Original subtitles

(BELL TOLLING)

(FOOTSTEPS)

Come on. Hurry up.

(DOORBELL JINGLING)

Hello, operator? Get me the police.

(ENGINE STARTS)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

- Bet these are worth 20 grand. - Shut up.

OFFICER: Hold it.

Get up against the car. Spread them out.

Come on. Move.

Fucking wops.

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

(GRUNTING)

(GLASS SHATTERING)

Get up. Okay, get up. Come on.

Okay, you guinea son of a bitch, who were they?

I don't know.

Easy, Mike, easy.

Give the lad a chance.

You got trouble.

Big trouble. You know that, don't you?

- I didn't mean anything. - Look,

they're gonna put you away for 10 years. Easy.

Unless you open up.

Captain, I swear. I didn't know those two guys.

I figured it was a stickup going on, I wanted to help.

You see two uniformed policemen making a pinch

and you think it's a stickup?

It was dark in there. I couldn't see.

MAN: Mike!

All right, beat it.

- Just a goddamn minute, lieutenant... - That'll be enough of that.

- Come on, get out of here. - Sure thing, lieutenant.

It was only a mistake, that's all. Right, officer?

Do you want your goddamn head busted, you fucking wop?

Goddamn fink.

Move!

I got a call from Judge McQuade's bailiff.

Seems His Honor would appreciate us letting this guy go.

Not only didn't His Honor know why this guy was pulled in,

he didn't even know his goddamn name.

Now, how is that for a laugh, huh?

(VEHICLE APPROACHING)

Hop in, kid.

- Yeah, says who? - Says me.

Up yours.

Get in.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

- You have a name? - Alphonse Capone.

Everybody calls me Al.

Your father own a barbershop on Navy Street?

- Yeah, that's right. - I know him, Frank.

Gabriel Capone, nice man.

When you see him, you just tell him that Johnny Torrio sends his respects.

Oh, I sure will, Mr. Torrio.

- Who tipped you off on the fur heist? - Nobody.

Nobody tipped me off, Mr. Yale.

See, I got this girl. She lives on Myrtle Avenue

and I'm coming home. I see this squad pull in the alley, grab these two fellas.

I put my nose in, that's all.

- You know our boys were in there? - Well, I don't know your boys, Mr. Yale.

Least I don't think I know any of them.

Anyway, I tell you the truth,

it was so dark in there you couldn't see nobody's face at all.

You're gonna stand there and you're gonna tell me that you jumped two cops

with nothing in it for you?

Well...

Now that I think of it, if I'd thought about it at all, I wouldn't have done it.

I just don't like cops, that's all.

- Here. - Oh, no.

Please, Mr. Yale. It was a pleasure to do a man like you a favor.

An important man like you. My pleasure, I swear.

Yeah. You go out there, see Solly.

Tell him to drive you over to St. Vincent's. Fix up that face of yours.

Sure thing, Mr. Yale.

- Thank you. - TORRIO: Go ahead.

You too, Mr. Torrio. Pleasure to meet you.

Hey, how'd you make out, kid?

(GROANING)

- "J.M." Who's J.M.? - Judge McQuade, 20th District.

Frank, 2000 a month?

He keeps the fourth ward whorehouses open.

Fifty thousand dollars a month, clear. You do that good in Chicago?

A little bit here, a little bit there. It adds up.

Remember when we were kids?

We had rags on our backs.

Had cockroaches in the oatmeal.

Crabs on our balls from the stinky toilets.

(LAUGHING)

But one thing we did have, we had brains.

Even as kids we had brains.

These punks today, they have nothing. They got brains up their ass.

No, no. Not all of them, Frank. Young Capone.

You didn't believe that story he told you, did you? He called the cops.

Oh. Come on. Do you remember when we were kids?

How we got the big shots to notice us, huh?

- You bastard. - (LAUGHS)

Twenty thousand clear from that fur heist. I ought to have his neck broke.

If I were you, I'd put him on the payroll.

I gotta get going.

Johnny.

Give regards to Big Jim.

- Yeah. He's still buying diamonds. - Respect, huh?

Yeah.

I don't wanna argue with you, Johnny.

Sure, Prohibition comes in. So what?

There'll be a few wise guys bootlegging the stuff, but not Big Jim Colosimo.

I don't wanna tangle with no feds.

Federal badges or not, they all got their hands out.

You name the right price and I guarantee

they'll be on the take just like anybody else.

Look, I'm doing okay with my whorehouses and my gambling spots.

What's the matter, Johnny?

Ten grand a month don't satisfy you?

Not when there's a chance to rake in millions.

Now what the hell would I do with millions?

Buy more diamonds? Here. Diamonds.

Johnny, let me tell you something.

If Prohibition comes in, it ain't gonna last six months.

You take beer and booze away from the people,

they're gonna be sore as hell.

One thing the politicians can't afford is to have the voters mad at them.

So forget about this bootlegging. I want no part of it.

That's my last word.

Capisce?

WOMAN: (ON PHONE) Operator. Number, please?

Long distance, please.

- Operator. - Brooklyn, New York, operator.

Yeah, Mr. Frankie Yale.

- Prospect-1107. - Thank you.

My number is Wabash-6215.

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello. Hello, Frank.

Johnny. Yeah, yeah. Fine, fine. (CHUCKLES)

Well, how about you?

Huh.

Yeah, well, listen, Frank. Uh, the reason why I'm calling.

I'm in a situation out here. I gotta have somebody to give me a hand.

No, no, no. Somebody I can trust 100 percent.

Are you kidding? In this town?

I wouldn't even trust the pope if he came from Chicago.

I was thinking about, uh... You know, this Alphonse Capone.

He comes to my mind, and, uh...

(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)

(PEOPLE TALKING INDISTINCTLY IN ITALIAN)

(JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING)

(WHISPERING INDISTINCTLY)

Scusate.

