Previously on Magic City...
We had two goddamn hurricanes this fall
that cost me the high holidays.
I blew Christmas thanks to you.
Now if I don't make good on Frank's New Year's room,
it's over.
Limestone, coral, marble--
you spent a lot on that palace of yours.
I need your help tonight.
I'd like you to talk to Mike Strauss.
Call off the strike now. Pull all our guys. It's over.
You set me up with Mike.
You put me in that hotel room.
I'll be fine, Ike.
No, you won't be.
I was the best dancer
at the best, most famous club in Havana, maybe the world.
What are you offering me, your ass in a G-string?
No. You are my wife.
You do not dance anymore.
Your husband is desperate for Garry Moore
to do a weekly CBS show here.
Garry Moore is a family variety show.
We just can't have--
We'll host your show for free.
I could dance for you, too, if you'd like.
You always knew the best of everything,
except, of course, you chose the wrong Bannock girl.
You used to call me the cabana boy.
You used to be one.
I want you to buy out my partner.
You built the Miramar for gambling.
You-- you genius!
The second it's legal, Ben.
The next session up in Tallahassee just started.
Ike will get them to vote one way or another,
and we'll be done.
Besides, it's-- it's fucking gorgeous down here.
It's his committee. I thought we had a shot.
I never thought he'd be crazy enough to take your money
and then fucking lie about it.
- If I had-- - No!
I gave you my money. You!
It's the middle of the night.
I need $100,000.
You're insane.
I am in trouble. I will give you 10, 15% of my shares.
- Who are you? - The wrong woman.
You'll burn this, right?
I got them back--
the photos, Polaroids, negatives, everything.
He's a goddamn bartender! Aah!
There's no money. No glory. Long hours.
We lose more than we win,
- so why the hell do we even bother? - Because it's right.
- What do you think? - I think we just got inside the Miramar Playa.
- No. - What have you got?
I saw Ike Evans kill a man.
Ben wants you to write something for him.
Isaac Michael Evans...
you are under arrest for the murder
of James Patrick "Jimmy Shoes" Clayton.
Sync and corrections by n17t01 www.addic7ed.com
Mikey?
Mikey, you're okay.
I'm fine.
We were so worried.
I'm good.
Mikey.
Mike!
You got a visitor.
Al Strauss came to my place this morning.
He was crazy. He was screaming you--
you belong in here, that you deserve to die in the chair.
And not for this thing in the Everglades--
for Mike. For what happened to Mike.
I asked Ben to talk to Mike.
You opened the door to that monster.
I begged Mike to back off. Begged him.
I just needed one week-- one fucking week.
I had to get the union off my back.
I thought...
that Ben could... scare him, you know?
Maybe-- maybe rough him up a little. I don't know.
But I didn't think-- I-I didn't allow myself
to think what could happen,
what Ben could do, and I should've,
'cause Mikey...
Mikey was my friend. You know that.
Everything bad that has happened in my life
came from taking Ben's money--
Mike's death, Judi nearly getting killed.
Klein, fucking this-- all because of him.
I was wrong.
You can't survive this cancer.
Walk away.
Please get out alive.
Fuck it.
I'm not going anywhere.
You hear me?
Ever.
Ben Diamond is, not me.
- It can't hurt to ask. - Yes, it can.
- You said he's your friend. - He is my friend,
but he's also an Assistant DA. You understand what that means?
Yeah, it means he knows shit about dad's case.
Ethan's not gonna leak anything about an ongoing investigation.
I wouldn't.
Just feel him out, Danny. Everybody has a price.
Not everybody.
Stevie... what if dad's guilty?
You know, the guy was a hit man, a professional killer.
Wait. What the fuck are you saying?
The judge set bail at a million dollars.
They must have some evidence.
They got shit.
Nothing.
Dad's innocent, and you fucking know it.
Right?
Danny?
Yeah.
Hey, Stevie.
Stevie! Come!
What the hell does he want?
Apparently, me.
