[vehicle passing]
[train clanking]
[train rumbling on tracks]
[lock clicks]
[bell jingles]
LEONARD: To the naked eye,
a suit appears to consist of two parts:
a jacket and trousers.
But those two seemingly solid parts
are composed of four different fabrics.
Cotton, silk, mohair and wool.
And those four fabrics are cut into 38 separate pieces.
The process of sizing, forming, conjoining those pieces
requires no fewer than 228 steps.
♪
[teakettle whistling]
♪
So the first step is measurement.
♪
But "measurement" doesn'’t mean, uh, just reaching for your tape,
"So many inches here, so many inches there."
No, no, no.
♪
You cannot make something good
until you understand who you'’re making it for.
[bell jingles]
All clothing says something.
I'’ve had gentlemen walk into my shop and boast,
"Oh, I don'’t care about what I wear."
And assuming that'’s true, doesn'’t that say something, too?
♪
So, who is your customer?
And what are you trying to say about him?
A man walks through your door, what about him can you observe?
-[bell jingles] -Good morning.
LEONARD: Is he timid,
hunched over like a midday clock?
Or does he stand with confidence,
spine at six and twelve?
Is this a man of springtime pastel,
clamoring to be noticed?
Or is this a man of gray and brown,
blending into the hurried crowd?
Is this a man comfortable in his station?
[bell jingles]
Or does he pine for grander things?
And who would this man like to be?
And who is he underneath?
[jingles]
♪
Take your measure...
...and when you understand who he is...
[jingles]
Mr. Boyle.
LEONARD: ...then you'’re ready to begin.
Knock, knock.
-LEONARD: Hmm. -How'’s business, English?
LEONARD: Evening, sirs.
-Oh, wow. It'’s a nice one. -LEONARD: Mm-hmm.
RICHIE: Yeah, that'’s really nice.
You making that for my pops?
Not this one.
You'’re making those fine threads for somebody else? Who?
Master Richie, you know I can'’t talk about my gentlemen.
Huh. Is that what we are? Your gentlemen.
Whoa, get a load of English.
Keeping his lips shut tight.
-Your father was here. -Oh, yeah?
Uh... yesterday.
He said your business
is undergoing some manner of expansion.
He said I should plan on making you a new suit to celebrate.
Francis, what do you think? New threads? Long as we'’re here?
-Not tonight. -Hey, come on. We got time.
Not tonight.
Oh, shit.
Is that from the Outfit?
English, do me a favor.
Why don'’t you, uh, go up front,
check on your secretary for me, all right?
Will you excuse me, gentlemen.
RICHIE: It'’s the Outfit, man.
It'’s his brass ring right here.
Right, go ahead, open it up. See what it says.
♪
Any mail?
Do you want to talk about it?
The mail?
That they gave you the boot.
What'’s in the box?
That one'’s mine.
Let'’s have a look.
[laughs softly] Okay.
No, no, let me guess.
Uh, the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
MABLE: Mm-mm.
I'’ve never understood the appeal.
All it does is lean.
The Eiffel Tower?
I already have that.
Well, then I give up.
What is that?
I'’ll show you.
LEONARD: Ah-ha.
I feel at home again.
MABLE: Isn'’t it beautiful?
It'’s a clock.
Unlike some of us, I'’ve never seen it in person.
In person, it'’s still a clock.
On the banks of the Thames.
-You'’ve seen clocks in Chicago? -Yes, of course, but...
They look startlingly similar in London.
[laughs]: Okay.
I will never understand you.
LEONARD: Well, you will never be a-a dashing gentleman
of a certain age.
MABLE: You'’ve been all over the world.
You could have a shop anywhere you like.
And yet you'’re here.
What'’s wrong with here?
I can think of a few things.
Some things one finds everywhere, dear.
So it doesn'’t terribly much matter where I am.
I have me shears.
What else does a man need besides his shears?
And I have you.
Not forever.
Ah, yes.
Ben awaits.
One way or another...
...I'’m getting out of here.
To London?
To London.
And Madrid. [laughs]
-And Barcelona. -Mm.
-And Morocco. -[chuckles]
And to Paris.
[both laugh]
You know what'’d make it happen a lot sooner?
-A map? -A raise. Please.
I best go see if Master Richie needs me.
-[door sliding open] -Ah.
Speak of the devils.
What'’s that now?
Just an expression, sirs.
-[jingling] -Excuse me.
I meant no offense.
See you tomorrow.
-[bell jingles] -[door closes]
-[dog barking in distance] -[church bells chiming]
♪
The horologist'’s apprentice popped in yesterday.
He'’s awfully nice.
S... What'’d he... uh, who-who?
From down the street.
He'’s ever so handsome.
Are you... trying to get me to go on a date
with the guy who works at the watch shop?
He'’s an apprentice to the horologist.
The one with the little mustache?
Yes, like Errol Flynn.
I do not need you telling me who to date.
I didn'’t mean it like that.
You meant it like, "I saw you smiling at Richie Boyle earlier
"and now I'’m petrified
that you'’re running with a bad batch."
Those men may be customers, but they are not gentlemen.
Could'’ve fooled me in those nice clothes you make for '’em.
If we only allowed angels to be customers,
soon we'’d have no customers at all.
Do we let all of our customers keep lockboxes in back?
It was you who was smiling at him.
I'’ve spent my entire life
around animals like Richie Boyle.
You want to get him to back off, you look him dead in the eyes
and you pretend you'’re one of 'em.
You don'’t need me worrying after you.
-That'’s right. -You can take care of yourself.
You'’re not my...
-You know. -I do.
My father was a shit, so y-y-y...
Take that as a compliment.
I will.
♪
I know...
that you hope that I'’ll start loving this
-the way that you do. -No. I don'’t.
-I don'’t. -That I'’ll train...
learn the craft.
One day maybe even take over the shop.
But I don'’t want that. I don'’t want your life.
You'’re entitled to your own.
-I am. -You'’re a smart young woman
who'’s going to take herself
-far away from here. -I will.
And when I go, I just don'’t want you to be all alone.
[chuckles softly]
I don'’t need you looking after me either.
After all, you'’re not my, you know.
-Fair enough. -[chuckles softly]
Now, if you want that raise,
first you have to learn what a bloody square looks like.
[bell jingles]
♪
[steam hissing]
♪
[vehicle passing]
[flames crackling]
[breathing quickens]
[crackling grows louder]
-[crackling stops] -[door opens, bell jingles]
MABLE [singsongy]: We gotta find the keys.
