Screenplays for You - free movie scripts and screenplays

Screenplays, movie scripts and transcripts organized alphabetically:

Mobsters (1991)

by Michael Mahern and Nicholas Kazan.
Based on a story by Michael Mahern.
Shooting draft.

More info about this movie on IMDb.com


FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY


INT: BELOW DECK ON A OCEAN GOING SHIP - NIGHT

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

SALVATORE LUCIANO

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

ANOTHER FAMILY

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

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

A MIDDLE-AGED MAN OF SEVERE BEARING

looms in the doorway. He shouts.

		ANTONIO LUCIANO
	NO!

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

		ANTONIO LUCIANO
		(IN ITALIAN)
	We are not beggars.

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

A MAN STICKS HIS HEAD THROUGH THE DOOR AND SHOUTS

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

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

CLOSE - ON THE KEROSINE LAMP

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

							CUT TO:

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

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

		TEACHER
	Come on. Come on.

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

		TEACHER
	Sit in the back.

Salvatore looks around, not understanding.

		SALVATORE
		(IN ITALIAN)
	There is some mistake.

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

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

		TEACHER
	Front. Back.

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

		TEACHER
	Sit in the back.

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: MULBERRY STREET - DAY

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

		ITALIAN LABORER
	Nero.

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

		SALVATORE
	Rosso!

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

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: BEDROOM OF LUCIANO FAMILY APARTMENT - EVENING

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

JUST INSIDE THE FRONT DOOR STANDS A MAN IN UNIFORM

As Antonio drags Sal out from the bedroom.

		SALVATORE
		(IN ITALIAN)
	The Teacher hit me first!

Antonio hits Sal hard, upside the head.

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

Rosalie runs over from the kitchen, waving a ladle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: TRUANT SCHOOL CLASSROOM - DAY

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

SALVATORE STARES BLANKLY AT A BOOK HE CAN'T READ

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

							CUT TO:

INT: A MASSIVE DORMITORY - DAY

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

		FRANKIE COSTELLO
		(IN ITALIAN)
	Where were you before?

		SALVATORE
	Scuola Trenta-Quarto.

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

He extends a soapy hand to Sal and they shake.

		SALVATORE
		(IN ENGLISH)
	Hey, me too.

Frank laughs at Sal's attempt at English

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

		SALVATORE
	Salvatore Luciano.

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

Salvatore nods.

		SALVATORE
		(IN ITALIAN)
	I want an American name.

Frank regards Sal critically for a moment.

		FRANK
	Charlie.

		SALVATORE
	Cha-lee?

		FRANK
	Char-lie.

		CHARLIE
	Char-lie.

		FRANK
	Fuck you, Charlie.

Frank gestures with his middle finger. Charlie returns it.

		CHARLIE
	Fucka you, Frankie!

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

		FRANK
	Son of a bitch!

		CHARLIE
	Somma bitch!

Angry now, Frank grabs his crotch and hisses.

		FRANK
	Suck my dick, motherfucker.

Charlie jumps up and dramatically grabs his crotch.

		CHARLIE
	Muddafucka somma bitch. Sucka my 
	fucka you.

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

INT: HALLWAY - DAY

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

							CUT TO:

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

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

FRANK STARES ACROSS THE STREET

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

TWO JEWISH BOYS - YOUNGER THAN FRANK

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

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

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

		LANSKY
	Yeah. So who the fuck does?

		SIEGEL
	Come on. Tell us, Shitface.

Costello jumps up and seizes Siegel by the shirt.

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

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

		LANSKY
	Kick him in the balls!

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

CHARLIE LUCIANO SHAKES HIS HEAD

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

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

Frank climbs up. Embarrassed.

		LUCIANO
	You fellas got names?

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

Siegel continues to struggle in Luciano's grip.

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

Charlie lowers Siegel to the sidewalk.

		FRANK
	No shit.

Luciano glares at Costello.

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

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

		LANSKY
	Keep your fuckin' Dago protection.

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

							CUT TO:

INT: DARK STAIRWAY - DAY

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

INT: LUCIANO KITCHEN - DAY

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

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

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

		CHARLIE
	Stayin' for dinner, Paisan?

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

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO KITCHEN - DAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AT THE DOOR

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

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

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

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

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

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

An edge of panic creeps into Antonio's voice.

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

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

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

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

		ANTONIO LUCIANO
	ROSALIE. NO!

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

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: JEWISH BAKERY - DAY

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: MULBERRY STREET - DAY

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

ACROSS THE STREET

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

		CHARLIE
	Who's Mr. Tutti-Frutti?

Frank shoots Charlie a withering look.

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

		CHARLIE
	Ya comin' in?

Frank lays a restraining hand on Charlie.

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

UP THE STREET

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

FROM THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION

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

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

Lansky barely retains his grip on the cholent.

		LANSKY
	Look where ya goin', Turdbrain!

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

		MIKE SHANE
	I go where I want.

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

		MIKE SHANE
	Bringin' me dinner, Jew Boy?

Meyer shakes his head "yes".

UP THE STREET

Frank and Charlie turn around to check out the commotion.

SHANE LOOSENS HIS GRIP ON MEYER

who gasps for breath.

		SHANE
	So, give it to me.

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

UP THE STREET

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: EAST RIVER DOCKS - DUSK

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

CHARLIE LUCIANO CLIMBS ONTO THE PIER

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

CLOSE - ON THE FACE OF MIKE SHANE

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

FACING TOWARD THE DOCKSIDE WAREHOUSES - CHARLIE LIMBERS UP

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

SHANE AND HIS GANG

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

OFF THE OTHER PIER

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

AS THE ITALIANS SWIM INTO THE WAR ZONE

Charlie scans the scene looking for Lansky.

CHARLIE SWIMS

under the wildly kicking legs of the surface combatants.

CLOSE ON MIKE SHANE'S ENRAGED FACE - UNDERWATER

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

CHARLIE PULLS A KNIFE FROM SHANE'S BACK

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

CHARLIE GASPS FOR BREATH

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

AS THE OTHERS DISAPPEAR INTO THE NIGHT

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

LANSKY SURFACES IN THE RIVER

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

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: WAREHOUSE BASEMENT - DAY

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

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

		FRANK
	Long as Charlie says.

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

		SIEGEL
	Can't we get a couple whores over?

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

		FRANK
	You ain't even a man yet.

		SIEGEL
	That ain't what your mama said.

Frank leaps up.

		FRANK
	You slimy fuckin' kike!

Bugsy regards Frank cooly, fondling his own crotch.

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

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

		CHARLIE
		(emphatic)
	ENOUGH!

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

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

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

MEYER LANSKY

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

		FRANK
	Where'd ya get this funny ravioli?

		SIEGEL
	Ya ignorant Guinea, it's kreplach.

Charlie bites into a piece. Nods approvingly to Meyer.

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

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

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

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

Puzzled by the drift of the conversation, Bugsy objects.

		SIEGEL
	What the hell you talkin' about?

Ignoring Bugsy, Meyer smiles sweetly at Charlie.

		MEYER
	Guess I owe ya one, Charlie.

		SIEGEL
	Would somebody here please speak 
	fuckin' English?

Frankie leans over to bait Bugsy.

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

Bugsy takes a swing at Frankie.

							CUT TO:

EXT: MULBERRY STREET - DAY

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

CHARLIE, MEYER, FRANK, AND BUGSY

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

		MEYER
	Fourth floor.

INT: FOURTH FLOOR LANDING - DAY

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

INT: MOLIARI APARTMENT - DAY

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

		CHARLIE
	Let's get to work.

IN THE LIVING ROOM

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

IN THE BEDROOM

Charlie searches fruitlessly through a bureau.

							CUT TO:

INT: APARTMENT VESTIBULE - DAY

As Don Maranzano enters and heads up the stairs.

INT: MOLIARI BEDROOM - DAY

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

		CHARLIE
	He lends money. Gotta be a bank.

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

DON MARANZANO REACHES THE THIRD FLOOR LANDING

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

IN THE BEDROOM

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

PULLING UP HIS ZIPPER - CHARLIE CHARGES INTO THE LIVING ROOM

		CHARLIE
	Let's get outta here.

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

		MEYER
	This is a Jew job. Remember?

JUST OUTSIDE THE APARTMENT

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

INSIDE THE APARTMENT - THE BOYS GATHER BY THE DOOR

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

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

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

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

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

OUTSIDE THE DOOR - MARANZANO KNOCKS AGAIN

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

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

Maranzano's puzzled. Unsure of himself.

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

		MEYER
		(IN ENGLISH)
	Moliari? Up the stairs.

ON THE TABLE

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

AT THE DOOR

		DON MARANZANO
	Excuse me. I am sorry.

