(upbeat jazz music) ♪♪ (door closing) - Mm.

Perfect timing!

- Oh, finally!

- So I adjusted the cardamom and added a little bit more pepper.

- And orris root?

- Mhm!

- Can't hide that one from me.

I think we have a winner.

- Well, there are still two other batches aging, so... - You know, this needs a name.

"The Trankie."

You know, Trudy and Frankie.

- No!

- What?

It's better than Frudy!

- It needs a name that sounds more dangerous, like... like "The Tranquilizer."

- Oh.

Well, that description fits.

Did you see the paper today?

- No.

- I think there's something you might wanna see.

Halfway down.

- "Suspected mobster, Giuseppe "Joe" Perry, "was found dead in his Don Jail prison cell yesterday morning."

- Not much of a surprise.

- "Few details were released, but an unnamed source suggested the cause of death was suicide."

- You know, Joe doesn't strike me as a type to take his own life.

- I guess the odds were stacked against him.

- Well, he only has himself to blame.

- Well... he had a way of growing on you.

- Yeah.

You would know.

You were with him.

- Yeah.

I was.

(sombre music) ♪♪ (music playing on gramophone) - Hey, Harry Junior.

- Hi, Frankie.

- I hear you have a fast ball that could strike out Babe Ruth.

- My curve ball is better.

9 o'clock - 12 o'clock rotation.

- I look forward to seeing it.

Wendy!

A pot of cold tea, please.

- Sure.

Your friend is on quite a roll today.

- Mahjong!

- She's cleaning house!

- It's Harry Junior, Mom.

- I can't believe how tall he's gotten.

- He takes after his father.

(indistinct speaking) - (man): Hey, kid!

What took you so long?

We don't have all day.

- Hung Fah... - You look at me when I'm talking to you!

- Get your hands off my son.

- What's going on?

- I'm not quite sure.

- You recognize them?

- You get back to your chores.

- But-- - Yeah, Hung Fah.

Listen to mother.

- Oh, lay off the kid, Joe.

- Take the spittoons outside and empty them.

- Trudy... have we crossed paths with these gentlemen before?

- I don't think so.

- I'd remember a face like that.

I'm Joe Perry.

This is my brother, Gino.

- Frankie.

She's Trudy.

- Now, now, Joe.

- Don't be a flat tire, Gino.

- Hey, if you girls aren't doing anything later, come look me up.

Top floor of the Stuart Apartments.

I will treat you to some fine, bewitching whiskey.

None of this rot-gut.

- Oh, a modern woman doesn't mind a little bewitching, Mr. Perry.

Not one bit.

- Well, I trust we have made our position clear, Wendy.

If not, I'll leave you a little reminder.

- OK.

Enough.

Let's go.

- What position was he referring to?

- Please, Frankie.

Leave it alone.

- I think we'll be on our way.

- Places to go, things to do.

- Let's go have a chat with those clowns.

- Looking forward to it.

(gunfire) (screaming) - Get down!

(screaming) (urn clattering) - HARRY!

(groaning) - HUNG FAH!

Hung Fah!

(speaking a foreign language) Hung Fah!

(theme music) ♪♪ Who did this?

- Someone in a Model T Ford.

I didn't see faces.

Those two men in your place just now, could they have something to do with this?

- Joe and Gino Perry, they're insisting that I buy whiskey from them but I can't.

We get our booze from the Petrillo family and no one crosses the Petrillos.

- So they shoot your place up to intimidate you into doing this.

Hey, come here.

- Yes, ma'am.

- All right.

You go with them.

I'm gonna handle this.

- Frankie, I don't know what I'll do if-- - It's gonna be OK. Just go.

Apparently, this was all a message from the Perrys.

- Actually, I'm not so sure about that.

There's another body.

- Who?

- Gino Perry.

Shot three times in the abdomen.

There was so much blood in the cavity, they ladled it out like they were dishin' up soup.

- So I'm gonna hazard a guess that the Perrys were the targets, not the shooters.

What else?

- Average body hair distribution for an adult male.

- Fascinating, but anything that's going to help?

- Gunpowder residue on his hand.

- He returned fire.

Anything else?

- All I call tell you is what's here in the report.

They never let me do any of the fun stuff, just toe tags and death certificates.

- So if the Perrys were the targets, who were the shooters?

- Maybe the Petrillos thought the Perrys were muscling in on their turf.

- Maybe.