-[Richie speaks indistinctly] -[door closes]
-MABLE: Uh... -[Richie humming]
MABLE: They were right here.
And... what did I do with them?
♪ Well, that'’s what they say ♪
[continues singing indistinctly]
Hey. What'’s this book do, by the way?
I always wondered what this was.
Richie. [chuckles]
[laughing]: Don'’t touch anything.
Hey.
Mm.
-I just said don'’t touch anything. -These are gorgeous.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
MABLE: He likes things the way that he likes them.
RICHIE: Okay.
What a fucking buster, huh?
MABLE: He cares about what he does,
and that'’s why he'’s the best at it.
RICHIE: Yeah.
Like... somebody else I know.
-Hmm. -[Mable chuckles]
What is that? Are you fucking with me?
What?
I said, are you fucking with me?
-Like, are you making fun? Huh? -No.
-No, Richie, baby. -'’Cause I'm no goddamn joke.
I'’m not making fun. I'’m not making fun.
Come here.
Baby, what'’s wrong?
[sniffs]
-Did he do something? -Did who do something?
Francis. Did he do something again?
RICHIE [scoffs]: Fuck Francis.
-He ain'’t family. -I know.
RICHIE: Hmm.
-He ain'’t even Irish. -I know.
[scoffs]
-He thinks we got a rat. -[lighter clicks]
-Okay. -Yeah.
Somebody leaking to the La Fontaines.
Who?
Doesn'’t fucking matter.
-He'’s paranoid. All right? -All right.
And he'’s been telling my pops for months.
My pops fucking listens, too.
"Hey, Francis, you know, he'’s so smart.
You can really learn a thing or two from that kid."
[whispers]: Baby, you'’re the number two.
Your pops listens to you. Don'’t worry about Francis.
Who cares about Francis?
You think I don'’t know what Francis did for my pops? Hmm?
You think I haven'’t heard about it
a thousand fucking times?
Six marbles. I fucking get it.
But that'’s only 'cause I wasn'’t there.
'’Cause if I had been there,
-that would'’ve been me. -Would'’ve been you.
You know that, right?
Francis thinks he can make moves with my pops,
my fucking pops,
-without me. -[clatters]
Fuck was that?
I don'’t...
♪
-[laughs quietly] -[snorts]
[whispering]: Shut up.
Okay. Sorry.
Geez.
-[chuckles softly] -I don'’t want to wake him up.
-Hey. -[keys jingle]
-Looking for these? -That'’s where...
You know what I like about you?
What?
You'’re going places.
Goddamn right I'’m going places.
Mm.
-Whoa. -Out that door.
-Whoa, whoa. -[Mable laughs]
[departing footsteps]
[door opens, bell jingles]
[door closes]
♪
LEONARD: Step two is drawing.
And for some, this can be the most purely enjoyable step.
[bell jingles]
[sighs heavily]
You'’re only just exploring.
♪
-[tablet fizzing] -[groans quietly]
[exhales slowly]
But I will caution you to heed your patterns.
They'’re there for a reason.
This isn'’t art.
This is a craft.
We can talk about shocking originality later.
The point now...
...is skill.
[keys jingle]
[lock clicking]
♪
Your patterns, your proven forms,
they aren'’t your enemies.
They'’re the only friends you have.
♪
[doorbell rings]
[doorbell ringing]
[urgent knocking]
[doorbell rings]
-FRANCIS: Shh! -[bell jingles]
[Richie grunts]
-RICHIE: Motherfuckers! -Quiet.
-Fucking dead! -Quiet. -[sirens approaching]
Yeah, back up, back up.
[sirens passing]
[sirens continue in distance]
[panting]
-What'’s going on? -Is anybody else here?
Please, sirs, I don'’t want any trouble.
-[grunts] -Is anybody else here?
No, no, no, sir.
All right, back room.
Move, move, move. Come on.
-[pained grunting] -Let'’s go.
-We got ya. Don'’t worry. -[Richie grunts]
[sirens continue in distance]
Come on, English.
-All right. -[grunts]
-All right. -Shit, shit.
-All right, get the coat, get the coat. Come on. -Shit.
[Richie grunts]
Fuck!
[softly]: Shit.
Come on, help me lift him.
Come on.
-[groans] -All right.
[strained]: Fuck.
FRANCIS: Fuck.
Fuck. Shit.
Fuck. [yells]
-Fuck. -Grab some of that fabric,
hold it, hold it up here against the wound.
Ah! Fuck! Fucking hurts!
It hurts because there'’s a hole in your stomach.
Do you remember why there'’s a hole in your stomach?
There'’s a hole in your stomach because back there,
when it was time for you to pull the trigger, you froze.
-Fuck you. -Yeah, fuck me later.
Right now, shut up.
English, I need you to listen carefully.
There are a thousand blue boys out there
hunting for this, and if they find it, I start shooting.
You follow? Making matters worse,
there are a thousand racket boys out there
hunting for it, too, and if they find it,
they start shooting. You follow?
-I think he fucking gets it. -Shut up.
Let me hear it.
Uh, there'’s, there's a thousand people
looking for that briefcase.
It would be safest all around if none of '’em get it.
Good man.
Keep the pressure on.
Fuck.
Are you calling my pops?
Hey, prick!
You fucking prick. Fuck.
[pained grunting]
Boss, the La Fontaines jumped us.
The whole crew was waiting.
-They knew when we were gonna be there... -[groans]
-Fuck. -...they knew what we had with us,
they knew where we were.
What have I been saying about a rat?
I told you.
Yeah, yeah. No, no, we still have it.
Uh, no, Richie and I ran to the safest place nearby.
Tailor'’s shop.
And, uh, yeah, Richie took a marble.
Yeah, well, he, he'’s not gonna be playing for the Cubs
anytime soon, but he-he'’ll, he'll be okay.
I... He'’ll be okay.
You want to send the doc anyway?
Well, w-we, we can come.
Now?
All of La Fontaine'’s spots? That'’s war.
Then I guess it'’s D-Day.
[hangs up receiver]
-Fuck he say? -Listen to me, pal.
Nobody knows where the doc is.
Pops is gonna come down here himself,
but it'’s gonna take a while.
What the f... fuck is a while?
-Take me home. -Pops says wait here.
When you got marbles in your belly, you can stay, all right?
-I'’m leaving. -Hey, hey.
I'’ve had marbles in my belly, remember?
Six shots. Fuck you!
You work for me, and I'’m saying
take me the fuck home!
I work for your father,
and your father says we stay put.