Come on, Stevie. Leave it alone.
Yeah, right, and run away?
Right, that looks good. Look, it's all right.
You just go call your friend at the DA.
It's worth a shot.
I'll see you after the meeting, fill you in.
- Yeah. - Go. I'll be fine.
- The lad must be famished, no? - Ben, don't.
Ben. Mrs. Diamond.
No. Lily.
Lily.
The hanger steak cuts like butter today.
Please join us.
Look, I, uh, have a meeting.
Right. Right. You're running the ship
while the captain's in the break room.
You're a good man.
And how is the old skipper?
Good. He's in good spirits.
Well, that is everything, isn't it?
Million dollar bail, I hear.
How's that going?
Fine. Uh, we're, uh, you know, I'm talking to--
I'll give you 100 grand right now in cash.
That's...
You know, I appreciate it.
But we've already got other--
Well, should anything fall through, then.
You ever wonder where I got my nickname?
Nickname?
Yeah. My nickname. "The Butcher."
You ever wonder why they call me that?
Never.
I was 14 when I ran away from my orphanage,
and I got a job in a carny near Harrisburg.
I was a shy boy. Didn't do to bring attention to oneself
in the home.
But somehow, around the commotion
and the color of the carnival, I...
I bloomed.
First, I got a job as a shill.
But in a couple of months,
I was the best butcher on the lot.
And they called me "The Butcher."
Carny butcher.
Why? Did you hear another story?
Oh, come on. Don't be a shy boy.
Please. Tell me.
I heard... they say...
that you caught a hooker stealing change
from your night table.
That you cut off both of her hands
and nailed them above your bed.
Well, I guess the moral is you can't fight a good nickname.
Well...
now you call me if you need any help with, uh,
with the bail, huh?
Doesn't do to have our ike behind bars.
- Absolutely. - Okay.
Ben. Mrs. Diamond.
Uh, no. No, Lily.
Stevie Evans...
Meet Lily Diamond.
There.
Now it's done.
"I swear that Ike Evans is innocent.
Dandy Al Haas murdered Jimmy Shoes
right before my eyes,
and I will testify to that truth in court."
It's her signed, handwritten statement.
We found it on the desk in the motel
after Haas was killed.
That's probably why he came after her.
He knew she'd convict him.
Dandy Al Haas wasn't protecting himself.
He was protecting his boss.
Dandy Al Haas worked for Ben Diamond.
That's a fact.
Haas was shot trying to silence Miss Silver.
It's a fact.
Therefore, Ben Diamond hoped to silence Miss Silver. Why?
Save Ike Evans.
My only witness dies. Ike walks.
That "statement" is a meaningless distraction.
May I-- may I-- can I see that? May I see that, please?
Does anyone else but the men in this room
know about this note?
No, sir.
Doug, would you lock the door?
Yeah.
Gentlemen...
I'm not a perfect man.
Far from it.
My wife swears I snore.
Of course I'll have to trust her on that.
I work far too many hours.
I spend far too few hours with my family.
I drive my people far too hard.
But there is one quality before which I bow to no man.
I know the truth.
Judi Silver told me the truth.
- I know it. - But the letter...
I am no fool.
I am well aware that Miss Silver is not a perfect witness.
She's a whore.
It's her word against Ike Evans'.
But she is an eyewitness to a murder,
and she will testify under oath
that she saw Ike Evans kill Jimmy Clayton.
Grand jury will indict ike because I want him indicted,
and then he will be brought into a court of law,
and, gentlemen, anything-- absolutely anything can happen
when I face a guilty man in a court of law.
Ike will see his fate, and trust me,
he will beg to hand over Ben Diamond.
They are his grand jury.
Klein picked them. He owns them.
Okay.
Worst case scenario.
Worst case?
Judi makes a compelling witness, whore or no whore.
The grand jury takes Klein's lead,
and they bring back a murder indictment.
Then you know what? You go to court.
You do your fucking job, and you tear her to shreds.