Did you hear anything else back at Quon's?

- A few nasty comments about Italians and some drunk woman who was sure one of the guys in the Model T was Lena's boyfriend.

- Lena... Who's Lena?

- Apparently some burlesque dancer at one of the clubs downtown.

- OK. You track down this Lena, see if her boyfriend is part of the Petrillo family.

I'm gonna track down Joe Perry.

Maybe he'll lead us to the shooter.

- What do you care about a bunch of mobsters killing each other off?

- I'm gonna find who shot Wendy's boy and make sure it never happens again.

(jazz music) ♪♪ - I came as soon as I could.

What's so urgent?

Possible robbery?

Vanished yacht?

- Actually, I need your help finding someone.

- Oh!

That sounds exciting.

- She's a burlesque dancer.

- And because I'm a morality officer policing the wayward women of Toronto, you naturally thought of me.

- Precisely.

- So what's her name?

- Lena, and she works at some club downtown.

Do you know her?

- I know a Lena.

I secured her a nanny position in a decent household and for reasons I cannot fathom, she resigned the position which reflected poorly on yours truly, I can assure you.

- But you do know where she is?

- Yes, and I can take you there...

But it's on one condition.

- What's that?

- I come with you on your investigation.

- No way, Mary.

- Trudy, all I have ever wanted to be is a cop.

A real cop, not sort of a real cop!

This could be a chance to prove myself.

Just let me come with you!

(sighing) - Can you drop the morality officer routine?

And no measuring skirts.

- Let's go.

- But... we have to do something about that outfit first.

(man speaking indistinctly) - (woman): You never told me you were such a good dancer.

(man chuckling) (man speaking indistinctly) - Well, well.

If it isn't the Chinese cafe girl.

- Frankie.

- What are you doing here?

- You said "Come by."

Remember?

- Did I?

- I know about Gino.

I'm sorry.

Any idea who shot him?

- You're not just some speakeasy broad conning guys out of drinks, are you?

- I'm a private detective.

- Private dick, huh?

- Whoever shot Gino also shot my friend's kid, so I'm guessing we both want to find that shooter.

What do you say we work together?

- You got a car?

- Yeah.

- You're driving.

- You don't strike me as the type of guy who lets a woman drive.

- Can't drive.

- As in you don't know how?

- As in...

I took one for my brother, and that will undoubtedly affect my reaction time.

Hop in.

- So where are we going, Joe?

- Don't worry.

You'll find out when we get there.

(groaning) - You need a doctor.

- No doctors.

No hospitals.

You know a horse vet?

Maybe a midwife?

- I think I know someone.

(cabaret music) ♪♪ - (man): Big round of applause, gentlemen.

Wish those ladies great... (applause) - Great job, ladies.

Good job.

- Which one's Lena?

- I don't see her.

- Bobby!

- Trudy.

Are you ladies lost?

The show is that way.

- We're looking for Lena.

- Well, it sounds like she's just finishing up.

- You hear about the shooting in the Ward?

- Yeah.

Gino Perry bit the bullet.

- The Perrys ever shake this place down?

- We don't talk business, Trudy.

You know that.

Besides...

I'm just a bartender.

- A boy was shot, Bobby.

- I don't want any trouble with the Petrillos.

- No?

Where'd you get that Gooderham and Worts whiskey?

Pretty fancy for the Petrillos.

I'm thinking you got it from the Perrys.

Where are the Perrys getting the Gooderham and Worts?

The distillery wouldn't agree to it.

- Like I said, we don't talk business.

- Lena!

Lena!

Hi.

This is Lena, a dancer who was provided with more Christian options but instead decided-- - I changed diapers from sunrise until sunset and that husband never paid me any extra for all the extras he wanted while his wife wasn't home.

- Lena, does your boyfriend work for the Petrillos?

- Why?

- Someone thought they saw him at a shooting today.

- I heard about that.

Is the boy gonna be all right?

- We hope so.

- Well, I can't help you.

My man shipped out on a laker to Port Arthur three days ago.

(bell ringing) - Frankie, what are you doing back here?

- Flo, I need your help.

- I'd love to, but it's been-- - Look, you can finally put your medical training to use.

- What are you talking about?

- My... my friend here needs your help.

- Oh, boy.

That does not look good.

You know I've never actually-- - Hey, enough wasting time.

- Apparently... - Joe... - ...you're the gal who can get the bullet out of my ribcage, is that the case?