Motherfuck... [cries out]
Fuck!
He needs a doctor.
-Oh, you think? -[sirens approaching]
[Richie groaning loudly]
-Fuck! [muffled shout] -POLICEMAN: Down here.
-POLICEMAN: Move, move! -Shh!
-[muffled grunting] -[sirens passing]
[sirens fading in distance]
-[Richie breathing rapidly] -[shushes softly]
You fucking prick.
-He'’s losing too much blood. -Push harder.
The wound needs to be sealed.
Oh, are you a doctor now, too?
-I was in the war. -At your age?
The other war.
[shallow breathing]
Let me see.
[Richie grunting]
Yeah, the marble went through.
I'’ve been in a war, too, just not the overseas kind.
-[Richie grunts, groans] -Yeah.
We have to stop this bleeding. He needs a hospital.
Sew him up.
What?
You got a needle and thread around here someplace.
-Not that kind. -Sew him up.
I can'’t. I don't know how.
Sewing skin is not the same...
Sew him up.
[coughing weakly]
♪
If he'’s bleeding internally...
[coughing weakly]
[Richie groaning]
[Richie coughing]
[groans loudly] Fuck.
[coughing]
[Richie grunting]
FRANCIS: Shh.
RICHIE [whispers]: Fuck.
[groaning] Fuck.
What... the fuck is he doing?
He'’s fixing you up. Stay still.
No fucking way, he isn'’t.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
I think we should, uh, we-we can, um...
FRANCIS: Go on, do it quick.
...come up with a different plan, yeah?
FRANCIS: Shh.
Actually, I think I'’m good.
-[yells] -Hold him.
-Nuh-uh. -Fuck.
If I run away, you can run after me,
catch me and murder me then.
-Keep your hands steady. -Get the fuck...
fuck away from me, both of you.
Right, come on.
[grunting]
LEONARD: Pull him this way.
[grunting]
[groans]
Ow! Fuck!
[groans]
One more.
[grunts] Fuck!
Fuck! [grunts]
Get my, get my tweezers.
[Richie gasping]
[breathing softly]
Scissors.
Cut that.
[Richie grunts softly]
All right.
Turn him over.
Careful, careful.
♪
[muffled]: Good boy.
Scissors.
[Francis sighs]
He'’ll be okay.
♪
[scissors snipping]
[water gurgling]
♪
Stay here with Richie, wait for the boss.
You'’re leaving?
I'’ll be back.
Take Master Richie with you.
This is the safest place right now.
Please, at least take that-that thing with you.
Too many hard boys out there.
You-You'’ve been loyal customers.
I depend upon you.
Not once, not once have I ever asked about your business.
I don'’t, I don't judge.
I just don'’t want to be involved in whatever it is you do.
English, you know exactly what it is that we do.
No, sir, I-I actually don'’t know anything.
I don'’t know what that is.
I don'’t know why all these gentlemen are looking for it.
And if they come here, I won'’t be able
to placate their suspicions.
I'’m useless to you. I'’m a liability.
I... I only just want to be left alone.
But you'’re not alone, English.
Like it or not, now you'’re part of the family.
This is a tape from a bug.
Oh, please, stop.
Some new gizmo the Feds came up with.
Records sound, like a Victrola.
But you can hide it, '’cause it'’s only the size of a...
Oh, you get it.
The Hoover boys planted their bug in one of our spots.
But what they don'’t know
is that we have friends in high places.
Friends who could do things like smuggle us a copy of the tape.
But before I could listen to it,
La Fontaine'’s crew rolls up on us.
See, we'’re making moves on them, and if they get the tape,
then they'’ll know how to hit back.
Everybody wants this thing.
So throw it away.
Somebody'’s been ratting us out to La Fontaine.
Now, somebody...
helped the Feds get a bug on us.
If we can listen to this thing,
then we'’ll know where it was planted. Boom.
If I can find a machine to play this tape tonight,
the rat don'’t wake up tomorrow.
Your friend, Mr. Boyle, will be here in three hours.
Nobody but me or the big man touches this.
-What if the police come? -Get rid of '’em.
What if these other gentlemen come?
Get rid of '’em!
'’Cause if I get back
and that tape isn'’t sitting right there...
Welcome to the family.
♪
[door closes]
[door opens, bell jingles]
[door closes]
♪
-[Richie coughing] -[door sliding open]
[sighs]
[sighs, grunts]
Master Richie.
How are you feeling?
Fuck you. How you think I'’m feeling?
Unwell.
[Richie scoffs]
Listen, uh...
English, I want to thank you.
You saved my life, so...
I don'’t know that I did, sir.
No, no, no.
Came to you in a bad moment.
You were a stand-up guy.
Water?
Sure.
Yeah.
[exhales painfully]
[sighs] Where'’s Francis?
He, he said he had to find a way
-to play your tape. -[water running]
What do you mean, he left?
Uh, something about how playing the tape would tell him, uh,
who the rat is.
That'’s what you call it, isn'’t it?
-A rat? -Hmm.
Francis told you that?
Mm.
He'’s just not usually the type to get blabby.
Well, it sounds like it'’s been a long night.
-For us all. -Yeah.
S-Slowly with that.
I got it.
Who would do such a thing to your family?
After everything your father'’s done for this neighborhood.
My pops is this fucking neighborhood.
Indeed.
When I first came to Chicago,
all I had to me name was a set of shears.
Your father, did you know he was my very first customer?
Very first.
Yeah, I remember that.
-Do you? -Yeah.
Pops was excited.
He, uh... [chuckles softly]
came home one day saying, you know,
"There'’s a new tailor in town."
-Did he? -Yeah, "Right from England."
[both chuckle]
It was a very warm welcome, I tell you.
Yeah.
Much appreciated. [clears throat]
Pops loves all that fancy stuff, you know.
-He does. He'’s got good taste. -Mm-hmm.
You know that he... he taught me how to tie a tie
for the first time when I was four.
-No. -Mm-hmm.
Four?
What was he always saying? Uh...
"A well-tied tie is the, uh,
first serious step in life, kid."
Some shit like that.
-Wilde. -Mm, fucking crazy, right?
No, that'’s a quote.
Oscar Wilde.
Yeah, I don'’t know him. [sniffs]
But see, that'’s probably why my pops likes you, though.
You know, he'’s into all that quoting fancy people shit.
[chuckles softly]
So, who do you think it is?
Who do I think is who?
This Judas who'’s betrayed your family.
I don'’t know.
I'’ll wager a clever young man like yourself
must have some suspicions.
