Being away might change him.

Even on holiday, Ada,

even on top

of a rocky mountain,

he'll be the same way

he's been since Polly died.

No more Polly...

...no more whiskey,

no more Tommy.

Yeah, I'm calling

from Miquelon Island,

from the police station.

There is a boat leaving

the island now,

heading across the border.

When it docks at St John's,

a man named Michael Gray

will board a ferry to Boston.

Listen very carefully.

He's wearing a dark coat,

a blue suit

and carrying a black briefcase.

Inside the briefcase

is five pound

of pure, refined opium.

Concerned citizen.

Yeah, my name is Mr Jones.

Yes, I do.

But I don't drink any more.

I have business.

I need to get off this island.

You shouldn't be in here, Karl.

Are you going to answer it?

No, I don't work for him

any more.

It might be important.

That's why I don't

want to answer it.

Can I answer it?

No.

Hello?

Mm-hm.

Fuck.

Do you know who this man is?

All right, come on, Arthur.

Hiya...

Hey, that tickles.

His brother, Thomas Shelby,

says don't serve him opium

ever again,

or someone will write

Arthur Shelby's name

on your chest

with a bayonet.

So...what the fuck?

I can't talk about anything

in here.

I just wanted to see your face

and smell your perfume.

Tommy Shelby steps back

into your life and, right away,

this is what happens?

No names in here.

Sorry. Let's just call him

the devil.

Take a seat.

How is Laurence?

Oh, you know.

Missing his father.

What the fuck happened,

Michael?

- It's in hand.

- Whose hand?

No, really.

Whose fucking hand, Michael?

Hmm?

Like everything else

in this city,

it's in the hand

of your Uncle Jack.

I need him to get the charges

lifted and get me out of here.

I already talked to him.

He told me

what the devil proposed.

Tommy Shelby wants to do

business with Jack Nelson?

He wants to take on Boston?

No-one is taking on anyone.

It's in hand.

There are deals being made

at a high level,

but there are some people

at the middle level

and lower levels

who cannot be trusted.

Michael,

- this sounds fucking...

- Shut up and listen.

It was Tommy himself

who warned us of the informant.

We're guessing

that the informant

was the one that tipped off

the police about me.

Then the devil's plan

has already begun.

What's the point

of ships and planes

if you can't get away?

Gina, in today's paper,

you will read about a man

being fished out

of the Boston Harbour

with a bleeding heart tattoo

and the name "Maria"

written on his arm.

Single shot to the head.

Yeah, I know,

I read it already.

His death will lead to others.

For this business to work,

we must only use men we trust.

And while the clean-up

is being carried out,

you must keep things

to yourself.

You talk loose to anyone,

it'll be me in the harbour

and you'll be the Maria

with the bleeding heart.

Do you understand?

Michael, I just want the truth.

No, fuck that -

I need the truth!

Why are you doing business

with him again?

Gina,

tell me what you're thinking

of getting Laurence

for Christmas.

There are plenty of men

who can supply powder

all over the world -

I don't understand

why it needs to be him.

Some of my business

with Tommy Shelby

is unfinished.

This is my opportunity

to finish it.

So speak to your uncle and

get me the fuck out of here.

- Oh!

Hello?

Who?

Sure.

Why the hell not?

I heard you were in town

and I thought, "Well, hey."

Little man

hitting the big time.

You like jazz?

No.

What do you want? Whiskey?

Water.

I don't have any water.

What else do you want?

I have a message

for your Uncle Jack.

Tommy, relax.

Have a fucking drink.

You know my uncle's planning

on buying the

United States import licence

to all the best Scotch

and Irish whiskey distilleries.

He's on his way to London

right now to make those deals.

Every drop in every state

will be another dime

for Uncle Jack.

Yeah.

He's a very powerful,

very impressive man.

I've only seen photographs -

when he was young,

police mug shots,

and, more recently,

in high-society magazines.

I think

this represents progress.

Yeah.

And before you tell me

what you want me to tell him,

I have a message

from him to you.

No deal.

Hmm.

In England, when someone gets

this close to Tommy Shelby,

it's, oh, the horror.

Oh, the desire...

...to fall on your knees,

open your mouth and say,

"Yes, sir.

"Please, sir."

So it's Uncle Jack

you fall on your knees for, eh?

Not Michael.

He says no deal, Mr Shelby.

You smell of jail, Gina.

- And you drink too much.

Yes, but booze is legal.

Your white powder's not.

Jack has friends

in the government now.

Do you have any idea

how far he's risen?

All the way to the fucking top.

Can't have white powder

on his shiny black boots

when he's on his way

to meet the President

of the United States

cos, yeah,

that's where he goes now.

So he can't really be

taking such a big risk

on such a little deal.

Go home, boy.

Bye-bye, Mr Shelby.

Yeah, you have another whiskey,

Gina.

Another dime for Uncle Jack.

You mind if I smoke?

If it's legal, it's OK.

Before I go...

...you should know...

...that it was me

who tipped off

the border police

about the contents

of Michael's suitcase.

I'm the reason he's in jail.

I wanted to give your uncle

a dilemma.

His favourite niece's

husband...

...banged up in Boston...

...for smuggling opium.

What does he do?

If he intervenes

and has him released,

how will that play

in the Oval Office?

If he does nothing,

how does that play

in South Boston?

Oh, fuck you.

Fine.

Stay here.

Deal here.

Die here,

for all I fucking care.

Die at whose hand, Gina? Eh?

My message to your uncle

is this.

If he doesn't want

to buy my opium,

I will sell

to the East Boston Jews.

Oh, baby.

Do you want to start

a fucking war?

With that amount of opium,

the balance of power

between the Irish,

the Jewish and the Italians

would shift heavily

in favour of the East.