'Cause if not, you're taking bullets out of yourself.

- We should leave this bullet where it is.

- Says the doc with the hundred percent mortality rate.

- You should listen to her, Joe.

- It could be pressing on a blood vessel.

I move it, you could bleed o death.

- That happens, you better pray I go quick.

- Who was driving the Model T?

- Got it!

- Didn't see.

I was looking the other way.

- Well, if you were looking the other way, how did you get shot in the stomach?

- You ask a lot of questions.

(groaning) (gasping) My brother.

He tried to shoot them.

He got clipped and he shot me instead.

There, happy?

- Just a drop of antiseptic.

(howl of pain) (Flo chuckling) - Oh, that hurts!

It hurts.

- I offered you chloroform.

- Yeah, but toots, I'm no goof.

I let you chloroform me, I wake up in the slammer.

- Yeah, where the Petrillos will have a guy waiting for you with a shiv.

- It wasn't them.

- Had to have been.

You were selling on their turf, they found out and tried to take you out.

- Yeah.

Nice theory... but wrong.

- How so?

- Lydia Petrillo... God rest her soul, the most beautiful woman who ever lived.

My mother.

- You're a Petrillo?

- Yeah.

Petrillos don't bump each other off.

That's code.

- Morphine.

For the pain.

- Well... Miss Flo, this has been swell, but I gotta see a man about a dog.

- Joe, don't!

- As soon as we're out of here, she'll be running her mouth to the cops.

- If you shoot her, you're gonna have to shoot me as well.

And then who's gonna drive you?

- Well... looks like I'll need another chauffeur.

- Come on, Joe.

She took good care of you.

But more importantly, she took good care of your brother.

She showed him dignity and respect.

Right, Flo?

- I take pride in my work.

- Don't you owe her that same respect... ...as a man of honour?

- He was a good kid.

You know, I was always looking out for him and he dies protecting me.

OK. Let's go.

I know how to find you, Flo.

Understood?

(laboured breathing) (jazz music) ♪♪ - Frankie?

Frankie?

(knocking) It's open.

- Hello?

Oh!

Hi there, Trudy!

Good morning!

Homemade biscuits.

Without a proper breakfast, we aren't going to accomplish much.

- What are you doing here?

- Gooderham and Worts.

The Perrys had a deal with them.

It's your next logical step.

So I am planning on assisting you in a little discreet detective work.

I believe you would call it "going undercover."

- OK. Why don't you go to your work today?

- Mm.

At my work, I'm supposed to be fetching coffee for useless police officers while they waste time rounding up Petrillos.

- Operator, can you connect me to Riverdale 7-4-3 please?

Wait.

Why is rounding up Petrillos a waste of time?

What do you know?

- I'll tell you on the way.

- You're not coming with me.

Eric, can you do me a favour?

Can you come to the office and cover the phones, please?

Thanks.

- Trudy, if you don't let me come with you, I'm not telling you what I know about the Perrys and the Petrillos.

- Fine.

You can come.

On one condition.

- Mhm?

- We take your car.

- Oh, that's fine!

- I think that morphine kicked in.

You got a little slick back there.

Talked me out of capping that dame.

You got a smart mouth on you.

- My father taught me words can be more powerful than a pistol.

- I beg to differ.

All right.

We gotta make a stop.

- Where?

- Woods.

North of the city.

- What's in the woods?

- My guys.

- That was not part of the plan.

- Plan?

What plan?

- You, me, finding the shooter.

- Yeah.

Plan's changed.

We go to the woods.

- I don't like the idea of going into the woods to meet a bunch of gangsters.

- I never asked you how you felt.

(phone ringing) - Drake Private Detectives.

- [Who is this?]

- I'm sorry, you called me.

- Where's Trudy?

- [Trudy's not here.

I'm Eric.]

- Eric?

Who are... never mind.

Just tell Trudy that Frankie has been kidnapped.

She just left the morgue with a gangster, Joe Perry.

[Are you writing all this down?]

- I'm sorry, could you maybe repeat that?

- You must be new.

Look.

It started at Quon's.

- And really, anyone in the police office could've found out that Joe and Gino are related to the Petrillos.

- Sh!

You wanna work undercover?

Here's your chance.

- What do I do?

- Pretend to be a temporary secretary and get inside the office.

See if you can find out who's supplying the Perrys.

- Secretary.

Got it.