Someone close to the family, perhaps, but, but not family.
I have something I need to tell you, Master Richie.
Okay.
I feel terrible.
♪
I-I never imagined
things would get so out of control.
That anyone would be harmed, much less yourself,
or... or, God forbid, your father.
But...
The fuck are you talking about, English?
I... I have to tell...
I have to tell you...
Spit it out.
I'’m the rat.
I'’ve been selling information to your enemies.
And I let the Federal Bureau of Investigation
plant their bug... here.
♪
[laughing]
Holy shit, you had me.
You fucking had me.
[both laughing]
I almost fucking shot you.
[laughing]: I felt it.
I made you laugh.
It'’s a hell of a thing to joke about. [laughing]
Well, it'’s the best medicine, you know.
It is.
Can you imagine, huh?
You... the rat?
[laughing]
Wait a minute.
What do you mean by that?
[inhales sharply]
What do you mean, what do I mean?
You couldn'’t be the rat.
I absolutely could be the rat.
-Not a chance. -Why not?
Why? '’Cause look at you.
What about me?
[laughs]
Nah, uh-uh.
You'’re just a fucking tailor.
[sniffs] I'’m not a tailor.
I'’m a cutter.
-Sorry. -A tailor sews on buttons
and hems trousers.
Anyone with a needle and thread and 15 minutes can be a tailor.
I studied for decades to be a cutter.
I used to cut on the Row.
-Fuck is "the Row"? -Savile Row.
Where'’s that, North Addison?
It'’s in London.
A quarter of a mile in which
the greatest craftsmen in the world
all ply their trade.
I apprenticed there for years before they allowed me...
...to open my own shop.
-Why'’d you come here, then? -The war.
What, Krauts bomb your place?
Worse. They'’re called blue jeans.
[stifled laugh]
-[coughs] -After the war,
things were quite poor in England.
Not a lot of men could afford well-made things,
so these blue jeans became all the rage.
Well, times change, pal.
Blue jeans are the fashion now.
This James Dean of yours makes one picture
and blue jeans are the fashion.
Soon he'’ll make another,
something else will become popular.
These fashionable things, they don'’t last.
The things I make,
-like that suit of yours... -Mm.
...it'’s timeless.
So you thought that a bunch of fancy-pants in England
couldn'’t appreciate the finer things,
so you came to Chicago?
Wow. You must fucking love Red Hots.
I came to a place that isn'’t weighed down...
...with bitter history.
And, yes,
-Red Hots are delicious. -[chuckles]
[laughs]
♪
I do hope your cousin'’s all right.
My cousin?
[doorbell ringing]
[bell jingles]
-How is he? -Awake.
LEONARD: But...
Francis ain'’t my goddamn cousin.
He'’s not?
FRANCIS: But what?
What'’s the matter with him?
Come on, spit it out.
My pops can see the mangiest mutt on the street,
and if he'’s got teeth sharp enough,
he'’ll be eating with us at the dinner table.
He'’s lost a lot of blood.
He'’s probably light in the head.
[sighs]
♪
Where did Francis say he was going exactly?
Oh, no, you can'’t think he has anything to do with this.
It'’s not my place to speak ill of Master Richie,
but he keeps going on about this rat you mentioned.
What about the rat?
He said before, he was the one looking for the rat.
Why would he place himself in charge of looking for the rat
if he was the rat himself?
So he told you all that,
but he didn'’t tell you where he was going?
"I know who the rat is," he says.
"Francis thinks he can pull one over on me."
-Who, me? -Well.
He keeps fiddling with your briefcase.
-What did he do to the case? -Nothing.
He left the case in there.
If I was the rat...
...and try as I might, I can'’t seem to convince you
that I am...
[chuckles]
...well, I'’d want to burn that thing straightaway.
So, you see, you'’ve nothing to fear from your friend Francis.
He'’s family.
Well, almost.
[doorbell rings]
I haven'’t left him.
Till now.
[doorbell ringing]
[quietly]: English, get the door.
♪
[doorbell ringing]
FRANCIS: Richie.
How you feeling?
Oh, I'’m just peachy, yeah.
How you feeling?
I didn'’t get shot in the stomach earlier,
so, you know, not bad.
Lucky, isn'’t it?
All those bullets flying around, but the La Fontaines,
they didn'’t land a single one on you, hmm?
Not luck, Richie. It'’s, um...
...it'’s skill.
I guess I was too slow.
So where you been?
Made some calls.
I checked in with a hi-fi shop, owes us a favor.
They got a machine that can play the tape.
I'’m, I'm gonna go over with it this minute.
So you want to take the tape?
Yeah. Pronto.
-Why don'’t I go with you. -No, no.
You'’re in no shape to be out there.
So you want to walk out of here with this tape alone?
-Is that right? -That'’s right.
[sucks lip]
I'’ll tell you what.
Just wait for my pops to get here, you know?
Then we can all listen to the tape together.
We don'’t have time.
-What'’s the big rush? -Every second the rat is alive
is another second that your father is in danger.
LEONARD: Gentlemen.
[clears throat]
If I know your father, Master Richie,
your father would want you both to take a deep breath.
Now... glad you said that.
Hmm?
My father.
My father, Francis.
It'’s my father who'’s in danger, not yours.
I love your father like he was my own
and I'’m trying to help him.
See, wasn'’t your father
selling fucking tomatoes down on State Street
before he died from a lifetime of being nothing to nobody?
Huh?
So maybe me and my pops don'’t need your fucking help.
You ever think of that?
I'’m gonna need that tape, pal, right now.
[Richie grunts]
Why don'’t you try and take it?
Not tonight. Now give me the tape.
Really, Francis, I mean, what'’s the, uh,
what'’s the rush?
I mean, really, my pops will be here any minute.
Unless you don'’t want my pops listening to this tape.
[scoffs] What are you talking about?
Huh?
Why don'’t you want my pops listening to this tape, Francis?
I said, give me the fucking tape.
Ooh.
Now who'’s too fucking slow?
-Richie. -Mm?
Richie, for your own good, for the good of your father,
I'’m gonna take that tape now and I'’m gonna leave.
If you touch me again...
...I'’ll break your fucking arm, you understand?
[laughing]
You'’re such a fucking prick, you know that?
Think you'’re so fucking smart.
-LEONARD: Careful. -Hmm?
-Smarter than everyone. -Careful, Master Richie.
-Careful. -Eh?
-You fucking... -[grunting]
♪
Where'’s the tape, Francis?
You must be out of your mind to point that gun at me.