-TORRIO: Hey, Alphonse. - Hey, Johnny.

What happened? I was beginning to worry.

Ah, I had to find a hotel.

Oh, I should have arranged all of that.

But never mind. We'll take care of that later.

Come on upstairs. I got some friends I want you to meet.

- Yeah. - What do you think of the joint?

Oh, it's a beauty.

It's all right. Come on.

So I said, "Mr. Mayor, you expect me to feed you"

"and half of city hall for nothing?

"Ain't it enough," I said, "that me and my friends

"stuffed the ballot box to get you elected at all?"

- (ALL LAUGHING) - Jim,

I want you to meet a friend of mine, Alphonse Capone.

- He just came in from the East Coast. - Did you?

- Honor to meet you, sir. - Alphonse is gonna be working for me.

This is my wife.

- (SPEAKS IN ITALIAN) - CAPONE: How do you do?

Mr. and Mrs. Jake Guzik.

- Pleasure to meet you. - MR. GUZIK: How do you do?

-TORRIO: Miss Crawford. - Hello.

And, um, her friend, uh, Mr. Cooper.

Pleasure to meet you.

I'm sorry. I just washed my hands.

Don't mind Mr. Cooper. He's widely known as a horse's ass.

(GIGGLES)

You stupid...

Take him for a walk. Cool him off.

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Big Jim Colosimo.

If he had listened to me a year ago, one year,

we'd have been cleaning up in this beer racket right now.

Or maybe you could split up on him, Mr. Torrio.

Start your own business.

Oh, no, it takes time. You don't understand.

I need strong connections in the mayor's office,

county building, the police department.

Even into Springfield.

And time is something that I don't have.

Alphonse,

you have the brains. Ambition.

You're not afraid of anything.

These are qualities that could make you a very important man.

But only if you put into my hands

your trust,

your loyalty,

and even your life.

All these are yours, padrone.

On the soul of my mother, I swear it.

Ah, Big Jim, Big Jim.

He's a fine man.

He's been very good to me.

I love him like the brother that I never had.

But he just won't listen.

He won't listen.

It must happen in such a way that he has no warning.

No fear.

No pain.

(SAXOPHONE PLAYING)

- Hey, Joe. Anybody looking for me? - Not that I seen, Mr. Colosimo.

JIM: Operator, I wanna call Wabash-7176.

Hello. Let me talk to Rookwood.

Hey, Rookwood, it's Jimmy.

I've been waiting around here for the last 15 minutes. Yeah. Where...

- (GUNSHOT) - (GRUNTS)

(COUGHING)

(PANTING)

(THUDS)

$250,000, Mr. Stenson.

As a down payment.

A down payment on exactly what, may I ask?

I was told that you own seven breweries, is that right?

Yes. Closed by the 18th Amendment.

- I wanna lease them from you. - You expect to manufacture near beer?

Near beer is second step to making real beer, Mr. Stenson.

Are you suggesting, Mr. Torrio,

that I actually become involved in bootlegging?

What are you worried about? Prohibition?

All you gotta do is show those feds a little Dough-Re-Mi.

I'll tell you how to handle it. Now, you lease your breweries

to a legitimate company in New Jersey.

That company, in turn, will sublet them to me.

And no matter what happens, you can't possibly be held accountable.

I take it you expect this to be a profitable venture.

Mr. Stenson, Chicago is a beer drinking town.

No law can change that.

Now, I can guarantee that your share of the profits

won't be under $1,000,000 a month.

You sure know your onions, Mr. Torrio.

A soon as you waved that dough under his nose, you had him by the balls.

Shut up. Shut up.

I broke my ass trying to put this deal together.

You almost killed the whole thing.

"What are you worried about, Mr. Stenson?"

"The feds are a bunch of dopes, Mr. Stenson."

Alphonse, what's the matter? Don't you use your head?

Come on. I'm gonna tell you something.

From now on, we're gonna be dealing with a lot of important people.

Judges, lawyers, businessmen, big politicians.

To get anywhere with them,

you're gonna have to learn how to... How to look like them,

walk like them, dress like them.

And most important of all, you're gonna have to learn how to talk like them.

Because the minute you open your mouth, like you did up there with Joe Stenson,

the minute they find out that you're a Union Street punk,

they're not gonna come within a mile of you.

Are you listening to what I'm telling you?

Sure, Mr. Torrio, sure.

Andiamo.

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

(ENGINE HUMMING)

Pete.

(GRUNTS)

(GROANING)

- Hello, boys. - (GUNSHOTS)

Frank, stay in the car.

- When Weiss gets here, send him inside. - Okay.

Pete, I want you in there with me. Come on.

There's our gold mine.

Twenty-eight miles long, 16 miles wide. Two million people.

And that's not even taking in the little towns around the edges.

Now, do you have any idea how much whiskey, how much beer

two million people can drink in a year?

In a week?

O'BANION: Or how many broads they can screw, hey, Johnny?

I hear that a good whorehouse wop,

like yourself, and the Genna boys, here,

have got a setup that brings in a lot of dough.

Is that right, Johnny?

(ALL LAUGHING)

It's a profitable business, Mr. O'Banion.

But peanuts to what I'm talking about.

So, what the hell are you talking about? Getting into bootlegging?

Every mob in town's involved in it already.

Deanie and myself, we got a flock of them North End joints.

And we're moving beer in there as fast as we can haul it.

Especially out-of-town beer, huh, Hymie?

You got something to say, just spit it right out.

O'Donnell here had 600 barrels that were coming in from Joliet

Monday night.

They never showed up.

- Isn't that right, Spike? - SPIKE: That's right.

- You saying we hijacked it? - You bet your fucking ass.

Alphonse.

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

You see, this is another reason why I called this sit-down.

We gotta stop this fighting. Quit this name-calling.

Before we start killing each other.

Now, look, we start off by cutting the town up into territories.

O'Banion territory.