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

		DON MARANZANO
		(IN ITALIAN)
	Dirty thieving Jews!

							CUT TO:

INT: WAREHOUSE BASEMENT - DAY

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

		CHARLIE
	Four-twenty-eight.

		SIEGEL
	What's that divided four ways?

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

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

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

Charlie hands the envelope to Frankie.

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

							CUT TO:

INT: DETECTIVE MULLAVEY'S OFFICE - DAY

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

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

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

		DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
	Shane was a friend of yours?

		FRANK
	He was around...

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

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

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

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

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

		DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
	Inactive. Dead cases, so to speak.

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

		DETECTIVE MULLAVEY
	Might I?

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

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

Mullavey grabs Frankie's collar and twists it tight.

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

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

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

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

		FRANK
	Barone. It was Barone.

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

		MULLAVEY
	Knew it all the time.

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO FAMILY APARTMENT - NIGHT

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

		CHARLIE
	Missed ya, Mama.

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

		ROSALIE LUCIANO
	Salvatore!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charlie looks up from his lasagna. Matter of fact.

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

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

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

Charlie turns to his Mother.

		LUCIANO
		(IN ITALIAN)
	So long, Mama.

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

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

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

		LUCIANO
	You ain't always gonna be poor.

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

							DISSOLVE TO:

INT: RISTORANTE CASTELLAMARE - NIGHT SUPER: 1920

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

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

		WAITER
	A miracle. We have nothing.

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

The waiter shrugs and moves on.

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

MEYER LANSKY AND BUGSY SIEGEL

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

		MEYER
	So what's the good news.

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

		MEYER
	And the 15th Precinct?

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

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

		CHARLIE
	Fuck 'em.

The Boys mumble their assent. Bugsy nods toward Reina.

		CHARLIE
	Sure. Bring your friend over.

TOMMY REINA

shakes hands around the table. Takes a seat.

		SIEGEL
	Tommy Reina. Good pal. Better partner.

		CHARLIE
	From your mouth ta God's ear.

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

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

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

		CHARLIE
	Who's Nucky's friend?

Reina pauses and looks around the table.

		TOMMY REINA
	Arnold Rothstein.

The guys look to each other. Disbelieving.

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

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

Reina shrugs his shoulders. Charlie looks to Meyer.

		CHARLIE
	How ya figure?

Meyer ponders for a moment.

		MEYER
	It figures.

		SIEGEL
	Fuckin' right it figures.

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

No one raises an objection.

		CHARLIE
	What's the deadline?

		TOMMY REINA
	Monday. Cash. In Philly.

		CHARLIE
	Wednesday.

		TOMMY REINA
	I don't think they wanna wait.

		CHARLIE
	Wednesday. Or not at all.

		SIEGEL
	We could lose the deal!

		CHARLIE
	If we have to.

		TOMMY REINA
	Let me see what I can do.

A SHORT, ROUND YOUNG MAN IN A FLASHY TUXEDO

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

		AL CAPONE
	Get them bums outta here!

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

		CHARLIE
	When did Capone get back in town?

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

		CHARLIE
	So Chicago's been good to ya.

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

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

		AL CAPONE
	And a lot more. Can we talk?

Charlie looks around to the phalanx of bodyguards.

		CHARLIE
	Sure. What's with the brick wall?

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

INT: LIMOUSINE - NIGHT

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

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

Capone gestures at his finery, the limo.

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

		CHARLIE
	But ya got a Boss.

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

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

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

CAPONE

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

OUTSIDE THE CRASHED CARS

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

CAPONE LOOKS UP FROM THE FLOOR

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

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

LUCIANO

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

CHARLIE CRAWLS DOWN THE ALLEY

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

		CHARLIE
	That's three.

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

		CHARLIE
	Four!

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

		CHARLIE
	Five! Six!

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

THE GUNMAN

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

AS THE GUNMAN RACES PAST THE DUMPSTER

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

AS CHARLIE APPROACHES THE LIMOUSINE

Capone rises from his crouch in the back seat.

		CHARLIE
	Nobody kills a guy who owes me money.

							CUT TO:

INT: RAILROAD DINING CAR - DAY

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

THE WAITER LAYS A BOWL OF OATMEAL IN FRONT OF TOMMY

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

							CUT TO:

INT: HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY

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

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

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

ARNOLD ROTHSTEIN EMERGES FROM THE BEDROOM

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

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

Rothstein and Johnson settle into chairs opposite the sofa.

		CHARLIE
	When my money moves, I go with it.

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

Indignant, Tommy comes up in his seat.

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

Charlie silences Tommy with a gesture.

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

		CHARLIE
	We have a deal.

		NUCKY JOHNSON
	You asked for an extension.

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

		ROTHSTEIN
	Scotch is a very valuable commodity 
	these days.

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

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

Rothstein gestures for Nucky to cool down.

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

		ROTHSTEIN
	Could we step outside?

							CUT TO:

INT: HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY

Charlie follows Rothstein into the elevators.

		CHARLIE
	I got my partner in there!

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

							CUT TO:

INT: WANAMAKER'S DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY

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

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

The salesman nods and exits. Rothstein turns to Charlie.

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

Charlie inspects his new, elegant profile in the mirror.

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

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

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

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

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

							CUT TO:

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

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

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

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

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

Anna's father knocks on the table.

		ANNA'S FATHER
	Mahogany. Produce.

		ANNA'S MOTHER
	Enough produce.

He can't resist a final shot.

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

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

ON THE STREET BELOW

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

							CUT TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

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

		LUCIANO
	Rothstein put me on to this place.

SIEGEL STANDS BY THE BEDROOM DOOR

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

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

THE GUYS

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

		LUCIANO
	Meyer just finished the books.

		LANSKY
	A million bucks. In the last six 
	months.

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

CHARLIE STANDS TO ONE SIDE, ALONE AND CONTENT

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

							CUT TO:

BUGSY AS HE STUMBLES DRUNKENLY OUT THE FRONT DOOR

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

IN THE DIMLY LIT BLACK MARBLE BATH

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

							DISSOLVE TO:

INT: GAMBLING CLUB LOBBY - NIGHT

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

DON MARANZANO

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

INSIDE THE CLUB

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

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

Charlie shrugs. Bobby extends a hand.

		BOBBY CLOWES
	I'm Bobby Clowes. Kansas City.

		LUCIANO
	Charlie Luciano.

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

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

		BOBBY CLOWES
	The goddamned bastards.

		LUCIANO
	Tell me about it.

CHARLIE AND BOBBY

sit at a table in a corner of the club.

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

		LUCIANO
	Poor, yeah.

		BOBBY CLOWES
	But not you.

Charlie leans back and knocks on the wood paneled wall.

		VOICE
	Am I such bad luck?

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

		LUCIANO
	Don Maranzano. Welcome.

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

		LUCIANO
	Good liquor draws a good crowd.

		MARANZANO
	I must know more of you, my son.

		LUCIANO
	Not a lot ta know.

Maranzano voice takes on a faint edge of menace.

		MARANZANO
	Then perhaps you need to know me.

		LUCIANO
	Don, I'd be honored.

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

		BOBBY
	Who was that?

		LUCIANO
	My fuckin' meat packin' plant.

							CUT TO:

EXT: MANHASSET ESTATE - DAY

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

HALF A DOZEN POLO PLAYERS ON HORSEBACK

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

AN UNBROKEN LINE OF EXPENSIVE AUTOMOBILES

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Shuddup.

		SIEGEL
	Wanna know what I think?

		LUCIANO
	Spare us.

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

Charlie glares at Bugsy, but Bobby laughs.

		BOBBY CLOWES
	You got a point there, Bugsy.

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

		FRANK
	Hey. Whatever the hell works.

							CUT TO:

EXT: CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY

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

ANOTHER BOAT FLOATS INTO FRAME

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

							CUT TO:

INT: MANSION BALLROOM - NIGHT

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

IN THE ENTRY HALL

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

ON THE TERRACE

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

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

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

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

UPSTAIRS

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

ON THE TERRACE

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	Inside, they were talking of you.

		LUCIANO
	I can just imagine.

		GAY ORLOVA
	No. They envy you.

		LUCIANO
	For being a bootlegger?

		GAY ORLOVA
	For being a man.

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

TWO NEGRO CHAUFFEURS

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

SHOOTING THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD OF THE LIMOUSINE

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

AS CHARLIE WATCHES

Gay disappears through the billowing curtains into the house.

IN THE BALLROOM

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

							CUT TO:

INT: RISTORANTE CASTELLAMARE - DAY

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

AS CHARLIE ENTERS THE BACK ROOM

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

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

		LUCIANO
	The name's Charlie.