- I wonder if you boys could help me?

- That depends what you have going.

- My boss is opening up a joint on Chestnut Street and he sent me.

Gooderham and Worts wouldn't sell a speakeasy some fine whiskey, would they?

- No... they most certainly would not.

But for a fee, the right guy can make sure that something falls off that truck.

- Mm.

So how do I find the right guy?

- You wanna talk to Pete.

He's the fellow with the pencil-thin mustache.

- Does he like his whiskey as neat as his facial hair?

- Trudy!

TRUDY!

They're onto us!

- Well, looks like it's time for us ladies to be going.

- Well, hey!

- Toodle-oo!

- Crazy dames.

- Aren't you just dying of thirst?

Be a gentleman and buy a cola for the girl who saved your life.

- All right.

But... don't be going anywhere.

This gun loves a moving target.

- Joe?

Do not rob them.

- Wouldn't risk it for a cola, doll.

(door chimes jingling) - I actually don't need gas.

But I'm gonna need a quart of oil.

Thanks, I can do it.

It needs a woman's touch.

- It wasn't my fault.

They weren't expecting a new secretary.

What's next?

- I'm thinking.

- Trudy, wait!

I feel like I'm capable of so much more than what the police give me.

- You may not be.

- I really admire everything that you do.

And you're coloured!

- I never realized you had such a keen eye for detail.

- No, I didn't mean anything by it, I just meant you have to work so much harder to get half as far!

Trudy... Let me make it up to you somehow.

- Unless you can find the guy with the pencil-thin mustache, you can't.

- Um, Trudy... You mean like that guy?

- Unbelievable!

Come on, let's go!

- Don't say I did nothing for you.

- Almost done.

Hop in.

(upbeat jazz music) ♪♪ ♪♪ - (Frankie): So these fellas... who are they?

- Always with the questions.

All right, they're moonshiners.

- And they have something to do with this hooch you're pushing on Wendy?

- Sorta.

It's up ahead.

- Did you ever think these are the same fellas who shot Gino?

- I told you, these are my guys.

- Well, I've got to hand it to you.

You certainly have a lot of faith in the criminals you associate with.

(birds chirping) - (man): There's another one.

How does that look to you?

- (Mary): What's going on?

- (Trudy): I don't know, but we're about to find out.

- This is really fun.

- This is not fun.

"Fun" is not the word, understood?

Now follow me and do not do anything stupid.

(fast-paced jazz music) ♪♪ Stay low.

- Trudy!

(men speaking indistinctly) - They're watering down the Gooderham and Worts whiskey with their own moonshine, doubling the quantity so they can sell extra on the side.

- This is a total contravention of the law!

- Where's our man with the pencil-thin mustache?

- Right behind you.

Come on.

- Get off me.

- Boys!

We have company.

Hey!

Come here.

Who are you?

- Joe Perry sent us to pick up the load.

- You know, I kind of think he didn't.

- Look, I'm telling you the truth.

He really did-- - Police officers!

You are all under arrest!

(men chuckling) - What the hell is this?

- Mary... - Everyone freeze!

- I'm not killin' no cop.

Even if it isn't a real cop.

- Hey!

I am sort of a real cop.

- This hooch ain't worth hangin' for.

Isn't even worth going to jail over.

- Well, you are going to jail all right.

- For what, Officer?

- For operating an illegal still with the intent to violate the Ontario Temperance Act.

- And what still would that be?

- What are you doing?!

HEY!

- RUN!

- The moonshine's gonna blow!

(men shouting indistinctly) (still exploding) - (Joe): OK, here we go.

It should be right around here.

(still exploding) Get us out of here!

Now!

GO!

Hey, go!

GO!

- (Trudy): Come on, Mary!

Step on it!

(car sputtering) - (Joe): Hey.

Hey, what's going on?

No.

No.

No.

No.

OK. OK.

DAMN IT!

I gotta get a car.

OK, the next one that comes by, you stay here with the motor, I'll hide behind the car.

- Look, if we go back to the gas station, you can steal a car there.

- Fine.

If they don't kill me, the walk will.

- Tell me what's really going on, Joe.

Some still exploded.

Why does that make you a dead man?

- If I show up without hooch, some people are gonna be very upset.

- Who?

(sighing) - He looks like a kid... but he's a stone-cold killer.

Last name Capone.

- Capone?!

As in Chicago mob, Al Capone?

- That's him.