Gentlemen.
Stop playing games, Richie. Where'’d you put the tape?
-What was your plan? -Did you hide it to try
and trick me into confessing something?
'’Cause that is somehow
the dumbest thing you'’ve done all day.
RICHIE: Mm. Always wanted to be the big man, didn'’t you?
No selling tomatoes for you. No, no, no.
You don'’t want to work for my pops.
You want to fucking be him.
I owe everything to that man.
Well, guess what.
As long as me and him are around,
you ain'’t never gonna be number one.
There'’s no need for this fighting.
You slimy fuck, I had you pegged from day one.
You know that?
From the second I first laid eyes on you, I said,
"Who the fuck is this son of a bitch?"
He ain'’t family.
No, I'’m the guy who took six marbles
to save your father'’s life because family wasn'’t there.
Yeah, fuck you!
-I run this crew. -No, your pops runs this crew.
And I spend half of every day cleaning up your messes.
[gun cocks]
You want to see me make a mess?
[scoffs softly]
[clank]
[gun drops to floor]
[choking]
[choking continues]
Damn it, Richie. Why'’d you make me do that?
[choking continues]
These are the last words you'’re gonna hear,
so I hope you remember them in hell.
You didn'’t die because you'’re dumb,
because you'’re arrogant or because you'’re slow.
It was because you'’re weak.
[gunshot echoes]
♪
You killed him.
You really pay attention, don'’t you?
-Where did Richie put the tape? -I'’ve no idea.
Maybe you could explain what happened.
FRANCIS: To God Almighty?
LEONARD: No, to Mr. Boyle.
FRANCIS: There'’s a difference?
He had to hide it in here somewhere.
You brought a man in here injured.
Perhaps he didn'’t survive his wounds.
FRANCIS: He'’s missing half his goddamned head.
On the phone, I told his father he'’d be fine.
LEONARD: When a mistake has been made...
...I'’ve always found it best to simply be up-front about it.
English, I didn'’t cut the boss'’s pants too short.
I shot his son in the face.
[vehicle approaching]
-Shit. -[dog barking in distance]
That'’s the man's Caddy.
-Let'’s explain... -Open the trunk.
-What? -Open the trunk and-and grab his arms.
-What you gonna do with him? -[vehicle doors closing]
Grab his goddamned arms or else I'’m hiding two bodies.
-[doorbell ringing] -[grunting]
Go. Get the door.
Take your sweet time bringing him back here.
I need to clean this up.
[doorbell ringing]
I don'’t know anything about lying.
Subterfuge.
You don'’t know how to say one thing
when you mean something else?
I thought you were English.
-[doorbell ringing] -[door sliding open]
[sighs]
[doorbell ringing]
-[bell jingles] -[wind whistling]
Well, aren'’t you a sight for sore eyes.
-You'’re in one piece? -Mm.
-[door creaks] -[bell jingles]
I'’m not gonna forget what you'’re doing for my crew,
my family, tonight.
I'’m at your service, sir.
[chuckles softly]
Where are the boys?
Are we quite all in one piece, sir?
Oh, it'’s not mine.
We had to make a few stops on the way.
Where are the boys?
Boss.
You all right?
You must have made it through some hell.
Hey, nothing I haven'’t seen before.
ROY: First you save my life and then you save my son'’s.
One of these days, I'’ll have to find a way to repay you.
Hey, y-you been to see La Fontaine?
Got a few hard boys still out there
leaving calling cards.
Ah, the numbers game at the Green Dragon?
There ain'’t no more numbers game at the Green Dragon.
Now it'’s a nice warm bonfire.
Couple of Chicago'’s bravest
running around with squirt pistols.
-Glad you'’re keeping them busy. -Where'’s Richie?
Oh, I... I thought he was with you.
-Why would he be with me? -Well, he...
he-he went out to find you.
Find me? Why?
[chuckles softly]
Hey, you know how Richie is.
You let my son walk out of here with a marble in his gut?
Let him?
You know, Richie does what Richie does, right?
That'’s why you're there to protect him.
Well, he was doing okay. E-English here patched him up.
Tell the boss what you did.
I did, I did what I could.
And then Richie just strolled out of here?
Well, you... yeah, he walked on two feet
and, uh, yeah, he left.
Okay. Grab the tape and let'’s go find him.
Richie took it with.
I'’m sorry, I think I misheard you.
Well, he said he was gonna bring you the tape.
He told me to stay here.
You didn'’t think maybe you should'’ve gone with him?
It'’s Richie, boss.
He...
Right? The man has something to prove,
and I figured the best thing in this situation
was to stay right here in, uh, in case you turned up.
You figured wrong.
Where exactly did he go?
Well, he didn'’t give me an itinerary.
Phone?
[phone dialing]
It'’s Roy. Is Richie there?
Well, then go check. Now.
You'’re positive? He hasn'’t been there all night?
[wood creaks]
Well, check with our North Side friends. I'’ll wait.
Damn it.
-All right. I'’m at the tailor's. -[lighter clicking]
I want you to call me back here every 15 minutes with an update.
You understand?
Every quarter hour.
-[lighter clicks] -Uh-huh.
Uh-huh.
[wood creaks]
[hangs up receiver]
[footsteps approaching]
Everything good, boss?
Not a single thing is good.
My boy is missing, the tape is missing,
and there are more blue boys on those streets
than at the St. Paddy'’s Day Parade.
[grunts]
-FRANCIS: Let'’s go find him, like you said. -Where?
Everywhere.
Hey, I don'’t like him being out there any more than you do.
And, uh, English here'’s done enough.
We should, uh... we should let him head home.
Yeah, all right.
But just you.
If Richie shows up at any of our spots,
they'’ll call here, so I'’m staying here.
[laughs softly]
Boss, if I go alone, um...
You got a problem, Francis?
No. No problem.
You stay here and I'’ll... I'’ll go find Richie.
ROY: Francis.
Bring my boy back to me.
♪
[door opens, bell jingles]
[door closes]
It'’s gonna be a long night.
They usually are, sir.
LEONARD: Some years ago,
a customer comes into my shop with a suit,
not one of mine.
The customer says, "The jacket, it'’s too big."
It is.
"The problem," I say, "is the shoulders."
But the customer says, no, he likes the shoulders.
The problem is the sleeves.
We go back and forth.
Finally, the customer says, "It'’s my money,
and I'’m telling you, cut the sleeves."
So what do I do?
I say, "Yes, sir," and then I cut the shoulders.
The customer, he comes back, tries on his suit.