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

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

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

		MARANZANO
	My bambino, please.

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

AT THE TABLE

Charlie eats with the elaborate care of the newly arrived.

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

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

Maranzano leans back in his chair, appraising Charlie.

		MARANZANO
	And how many soldiers do you have?

		LUCIANO
	I've got friends.

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

		LUCIANO
	An' Masseria's got seven hundred.

Maranzano hisses at the mention of Masseria's name.

		MARANZANO
	He's an animal!

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

Maranzano slaps his palm on the table.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Thanks for lunch.

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

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

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

Maranzano blesses Charlie with a sweet, fatherly smile.

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

		LUCIANO
	What about the share.

		MARANZANO
	You get fifteen percent.

		LUCIANO
	I got partners.

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

		LUCIANO
	And the Jews?

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

							CUT TO:

CHARLIE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Siegel and Costello shrug a truce.

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

		LUCIANO
	So what is the problem?

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

A momentary silence falls over the group.

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

Costello mulls the logic.

		SIEGEL
	The deal's too good, Frankie

		FRANK
	What are ya thinkin', Charlie?

		LUCIANO
	That I got a smart Jew partner.

							CUT TO:

INT: TRAPANI SOCIAL CLUB - NIGHT

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

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

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

		TOMMY REINA
	Paisan! Merry Christmas!

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

Tommy grabs his balls.

		TOMMY REINA
	Like always, Bugs. Pregnant!

Tommy leans over to Charlie to whisper.

		TOMMY REINA
	So ya told Maranzano ta fuck off.

Charlie shakes his head "no".

		LUCIANO
	I sent him a case of Scotoch.

		TOMMY REINA
	Sure. A polite "fuck you".

		LUCIANO
	Where's Masseria?

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

AT THE CORNER TABLE

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

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

		CHARLIE
	Ya already look drunk ta me, Don.

Silence falls over the table.

		MASSERIA
	But not drunk enough!

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

		MASSERIA
	Buona fuckin' sera.

He busses Charlie on the cheek and whispers.

		MASSERIA
	Maranzano's tryin' ta kill me.

IN THE MEN'S ROOM

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

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

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

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

Masseria punctuates his tirade with a blast of intestinal 
gas.

		LUCIANO
	If ever I need a Boss, Joe.

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

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

		MASSERIA
	I like that.

		LUCIANO
	Whatta ya mean, Boss?

		MASSERIA
	Ya piss like a man.

							CUT TO:

INT: BOBBY CLOWES APARTMENT - NIGHT

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

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

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

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

		ANNA
	You're an importer also?

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

		FRANK
	Well...

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

		FRANK
	That's it.

AT THE FRONT DOOR

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

		SIEGEL
	Where's the stiff?

		LUCIANO
	Come on. Be polite.

Bugsy slips his coat back over his shoulders.

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

		LUCIANO
	Jesus.

		SIEGEL
	Hell. It's been four days!

CHARLIE WALKS OUT ONTO A BALCONY OVERLOOKING CENTRAL PARK

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

		BOBBY
	Come join the Polar Bear Club.

Gay lights up as Charlie approaches.

		BOBBY
	Charlie, Gay Orlova.

		LUCIANO
	We already met.

Bobby quickly sizes up the situation.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	You here with Bobby?

		GAY ORLOVA
	No. I'm here with you.

This evokes a shy smile from Charlie.

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

Gay snuggles against Charlie, shivering.

		GAY ORLOVA
	It's so cold out here.

Charlie embraces her, brushing her hair with his hand.

		LUCIANO
	There are warmer places.

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

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

ANOTHER ANGLE

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

CURLED UP TOGETHER

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	Are you frightened?

		CHARLIE
	Why should I be?

A smile edges across Gay's face.

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

Charlie pulls her closer.

		GAY ORLOVA
	I had everything. Once.

		CHARLIE
	So what happened?

		GAY ORLOVA
	Life knocked me back.

		CHARLIE
	I came into this world flat on my 
	ass.

		GAY ORLOVA
	And now you have everything.

		CHARLIE
	No. Not everything.

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

		CHARLIE
	I guess I am. Just a little.

		GAY ORLOVA
	What do you mean?

		CHARLIE
	Scared.

							DISSOLVE TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S BEDROOM - MORNING

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

GAY ORLOVA

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

		LUCIANO
	What's the matter?

		GAY ORLOVA
	I must be going.

IN THE LIVING ROOM

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

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	I'm already late.

		LUCIANO
	For what?

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	Answer your phone.

Charlie moves to the phone.

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

		LANSKY
		(ON PHONE)
	We got problems, Charlie.

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

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

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

Silently, Charlie curses his fate.

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: A SEASIDE HOUSE - DAY

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

INT: NUCKY JOHNSON'S HOUSE - DAY

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

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

		LUCIANO
	I turned him down flat.

Rothstein turns around and fixes his gaze on Charlie.

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

		LUCIANO
	Masseria's been after me too.

		ROTHSTEIN
	Thank you for keeping me informed.

		LUCIANO
	We were overdue to get hit.

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

		LUCIANO
	We can operate around these guys.

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

		LUCIANO
	Okay. I'm listening.

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

Rothstein cups his hands in front of him.

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

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

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

Charlie ponders for a moment.

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

		NUCKY JOHNSON
	Spill it.

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

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

		ROTHSTEIN
	Who's is it?

Nucky can't help but smile.

		NUCKY JOHNSON
	Don Maranzano's.

EXT: THE JERSEY WOODS - DUSK

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

UP THE ROAD

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

AT THE GRADE

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: ROAD - NIGHT

Headlights swing into view around a curve in the road.

INT: TRUCK - SAME

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

OUTSIDE THE TRUCK

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

INSIDE THE TRUCK

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

		DRIVER
		(IN ITALIAN)
	It was only an accident!

IN THE WOODS

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

SHOOTING THROUGH THE TRUCK WINDSHIELD

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

THE PANICKED DRIVER

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

SIEGEL FIRES AGAIN

shattering the windshield, then leaps back into the ditch.

THE TRUCK MOVES HALFWAY UP THE GRADE

where its rear wheels spin helplessly on the ice.

THE DRIVER SEES SIEGEL CLIMB BACK OUT OF THE DITCH

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

ON LUCIANO AND COSTELLO

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

LANSKY AND LUCIANO

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

SIEGEL RIPS THE TOP OFF A BAG OF ROCK SALT

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

COSTELLO -- ALSO MASKED

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

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

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

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

AMIDST THE STACKED CASES OF SCOTCH

stand two Guards in long coats.

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

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

		FIRST GUARD
	No!

Luciano and Lansky move in closer to Bugsy.

		LUCIANO
	Forget it.

		SIEGEL
	Fuck 'em.

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

SIEGEL

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

TRUCK HORN BLASTS

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

THE DRIVER BREAKS AWAY FROM COSTELLO

and dives into the foliage of the fallen tree.

GUNMEN

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

LUCIANO

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

COSTELLO AND LANSKY

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

ON THE ROOF OF THE SECOND TRUCK

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

AS THE TRUCK ROARS TO LIFE - COSTELLO AND LANSKY

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

SIEGEL CONTINUES TO BLAST AWAY

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

BUGSY RETREATS TO THE DEPARTING TRUCK

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

OUTSIDE THE TRUCK

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

INSIDE THE TRUCK

Charlie slams a fist against the steering wheel.

		LUCIANO
	SHIT!

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

		LANSKY
	We'll figure out something.

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

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO FAMILY DINING ROOM - NIGHT

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

		ANTONIO LUCIANO
	LEAVE IT ALONE!

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

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

OUTSIDE THE DOOR

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

		CHARLIE
	When the old man calms down give him 
	this.

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S BEDROOM - DAY

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

IN THE LIVING ROOM - LANSKY, COSTELLO, AND SIEGEL

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

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

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

		LANSKY
	Come off it, Bugs.

		SIEGEL
		(mocking)
	Come off it, Bugs.

		LANSKY
	Ben-jamin.

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

		SIEGEL
	Is it blood ya want?

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

		SIEGEL
	Tell me when ya got enough.

Lansky shakes his head in disgust.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Wrap it.

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

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

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

		LUCIANO
	You wouldn't live out the week.

		LANSKY
	We got exactly two choices, Maranzano 
	or Masseria.

		SIEGEL
	They don't give a shit about us!

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

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

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Which is why he doesn't need us.

Frustrated at being ignored, Bugsy shouts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bugsy perks up.

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

		LUCIANO
	If it comes to that. Yeah.

Bugsy breaks into a broad grin.

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

									FADE TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S LIVING ROOM - EVENING

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

		LUCIANO
	Luciano.