You were with Vincent the night of the murder?
All night long.
We were working in my suite. He'll testify to it.
Physical evidence?
You know, Klein could be sitting on something.
Yeah. His thumb.
Vincent swears all Klein has is Judi.
Sid, he is trying to scare me.
He wants me to roll over on Ben.
He's so crazy to get Ben Diamond
that he's taking stupid chances.
This...
This is a fucking bluff.
You're positive?
I like my odds.
Oh, uh, Mrs. Evans?
- Uh, a gentleman, that Mr. Cliff Welles... - Mm-hmm?
...um, he asked me to hand you this
as he was checking out.
Cliff checked out?
Yes, ma'am, with the entire "Garry Moore Show" group
about an hour or so ago.
Thank you, Ray-Ray.
Me? Florence Greenhouse,
Mr. Evans' Executive Private Secretary.
Uh-huh.
Sorry you feel that way, sir. My dog loves your paper.
Mrs. E, wait! Mrs. E!
Gentlemen?
Vera.
Turns out that dad recently sold
a percentage of his shares in the hotel to Aunt Meg.
Did he?
Please understand. I'm not here in any official capacity.
May I ask how many shares?
15% of Ike's shares.
I see. And my husband retains the rest?
Of course, yes. I'm really, I guess, a symbolic shareholder.
If I may, a bit more than symbolic.
Vera, I'm here only as a concerned family friend
and relative.
No business agenda. Ike came to me in need,
and I-- well, of course I did what I could.
I would again.
Of course you would.
So...
Sid, maybe fill us in on dad's bail situation.
It's pretty simple.
Judge set bail at $1 million.
I've got my bondsman standing by.
And the second that we show up with $100,000, Ike is home.
But we obviously have no choice. Let's get them the money.
No, Vera, the hotel's monthly grosses are healthy,
but it's a fluid seasonal business.
Our cash flow is--
the summer months, which are historically our slowest,
are coming up.
- We have to tighten our belts. - Wait.
Look, gentlemen, as I said, I do understand
this is great sum of money,
but... this-- this palace is ours.
Mrs. Evans is right.
This hotel is worth a hundred times that number.
But the Miramar Playa upped its collateral,
- and any bank in-- - Ike won't allow it.
But why not?
Of course. He would have to reveal his minority partners.
Minority partners?
This is like "Alice In Wonderland."
I-- we-- Ike owns the Miramar, yes?
Yes, just not outright.
Ike owns the controlling percentage
of Miramar Playa Incorporated. 51%.
Actually, Mr. Evans and my client together own 51%.
Who is this minority partner?
An excellent question, Mrs. Evans.
In the deed of record, 49% of Miramar Playa Inc.,
is owned by Minneapolis Mutual Investment Corp.
Who the hell is that?
You'll have to ask your father.
Okay, okay, okay.
How else can we get my husband out of jail today?
I would loan him the money.
Please. You've done too much already.
I'm sure that with all of these fine minds here,
we can come up with a solution
that won't impose on your generosity any further.
This is a crisis, Phil. Every second
my dad sits in jail, it's a PR disaster waiting to happen.
Stevie's right.
The "Herald's" already camped out in my office.
I mean, this story breaks with Ike in jail...
- Oh, Jesus. - Okay.
We sell the empty adjoining lots and get ike out of jail.
We sell nothing.
We do not touch one foot of the Miramar Playa.
Ike dreamt this place.
He built it. He willed it, all of it.
It is his life... and mine.
- Vera-- - ...and besides, how long will a sale take?
Days? Weeks? You're right.
This... this is a crisis.
Is the unused acreage fully owned by Ike?
Those lots might be separate. Ike bought them later.
Could've kept a separate deed. I'll check.
If so, we could borrow against that property.
The bank might loan us the money immediately.
Miss Bannock would need to sign off.
Of course.
Have you been to George Lubow at the bank?
I have my jewelry.
Our artwork, cars, Ike's personal stock portfolio.