"It'’s perfect," he says.
"That'’s exactly what I asked for."
♪
You learn how to do all this on the Row?
Yes, sir.
You get these on the Row, too?
My apologies.
I trained on these shears.
Every cut I'’ve made, I made with these shears.
They'’re all I brought with me when I came to Chicago.
-Please. -No, no, no, no.
Oh, no, please. Please.
[sighs]
You never told me why you left England.
It was under attack.
Ah, Nazis?
Worse.
They'’re called blue jeans.
[laughing]
I know what it'’s like
to try to make something of yourself.
Yes.
Just you and your trusted tools.
For example...
[Roy sighs]
I use this thing here to kill.
I don'’t even know how many people.
All right.
You got your tools, I got mine. Here.
Take a look.
I read something once
about how the thing that separates
man from monkeys is tools.
Do you believe all that?
Evolution?
I don'’t know.
But I do know that a man has a choice in this world
about how he uses his tools.
He can destroy or he can build.
And you think I destroy.
But, no, with this, I'’ve built loyalty.
I have built a crew. I'’ve built a neighborhood.
And the men I'’ve had to kill...
...well, you have to toss away a few scraps, don'’t you,
when you'’re cutting a pair of pants?
Have you ever heard of the Outfit?
Well, I make clothes, so...
Oh, n-not that kind of outfit.
It'’s an organization.
What, like the Rotary Club?
Maybe you'’ve heard of Al Capone?
Him I'’ve heard of.
Yeah. He started it.
-The Rotary Club? -The Outfit.
Al Capone'’s dead, isn't he?
After he died,
his organization spread out, became more of a network.
Every big-time crew from Santa Monica to Coney Island,
Italians in the East, Jews in the West,
Poles in St. Louis...
even a few sons of Killarney here and there.
The underworld United Nations.
Anybody messes with anybody, the Outfit has your back.
It'’s like a stamp.
-"You have arrived." -And have you arrived?
Almost.
They'’ve been sending us messages,
saying they like our style.
They'’re considering us,
if we can finish what we started.
And what have you started?
Putting every one of the La Fontaines in the dirt.
See, the La Fontaines aren'’t builders.
That family has been running
the same numbers racket for decades.
Their neighborhood, their rules.
Nobody ever had the balls to move in on their operation.
Until me.
This tape everyone'’s looking for,
Francis said that some powerful friends
got you a copy.
The Outfit, they those friends?
Yeah, so you understand.
That tape gets into the wrong hands,
then the entire thing comes crashing down.
Mr. Boyle, why are you telling me all this?
Because that'’s Richie's coat.
♪
Is it?
-It is. -Oh.
Well, I suppose he must have left without it.
In December?
He was in a bit of a hurry.
December in Chicago, and he went out without a coat?
You'’re hiding something, my friend.
And I'’m trying to help you understand
that even if I never find out what it is, the Outfit will.
So you want to get clear of this,
you need to tell me what really happened in here tonight.
Now.
Mr. Boyle, I'’m telling you the truth.
Monk!
Who walks out into the cold,
in December, in Chicago, without his coat?
I ain'’t good at riddles.
English, where'’s my goddamn son?
You got five seconds...
to tell me what happened.
Five, four...
[racks loudly]
-...three... -He made me promise not to tell.
Who? Who made you promise?
He said he'’d kill me if I told you.
Who?
Francis.
Mr. Boyle, what really happened to Richie
is that Francis shot...
[door opens, bell jingles]
[door closes]
Whoa.
Full house tonight, huh?
Mable.
We got some questions about Richie?
Realized I know somebody who might have some answers.
ROY: Francis, English was just about to tell me
what really happened to Richie.
English said you shot somebody.
Oh, yeah?
ROY: Hey, don'’t look at her,
don'’t look at him, you look at me.
If you tell me the truth,
there isn'’t a gun in this town can hurt you.
You are protected from him, you'’re protected from him.
You will be warmed from the elements.
But you gotta tell me the truth.
What did Francis do?
Francis shot...
[gun cocks]
Francis shot...
...four of La Fontaine'’s men
earlier this evening.
But Richie, he didn'’t shoot a single one.
He said he was embarrassed.
Ashamed.
He said he had to go and...
go and kill someone.
ROY: Kill who?
La Fontaine.
Richie made us promise not to tell you.
He knew what he was doing was dangerous.
I suppose he didn'’t want you to stop him.
You made Richie a promise, English.
-We both did. -Yes, we did.
I'’m sorry, Mr. Boyle.
So...
...where'’s Richie now?
-You'’re the receptionist? -Yes.
After Richie left, on the way to kill La Fontaine,
I think he stopped by her place.
No, he didn'’t.
Why would he stop by the receptionist'’s place?
-Because she'’s Richie's girl. -I'’m not Richie's girl.
-FRANCIS: The hell you'’re not. -I'’m not. -You're not?
-I'’m not. -MONK: Yeah, she is.
Richie likes to brag.
Mr. Boyle, all I know about tonight
is that, at 2:00 in the morning,
this ham-handed jerk knocks on my door,
tells me I gotta come with him, and when I demur, he s...
FRANCIS: When I come into her place,
there'’s a bloodstain on the carpet.
What?
That'’s not true. That's a lie. [gasps, screams]
Stop! Stop!
-Come. -[Mable sniffles]
You live close?
Down the street.
Lived on this block my whole life.
-What'’s your name? -Mable.
Sean.
Shit.
Your dad was Ryan Sean.
MABLE: That'’s what they tell me.
Did some work for me once upon a time.
He'’s a real tough guy, your dad.
Was he? I wouldn'’t know. He wasn'’t really around much.
I was sorry about...
well, what happened to him.
MABLE: Thank you.
Neighborhood'’s funny that way.
Bad thing happens to a guy, everyone is so sorry, but...
...nobody saw a thing.
It was a long time ago.
And this business, well...
sometimes bad things happen.
Mable Sean, where'’s my son?
Like I said, I don'’t have the foggiest.
Monk, get the coat.
Mr. Boyle, may I?
-ROY: You recognize this coat? -MABLE: Yeah.
That'’s Richie's coat.
ROY: And if Richie was to take off
in the middle of December, with a marble in his belly,
then Richie, who, let'’s all be honest,
is not known for his planning,
was probably intending on stopping somewhere close.
Maybe he was just going down the street to her place.
And you said you ain'’t good at riddles.
When was the last time you saw my son?
Here. Earlier today.
Boss, some bastard has been ratting on us,
-right? -ROY: Right.