		GAY ORLOVA
		(ON TELEPHONE)
	I was calling yesterday.

		LUCIANO
	Something came up.

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

		LUCIANO
	Same here.

		GAY ORLOVA
		(ON TELEPHONE)
	You're sure?

Under his robe, Charlie adjusts his suddenly swelling member.

		LUCIANO
	Yeah.

							CUT TO:

CLOSE - ON A DOOR

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

							DISSOLVE TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

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

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	It's a mask.

		LUCIANO
	You got something to hide?

		GAY ORLOVA
	It's too late.

		LUCIANO
	Have you thought about this?

		GAY ORLOVA
	Why? You're the innocent one.

		LUCIANO
	Guess I'm too confused to think.

She lifts his face in her hands.

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

							CUT TO:

INT: HALLWAY OF PENNSYLVANIA HOTEL - DAY

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

DOWN THE HALLWAY

as the Lug swings the door open for them.

		LUG
	Hope ya come hungry.

JOE MASSERIA

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
	I'm glad ya come.

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
	You boys carryin' pieces?

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

		MASSERIA
	See if these two are my friends.

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

		MASSERIA
	So eat.

SOMETIME LATER

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

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

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Never threaten me, Boss.

Masseria's only response is a cold stare.

		LUCIANO
	But yeah, I'll join up.

Beaming with pleasure, Masseria picks up another pastry.

		LUCIANO
	Under the right conditions.

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

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

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

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

Masseria nods again.

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

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

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

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

LUCIANO

regards the tantrum with amused detachment.

MASSERIA

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

COSTELLO

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

MASSERIA GRABS THE ARMS OF CHARLIE'S CHAIR

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

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

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

		LUCIANO
	I guess we got a deal.

							CUT TO:

INT: A WOOD-PANELED CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

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

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

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

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

Charlie rises out of his seat and circles the table.

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

		CATANIA
	What about Lansky and Siegel?

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

The guys all laugh.

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

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

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

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

Everybody laughs but Vito.

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

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

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
	This business is about taking risks.

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

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

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

Masseria thinks a moment, then nods decisively in agreement.

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

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

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

		LUCIANO
	Come on, what's the problem?

Lansky shakes his head "no". Shrugs noncommittally.

		LUCIANO
	Meyer.

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

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

		LANSKY
	No. We ain't even...

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

		LANSKY
	Guess I'm not a single type guy.

		LUCIANO
	Whatta ya mean? It's great!

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

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

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

		LANSKY
	I been thinkin'...

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Like a party for all our friends.

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

Charlie smiles.

		LUCIANO
	Like Don Maranzano.

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

		LUCIANO
	I'll handle the Boss.

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

		LUCIANO
	How soon can we pull this off?

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

Charlie shoots Meyer a judgmental look.

		LUCIANO
	Your honeymoon, Meyer?

		LANSKY
	Might as well put the time to use.

INT: A JEWISH TEMPLE - AFTERNOON

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

							CUT TO:

INT: ANNA'S FAMILY'S APARTMENT - EVENING

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

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

Anna's Mother nods to Masseria.

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

Anna's Father shrugs.

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

FROM A CORNER OF THE LIVING ROOM

Gay stands with Charlie, eyeing Anna piteously.

		GAY ORLOVA
	You could have stopped him.

		LUCIANO
	Ya never tell a guy about a broad.

		GAY ORLOVA
	So you all make the same mistakes?

		LUCIANO
	Gives us something in common.

Gay plucks Charlie's champagne glass from his hand.

		GAY ORLOVA
	I wish I could disagree.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	He's trying to make it.

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

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

		MASSERIA
	What the fuck does that mean?

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

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

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

Charlie leans in to whisper a confidence.

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

Masseria nods in affirmation.

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

Charlie taps himself on the chest.

		LUCIANO
	Don't I make the Boss look good?

Masseria laughs and slaps Charlie across the back.

							CUT TO:

EXT: THE BREAKERS HOTEL - ATLANTIC CITY - DAY

A long black limousine pulls up the circular drive.

IN THE LOBBY

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

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

The Clerk betrays himself with a slight, condescending smile.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Mr. and Mrs. Charles Luther.

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

Charlie fixes the Clerk with a murderous stare.

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

OUTSIDE THE HOTEL

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

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

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

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

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

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

INSIDE THE LOBBY

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

		AL CAPONE
	Had it custom made.

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

Capone extends a hand across the counter.

		AL CAPONE
	Mista Albert Caper.

The Clerk reluctantly shakes his hand.

		REGISTRATION CLERK
	Excuse me, Mr. Caper.

The Clerk disappears, then reappears trailing the Manager.

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

		AL CAPONE
	I ain't no fuckin' kike!

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

		AL CAPONE
	And I ain't no nigger either!

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

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

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

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

		MANAGER
	You own a hotel, sir?

		AL CAPONE
	The Bismark in Chicago. You familiar?

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

		MANAGER
	A fine establishment, Mr. Caper.

Capone YANKS the tie, pulling the manager closer.

		AL CAPONE
	And the name ain't Caper.

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

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

Releasing the Manager's tie, Capone turns around.

		HOUSE DETECTIVE
	Mister Capone! Excuse me.

Behind them, the Manager falls in a dead faint.

							CUT TO:

EXT: THE BOARDWALK - MORNING

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

AT THE END OF THE BOARDWALK

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

BUGSY SIEGEL AND MOE DALITZ

walk as the surf washes over their feet.

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

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

		SIEGEL
	There ain't no Boss.

FRANK COSTELLO

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

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

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

		ALBERT SCALISE
	But who's the Boss?

Costello shakes his head in frustration.

		FRANK
	There ain't no Boss.

Scalise looks skeptically to Costello.

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

AS COSTELLO AND SCALISE EXIT THE FRAME

Meyer Lansky and BOO-BOO HOFF enter.

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

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

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

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

		LANSKY
	Boo-Boo.

		BOO-BOO HOFF
	Not another word.

CHARLIE ENTERS THE FRAME

his arm around the shoulder of Al Capone.

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

		LUCIANO
	You've got the public upset, Al.

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

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

		AL CAPONE
	What are ya tellin' me, Charlie?

Charlie stops and grips Capone by both shoulders.

		LUCIANO
	We're asking you to go to prison.

		AL CAPONE
	But I've never served a day.

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

		AL CAPONE
	Awwh, Charlie.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Al, you owe me one.

Capone kicks the sand.

		AL CAPONE
	Shit!

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S OFFICE - DAY

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

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

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

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

		MAD DOG COLL
	You own the motherfuckin' police!

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

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

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

IN THE HALLWAY

Coll enters the elevator, nodding to the Operator.

		MAD DOG COLL
	First floor.

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

		FIRST THUG
	Basement.

IN CHARLIE'S OFFICE

Vito sticks his head through the door.

		VITO NOTO
	Boss wants you right away.

							CUT TO:

INT: MASSERIA'S LIMOUSINE - DAY

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

		LUCIANO
	Where we headed?

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

		LUCIANO
	Boss, I got all the time you need.

		MASSERIA
	I know about you.

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
	MONEY DON'T MEAN SHIT!

		LUCIANO
	Didn't know you felt that way.

Masseria hauls off and backhands Charlie across the face.

		MASSERIA
	Don't you smart talk me!

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

OUTSIDE THE LIMOUSINE

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

BACK IN THE LIMO

Masseria slaps a pistol into Charlie's palm.

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

		LUCIANO
	You gotta plan these things.

		MASSERIA
	And I got it all planned.

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
	You're wasting my time, Charlie.

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

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

CHARLIE AND VITO CLIMB OUT OF THE LIMO

and the Henchman climbs behind the wheel.

		HENCHMAN
	The motor's runnin'.

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: THE FORT LEE HIGHLANDS - DAY

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

THE BODY

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: THE ALLEYWAY - LATE AFTERNOON

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

THIN OLD MAN

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

VITO HEADS DOWN THE SIDEWALK

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

AS THE PAYROLL MESSENGER ENTERS THE ALLEY

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

VITO SLOWS AS HE SPOTS A POLICEMAN ON HORSEBACK

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

AT THE SERVICE ENTRANCE TO SEVENTH AVENUE FASHIONS

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

AS THE PAYROLL MESSENGER

nears Seventh Avenue Fashions, Vito hurries to catch him.

ACROSS THE STREET

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

VITO TACKLES THE PAYROLL MESSENGER

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

VITO SCRAMBLES TO HIS FEET

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

AS THE TRUCK FINALLY PASSES

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

ABOVE THE ELEVATOR

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

ON THE YOUNG MAN LEANING THROUGH THE RACK

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

CHARLIE GARBS THE RACK AND JERKS IT DOWN INTO THE STREET

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

THE MOUNTED POLICEMAN

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

ON THE POLICEMAN

as he and his horse tumble to the pavement.