Spike O'Donnell.

Little Italy, the Genna brothers.

The Loop, and the rest of the South Side is all mine.

You're taking one hell of a big bite, Johnny.

Yeah, that's right, Mr. Weiss. Protection costs.

I got the feds, Springfield,

the mayor's office, the judges, the police department.

I mean, it takes money. All of that's coming out of my pocket.

Look, if this is played right, we got a gold mine.

No more hijacking.

No muscling in on another man's territory, no more shootings.

We don't need trouble.

We can't afford trouble.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

- Yes. - (OPERA MUSIC PLAYING)

You better come outside, Al, before this dame, she gonna wreck the joint.

(YELLING IN ITALIAN)

IRIS: You're dead, fathead.

Stay away from me, you creep.

You drip.

Don't touch me, you spineless...

Take your claws off me, you pigeon-toed son of a bitch.

You make me sick.

- You can go to hell. - Oh, yeah, says you...

Now, you calm down and be a nice little girl, huh?

It's all right, folks. Go back to your dinners now.

(ENGINE HUMMING)

Are we going somewhere?

Or are you taking me for a ride?

I'm taking you home.

Oh.

I thought hoodlums left their victims in alleys.

Ah, come on. Knock it off, Miss Crawford.

You get drunk, you throw things at people. You do a lot of damage.

And I come very near to throwing your ass in the drunk tank.

- Why didn't you? - Rich dames got rich fathers.

Rich fathers got a way of returning favors.

(TIRES SCREECH)

Well,

thank you for the ride, Mr. Caponi.

Capone. Al Capone.

You spend all your time hitting people?

I take Sundays off.

No more beer from O'Donnell's guys, get me?

- From now on you take it from O'Banion. - Screw you, buddy.

I wouldn't peddle O'Banion's slop for free.

Joe, you gotta learn to listen to people.

(GROANS)

(GLASS SHATTERING)

MAN: Hold it, Pete.

(GUNSHOTS)

The hell with the others. Get O'Donnell.

(HORNS HONKING)

MAN: Looks like O'Donnell just wasted a good cigar.

Hello, Spike.

(GUNSHOTS)

(ENGINE REVS)

An Auburn? Come on, Jake. You have any idea what that'll cost us?

I know a judge don't come cheap, but an Auburn, for chrissakes.

I'm... I'm running around in a goddamn Ford, he wants an Auburn?

Yeah. Yeah.

All right, get him his fucking Auburn

but when we want a favor, he'd better come through.

You tell him I said so.

Hey, Johnny.

TORRIO: Alphonse.

I got a call from Jake Guzik this morning.

Says Cicero's all set for us to move in.

Yeah, we're taking over next week.

Setting up, uh, headquarters in the New Dawn Hotel.

Ah, it's beautiful, Johnny, beautiful.

Now, remember, these are small-town politicians.

- You gotta cooperate. Make compromises. - Ah.

Use bribes instead of bullets. We don't wanna ruin a good thing.

I'll handle city hall like it was made of glass.

That's what I wanna hear.

Hear about Spike O'Donnell?

Both barrels of a shotgun.

They're picking his brains out of the cigars in a store window on 63rd Street.

Yeah.

O'Banion's boys.

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

I talked with him. I told him, I pleaded with him to lay off.

I keep telling you, Johnny, you can't reason with these fucking Irish assholes.

All they understand is bullets right up the ass.

That's exactly the kind of talk that got us into all this trouble in the first place.

When are you gonna get it through that cement head of yours

that we are businessmen and not U.S. Marines? Huh?

Okay, okay.

With O'Donnell gone, maybe all of this will cool down.

(SIGHS)

I don't know what your beef is with the Genna brothers, Mr. O'Banion.

But whatever it is, I'm quite sure that you and I can reach

a, uh, satisfactory solution to the problem.

We made a deal, Torrio. A deal.

I help you take over Cicero.

Everything north of 12th Street, there, belongs to me.

No ifs, ands or buts.

- That's right, isn't it? - That's right.

Well, them dago pals of yours

been pushing that cat piss they call whiskey into my joints.

So I'm telling you, here and now, it's gotta stop.

And if you don't stop them, I, by God, will.

- I'll talk to them. - Do you hear that, lads?

He'll talk to them. Fuck talking to them. I'm telling you to tell them.

Tell them I catch one more grease ball son of a bitch

north of 12th Street, he'll end up in a pine box.

Chrissake, Johnny, how long you gonna take this?

- Al... - I want you to hear something, bigmouth.

If it wasn't for Johnny, you and your bums would still be knocking over poor boxes.

You don't make the rules. Johnny Torrio makes the rules.

He owns this fucking town.

That includes you.

Come on, lads.

You're dead, Capone.

(SPITS)

I'll crap on your grave, Polack.

That was a big mistake, Al.

(PHONE RINGING)

- Who the hell is this? - Pete. Get your ass out of bed.

- Oh, yeah, Deanie. - Hit the Genoas.

- You mean tonight? - I'll call Frank and Moran.

(PHONE RINGS)

O'Leary's.

Frank Gusenberg? You got a phone call.

WEISS: It's about time we hit those dagos.

- (PHONE RINGS) - Can anybody beat the big lady?

MAN 1: Beats me. MAN 2: Hey, Moran. Telephone.

(GUNSHOT)

(GUNSHOTS)

- (ENGINE STARTS) - (TIRES SCREECH)

(EXPLOSION)

- (WOMAN SCREAMING) - (BABY CRYING)

My condolences on the loss of your brother.

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

Johnny, I'd like you to meet a couple of boys here.

Frank Nitti, Jack McGurn.

My personal bodyguards.

You're gonna need a couple yourself, Johnny.

- Antonio. - I ask for this sit-down

at the request of the Genna brothers and their families.

In one black night,

they suffered the murder of a beloved brother,

the horror of a wife and child blown from their beds.