FRANCIS: What if that rat bastard is a girl?
She could have overheard information from Richie.
Pillow talk and the like.
If he shows up at her place
carrying the very thing that puts the finger on her,
I'’m, I'm just saying.
We don'’t know who she'’s been ratting to
or, uh, if he might have been there when Richie showed up.
But you don'’t have to be Joe Friday
to put it all together.
LEONARD: Mr. Boyle.
I'’ve known Mable...
I'’ve known Mable for years.
I'’m willing to bet my life she has nothing to do with this.
Oh, I'’ll take that bet.
Let'’s get the lady talking.
Fuck.
-[gasps] -LEONARD: No, no.
What is wrong with...?
-[cries out] -LEONARD: No! -Where'’s Richie?
I don'’t know.
[gasps]
Richie was right about you. You'’re not a man at all.
So you and Richie did do a little talking.
-[gasping] -[racks gun] -Back up, English.
-This ain'’t your purview. -[Mable coughing]
Yeah, all right, all right, all right.
[coughing, gasping]
Francis, take her to the back room.
-FRANCIS: Go. -[Mable whimpers]
Mr. Boyle, please.
-I'’m sorry. -FRANCIS: Move.
-I am. -FRANCIS: Sit her down.
We'’ll clean up after.
♪
MABLE: I-I'’m telling you the truth.
All right, the last time that I saw Richie,
I was... I-I was inside this shop.
I was closing up for the night.
-[Mable continues indistinctly] -[flames crackling]
♪
[snips loudly]
[flames whooshing and crackling]
Hey!
Where you think you'’re going?
Uh, uh...
Nobody'’s going anywhere until we find my boy.
Mr. Boyle, sir, I-I...
I... I can'’t. I'm sorry.
-I'’ll send you away right now. -Oh, settle.
I know you have to do wh-what you have to do
to find your son.
I understand how you feel.
You understand how I feel?
I had a daughter.
I didn'’t, I didn't come to Chicago
because of...
uh, blue jeans.
There was a fire in my shop.
I-I didn'’t, I didn't even notice it at first,
I was so busy working.
The fabrics lit up.
Everything...
burned so fast.
♪
My wife and my little girl, they lived upstairs.
I heard them.
The shears, they was a gift from my wife.
So, you understand.
FRANCIS: Boss, you don'’t have to listen to...
Quiet.
LEONARD: Mr. Boyle...
...you can hurt young Mable, you can hurt me,
you can kill any one of us with a snap of your fingers...
...but it won'’t find your child...
...no matter how much you want it...
[phone ringing]
Go get it.
[ringing continues]
LEONARD: Hello?
Oh.
Really?
We'’ve all been tremendously worried.
20 minutes?
Fantastic.
Yes, yes, of course, I will.
All right.
Thank you.
[hangs up receiver]
[footsteps approaching]
What was that?
That was Richie.
He said he'’s in hiding from the La Fontaines,
but he has the tape
and he wants you to go pick him up.
31st and Halsted.
20 minutes.
Before I-I could get any more details...
[chuckles] he was gone.
Let'’s go.
We'’ll swing by the house
and pick up whoever'’s there to come with us.
Hey, may-maybe we should just take a minute.
My son is waiting.
For what are we gonna take a goddamn minute?
Let'’s get to it.
Boss?
Maybe I should wait back. Keep an eye on them, huh?
I need all the firepower I got.
FRANCIS: You really want to trust Richie'’s life to the hope
that tonight doesn'’t have any more twists in store?
If the devil himself came crashing through the roof,
I wouldn'’t be shocked right now.
All right.
Belts and suspenders.
[Mable sighs]
Make sure they don'’t go nowhere.
[door opens, bell jingles]
[wind howling]
[sniffs]
♪
[vehicle doors open, close]
-[engine starts] -[Mable sniffles]
[vehicle driving away]
[panting softly]
♪
You want to tell me who the fuck you just talked to
on that phone?
That was one of Mr. Boyle'’s men
calling to say he'’d yet to hear from Richie.
Hmm.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
Either I kill her now
and we pin tonight on her corpse...
...or I kill both of you and do it all myself.
It'’s, it's your choice.
You need her assistance.
With what do I need her assistance?
Roy Boyle is about to walk directly into an ambush.
-Who'’s ambushing him? -The La Fontaines.
And how exactly are the La Fontaines
gonna know where to ambush him?
Because Mable'’s about to tell them.
-Me? -Yes, you.
-Why me? -Because you'’re the rat.
♪
You'’ve been sleeping with Richie Boyle.
You kept hearing him talk about
his father'’s escalating war with the La Fontaines
and you saw your chance.
You sold information to La Fontaine
so that you could finally get out of Chicago.
But Francis... Francis is paranoid.
Sooner or later, you thought he would have found you out.
So you helped the FBI to plant a bug.
If the FBI could take down the Boyle crew,
you could get away clean.
But you didn'’t plan for one thing:
The Outfit.
They told the Boyles about the bug.
Richie told you.
What could you do?
You told La Fontaine.
And hoped that they would all kill each other...
...before they found you.
You got your hustle. I got mine.
You were, you were the fucking rat?
I'’ve spent my entire life
watching you leeches suck this neighborhood dry.
I am gonna love...
sitting in a café in Paris,
reading all about your funeral.
You stole the tape?
No. That was me.
♪
You knew what I was doing,
and instead of stopping me, you helped.
-Yes. -Fuck you.
I can take care of myself.
If she doesn'’t call the La Fontaines in the next...
...two minutes, I'’d say,
Roy Boyle will return, having failed to find his son.
Eventually, he'’ll discover Richie,
and then he'’ll kill all of us.
Or Mable can tell the La Fontaines
where to ambush him and offer to sell them the tape.
Now tell me,
if Roy Boyle and all his senior lieutenants die tonight,
who will be in charge of his organization?
I took six bullets for that man.
And how many has he taken for you?
He made me everything that I am today.
And today is the day that you don'’t need him anymore.
You think I'’m just gonna betray Roy Boyle that easy?
No, I don'’t think it's easy.
I think option A is: we all die.
And option B is:
you run the Boyle organization.
♪
Make the goddamn call.
I'’m not here.
♪
[phone dialing]
MABLE: Bonsoir.[clears throat]
[Mable speaking French] ...Stetson.
Stetson.
Yes, um... [clears throat]
[continues speaking French]
...Roy Boyle...
[continues speaking French]
...Halsted.
[continues speaking French]
...La Fontaine...