CHARLIE PUSHES VITO INTO THE BACK SEAT OF THE CAR

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

BEHIND THE CAR

the Dismounted Policeman fires, shattering the rear window.

INSIDE THE CAR

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

AN HASIDIC JEW CARRYING A PACKAGE

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

CHARLIE SLAMS ON THE BRAKES

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

CHARLIE BEATS ON THE STEERING WHEEL

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

CONSUMED WITH RAGE

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

ON THE STREET

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: CEMETERY - DAY

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

LUCIANO

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

LANSKY, SIEGEL, AND COSTELLO

wait in the limousine as Charlie climbs in.

		LUCIANO
	Bastard didn't even show.

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

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

Lansky shoots Charlie a skeptical look.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	I'll do fine.

		SIEGEL
	Maranzano wants you dead.

		LUCIANO
	Yeah. But he needs me alive.

							CUT TO:

INT: ARNOLD ROTHSTEIN'S APARTMENT - DAY

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

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

Luciano turns away from the window. Impatient.

		LUCIANO
	Who first? And when?

Rothstein explodes.

		ROTHSTEIN
	TACTICS! Always tactics!

Recovering his composure, Rothstein continues.

		ROTHSTEIN
	Strategy.

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

		ROTHSTEIN
	The Big Picture.

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

		ROTHSTEIN
	So change it.

This strikes Charlie like a prophecy from Delphi.

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

		LUCIANO
	And what do you want out of this?

		ROTHSTEIN
	A peaceful and prosperous retirement.

							CUT TO:

EXT: STATEN ISLAND FERRY - NIGHT

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: STATEN ISLAND SHIPPING PIER - NIGHT

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

		MARANZANO
	It's been too long, my bambino.

The Don embraces his Prodigal Son.

INSIDE A DARK, EMPTY WAREHOUSE

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

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

		LUCIANO
	I found that out.

		MARANZANO
	We learn from life.

		LUCIANO
	That's why I'm here.

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

Maranzano grasps Charlie's hands.

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

		LUCIANO
	I'll take care of the Boss.

His hands tighten around Charlie's.

		MARANZANO
	Not Masseria. The Jews.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	I don't fuck my partners.

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

Charlie pulls himself free from Maranzano's grasp.

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

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

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

										CUT TO BLACK:

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

							CUT TO:

CHARLIE'S BATTERED FACE

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

MARANZANO NODS

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

		MARANZANO
	Enough!

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

		MARANZANO
	One word, and all this will end.

Charlie stares at Maranzano, then croaks his response.

		LUCIANO
	No.

Maranzano shakes his head and nods to the man smoking

		MARANZANO
	Always the wrong word, Charlie.

CLOSE ON CHARLIE

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

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

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

		MARANZANO
	Why must you hurt me like this?

CHARLIE JERKS HIS KNEE UP INTO MARANZANO'S GROIN

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

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

							DISSOLVE TO:

EXT: A DESERTED ROAD - DAWN

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

							CUT TO:

INT: HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	Pull yourself toward me.

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	I booked passage to London.

		LUCIANO
	London?

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

Angry, Charlie throws the damp washcoth in her face.

		LUCIANO
	What the hell is wrong with you!

Gay struggles to hold back her tears.

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

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

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

BUGSY SIEGEL STICKS HIS HEAD IN THE DOOR

only to be greeted by Charlie's bare ass.

		SIEGEL
	You're lookin' better already.

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

		LUCIANO
	Where's the morphine!

Costello and Lansky follow Siegel into the room.

		LANSKY
	You're getting' 10 cc's

		LUCIANO
	I told you twenty!

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

		FRANK
	Relax, Charlie.

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

		LUCIANO
	You bastards, I said twenty!

		LANSKY
	It'll just be a few minutes.

		LUCIANO
	I NEED THE TWENTY!

But Charlie realizes that his protests are to no avail.

		LUCIANO
	Fuck you all.

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

		LUCIANO
	Not you!

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

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

		LUCIANO
		(bitter)
	Guess I'm just lucky.

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

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

		LUCIANO
	You got men on Profaci's place?

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

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

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Who?

		LANSKY
	Tommy Reina.

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

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

		SIEGEL
	Why's it gotta be Tommy!

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

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

Siegel explodes.

		SIEGEL
	JESUS CHRIST WILL YA LISTEN TO ME!

Now he has their attention.

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

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

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

		SIEGEL
	Yeah. And no more Tommy Reina.

							CUT TO:

EXT: STATEN ISLAND STREET - DAY

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

ON THE BALCONY OF THE FIRST HOUSE

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

INSIDE A BEDROOM OFF THE BALCONY

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S APARTMENT - DAY

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

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

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

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Bye, Frank.

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

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

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

Charlie twists her arm, and Gay yelps in pain.

		LUCIANO
	I meant just what I said.

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

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

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	That's why I understand you.

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

		GAY ORLOVA
	Would it be painful for you?

		LUCIANO
	It always is.

							CUT TO:

CLOSE - ON CHARLIE'S FACE

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

							CUT TO:

INT: PROFACI HOUSE - DAY

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

IN THE LIVING ROOM

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

OUTSIDE THE HOUSE

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

THE PAINTER ON THE BALCONY NEXT DOOR

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

COSTELLO

hurtles out the front door and races toward the street.

AT PROFACI'S FRONT DOOR

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

AT THE TRUCK

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

ON THE PORCH

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

		FRANK
	Drop the package!

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

COSTELLO DROPS TO ONE KNEE AND SHOOTS

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

INSIDE THE HOUSE

Profaci herds his Daughter and Wife down into the basement.

ON THE PORCH

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

COSTELLO KNEELS ON THE LAWN

waiting for the Deliveryman to reappear.

INSIDE THE HOUSE

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

ON THE FRONT PORCH

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

THE FRONT PORCH EXPLODES IN A BALL OF FIRE

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

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

Costello shrugs.

		FRANK
	Deliveryman had the wrong address.

							CUT TO:

INT: SIEGEL'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

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

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

Siegel looks at his watch.

		SIEGEL
	Yeah. I got time.

							CUT TO:

EXT: A BROOKLYN STREET - NIGHT

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

THE FRONT DOOR TO ONE OF THE BROWNSTONES

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

AS REINA MOVES DOWN THE SIDEWALK

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

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

		SIEGEL
	Just wanted ta say hello.

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

		SIEGEL
	Know something Tommy? You're a mensch.

		REINA
	That a Jew compliment?

		SIEGEL
	Best we got.

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

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

CLOSE - ON THE TRUNK OF SIEGEL'S CAR

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

		SIEGEL
	Take any one ya like.

		REINA
	Kinda early for Christmas, Bugs.

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

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

		SIEGEL
	Ya got a eye for a tool.

Siegel tilts the barrel toward his own temple.

		SIEGEL
	Blow a fella's brains clean out.

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

		REINA
	You're fuckin' crazy.

		SIEGEL
	But only on purpose, Tommy.

		REINA
	This is nice. I mean it.

Siegel taps his chest over his heart.

		SIEGEL
	From here, Paisan.

A shy smile flickers across Tommy's face.

		REINA
	See ya around.

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

		SIEGEL
	Oh, Tommy.

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

		SIEGEL
	It's a bad world.

The gun EXPLODES in Reina's face.

										CUT TO BLACK:

AND WE HEAR

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

							CUT TO:

TWO WATCHFUL BODYGUARDS - DAY

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

AT A CORNER NEWSSTAND

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

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

A CADILLAC LIMOUSINE PULLS TO THE CURB

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

OUTSIDE THE THIRD LIMO

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: STAKE-OUT APARTMENT - DAY

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

IN THE BATHROOM - AN OLDER TOUGH

sits on the toilet, reading an Italian newspaper.

IN THE BEDROOM

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

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

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

							CUT TO:

EXT: STREET IN FRONT OF APARTMENT - SAME

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

							CUT TO:

INT: STAKE-OUT APARTMENT - SAME

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

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: MASSERIA SAFE HOUSE APARTMENT - SAME

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
	That's just my problem.

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

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

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
		(pleading)
	Tell me, Charlie. Please.

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

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

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

							CUT TO:

INT: APARTMENT FOYER - DAY

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

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

INT: STAKE-OUT APARTMENT - SAME

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

IN THE COURTYARD - THE GUARDS

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

AS CHARLIE STEPS ASIDE TO LET MASSERIA PASS

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

CHARLIE

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

ONE OF THE GUARDS

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

DISGUSTED - LANSKY

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

THE TWO TOUGHS

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

THEY DASH ALONG A NARROW PASSAGEWAY

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

AT THE END OF THE PASSAGEWAY

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

AS THE YOUNG TOUGH BACKS UP

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

IN THE FOYER - MASSERIA

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

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

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

		LUCIANO
	Trust me.