- He's demented.

- Yeah.

That's a nice way to put it.

- You ever think he was the one that to kill you back at Quon's?

- Capone?

He had no reason to.

Until now.

- So what, you were trying to sell this booze?

- Fat lot you know.

- OK, then you were gonna exchange it for something.

Hm?

Must be something pretty special.

- Yeah.

Believe me, it is.

- Maybe I can help.

- You can't.

- I could talk to this Capone.

- Yeah.

This isn't like you talking me out of killing some morgue girl.

(indistinct speaking) - Oh, hello.

- Lookin' for somethin'?

- Pretty much always am.

Eric Morrison, private detective.

And you are?

- I'm doing a little detective work myself.

- You... you wouldn't happen to know anyone by the name of Joe Perry?

I'm looking for him.

- How 'bout that?

Me too.

- What makes you think you can sweet talk Al Capone?

- My father and I used to go for ice cream floats.

I was 9 or 10.

I'd wear this really pretty necklace.

When we were done... my father would realize we didn't have any money to pay.

So my father would ask if I could stay there while he went to the bank to get some money.

- OK.

I see where this is going.

- I'd sit there, talking to the owner.

Telling them all about this necklace.

How it was actually an antique.

How it was worth this... stupidly large amount of money.

- And the owner greedily takes the bait and buys some worthless costume jewellery.

You were grifters.

- If there's one thing I know how to do, it's sweet talk somebody.

I can handle this kid.

- You're a rational woman.

And I think we make a good team.

- I already have a partner.

- I'm not talkin' about that kind of team.

- How 'bout we discuss this after I keep Al Capone from killing you?

(engine rumbling) - Hey.

Finally, something goes right!

(tense jazz music) ♪♪ Fully stocked.

Perfect.

Now all we have to do is steal it.

- Let me handle this.

Sir?

I was wondering if you couldn't help a gal out?

Go!

Go, go, go!

Come on!

(lively jazz music) ♪♪ (Joe groaning) Never underestimate the power of asking a man to buy you a cola.

- Stop!

- (Joe): Woohoo!

- Hey, stop!

Come back with my truck!

- (Joe): Yeah!

- STOP!

- So now we know how the Perrys were getting the Gooderham and Worts booze, but we're no closer to finding out who shot up Quon's.

- One step forward and two steps back.

That's the detective dance.

- But at least we took down an illegal still.

(giggling) - Hey, why'd you flash your badge back there?

- I know I complain about the force, but...

I believe the badge stands for something.

I just do.

- Would you like to come in for a drink?

- I should...

I should get back to the station and file some of this paperwork.

- It's a private residence, officer, not in any violation of the Ontario Temperance Act.

- Well, since you put it that way... - Eric, what have you done?

- It's OK. We're all detectives here, looking for the same person.

- Eric, that's-- - Lorenzo Petrillo!

Canada's King of the Bootleggers.

You look just like your poster at the station.

- Mary!

Stop talking.

♪♪ - (Joe): Looks like we're the first ones here.

We make a good team, huh?

Like the old days, you and your dad.

I think this morphine's worn off.

I need some whiskey.

Whatever happened to your old man?

- He's in a better place... with your brother.

- And your mother?

- She died when I was four.

(bottle being opened) - Got a lot in common, you and I.

Our folks are dead.

My brother's gone.

We're all alone.

Just you... and me.

I could take care of you.

- Do I strike you as the type of girl who needs taking care of, Joe?

- You come from nothin'.

I come from nothin'.

But after we deliver this truckload of whiskey, I will be King of Toronto.

And you... ...you will live like a queen, my dear.

Queen.

- I thought your Uncle Lorenzo was the King of Toronto.

- Yeah.

Well... once I make this swap, things are gonna be different.

- What are you trading the booze for?

- You'll see soon enough.

- (Lorenzo): My sources tell me you've been asking a lot of questions down in the Ward.

- I just wanna know who shot Wendy's kid.

- And what business is it of yours what goes on in the Ward?

- You got a lot of fegato for a cop, don't you?

- Oh.

He called me a cop.

Thank you, Mr. Petrillo.

But you didn't answer my question.

- Well, Mr. Morrison here tells me that your partner is with my nephew Joe.

- What?

- I'm also interested in finding Joe.

Now, what were you doing down at the Crazy Kitten?

- Someone said they saw Lena's boyfriend at the shooting.

It was a false lead.