Perhaps George would be willing to make us a personal loan.
I'll call him.
Gentlemen, my husband's hotel will not be carved up
while I'm still breathing. Do you understand me?
Excuse me.
Stevie.
I think we know what we have to do. Gents?
I'll be out in a second.
May I have a word?
Vera, I'm not the enemy.
Then what exactly are you?
Ben Diamond offered Stevie the 100 grand bail money.
Fuck, no.
No.
You tell Stevie we don't take anything from that man.
- You hear me? - Okay.
Sid'll get me out.
Why didn't I toss that fucking jacket into the quarry?
Because you're not a pro.
You're not thinking right, so you handle what you can.
You're lost. So you take off.
You ball up the jacket. You throw it under the seat.
Now when I was a detective,
that's how I used to solve half the homicides.
Somebody would always do something stupid.
Hey. The jacket's gone.
Klein isn't putting up any crime scene evidence.
Just Judi. Whoever took that jacket,
some valet or what have you tossed it by now.
Because if he didn't, we'd fucking know about it.
Stevie.
Gimlet, right?
I want to apologize if I...
I...
I wasn't thinking before.
I want Ike back, you know, so bad.
If I was rude to you--
I don't care about manners. I just want my father home.
And so do I.
- Then take Meg's money. - No.
No.
No more from Meg.
Look, we'll find the money.
We'll get Ike out ourselves.
- Really? - Yes.
How?
Jesus, Vera. Take her money, now!
You let your pride or your jealousy
or whatever's keeping you from doing what's right for Ike,
and this whole thing could come down around our heads
and fucking fast.
You think you're handling this?
You think you can do this?
I'm just trying to--
Well, try harder.
Bel's coming over.
Put on something more appropriate.
Appropriate for Bel? What's wrong with this dress?
There's too much of it.
How much?
Make it an even quarter of a million.
What, you're building
the fucking Taj Mahal or something?
Close.
A ziggurat. Like in Persia.
- Oh. - It'll be the Seventh Wonder, babe.
Only the top girls--
young, clean, skin like fresh cream.
I'm gonna build a room with a see-through mirror
so that husbands can watch their wives balling other women.
It's gonna be in unincorporated Opa-locka,
so no Miami cops.
- I've got everyone bought. - Good.
Benny, this is going to be the finest poon palace
in the States.
Bel, uh, give us a second.
The hell I will.
Belvin,
Lady Renee.
Okay.
I'll give you 200-- half now, half on opening night.
I want 70% of the girls.
And you get to keep the booze,
dope, whatever else you can squeeze.
And my people are in the money room
doing the books.
Oh, did you want me to leave Helga, Queen of the Death Camps?
Perhaps some other time.
Bel and I gotta work.
Oh. And I want a schvartze. A big one.
You know, the rednecks down here love a little dark meat.
Letha from the Piney Woods of Georgia.
Black as coal, and she can crack a walnut with her labia.
Later, boys.
For her new joint in Opa-locka?
Renee always makes money.
And with Havana still gone, Chicago's growling.
Gotta feed the beast.
Well...
Hey.
We had a big day.
Not big enough.
This is all bolita?
Yeah. At least one gift from Fidel.
The spics he chased out-- they play bolita like rabbits.
A taste of home, perhaps.
Yeah. Makes 'em feel like they're still back in Cuba,
but how do you explain the schwugs?
Overtown is breaking records.
To the negro, we are hope, Belvin.
Their one shot in a million at the American dream.
Diamond residence.
Yeah.
Come on. That can't be legal.
Okay, so now what?
Yeah.
He will.
Klein burned the confession.
Fuck.
You believe that shit?
The whore testifies tomorrow.
Leave it, leave it. Bel!
Okay. Get Ike his bail and kill the girl.
Every second he sits in that cage
is another chance he'll talk.
Besides, the Miramar won't last another week without him.
Klein's got half the Miami PD guarding her room.
I can't get near it, and Stevie won't take our dough.