							CUT TO:

EXT: THE BRONX ZOO - DAY

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

MARANZANO AND JOE PROFACI GIVE A FRIENDLY WAVE

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

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

		LUCIANO
	They do what I tell 'em.

		MARANZANO
	Salvatore. Always holding himself 
	above.

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

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

		MARANZANO
	We must be friends, Charlie.

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

		MARANZANO
	The terms will be mine.

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

		MARANZANO
	I will be the Boss of All Bosses.

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

He looks around to his partners,

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

		MARANZANO
	You disrespect our tradition.

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

		JOE PROFACI
	Charlie!

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

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

		MARANZANO
	I will not interfere with you.

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

		MARANZANO
	I am sorry for what I had to do.

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

		LUCIANO
	Forget it. That's past.

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

							CUT TO:

INT: MASSERIA'S OFFICE - DAY

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
	What are ya thinkin'?

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

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

		LUCIANO
	They're friends of our enemy.

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

		LUCIANO
	Not if they all die at once.

This sets Masseria back in his chair.

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

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

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

		MASSERIA
	A mother-fuckin' peace conference.

Masseria HOWLS with laughter. Charlie nods toward the Guards.

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

		MASSERIA
	But that's an hour's drive.

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

The Boss fairly drools at the prospect.

							CUT TO:

EXT: NUOVA VILLA TAMARO - DAY

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

INT: NUOVA VILLA TAMARO - SAME

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

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

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

		GERARDO
	Cassius?

		MASSERIA
	Yeah. Mean and hungry lookin'.

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

		MASSERIA
	The kid just called me stupid.

		LUCIANO
	Not stupid. Fat.

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

Gerardo nods in agreement.

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

Charlie looks at his watch.

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

		MASSERIA
	Come on, Charlie. We got business.

		LUCIANO
	Couple hands. No harm in it.

A WHILE LATER

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

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

Charlie tosses in his hand. Checks his watch again.

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

As Charlie gets up, Masseria pushes his chair back.

		MASSERIA
	Enough cards.

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

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

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

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

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

IN THE MEN'S ROOM

Charlie moves to a window, and pulls it open.

DOWN THE STREET FROM THE RESTAURANT

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

		LANSKY
	Let's go.

IN THE MEN'S ROOM

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

IN THE DINING ROOM

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

MASSERIA LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY

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

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

Siegel, Costello, and Lansky open fire.

MASSERIA JUMPS UP

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

IN THE MEN'S ROOM

Charlie hoists his zipper, then washes his hands.

IN THE DINING ROOM

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

		LUCIANO
	Operator. I need the police.

							CUT TO:

EXT: NUOVA VILLA TAMARO - NIGHT

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

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

		LUCIANO
	That's a lie!

The Captain tries to hurry Charlie through the crowd.

		LUCIANO
	You fellas want the true facts?

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

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

The reporters roar with laughter.

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

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

									FADE TO:

INT: GRAND CONCOURSE HALL - NIGHT

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

ON THE DAIS

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

MARANZANO RISES FROM HIS THRONE

and stretches out his arms in benediction.

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

Maranzano basks in the waves of applause as the mobsters 
stand and cheer. The rest of the dais rises, until only 
Charlie remains seated. After a moment, he to rises and 
applauds.

		MARANZANO
	In order to give you my complete and 
	objective leadership, I have turned 
	over all my personal business 
	interests to the other members of my 
	family.

The audience responds with enthusiastic applause.

		MARANZANO
	In return for my sacrifice, I will 
	receive a fair and proportionate 
	share of the proceeds of all the 
	families across the country.

Maranzano pauses, and is rewarded with a grudging response.

		MARANZANO
	Each of you will be part of one of 
	the five families, and the Capo for 
	each family will report personally 
	to me.

The men on the dais stand as he introduces them.

		MARANZANO
	Please pay your respects to our noble 
	leaders. Mr. Thomas Gagliano. Mr. 
	Joseph Bonnano. Mr. Joseph Profaci. 
	Mr. Vincent Mangano.

Maranzano turns toward Charlie.

		MARANZANO
	And Mr. Salvatore Luciano, who will 
	supervise the entire operation under 
	my direction.

The audience SHOUTS it's approval. Maranzano smiles uneasily 
as Charlie acknowledges the reception.

		MARANZANO
	I ask you now to come forward, to 
	show our unalterable unity as 
	brothers, dedicated only to the 
	highest of human values.

THE MOBSTERS LINE UP DOWN THE CENTER AISLE

Al Capone climbs the steps to the dais, hands a cash-stuffed 
envelope to the factotum at Maranzano's side, falls to his 
knees, and kisses the Don's jewel-encrusted ring.

IN THE BACK OF THE HALL

Frank Costello huddles with Boo Boo Hoff.

AS THE LAST MOBSTER RISES

from in front of Maranzano, The Don turns to the men behind 
him on the dais. Each moves in turn to Maranzano, hands over 
his envelope to the factotum, and kneels to kiss the ring.

COSTELLO APPROACHES CHARLIE ON THE DAIS

handing him a fat envelope for the Don. Luciano looks inside 
at the fistful of thousand dollar bills.

		FRANK
	Mad Dog Coll's in town on a job.

		LUCIANO
	Who hired the bastard?

		FRANK
	Maranzano. Ta ice you.

CHARLIE HOLDS HIS GROUND FOR A MOMENT

then claps Costello solidly across the back. He moves to 
Maranzano, handing his envelope directly to the Boss.

CLOSE - ON LUCIANO AS HE KNEELS

struggling against his urge to kill Maranzano here and now. 
He presses his lips against the ring.

		MARANZANO
	I am your Papa now.

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO APARTMENT - NIGHT

Luciano, Costello, Siegel and Lansky huddle in the living 
room, still in their evening wear.

		FRANK
	I ain't sure there is a way ta get 
	at Maranzano. Masseria tried for six 
	months and never got a shot.

Charlie glowers at the others.

		LUCIANO
	There's a way. We just ain't thinkin' 
	hard enough.

A deadly silence falls over the room.

IN THE DARKENED BEDROOM - SAME

Gay stands by the window gazing out into the night, the 
remnants of a drink in her hand. She spots a man looking up 
at the window from the street several floors below, and draws 
the curtains over the window.

ON THE STREET - SAME

A BURST OF FLAME illuminates the sinister face of Mad Dog 
Coll as he lights a cigarette.

IN THE BEDROOM

Gay peeks through the curtains at Coll.

IN THE LIVING ROOM - SAME

The boys sit in pained silence, desperate for an idea that 
will save their lives. Gay walks in from the bedroom, drink 
in hand.

		GAY ORLOVA
	Charlie?

		LUCIANO
		(snapping)
	I'm doin' business here!

		GAY ORLOVA
	But there's...

Grabbing a bottle of Scotch, Charlie thrusts it at Gay.

		LUCIANO
	Here. That hold a while?

Hurt, Gay retreats to the bedroom. Charlie winces, knowing 
he's fucked up.

IN THE BEDROOM

Gay lays across the bed, her face buried in a pillow. Charlie 
enters, closing the door behind himself.

		LUCIANO
	I'm gettin' more like my old man 
	every year.

Gay rolls over, teary eyed, as Charlie sits down next to 
her.

		GAY ORLOVA
	I'm gonna lose you, Charlie.

		LUCIANO
	It'll all be over tomorrow. No more 
	wars. No more killin'. Just livin' 
	normal like everybody else.
		(a beat)
	You'll be stuck with me for good.

Gay pulls herself into his embrace, wanting to believe it.

		LUCIANO
	Your friends in London still have 
	that house in the country?

Gay shakes her head "yes".

		LUCIANO
	If you wanted to get married, maybe 
	we could honeymoon there.

Choking back her tears, Gay shakes her head "yes" again. 
Charlie turns Gay's face to his own, and kisses her.

		LUCIANO
	Is it okay if I go back to work?

Smiling through tears, Gay nods "yes" once again. The camera 
pans up from the bed to the window. Below, WE SEE Mad Dog 
Coll still waiting on the street.

BACK IN THE LIVING ROOM

Charlie, suppressing a smile, plops down into a chair amidst 
his disheartened pals. He baits Meyer.

		LUCIANO
	Meyer, ain't anybody ever told you 
	ya look more like a bookkeeper than 
	a fuckin' mobster?

		LANSKY
	What's your problem?