Had whiskey worth $30,000 taken from them by force.

All of this on the orders of your business partner, Dion O'Banion.

I spoke to O'Banion a couple of days ago.

He complained to me that the Genoas were muscling in on his joints.

It was an unfortunate mistake by men new to the territory.

When Angelo heard about it

he sent an emissary to O'Banion to settle the matter.

You wanna know what Mr. O'Banion said to Maxie?

He said, "Tell them Sicilianos to go to hell."

I say kill Mr. O'Banion.

Angelo,

you know, personally, I'd like nothing better than go to O'Banion's funeral.

You know what that would 'cause?

A shooting war.

- A lot of people aren't gonna like that. - What people, Johnny?

All those guys care about is booze, broads, couple of dollars to play the ponies.

If we let them get away with this, they'll think we've got shit for blood,

come down on us like a ton of coal.

Charlie.

Al makes a lot of sense, Johnny.

Jake. I don't know,

J.T. Maybe if we was to try to set up another meeting with O'Banion...

No. I'm telling you now.

Nobody's gonna talk to nobody.

You don't wanna kill this, uh, this puzzone,

me and my brother, we'll do this.

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Mr. Capone.

Ah, senator, what brings you up from Springfield?

I wanna personally thank J.T. for his very liberal campaign contribution.

We take care of our friends, senator. Where can Johnny reach you?

- I'll be at The Drake for a couple days. - Good.

Enjoy the evening.

- Take care of the senator. - CROUPIER: Sure thing, Mr. Capone.

Ah, Mr. Capone, this is Joe Pryor, deputy sheriff.

Sure took your sweet time getting here.

That desk is solid walnut. It set me back 300.

- So get your fucking feet off it. - Now, just a goddamn minute...

Now, you wanted the boss? I'm the boss.

Now what's on your mind?

Five grand.

You got three crap tables going full blast out there.

A couple roulette wheels, a row of slots, and you're selling booze at the bar.

Mr. Capone, you're breaking a lot of laws around here.

Yeah?

- So? - So how do you think them

society swells of yours are gonna like spending the night in the clink?

Five grand will give them a pass, huh?

It was gonna be three, but, uh, you got my uniform dirty.

- Sam, get Hoffman on the phone. - Oh, uh,

I forgot to tell you,

the sheriff's on vacation.

Oh, so you thought you might make a killing while he's out of town, huh?

(CLANKING)

Give you five grand? I wouldn't piss up your ass if you was on fire.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Pay the lady and I don't mean maybe.

And here they come again. Place your bets.

- Sixteen hundred bucks, goddamn it. - Get your...

MAN: Let's go double up and beat the bank. Your luck's mounting.

The little lady's coming out.

STICKMAN: What's your bet? Coming out.

Hey, gangster. Mr. Capone.

Come on over here.

Good evening, Miss Crawford. What can I do for you?

Blow on them. For luck.

STICKMAN: Coming out.

Winner, seven. Count the tips and pay the chips.

You're cashing in.

(SIGHS)

Mr. Capone, would you mind breaking this gentleman's nose again?

You want a bodyguard, hire one.

(GROANS)

All right. Nobody move.

(SCREAMING)

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

Freeze.

Get your hands behind your back, Capone. Come on, move.

(LAUGHS) I always wanted an excuse to clobber a cop.

You dumb broad. Come on. Come on.

Come on.

Now, get in there. Get in there.

- What? In here? - That's right. Get.

(GRUNTING)

Oh, please, don't get up.

We're just, uh, passing through.

Go ahead, back to work.

(WOMAN LAUGHING)

- Where are we, anyway? - CAPONE: We're in a whorehouse.

(CLANGING)

Well, well, well. Lookie what I found.

(ALL SCREAMING)

Get them out. Get them out.

Capone, do something.

(CHATTERING)

(PHONE RINGING)

- Bitch. - (KNOCK AT DOOR)

Come on in.

(DOORS CLOSING)

You can pick up the girl on the way out.

Uh, no hard feelings, Mr. Capone. It's just business, you understand.

Ah, sure, we all got a living to make.

Now, you take care of yourself and your family.

Men in your line of work are liable to run into some pretty tough customers.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello.

Yeah. Who wants to know?

Some dame named Crawford. Says you know her.

Okay, what is it?

Do I play what?

(CLAPPING)

-CAPONE: Brava. Brava. - Thank you.

Okay, your shot.

All right. It's very easy. You just keep your left arm straight. No, the left arm.

- Left arm straight. - Pivot the shoulders.

- Okay. I got it, I got it. - And keep your eye on the ball.

Hey.

Uh-ah!

Not bad.

It would seem people aren't the only thing you can hit.

Eh, I played a lot of stickball as a kid.

CAPONE: You know, this is good fun. IRIS: Give you a little class.

(BELL JINGLES)

Shit.

I gather one doesn't do much putting in stickball.

Oh, good evening, lad. You're here for the Mike Merlo flowers, of course.

That's right.

(GUNSHOTS)

(BELL JINGLES)

(DOOR CLOSES)

To the underworld's most promising golfer.

Hmm, 68, not bad, huh?

For nine holes? Excellent.

(CHUCKLES)

Iris. How nice to see you.

Mrs. Atkins, Miss Detwiller, Mr. Capone.

- How do you do, ladies? - Oh, why, of course.

Your picture's been in all the papers.

- You're the famous... - Gangster.

Well, since you said it.

I've never met anyone in your line of business before, Mr. Capone.

It must be terribly exciting. Forgive me, but, uh, (CLEARS THROAT)

do you actually carry a gun?

Oh, darling, that's called packing a rod.

Isn't that right, Mr. Capone?

Sure, I pack a rod all the time.

Here, let me show you.

- (GASPING) - (LAUGHING)

(VIOLIN PLAYING)

(SINGING IN ITALIAN)

(GUNSHOTS)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

MAN: Hey. Hey. Look out.