I'm hearing a lot of "can't" and "won't" from you, Belvin.
I can just make his bail for him.
I'll pay the bondsman. Ike walks.
Because it can't be traced back to me.
I'm Ike's silent partner for a reason.
I'm on it.
Close the door.
Hey, you bums.
Look out. The agitator.
Look who made the front page of the "Forward."
"Miami civil rights activist Dr. John Brown."
No, no. There at the end of the lunch counter.
That's you.
Hell, yeah. We sat in at the McCrory on Flagler.
CORE. Dr. Brown almost got arrested.
Meshuggener.
Yeah.
There. Bobby Kennedy.
Kennedy. The old man.
Joe Kennedy. Heh.
That anti-semitic prick-- he should rot in hell.
Mwah.
How you doing, bubbeleh?
I'm good. I'm good.
You know, summer vacation coming up.
Hey, come with me.
There's gonna be civil rights actions
all over Miami this summer.
Well, I was thinking, uh, I've been asked to work as an intern
in the State Attorney's Office.
Klein?
Maybe that's not such a hot idea.
Not right now.
Grandpa, you're a-- you know, you're a man of principal.
- Right, I mean, this stuff... - I know my right from wrong.
What if you knew something was wrong, illegal,
but to acknowledge it would, uh...
go against what was good for the family?
Why are you asking?
Nothing. You know, I, uh,
something came up at law school.
Uh-huh.
Look, who knows, you know?
But... let's say your pop does something bad.
We all do. We all make mistakes.
But he's my boy, my blood. I love him.
He might do something bad. Heh. But he cannot be bad.
Not to me.
Why am I going to hate the people of United States?
I don't hate anybody,
including my enemies...
What a load of shit. That fucking commie hates us.
Two years, I worked in The Riv--
two fucking beautiful years, man.
Money. Raining money,
and then that bearded fuck comes in.
Now they got goats and pigs shitting in the casino. Hmm.
Could I get one of those?
Thank you.
They closed 'em all?
Castro closed down the casinos, the hotels?
Well... they're open, but you could fire a gun
through The Riv and not hit a paying guest.
Ghost towns, Captain.
Mm.
Mm!
The Riv, The Capri, Nacional--
they used to print money.
Now... graveyards.
That dumb fuck. He's losing a fortune.
A fortune.
...between Communism and democracy.
Whose side-- where is your heart?
I do not agree with Communism.
My acts prove...
Millions. Up in smoke.
...full power in Cuba.
I will destroy all the...
Castro is in New York right now begging for money.
He's broke.
The fucking idiot doesn't realize
he's sitting on five
of the biggest moneymaking hotel-casinos on Earth.
He doesn't like the mob. Good. Great. Fine.
You know what? They're gone.
I'm not the mob.
You?
I'm clean.
Let him look. Others have. What's he gonna find?
Ben Diamond and his cronies in my cabana playing gin rummy?
Big fucking deal.
Here... is my offer to Fidel.
Ike Evans from the world-famous Miramar
will come in and run his hotels.
I will bring in a clean casino, man.
I will pay Fidel and his starving country 60--
okay, you know what? 70% of gross profits.
That's what, 2, $3 million a week, cash.
That is over $100 million a year.
So why the fuck do you need Sy Berman?
To get Ben Diamond out of my hotel.
Oh, God.
I'm offering a trade.
Straight up.
The Miramar for Cuba.
I will front for the outfit.
Cubans will never know the mob's getting paid.
Sy'll net a million dollars a week, to start.
I am offering Sy Havana.
He can have it back.
All he has to do...
is get Ben out of the Miramar.
I want Ben Diamond fucking gone.
Gather your belongings, Mr. Evans.
You made bail.
It's all right. It's gonna be all right.
Of course.
Of course it is.
Let's go home.
So Lubow finally came through.
Nope.
Bel Jaffe.
Bel?
Bel gave you $100,000?
Mm-hmm.
I didn't want their money, Vee.
It's just a loan.