		LUCIANO
	It's just that Maranzano's the only 
	bastard I ever heard brag about 
	gettin' audited by the IRS. He came 
	out clean, so he thinks his shit 
	don't stink.

		LANSKY
	Is there a fuckin' point comin' up 
	anytime soon?

		LUCIANO
	Seein' he loved the experience so 
	much, I think we outta give him the 
	pleasure again.

							CUT TO:

INT: LUCIANO BEDROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT

Charlie slips into the bed, being careful not to wake the 
sleeping Gay. He snuggles close to her, and inhales deeply 
the aroma of her body.

							CUT TO:

INT: HALLWAY OUTSIDE LUCIANO APARTMENT - SAME

A pair of burly BODYGUARDS in tuxedos stand watch outside 
Charlie's door. The First Bodyguard sits on a folding chair 
by the door. The Second Bodyguard leans against the wall 
opposite.

DOWN THE HALLWAY

The door to the stairway cracks open. Mad Dog Coll peers 
out.

BACK WITH THE BODYGUARDS

They chat amiably.

ON THE STAIRCASE

Coll sits on the landing, smoking a cigarette.

BY LUCIANO'S FRONT DOOR

The First Bodyguard sleeps soundly in the folding chair. The 
Second Bodyguard moves from one wall to the other, looking 
for a comfortable stance, crazy with boredom.

ON THE STAIRCASE

Coll puts out his cigarette in a pile of butts by his side.

INSIDE CHARLIE'S BATHROOM

As Charlie splashes water on his face at the sink.

IN THE BEDROOM

The light of dawn seeps through the curtains. Charlie enters 
from the bath and crosses to the bed, where Gay lay sleeping. 
Charlie leans across the bed and busses her cheek. She wakes 
up, mildly irritated, and pulls the covers up over her head 
to shut out the light.

IN THE KITCHEN

Charlie measures spoonfuls of ground coffee into the pot, 
and turns on the burner. Pulling a tray out of a cabinet, he 
sets two cups, two saucers, and a covered sugar bowl on it.

IN THE HALLWAY

The Second Bodyguard stands with his shoulder against the 
wall, facing toward the apartment door, filing his nails. 
The First Bodyguard still sleeps by the door.

CLOSE - ON THE SECOND BODYGUARD

As he digs under one of his nails with the file, intent on 
the job. A shadow looms. A hand clasps over his mouth from 
behind. His body goes rigid. The tip of a knife BURSTS from 
under his larynx. As he struggles, the knife ROTATES 180 
degrees in his neck. Blood gurgles out of his mouth as his 
eyes roll back in his head. He slides along the wall to the 
floor.

MAD DOG COLL

stoops to wipe his bloody hands on the dead man's tuxedo.

CLOSE - ON THE FACE OF THE FIRST BODYGUARD

who seems to stir awake, then doze off again, then finally 
rouse himself to consciousness. As his eyes blink open, a 
knife comes crashing into the top of his skull, freezing his 
bemused expression for eternity. He slumps over in his chair, 
the knife still planted in his head. Coll fishes the keys to 
the apartment from the man's pocket.

IN THE KITCHEN

Charlie lifts the coffee pot off of the stove AT THE FRONT 
DOOR - COLL ENTERS THE APARTMENT

Closing the door behind himself, and moving toward the 
bedroom.

IN THE KITCHEN

Charlie pours the coffee into the cups, and lifts the tray.

IN THE BEDROOM - COLL PULLS A PISTOL FROM HIS JACKET

and he moves toward the covered figure on the bed.

CHARLIE

moves through the living room with the tray. As he reaches 
the hallway that leads to the bedroom, he lifts the cover of 
the sugar bowl. It's empty. Muttering to himself, Charlie 
turns back toward the kitchen.

IN THE BEDROOM

Coll wraps a pillow around his pistol. Lowers it to Gay's 
head.

IN THE KITCHEN

Charlie holds the sugar bowl as he searches for the sugar. 
At the sound of the muffled shot, he drops the sugar bowl 
and it shatters on the floor.

IN THE BEDROOM

Coll reacts to the crash of the sugar bowl. Runs from the 
room.

CHARLIE RUNS TO THE LIVING ROOM

As Coll disappears through the front door.

AT THE DOOR - CHARLIE

Stands over the dead bodyguards. He can hear the sound of 
footsteps racing down the stairway. He turns back and looks 
down the hall toward the bedroom. His face filled with dread.

							CUT TO:

ENTRANCE TO LUCIANO'S BUILDING - DAY

Onlookers and reporters crowd around the entrance as three 
covered stretchers are loaded into the back of a hearse at 
the curb. The NYPD Captain who ran interference after 
Masseria's murder emerges with a consoling arm around 
Costello's shoulder.

		CAPTAIN
	Whatever the department can do, Frank. 
	Let me know.

		FRANK
	Just let the press boys think 
	Charlie's ridin' the hearse.

							CUT TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S STUDY - DAY

Charlie sits at a desk, with the telephone book open before 
him. He dials a number. His voice as lifeless as a recording.

		FIRST OPERATOR
		(ON PHONE)
	Park Terrace Hotel.

		LUCIANO
	Herman Coll, please.

		FIRST OPERATOR
		(ON PHONE)
	I'm sorry, but we have no Mr. Coll 
	registered, sir.

Charlie hangs up. Dials the next number out of the book.

		SECOND OPERATOR
		(ON PHONE)
	Pennsylvania Hotel.

		LUCIANO
	Herman Coll, please.

		SECOND OPERATOR
		(ON PHONE)
	I don't find a Mr. Coll in our 
	registry, are you sure...

Charlie hangs up. Dials the next number listed.

		THIRD OPERATOR
		(ON PHONE)
	Post Hotel.

		LUCIANO
	Herman Coll, please.

		THIRD OPERATOR
		(ON PHONE)
	One moment please... That number is 
	busy. Would you care to hold?

Charlie hangs up without replying. Opens a drawer in the 
desk and pulls out a pistol.

							CUT TO:

INT: ROOM AT POST HOTEL - DAY

Coll paces with the phone in his hand, his luggage packed 
and ready for a quick departure.

		MAD DOG COLL
	I don't care if he's in the crapper 
	with the trots, I got information 
	he's gonna wanna hear.

After a moment, Maranzano comes on the line.

		MARANZANO
		(ON PHONE)
	Yes?

		MAD DOG COLL
	I'm comin' for my twenty thousand.

		MARANZANO
		(ON PHONE)
	Luciano is dead?

		MAD DOG COLL
	Open a window. Every newsboy in town's 
	screamin' about it.

							CUT TO:

INT: MARANZANO'S INNER OFFICE - DAY

Maranzano hangs up the phone, and turns to the bar behind 
his desk. Fishing a bottle of fifty year old brandy from the 
back, he pours himself a measure. Holding the snifter up to 
his nose, he savors the smell of victory, then downs the 
brandy.

							CUT TO:

INT: ANOTHER HOTEL ROOM - DAY

Three men with pronounced Semitic features change into 
conservative business attire. One opens a leather briefcase 
filled with gleaming knifes.

IN THE BATHROOM - MEYER LANSKY

applies a false moustache to his upper lip. Slips wire-rimmed 
glasses over his ears. Looking as menacing as an undertaker.

							CUT TO:

INT: POST HOTEL LOBBY - DAY

Coll steps off an elevator and crosses the lobby, smiling to 
himself as he passes a man hidden behind a newspaper headlined 
"LUCIANO'S LUCK RUNS OUT" over a photo of Charlie. As Coll 
exits, the newspaper lowers to reveal a grim-faced Luciano.

							CUT TO:

EXT: ON THE STREET - DAY

Coll heads into a department store.

INT: STORE MEN'S DEPARTMENT - DAY

A salesman carrying two suits accompanies Coll to a changing 
booth. Coll disappears behind the curtain. Inside the booth 
Coll frowns as he tries on a jacket. The sleeves are two 
short. He calls out for the salesman.

		MAD DOG COLL
	Bring me a 42.

The curtain snaps open. Luciano jams a gun under Coll's chin 
and squeezes inside the booth with him.

		LUCIANO
	What about a .45?

Coll blinks, not believing his eyes.

		LUCIANO
	Just goes ta show, Mad Dog. Don't 
	believe everything ya read in the 
	newspapers.

"Mad Dog" suddenly looks like a rabbit caught in the 
headlights on an oncoming car.

		LUCIANO
	Even scum like you ain't supposed ta 
	hit a guy at home. Where the people 
	he cares about find refuge from this 
	fucked up world. But then you always 
	said the rules didn't apply ta Mad 
	Dog Coll.