(SCREAMING)

(WOMEN SCREAMING)

Get out of here.

(EXPLOSION)

CAPONE: I gotta go back through the doors.

- Get a better edge on it. - Yeah.

MAN: Talking about humping your girlfriends, Charlie.

CHARLIE: Yeah, very funny. What are you, a comedian?

MAN: Your ladies are very funny. CHARLIE: Ain't got no class.

FRANK: Hold it, Al.

Get back.

What is it, Frank?

Jesus Christ.

What tipped you off?

When we left the car here last night, the mirror was straight.

Now, whoever left that bomb must've accidentally bumped into the mirror.

I owe you, Frank.

Well, let's take a walk, huh? Nice day.

(GUN COCKS)

Better than 500 slugs in one minute.

Now, that's something to think about, huh?

CAPONE: Hey, Johnny, glad to see you.

Where'd that come from?

I had Charlie pick up four of them yesterday.

I wanna talk to you, Al. Alone.

Sure, Johnny.

Can I get you something?

These killings, Alphonse. These senseless killings.

TORRIO: Nine in two weeks. It's gotta stop.

- Hey, try telling that to Hymie Weiss. - TORRIO: I intend to.

I want you to get in touch with Maxie Eisen.

Tell him to tell Weiss and Moran I wanna talk.

Put a stop to this crazy war.

After we got rid of O'Banion? Waste of breath.

- Waste of time, Johnny. - No, no, no.

(SIGHS) Not when they hear my offer, Alphonse.

Yeah, what's that?

I'm gonna give them the Loop north of Madison Street,

all of Rogers Park. Everything in Cicero north of 16th Street,

a cut in our slot machine take and half interest in the Lake County roadhouses.

(SHOUTING) What, are you nuts?

You give Weiss an edge like that, he'll own the town in six months.

Alphonse, these killings go on,

Weiss, Moran, all of us, we're finished.

Now, the word came down from city hall and Springfield.

We've gotta clean up this mess.

You and I busted our asses to build this business.

I mean, if we start giving parts of it away, we go downhill in no time.

Now, I say no.

(SHOUTING) Fuck city hall. Fuck Springfield.

With what we pay them bloodsuckers.

For chrissakes, if any one of us open our mouths,

half the politicians in Cook County would be on a rock pile.

Alphonse,

a business is only as good as the man who runs it.

Fortunately, I'm running this one.

Now, you get in touch with Maxie Eisen

and you give him my message.

Johnny, Johnny.

I, uh... I was just blowing off steam.

I'll handle it.

Me, you could always count on.

(RINGS)

(OPERA MUSIC PLAYING)

CAPONE: I got a job needs handling. A job we can't afford to have fucked up.

You play ball with me on this,

I'll give you a chance to be a big man in this business.

But for that I need your trust, your loyalty,

to your last breath.

I place my life in your hands, padrone.

On the soul of my mother, I swear this.

Johnny Torrio. Put him to sleep.

Can I say something, Mr. Capone?

Mr. Torrio, he's got a lot of friends.

They think you had him rubbed out, that wouldn't be so good.

But they wouldn't think it, not if Hymie Weiss' boys did the job.

One phone call, from a friend.

No names, just the address where Mr. Torrio is holed up.

1-1-0-7

Clyde Avenue.

Let's go.

(CAR DOOR SHUTS)

(GUNSHOT)

This one's for O'Banion.

You dago son of a bitch.

Hymie, come on, before the cops get here.

(GRUNTING)

(CAR DOOR SHUTS)

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

(TALKING INDISTINCTLY)

- What do you think, doc? - We can't tell yet.

But his rugged constitution is certainly in his favor.

Yeah, well, those sons of bitches can try again, doc. Right here in your hospital.

I'm putting a man in his room, two men in the hallway, around the clock.

There's no reason for that.

- The police will... - He could be dead by morning.

There are more crooked cops in this town than there are toilets.

Let's go.

(PHONE RINGS)

Yeah.

Well, that's great, doc.

- He's gonna make it. - That the way you want it?

- I don't know. I love the man. - He's got a yellow streak.

Yeah, that's right.

I couldn't stand around watching him louse up the business, huh?

Maybe you won't have to. He's gotta figure Weiss'll hit him again.

(SNORING)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Johnny.

Johnny, it's Al.

- Alphonse. - I'm here, Johnny. I'm listening.

(SOFTLY) O'Banion.

Where's Moran?

I begged them. I pleaded with them.

No violence.

I lost.

(GASPING)

I'm leaving...

I'm leaving Chicago.

Yeah, but what about the business, Johnny?

Who's gonna run the business?

It's all yours.

Take care of it.

I don't have a stomach for blood.

I'll get them, Johnny.

(SINGING IN ITALIAN)

(WOMAN GASPS)

I don't like it, Jake.

This year I want them figures up around 90 million.

We'll start by taking over the South Side policy wheels.

Oh, not that nickel-and-dime crap the niggers play around with out there.

Oh, yeah? Well, I've been doing some investigating, Charlie,

on the q.t.

And you know what that nickel-and-dime stuff is worth?

Two hundred thousand dollars a week.

Now, in a year that's, uh...

- What is that? Ten million. - Ten million.

Some fooling around, huh?

I don't know, Al. Those black boys are tough monkeys.

I don't think it's anything that Johnny would get involved in...

- (THUDS) - Will you shut up about Johnny.

I run this outfit.

Me. Al Capone. Now, you got that?

Yeah, sure, Al. (STUTTERING) I understand.

And another thing.

The unions in this town. There's a shithouse full of them,

loaded with money.

What we do is,

we replace the guys running those unions with some of our boys.

We start on both those things first thing in the morning.

All right, sing. Sing.

Who's next?

Joe Aiello. Runs the North Side Sicilians.

CAPONE: Personally, I don't give a shit who runs the Mafia in this town.