You'll get it back the day of your trial.
He told me that you being in jail even for one day
was hurting his business, which apparently is really good.
It's not what I wanted.
We needed you.
We needed you out. I mean, what was I supposed to do?
Leave you in there?
That business, the gambling-- that's Ben's, Bel's.
Not mine. Not the Miramar's.
Vera...
I don't want you involved in this.
If you are, I am.
I owe you an apology.
I let Ben get to you.
It's my mistake, and... I am sorry.
I know he forced you to write that ridiculous new testimony,
had Al try to kill you.
But that will not happen again.
You're safe now.
You're safe with me.
Tomorrow you will tell the grand jury under oath
what we both know to be the truth.
You will tell it because it is the truth...
and because you know how I feel about lying,
how very... very unhappy it makes me.
Do you understand me, Miss Silver?
Yes.
Good. Good.
Get some rest.
I will see you in court.
Try not to dress like a cheap whore, okay?
Ike, you have a gift.
You mind if I call you "Ike"?
I've watched you.
I've seen you throughout the years
spin shit into gold, but for others.
All nothing properties that you made soar.
And now this. Finally, your finest vision,
the great Miramar Playa,
dying before your very eyes.
And your what? For a few million dollars?
It's a shonda, I tell you. It's a sin.
Frankly, I couldn't give a shit about Miami Beach.
No legal gambling and too many cranky Jews.
My casinos in Havana make more money
than grains of sand on this fucking beach.
This would be a-a diversion.
I'll give you the cash
and let you do what you know how to do best,
and you make us both a profit.
Cutty Sark on the rocks, sir?
Thank you, Ray-Ray.
My pleasure, sir.
Welcome home.
Listen, I just wanted to say thank you to all of you
for working together in my absence.
I know it's been hard, and I'm sorry.
And here's all I'm gonna say about this,
and then we're gonna move on
because there's more important things to get to.
I am innocent.
I did not do this thing for which I'm being charged.
That being said, I've got complete faith
in our legal system and know that in a matter of a few hours,
this is all gonna be
some strange and incredibly stupid memory.
Okay?
I called the follies in Paris, every girlie show in Vegas.
I tried to steal the "Moulin Rouge"
from Novack at the Fontainebleau,
and his lawyers jumped all over me.
Dad.
We're gonna have to refund.
With what? We spent that money months ago.
All right, what about a big act?
Tony Bennett. Steve and Eydie.
We took advances in cash for a Latin burlesque act.
You know, girls, dance.
Besides, we can't afford headliners in the summer.
What about Vee's show?
- What show? - Nothing.
In the Garry Moore meeting, the only thing
that got their attention was when Vera offered to dance,
to use some famous Cuban choreographer
and, you know, do something from the Tropicana.
Sounded great. Right, Vee?
Look, I knew Cliff. He'd seen me dance, worked with me before.
I thought he would be interested.
He was crazy for it.
Hey, you know, the boss' wife...
All right, Vera Evans, the Queen of the Miramar Playa,
formerly the Queen of the Tropicana, dances again.
That could be a story.
That's a damn good story. The "Herald" would eat it up.
We do a spread on the two of you,
and we get pictures of Vee at the Trop.
But it's in six weeks.
Six.
You could do that?
No.
Vee?
Could you?
Yes, we could. Cesar has plenty of our dancers from Cuba here,
and we'd use a show that we'd done before.
But, yes, we could do it.
All right.
That's good enough for me.
Is this the man, Miss Silver?
Please. Yes or no?
Yes.
Let the record show
that Miss Silver has identified the victim, James Clayton.
Continue.
He... took me out to the Everglades and...
he was going to kill me.
I guess.
Uh... I was pretty out of it.
He'd hit me, you know?
Anyhow, Jimmy was about to shoot me, and, uh...
and Dandy Al Haas took out a lead sap
and beat him to death.
Miss Silver, you have previously testified
to the State's Attorney
that you saw Isaac Michael Evans kill James Clayton that night.