[continues speaking French]
[hangs up receiver]
La Fontaine wants to make a deal.
Tape for cash. One hour.
I didn'’t know you spoke French.
Francis,
the number of things about me that you don'’t know...
So what the fuck really happened to Richie?
[gasps]
♪
[lid creaks shut]
♪
[vehicle approaching]
FRANCIS: That'’s La Fontaine.
I'’m gonna hide in the back.
As soon as you peep the green, you toss me a signal.
"Count'’s right." And then...
[imitates gunshot]
This is a stupid fucking idea.
You don'’t toss me a signal,
I'’m gonna come out firing indiscriminate-like.
When La Fontaine dies tonight, I'’m not only leading our crew,
I'’m leading them into the Outfit.
It'’s the least I could do. For Roy.
[doorbell ringing]
[door sliding closed]
[whispering]: He'’s gonna kill us, too.
[bell jingles]
Bonsoir.
You'’re open late.
Mm. We work by appointment.
This is Mr. Burling.
I didn'’t know this city had any tailors so classy.
-Thank you. -[door closes]
You know how to make clothes for a lady?
I haven'’t a clue.
Désolé.
I might have an inkling.
Oh.
[chuckling]
I'’m guessing it's been quite an evening for you folks.
LEONARD: Hazard of the trade, madame.
Which one of you has my tape?
Money first.
LA FONTAINE: Please.
[La Fontaine clicking tongue]
[La Fontaine chuckles]
Looks like...
Madame La Fontaine,
are you trying to rob us?
Where'’s the money?
We'’re not showing you the tape until we see the money.
Tape first.
How do I know what'’s on it? I'’ve gotta listen.
LEONARD: Well, it seems like
you'’re just gonna have to trust us.
LA FONTAINE: Ou, peut-être,
we may be have to trust each other.
[floorboard creaks]
♪
Okay.
Let'’s make a deal.
You give me the green, I'’ll walk away.
We all live to kill each other some other time.
LA FONTAINE: You know what makes me mad?
I'’ve been running numbers in this city my whole life.
But nobody said a thing.
Cops, racket boys, nobody even noticed.
Until the second we started making real money.
Mon Dieu,this fucking city.
Since day one, people like me, people like our English friend,
we come here and we make something of ourselves.
And then right as soon as we get big enough,
you connardsshow up
with your hair slicked back,
shoes all shiny,
and you snatch it away.
Like a spoiled child who'’d rather break his own toys
than watch somebody else play with them.
So I will admit to a...
satisfaction earlier
at 31st and Halsted
when I put a gun to Roy Boyle'’s head
and watched him die as he'’d lived.
Sorry he ever met me.
LEONARD: Madame,
you have nothing to fear from this man.
Why is that?
Because earlier this evening,
I removed all the bullets from his gun.
♪
[Francis groans quietly]
Any other killers in here I should know about?
LEONARD: Only you.
A tailor.
Always listening, never talking.
But nobody stop to think: "What'’s going on in his head?"
♪
I'’m not a tailor, ma'am.
I'’m a cutter.
Un coupeur.
Au revoir.
[exhales slowly]
Mm.
They'’ll find us out.
The Boyles are all dead.
The Outfit, then.
Why would the Outfit come looking for us?
Because we took the tape that everyone is loo...
♪
LEONARD: To the naked eye,
a suit appears to consist of two parts...
The tape.
...a jacket and trousers.
It'’s just a fake.
But these two seemingly solid parts
are composed of four different fabrics.
MABLE: The Outfit has never even heard of Roy Boyle.
They didn'’t send those messages.
You did.
You'’ve been planning this for months.
Everything that happened.
You set it all up.
This contains everything that went on here this evening.
Enough to convict any remaining Boyles
of a dozen crimes
and Madame La Fontaine of the murder of Roy Boyle.
You won'’t mind, will you, popping it in the post
to your friend at the FBI?
On your way to...
[chuckles softly]
Perhaps it'’s safest if...
...I don'’t know.
But make it somewhere grand.
So what about you?
Oh, I'’ve started over before.
It'’ll be easier the second time.
-Come with me. -No.
No, come with me.
You can show me things you'’ve already seen.
You will not spend your best years
taking care of my remaining few.
MABLE: I was taking care of myself just fine, you know.
LEONARD: Oh, yes.
Knowing you, I'’m quite confident you'’d have seen to the burials
of each and every one of those murderers.
But then...
you'’d no longer be pretending to be one,
would you?
♪
I wish I could have met her.
Your real...
you know.
[chuckles softly]
She would have liked you.
♪
[Mable sniffles]
[bell jingles]
[door closes]
♪
LEONARD: Finishings, for me, can be the hardest part.
♪
Not because there'’s any great skill involved
in these final steps...
...putting on a few buttons, closing up a few edges,
but because if you'’ve done your job,
all the true craftsmanship has already occurred.
The finishings are mere inevitabilities.
♪
It'’s at the finishings
that you must come to terms with the idea
that perfection is a necessary goal...
...precisely because it is unattainable.
If you don'’t aim for perfection, you cannot make anything great.
And yet, true perfection is impossible.
[flames whooshing]
♪
[cries out]
[groaning]
[grunting]
-[gun clicking] -[gasps]
Oh.
Oh, no.
[grunting]
[groaning]
FRANCIS: Stop.
[panting]
[clatters]
LEONARD: So at the finish,
you must reconcile yourself...
...to failure.
I was like you once.
-[grunts] -I was.
[chuckles quietly]
Made my living with a gun.
A knife.
Sometimes...
...just my bare hands.
I'’d...
♪
I'’d a gift, they said.
But it wasn'’t magic.
It was work.
One day, they asked me to do something I couldn'’t do.
So I ran. I hid.
I hid on the Row.
Picked up a trade, learnt a craft, and met my wife.
Vera.
I fell in love.
We had little Lily. I fell in love again.
But they found me.
They found me.
Set fire to my shop.
My home.
My life.
I came here to get away from all that violence.
Get away from myself.
[chuckles]
M-My first day here, who did I meet?
Huh.
I suppose I put, put on these clothes
to convince myself I'’m civilized.
I want so bad to be good.
[chuckles]
[grunting]
[gasping]
♪
[gasps]
[Francis gurgling]
[gasping]
[panting softly]
[flames crackling]
[whooshing, crackling]
LEONARD: It'’s not perfect.
You have to make your peace with that.
[bell jingles]
♪
How?
Well...
you sit at your board,
you lay out your tools...
...and you start again.
♪
[music fades]