But all I heard about you, Mr. Aiello,

is you got a lot of muscle over on Division Street.

And that's on the North Side of town.

I gotta be straight with you.

I got no reason to be crazy about that end of town.

If you mean the Weiss outfit,

we do some business there.

Beyond that, nothing.

They don't talk nice about the Sicilian people.

I'll give it to you straight.

(WOMAN SINGING)

Tony...

Wants to run the Mafia in this town.

And I'm gonna give him my full support.

100%.

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

You're gonna have a problem with that ginzo, Al.

Ah, forget it. A bum like that gives the business a bad name.

- Who else you got out there? - You're not gonna believe this.

Frank Loesch.

Head of the Crime Commission?

There hasn't been an honest election in this town in years.

Ballot boxes stuffed, polling-place judges intimidated,

candidates assaulted.

Now, I want it stopped.

Particularly during this coming election.

Glad to be of service, sir.

Tell you what I'll do. I'll send the cops out in squad cars

the night before the election,

jug all the hoodlums. Keep them in jail until after the polls close.

- You got my word on it. - Thank you.

Now you know who owns this fucking town.

(HUMMING)

- You know the Pony Inn? - Yeah, Harry Madigan's joint.

Yeah, well, the Greek says there's five guys from the North Side headed there now.

He's sure one of them is Hymie Weiss.

Hey, hold it, Al.

What are you, some kind of fucking cowboy? There's five of them.

You might get yourself killed. Do you know what that would do to us?

To the whole business? Right down the toilet.

How do you like this guy?

Always looking out for the boss, huh?

Don't worry.

Nobody's gonna kill Al Capone.

Nobody.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(MEN LAUGHING)

That guy on the end. He's built like Weiss.

Well, Weiss or not, he's keeping the wrong kind of company.

Let's go.

(GUNSHOTS)

(GRUNTS)

MAN: (ON RADIO) We interrupt this program to bring you a special bulletin.

In a flare-up of gang warfare tonight,

three men were shot dead in a hail of machine gun and pistol fire

on a Cicero street.

The dead men tentatively identified as James Doherty, 29,

and Thomas "Red" Duffy, 28, who are allegedly aligned

with the infamous North Side mob

led by the notorious Earl "Little Hymie" Weiss.

The identity of the third victim has not yet been...

I've just been handed a special bulletin.

The third victim has now been positively identified

as assistant state's attorney William H. McSwiggen, 26,

often referred to as the "hanging prosecutor."

We now return you to the Hotel Sherman

for more music by Ben Bernie and all his lads.

Jesus Christ.

They'll nail my ass to the cross.

A witness will testify that he saw your client and three of his hoodlums

leave the Newthorne Hotel 20 minutes before McSwiggen was murdered

and that your client was carrying a machine gun.

This machine gun. Found half a block from the scene of the crime.

Sold to one Charles Fischetti,

known to be a member of your client's mob.

Mr. Bronson, your client is going before the grand jury.

And on the evidence this office will present,

he will be indicted, tried and executed.

Oh, cut the horseshit, Mr. Crowe.

I was paying Bill McSwiggen.

That's right. And I got what I paid for,

and that's enough to throw you and your whole fucking department out the window.

Now, you don't want me to tell that to the grand jury, do you?

First one today. With this hand.

I just made up a joke. Let's see that sexy Italian smile of yours.

If you ask me, there ought to be a law against women drinking.

Yes, well, I think there is.

I'm beginning to wonder if you sleep with them.

Who?

That pair of clowns you got back there, breathing down our neck.

We go to a restaurant, they're at the next table.

We go to a show, they're sitting right behind us.

We go for a ride, they're practically in the back seat.

Can't you go anywhere without them?

Not if I wanna stay healthy.

Pull over.

What for?

Just pull over.

You wanna drive, huh?

I'll wait for you.

Looks like the big fella's tired of driving.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Step on it.

- Come on, McGurn. - I'm going.

This broad's crazy. Where's she going?

Watch out.

Come on, McGurn.

(GIGGLING)

(HONKING)

Hey, now, you better slow down.

Relax. I'm a good driver.

You'll get us all killed.

No way.

Just hold on.

- Do you see them? - No.

- Where did they go? - What are you asking me for?

Well, you're looking, I'm driving. Where did they go?

In case you ever need a good getaway driver...

You could've got us both killed.

You...

It just so happens my brother's one of the best racecar drivers in the Midwest.

He taught me how to handle a car before I even started menstruating.

Bill and I come out here once in a while.

It's a wonderful spot for a little heavy necking.

Why do you say things like that?

Huh?

Having your period.

Letting some guy get into your pants.

If my sister ever talked like that, I'd cut her tongue out.

Well, well, well. Fancy that.

A morality lecture from a cheap bootlegger.

That's right, I'm a bootlegger. But I tell you one thing.

If I ever had a kid, she wouldn't go around with a dress up to her ass,

smoking cigarettes, lapping up bathtub gin

and running off at the mouth like a whorehouse toilet.

You wanna hear something funny, Capone?

What's that?

I got a call from this girl I went to college with.

Husband's an absolute bastard. Treats her like dirt.

He only married her for her money.

But they're both Catholic, so a divorce is out.

Anyway...

She calls me up,

said she heard you were a friend of mine and would I do her a favor?

Well, you'll never guess what favor.

She wants me to take the bum for a one-way ride.

All right.

What's his name? Where does he hang out?

You're not serious.

She's a friend of yours, you're a friend of mine,

friends do favors for friends.

Could I watch?

Mmm-mmm. (GIGGLING) No.

Well, where you going?

Come here. Come. Come here.

Where do you think you're going, huh?

(IRIS LAUGHING)

Oh, you're gonna tease, eh? You're gonna tease, eh?

You're gonna tease, eh? Huh?

Think you're gonna get away from me, huh?