I have excellent contacts

with the family

that runs East Boston.

The Solomons family.

Maybe you've heard of 'em?

Once you people have accepted

that you must treat us

as equals...

...then I think our families

will work together very well.

Have a good day, Gina.

Yep?

Yes, I'll accept the call.

Hello, Lizzie.

Tommy...

It's Ruby. She's not well.

She's got a temperature of 101.

Doctor's just left.

What did he say?

He says he thinks it's flu,

but he's going to come later

to check on her.

She's been coughing and...

Tommy, he said it's not

a good idea for us to travel.

We can't board that ship

to Boston today.

That's all right, Lizzie,

don't worry.

Don't worry, you just stay

there for now

and get her better and, er...

Can I speak to her?

She's sleeping.

Yeah, well, let her sleep.

Let her sleep.

Lizzie, I've a bit more

business to do here.

Look, you just book

a new passage

when Ruby's feeling better.

It doesn't matter if you don't

get here for Christmas,

just as long as you get here,

right?

And then I'll get

this business done,

you get here

with the children...

...and then no more.

And it'll just be us

and the clean air

out in the West.

I've found a place

in the mountains.

There'll be snow.

Tell Ruby... Tell Ruby

I'll build her a snowman.

Hmm.

How long has she been coughing?

A few days.

She's been out running wild

with Johnny Dog's kids,

out in the cold by the river.

Are you OK, Tommy?

Your voice,

it sounds different.

It's just cold.

I'll get this business done

in Boston...

...and that'll be

the end of it.

And then I just want to...

...I just want to pick Ruby up

and hold her in my arms,

y'know?

I miss the weight

of carrying her.

I gave her her presents early.

She loves them.

But last night,

she was burning up.

She was delirious.

She kept talking.

Johnny's kids have been

teaching her to speak Gypsy.

Teaching her to rob and steal,

more like.

Yeah.

When she was delirious,

she kept saying

these Gypsy words, er...

"Tickner maura,

tickner maura, o beng, o beng, "

over and over again.

What? Lizzie, what...?

What did you say?

What did Ruby say?

Tickner, tickner maura.

- Something like that.

- Did she say any...

Did she say any other words

that you didn't understand?

"O beng, o beng." I don't know.

No, Lizzie, did she say

any other words in Romany?

Fucking listen to me!

I don't know Romany words,

Tommy. I don't think so.

Just "tickner maura"

and "o beng"?

Yes.

Could she see anything

when she was burning up?

- What could she see?

- Oh, fuck.

Lizzie, please, just answer

the fucking question!

She said she could see a man.

A man with green eyes.

She was delirious.

She was burning up.

What the fuck is the matter?

All right, listen, Lizzie,

- I'm coming home.

- Tommy,

- it's just a fever, love.

- Listen to me.

I'm coming home. I'll be

on the next steamer back.

You keep her out of school.

You hear me?

You keep her out of school,

you keep her away from...

- Tommy...

- Keep her away from the river.

Don't let her ride a horse

or go near a horse.

Tell Johnny Dogs and his wives

the words

that Ruby has been saying.

Do you hear me?

Tell Johnny's eldest wife

to put a Black Madonna

around her neck.

You listen to Esmeralda

the same way you listen

to a fucking doctor.

You hear me?

Fucking Gypsy stuff.

Yes, it is Gypsy fucking stuff,

Lizzie! Yes, it fucking is!

- And you get Curly there.

Tell him to stay in the stable

with Ruby's horses.

And you do everything

that Johnny Dogs

and his wives fucking tell you.

Do you understand me?

I'm sorry, Lizzie.

Do you understand?

OK!

I'll do it.

All right, I'm coming home.

Polly?

Polly?

They know

I'm trying to get out.

Pol...

...they're coming for me.

You son of a fucking bitch.

You sound American, Michael.

I have to go back

to England early.

Let's make this quick, eh?

You just fuck people up

and you run away.

No, this business

will continue.

Jack Nelson is also travelling

to England.

To London and to Edinburgh,

to buy import licences.

How the fuck do you know

where Jack Nelson's going?

Well, I have copies

of his itinerary.

Of his personal correspondence.

Letters from the President

of the United States,

and his many mistresses.

I have contacts

in his organisation.

An Irishman with a mortgage is

a powerful resource, Michael.

You're dead, Tommy.

You're out

of your fucking depth.

You're dead already.

You threatened

to sell to the Jews.

And I have contacts

in this prison.

These boys here will look

after you during your stay.

I don't need your fucking

people to look after me.

Jack Nelson's getting me

out of here.

Oh, yeah?

Is he?

This is a letter.

Here, give him this letter,

will ya?

This is a letter

from the President's

personal secretary,

suggesting Jack Nelson keep you

in here for a while longer.

Just until the press

lose interest, Michael.

Fuck you.

You'll be released eventually.

And then you can execute

your business with me...

...as before.

Our business being $5 million

for a shipment of powder.

And when the exchange is done,

we can shake hands

and go our separate ways

once more, eh?

So, you didn't learn.

When my mother died

at the hands of your ambition,

you didn't learn

your limitations.

I have no limitations.

Oh, and by the way, Michael...

...according to Jack Nelson's

personal accounts,

he bought passage

for five people

from Boston to Liverpool.

Five people - his wife,

his mistress,

President Roosevelt's son,

himself...

...and Gina Gray.

Gina's coming to London,

Michael...

...where I will be happy

to show her the sights.

Fuck! You fucking bastard,

Tommy!

- Spirits, Boston Irish...

- You're the devil!

- ...and Uncle Jack.

- You're the fucking devil!

I'm ready for the conversation.