I lied.
You lied?
Are you aware that you face
perjury charges right now? Prison time.
That you... that you have taken a sworn oath
to this secret grand jury?
I'm telling the truth now.
No. You're perjuring yourself right now.
Miss Silver, this is a very, very serious confession.
Can you please tell the court why you lied originally?
Because this man...
this man of the law, Jack Klein,
put a fucking gun to my face and told me to blame Ike Evans,
or he would kill me.
He told me to lie, or he would shoot me
in the face.
We'd better go see the judge.
I'd love to help you out as always, Jack.
Hell, it's your grand jury.
But, Jesus, man, you really got your tit
stuck in a wringer this time.
She's lying.
Well, of course she is.
But a lying whore telling a grand jury
that our Dade County State's Attorney
threatened her life--
I don't know. Of course, it's my judicial experience
that, uh, that kind of person--
well, they don't make for the best witnesses.
You know what I mean?
You got anything else? Anybody else?
I can get her to testify, to tell the truth.
How you gonna do that? Shoot her in the foot?
You opened this can of worms, Jackson,
and you're gonna be looking at some very, very bad press,
not to mention a legal ethics review.
You gotta drop this thing.
I thank you for your time, Your Honor.
Hey.
I wanna ask you a question. Come here.
Did you really pull a gun on that girl?
There it is. Thank you.
Pop. How about a toast?
"He who speaketh the truth,
stabbeth falsehood through the heart."
Hey.
It's all good. Okay? I promise.
You're my only boy.
That we know of.
Oh, you.
You...
Danny, my boy. How's my favorite attorney?
- Congratulations, pop. - Thank you.
Your legal system worked.
- Justice was served. - Absolutely.
No, it's great. Really.
Where've you been?
With Mercy.
They're doing a rosary for Maria at St. Patrick's.
To Maria.
I love you.
You, too.
Mr. E?
For you. It's Miss Bannock.
Meg, where are you? You should be here.
I might as well be there. I can hear you.
Well, it is a celebration.
Well, looks like I'm going to have to
eat this cake with the file in it myself.
Um, Meg, listen, uh, Stevie told me what you did.
I-I wanna thank you.
You should be here with us.
Have a drink, just-- just for a second.
Another time. Really.
Thank you, Meg.
Bye.
- Stevie. - Ben.
Ike?
Mrs. Diamond.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
May I get you something to drink?
Uh, champagne cocktail.
Big night.
You'll have your money back by morning.
I thought I'd drop by to tell you how happy I am
about the good news.
Well... you've told me.
Yes. Yes. I have.
I do not want or need your help.
You understand me?
Oh. Oh, I see.
May we have a word alone?
Uh, excuse us.
Your weekend in prison has ruined your manners, Isaac.
A simple "thank you" would suffice.
I need to get back to my family.
- Here's what I think. - I think you need to get your hands off me.
I think you've been through an ordeal.
I think you've forgotten who you can
and who you cannot disrespect.
And that is a fool's amnesia.
Isaac, it's never too late to be taught
the swift and final realities of this life of ours.
I'll drink to that.
Another time, perhaps.
Mrs. Evans.
♪ When the night comes ♪
Uh, yeah. Yeah, it's me.
We need to talk.
Ike Evans.
No, it can't wait, Sy.
I'll see you up there tomorrow for dinner.
Bye.
♪ No tests ♪
♪ When the night comes ♪
And so it begins.
So it begins.
♪ When the night comes ♪
♪ you don't have to ♪
♪ be afraid ♪
♪ of any choice you made ♪
Can you open the door?
♪ When the night comes ♪
Hi. I need to talk to you.
♪ Don't be afraid ♪
I'm sorry.
♪ You're only dreaming ♪
♪ don't be afraid ♪
♪ you're only dreaming ♪
♪ when the night comes ♪
♪ the headlines read ♪
♪ Whatever's ♪
♪ in your dreams ♪
♪ when the night comes ♪
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