(IRIS LAUGHING)

You'll tear it.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(GUNSHOTS)

I'll be a son of a bitch.

(SCREAMING)

(PEOPLE SCREAMING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

- Hymie Weiss, huh? - Who else?

Well, he just made his last mistake.

I told him he's worse than the damn dagos, trying to take over everything.

He can't even run his own candy store, for chrissakes.

At his direct order,

your two friends were brutally murdered.

Because his tirapiedi,

Antonio Lombardo, is head of the Unione Siciliano.

You and I,

we pay heavily for raw alcohol.

He has bombed my places,

murdered my brother,

shoots down my men in the streets.

So, why come to me?

We could join forces, work together to rid ourselves of this demente.

Nothing personal, Mr. Aiello,

but I don't trust none of you grease balls.

You're all alike. First you come on with the soft soap, big smile,

then you slip a shiv in a man's back.

As businessmen, we can ill afford the luxury of prejudice, Mr. Moran.

Separately, he can destroy us.

Work together and Alphonse Capone

is a dead man.

MAN: Tonight I'm going to eat it the way I wanna eat it.

(LAUGHTER)

McGURN: Charlie, what are you gonna do?

CHARLIE: I don't know. I thought maybe you can, uh, help me out.

FRANK: No one can help you out. CHARLIE: Oh, come on.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(SHOUTING IN ITALIAN)

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

Who for?

Giuseppe Aiello.

Aiello.

(EXPLOSION)

Five years.

Five years those scumbags been sticking it up my ass.

All I do is go to funerals.

My pal, Tony Lombardo.

I stood over his coffin and I cried.

I cried like a baby.

And Patsy Lolordo.

They shoot him down, right in his own house.

And me.

I'm having dinner with my friends. I'm enjoying myself and what happens?

I get a little present from Joe Aiello.

Poison!

What kind of way is that to kill a person?

All right.

All right, we put a stop to all this shit.

No more, "You knock off one of my guys, I knock off one of your guys."

We're gonna get them all. In one bunch. In one place!

Jesus Christ, Al, you're talking about five, maybe 10 men.

- Yeah, well, I'll send them flowers. - Don't do it, Al.

So help me God, it'll ruin us.

We'll have the fucking National Guard after us.

Jake makes a lot of sense, Al. I mean, we'd be out of business sure as hell.

McGURN: I'm with you all the way when it comes

to hitting those bastards, boss.

Only I have to say one, maybe two at a time.

What you're talking about here is a massacre.

Frank, what do you say?

I say we do it your way.

This business of wiping out the Moran mob,

- why did you go along with Al on it? - Oh, wake up, Jake.

What did you expect me to do? The man was a ticking bomb.

If one more of us had fucked him, he'd have gone up like a skyrocket.

Talk to him, will you, Frank?

You, he'll listen to. Will you talk to him?

He's changed, Jake.

He don't listen anymore to nobody.

He stuffs himself like a fucking pig, he takes crazy chances.

He'll put a hole in anybody who looks cockeyed at him.

Can't you at least talk to him?

No, Jake. Not one word.

CAPONE: Is that all you ever think about, Iris?

(GASPS)

Operator?

Superior-1094.

You know, when I was a kid on Navy Street,

I used to dream. Even when I was walking around.

I used to dream about all this.

Champagne,

beautiful blond,

silk sheets,

and now I got it all.

Ain't that amazing?

Do you ever feel guilty?

Guilty? What about?

About how you got all this?

Oh, you think that Rockefeller guy feels guilty?

Huh? (SCOFFS)

Have you ever loved anyone, Al?

Yeah. I love a lot of people.

My mother, my father.

- A lot of people. - Do you love me?

Sure.

You want me to love you? I love you.

Well, lucky for you. Because if you didn't, I'd have to have you knocked off.

(LAUGHING)

Come on, I made a 9:00 reservation.

Oh, I'm hungry.

As a matter of fact, I'm starved.

CAPONE: Oh, yeah? Come here, I'll feed you.

- Oh, no, you don't. - Oh, yes, I will.

- Come on. - Hey! Hey!

Now, be a good girl.

Be a good girl, huh?

(GIGGLING)

You're a good girl.

- Come here. Come here. - No. Come on.

- Come here. - I want you to take me out to dinner.

- And I want a French dinner. - You're gonna get a French dinner.

(LAUGHING)

(INAUDIBLE)

- Now. - (GUNSHOTS)

Come on, move it. Let's get out of here.

Iris?

Oh, my God.

I am heartily sorry

for having offended thee

and I detest

all my sins...

(SHOUTING) Get an ambulance.

Because I dread

the loss of heaven

and the pains of hell.

(SOBBING)

But most of all,

because they offend thee, my God.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

ETTELSON: Come in, gentlemen. CAPONE: Good evening, Your Honor.

- Drink, Mr. Capone? - Eh, not me.

With smart fellas like you, I'm gonna keep a clear head.

- Al, you're among friends. - Sam.

Mr. Capone, we're deeply concerned with the recent wave of gang killings,

culminating last week in the tragic death of the young Crawford woman.

We're aware that a certain amount of violence is concomitant

on your type of business.

Oh, for chrissakes, Sam.

You're not only putting Al to sleep, you're beginning to bore the shit out of me.

Just between us girls, Al...

I'm gonna be the next mayor of our fair town.

And we've got this world's fair coming up.

If we can clean up the town's reputation.

We want it stopped, Al.

The killings, the bombings and the senseless violence.

I'll tell you what you do, Tony.

You talk to the guys on the North Side, then you come to me.

Moran was up here last night.

And sitting right where you are.

And he's agreed to cooperate, in return for certain concessions.

Half the West Side suburb.

The Loop, north of Madison.

Ten percent of your gambling profits.

(LAUGHING)

Are you sure you ain't forgot something, Tony?

Like, maybe my fucking underwear?

Your income will still be enormous, Mr. Capone.

Yeah?