LUCIANO PUSHES COLL THROUGH THE LADIES' DEPARTMENT

His gun jammed into Coll's back. They pass a pair of older 
matrons at the lingerie counter. Coll grabs one of the matrons 
by her strand of pearls and spins her around, shoving her 
screaming into Charlie's path. Coming up flush on Charlie's 
gun, she dissolves into hysterics.

COLL RUNS THROUGH THE LADIES' DEPARTMENT

Knocking merchandise and mannequins into Charlie's path. 
Screaming women scatter, as Charlie tackles Coll, catching 
him around the ankles. Charlie loses his gun, and it slides 
across the slick floor. Coll crashes into a jewelry display 
counter, shattering the glass. An alarm RINGS.

HIS LEG HURT IN THE FALL - CHARLIE CRAWLS TOWARD THE GUN

as the Department store Manager and two Security Guards come 
charging down the aisle. As Charlie reaches for the gun, 
Coll snatches it up, and levels it at Charlie. The Store 
manager calls out from behind.

		STORE MANAGER
	MY GOOD SIR! WHAT DO YOU THINK...

Coll turns on his heel and plants a bullet deep into the 
Manager's forehead, knocking him flat on his back. The 
Security Guards dive for cover. Charlie crawls behind a 
display case. Coll charges for the door.

OUTSIDE

Coll shoves an older man away from the door of a cab and 
climbs inside. He jams his gun into the back of the driver's 
head.

		MAD DOG COLL
	425 Park Avenue.

							CUT TO:

EXT: 425 PARK AVENUE - DAY

A car pulls to the curb in front of the office building. 
Lansky and his "accountants" get out, briefcases in hand.

							CUT TO:

INT: MARANZANO'S INNER OFFICE - DAY

Maranzano sits at his desk. Two Bodyguards hover by the door. 
His intercom buzzes.

		MARANZANO
	What is it, Grace?

		GRACE
		(ON INTERCOM)
	There are some men here from the 
	Internal Revenue. They say they need 
	to speak to you personally.

		MARANZANO
	I'll be out.

IN THE OUTER OFFICE

Lansky stays to the back of the group as the "accountants" 
open their briefcases. The Bodyguards emerge from the inner 
office, followed by a jovial Maranzano.

		MARANZANO
	You government people are never 
	satisfied to do something once.

The accountants pull their weapons from their briefcases and 
aim them at the Boss and his Bodyguards. Lansky steps forward.

		LANSKY
	Take him inside.

Lansky and the First Accountant shove Maranzano into his 
office. The other Accountants push the Bodyguards against 
the wall and pat them down.

IN THE INNER OFFICE

Lansky pulls out two knives and tosses one to the First 
Accountant.

		LANSKY
	We don't want to disturb your 
	neighbors.

As Lansky advances, Maranzano backs up, begging, "No. Please. 
No." Lansky plunges his knife deep into Maranzano's chest.

IN THE OUTER OFFICE

The other two Accountants stand with their backs to the door, 
their guns trained on the Bodyguards. Grace sits trembling 
at her desk. She gasps as the door swings open.

MAD DOG COLL STEPS INSIDE

One of the Bodyguards turns toward the door, and Coll opens 
fire. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! He blasts away both Accountants 
and the Bodyguards. As an afterthought, he turns toward Grace, 
whimpering behind her desk. Can't have a witness running 
around. BLAM!

IN THE INNER OFFICE

Maranzano bellows like a dying elephant, swinging his arms 
wildly, trying to ward off the knives as he crawls backwards 
on the floor. Blood bubbles from his chest.

THE DOOR FLIES OPEN

The glass shattering as it slams against the wall. Mad Dog 
Coll stands in the doorway. His gun trained on Lansky. 
Maranzano gasps for air.

		MAD DOG COLL
	What a cozy little scene.

		MARANZANO
	Kill them! Kill them!

		MAD DOG COLL
	What's it worth to ya, Boss?

		MARANZANO
	Anything!

		MAD DOG COLL
	Anything ain't a very hard number.

		MARANZANO
	One hundred thousand. No... three 
	hundred thousand.

		MAD DOG COLL
	Now that's a hard number.

Coll aims carefully at Lansky. Squeezes the trigger. BLAM! 
COLL'S FOREHEAD EXPLODES.

CHARLIE STEPS INTO THE ROOM

A sawed-off shotgun smoking in his hands. He advances on 
Maranzano, whose whole body shakes. He lowers the barrel to 
Maranzano's head.

		LANSKY
	No way, Charlie.

Charlie trembles, fighting his lust for revenge, as Lansky 
moves to his side.

CLOSE - ON CHARLIE'S FACE

As Lansky takes the weapon from Charlie, and aims it at 
Maranzano. BLAM!

							CUT TO:

INT: CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

Thirty top mobsters are arrayed around a conference table. 
Mangano. Profaci. Bonnano. Anastasia. Gagliano. Dalitz. Hoff. 
Costello. Siegel. Lansky. A single chair, at the head of the 
table, remains empty. Al Capone sits to the right of it.

LUCIANO ENTERS THE ROOM

Looks around the table for a place to sit. Capone calls him 
to the head of the table.

		CAPONE
	Up here, Boss.

		LUCIANO
	That ain't exactly been the lucky 
	spot lately.

		CAPONE
	But from now on it's Lucky's spot.

The men applaud and call out in agreement as Charlie makes 
his way to the head of the table and settles in.

		LUCIANO
	Maybe you better hear what I got to 
	say first.

		CAPONE
	Whatever you say, Boss.

		LUCIANO
	No, Al. Whatever we say. We're all 
	Bosses here. We don' need another.

		JOE PROFACI
	Come on, Charlie. We gotta have a 
	top guy. Otherwise these wars ain't 
	never gonna stop.

		LUCIANO
	As long as ya got one top Boss, 
	somebody else's always gonna be 
	looking to knock him off. And that's 
	war on top of war.

		JOE PROFACI
	Who'll make the rules?

		LUCIANO
	We'll make 'em, and we'll enforce 
	'em. All of us. Together. We all get 
	one vote. Includin' me.

		JOE PROFACI
	Charlie, I'm from the old country, 
	and these American ways get me 
	sometimes confused. You tellin' us 
	you refuse the title of Boss of All 
	the Bosses?

		LUCIANO
	I don't care what anybody calls me, 
	Joe. Long as it ain't to dirty. And 
	if you fellas get together every 
	year and say, "Charlie, we still 
	want you to run things for us", I 
	ain't gonna insult ya by sayin' no.

Costello stands up at his chair.

		FRANK
	I propose we make Charlie Luciano 
	head of our National Commission for 
	the next year. All in favor?

Several hands shot up quickly, others respond more slowly, 
uncomfortable with this new-fangled democracy. Finally, only 
Profaci's hand remains down.

		LUCIANO
	You wanna be Boss, Joe?

Profaci lifts his hand up.

		JOE PROFACI
	Julius Caesar never took no vote.

		LUCIANO
	And maybe that's why he ended up 
	dead in the streets of Rome.

The men LAUGH and Profaci joins in.

							CUT TO:

INT: GRAND CONCOURSE HALL - NIGHT

With the same set of three hundred mobsters gathered together 
to hail a new leader for the second time in two weeks.

IN THE LOBBY OUTSIDE THE HALL

Charlie makes his way through a throng of well-wishers. Al 
Capone catches Charlie in a bear hug and slips a fat envelope 
into his hand. Charlie shakes his head and gives it back.

		LUCIANO
	Why should you be payin' me when 
	we're all equals?

		CAPONE
	You scare me, Charlie.

		LUCIANO
	Maybe that's why I'm the Boss.

INSIDE THE HALL

As Charlie makes his way up the center aisle with Lansky, 
Siegel, and Costello, accepting the cheers and handshakes of 
the crowd.

							CUT TO:

INT: CHARLIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Still dressed from the banquet, Charlie comes through the 
front door. He removes his coat, and tosses it across the 
sofa.

CHARLIE WALKS DOWN THE HALLWAY

rubbing the exhaustion from his face. At the bedroom door, 
he flips the light switch.

THE SCALLOP-SHELL LAMP

casts it's mournful glow across the empty bed. Charlie stares 
wistfully for a moment, then flips the light back off.

IN THE DIMLY LIT MARBLE BATH

Charlie lays back in the foamy bubbles in the tub. Lifting a 
cigar to his mouth, he strikes a match and lights it. He 
inhales deeply, holds the smoke for a moment, then expels it 
suddenly. He tosses the cigar into the toilet, where it 
sizzles and dies. He reaches over and flushes the toilet, 
then lays back into the bubbles, deep in thought.

				THE END
All movie scripts and screenplays on «Screenplays for You» site are intended for fair use only.