How long do you think it'll stay that way?

CERMAK: One minute, Al.

Without us, you're out of business. Completely.

Now, think it over.

I want you to think something over.

You're gonna keep on playing ball with me, you understand?

Because I got enough on every bastard in this room to put you behind bars.

Goodnight, gentlemen.

The hell of it is,

that guinea son of a bitch is right.

MAN: Try it over again.

- (DOG BARKING) - (MAN CHUCKLING)

Hey, what the hell is this?

OFFICER: Come on, get those hands up.

MAN 2: You lousy... Wait till Moran hears about this.

OFFICER: Turn around. Faces against the wall.

One phone call to the captain and you guys got your ass in a sling.

We'll cut you in if you forget the whole thing.

You got nothing on me, I'm just a mechanic.

(DOG BARKING)

(DOG WHIMPERING)

CERMAK: Are you serious?

Want to get rid of him? How?

Put him on the spot?

FRANK: It'd be easier to knock off President Hoover.

Al doesn't set foot out without six bodyguards.

- I'm talking about sending him up. - Prison?

With what he knows, he could take half the politicians in this state with him.

Suppose somebody outside the state nails him?

He's liable to shoot his mouth off just for the hell of it.

Not if all he thinks he's gonna get two, maybe three years

and come back and take up where he left off.

When the big fella goes up, who takes over?

I take over.

With you behind me, I can't miss.

Payoffs still go to the right people and the right man gets into office.

- I don't know. These killings... - Finished.

No bullets, no bombs, no bodies. That, I guarantee you.

You satisfy us on the way you get rid of Capone and you're in.

- Now, who gets him and how? - Uncle Sam gets him.

On income tax evasion.

How do you think it's gonna go in there, Al?

Waste of time, instead of the government trying to put me away

for running a business, they ought to be putting all that effort

into getting rid of the Reds and Bolsheviks

who are trying to take over our wonderful country.

Hey, Al, what's this I hear? Is Hollywood gonna make a movie about you?

They better not. I'll take them to court.

Terrible thing. Terrible thing, those gangster movies.

Our kids see come out of those movies, what do they wanna be?

A president, a priest, a doctor? No.

They wanna be some jerk with a gun who says, "Stick them up."

What will be your plea, Mr. Capone?

I don't know. That's up to my attorney.

But afterwards, I'm going back to my hotel,

take off my shoes

and put on some opera records.

Yeah.

To me, grand opera is the berries.

REPORTER: Mr. Capone?

The defendant will rise.

It is the judgment of this court that the defendant,

found guilty on three counts of federal tax evasion,

is to pay a fine of $50,000.

Plus an additional $30,000 in court costs.

(GAVEL POUNDS)

Furthermore, it is the judgment of this court that said defendant

shall be sentenced to a federal penitentiary

for a term not to exceed 11 years.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

WARDEN: Neurosyphilis?

Appears to be a long-standing condition,

presently at the tertiary stage of paresis.

- What's the prognosis? - Proper treatment,

which we can't give him here,

will delay its progress.

Eventually, it'll kill him.

But his mind will go first.

Hey, Al.

Hey, Al. You all right, Al?

Al, you all right?

(GRUNTS)

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

(GRUNTING)

(BELL RINGING)

Frank. Frank.

Charlie.

- I didn't expect you so soon. - Yeah.

Charlie, shake hands with Tony Amatto, Tony is my right-hand man.

S'abbenedica.

Tony, been hearing some great things about you.

- Come on in. Come on in. - Tony.

Charlie, Charlie. I'm real proud.

How's your health, Charlie?

Well, it's not bad. It's great living out here.

I put on a little weight, though.

Where is everybody?

Uh, they're in Miami for the day.

Al... Al's out at the pool, though.

How's he doing?

He's getting worse every day.

Listen, maybe you wanna wash up, have a drink?

Later, Charlie. First I wanna pay my respects to Al.

Al.

- FBI, eh? - FRANK: Al, it's Frank.

(CHUCKLING)

It's about time you guys showed up.

All the letters I been writing to Hoover, what do I get back?

A big horse laugh.

You tell Hoover all those banks being stuck up,

decent people being kidnapped,

it's the Bolsheviks, they're trying to take over the country.

You tell him that.

I'll tell him, Al.

Fucking politicians all got their hands out.

(SHOUTING) A guy tries to set up a little business, sell a little beer,

they call him public enemy number one.

Is that nice?

AMATTO: I sure would've liked to have known the big fella back in the old days.

Said he was one hell of a smart man.

Capone?

Smart?

Bullshit. He was stupid. He was an animal.

All he knew were guns, Tony.

That's what put him on top and that's how he figured to stay on top.

This guy, he was so fucking busy pumping bullets in the guy across the street

that he forgot something.

The same thing Johnny Torrio forgot.

That the guy, the guy you really gotta watch out for,

he isn't across the street at all.

He's the bum standing on the same ladder you are.

- Right behind you. - I'll sure remember that, Mr. Nitti.

FRANK: Do that.

It's kind of hot. Why don't you take your jacket off.

You're liable to catch a cold.

Thank you, Tony.

Ah, Johnny, you shouldn't have run out.

Business is worth millions. You should've stayed.

Helped me out.

Well... (SIGHS)

I'm getting my wind back, thank God.

And when I'm happy, I never feel snappy.

So put the money there, boys.

Put it right there. The treasury needs money.

Put it in.

Hymie, put it in.

I'm telling you for the last time. (SHOUTING) Put it in!

Now, you know what happened to O'Banion.

He never delivered the flowers.

(LAUGHING)

Jesus, Ma.

They put handcuffs on my legs.

What did they do that for?

Ah, I won't get it dirty, Ma.

Best communion suit on the block.

Shut up.

I said, shut up!

CAPONE: I'm gonna pay.

Just leave me alone.

Fucking Bolsheviks.

Fucking Bolsheviks!