- Someone saw Bobby at Quon's?

I should've known he was a rat.

- Wait.

Bobby?

The bartender?

He's Lena's boyfriend?

You know, Lorenzo, we might have a lead after all.

♪♪ - What took you, Scarface?

- I'd appreciate you not callin' me that.

- No disrespect meant, Mr. Capone.

- Who's the skirt?

- She's my driver.

- If you're ever lookin' to work for a real man, doll, come find me in Chicago.

- Hey.

Let's unload this booze.

(clapping) - So you've been working with Joe and Gino for a while, have you?

- First time.

- So you must've been doing business with their Uncle Lorenzo.

- Sweetheart, I didn't even know what street Canada was on until I heard from Joe here.

- You heard Gino's dead?

He was shot yesterday.

- That so?

Hm.

Shame.

I trusted him more than his brother.

To Toronto the Good.

- Got something for me?

- When whatever war you've got planned is over, let's do some business.

- That would be my pleasure, Mr. Capone.

- Good.

- Guns?

A kid gets shot.

Your own brother is dead.

And you wanna put more guns on the street?

- Yeah.

You sound like Gino after he got cold feet.

Time for Uncle Lorenzo to retire.

Make room for the new generation.

- So much for the Petrillos not bumping each other off, huh?

(cabaret music) - (man): Gentlemen, are you ready?

- You need to tell us everything you know, Lena.

- No, I need to be in Calcutta.

Calcutta's far, right?

- Not far enough if you don't tell us why you lied about who your boyfriend is.

- I didn't lie.

I have lots of boyfriends.

- Did Bobby shoot Gino Perry?

Where is he?

- Not here.

- How do we find him?

- Lorenzo Petrillo is outside and he's offered to paint your nails.

Thing is, he likes to take them off first.

So you can speak with him or you can speak with us.

The choice is yours.

- He's supposed to be picking up a shipment.

But it wasn't Bobby's fault.

I mean, he was gettin' nowhere with the Petrillos and they promised him he would be something!

- Where is he picking up the shipment?

Lena?

♪♪ - I think my driver's running late.

- You have a smoke?

You know, I've been thinking about your story, Joe.

See, I just took your word when you said that Gino shot you by accident, but what if he didn't?

- Why would my own brother wanna shoot me?

- Well, you said that he didn't wanna take down Uncle Lorenzo.

I think you were worried that he was gonna rat you out.

You ordered a hit on him.

Gino realized what was happening too late.

He tried to shoot you, but he couldn't finish the job.

- We were too far down the road to go back.

Gino...

I didn't want to have to.

- So you sat there, enjoying a drink, trying to pick me up, and the whole time you knew your brother was about to be shot full of holes.

- Hey, you don't shut up, someone else is about to be shot full of holes.

Bobby!

(suspenseful music) ♪♪ - What the hell are you doing?

- Either you let me drive away in this truck, or I blow us all up.

But either way, I'm not letting those guns on the streets.

- You are not gonna ruin this for me.

- (Trudy): That's not how you talk to a lady.

- Yes, Joe.

That's not how you talk to a lady.

- Uncle Lorenzo.

- Joe.

Bobby.

Don't break a sweat.

He's got nowhere to run.

I'm very disappointed with you, Joe.

Very disappointed.

I can overlook you muscling in on the booze down in the Ward.

That's just youthful exuberance.

But your own brother?

Get him out of here.

- Hey!

Frankie!

Frankie, you can stop this.

Use that smart mouth of yours.

- Even Einstein's mouth isn't that smart, Joe.

- Uh, Mr. Petrillo, I'm going to have to ask that Mr. Perry comes back with me to the station.

- You know what?

You're growin' on me, kid.

Go ahead, take Joe in.

It'll look good on your record.

Oh, and there's... there's this truck full of guns, too.

Nobody'll be needin' 'em.

- Joe Perry, I am placing you under arrest.

- You got someone who's gonna take care of him on the inside?

- Let the officer have her moment.

Ladies.

(upbeat jazz music) - Well, well.

If it isn't the Chinese cafe girl.

- Joe, what the hell?

I thought...

I thought you were dead.

- I guess I'm just impossible to kill.

- How did you pull it off?

- Might've cut a deal with the cops.

Exchanged some Petrillo family info for a new life.

- You faked your own death?

- Arranged.

Probably a better word.

You're not gonna invite me in?

- Of course.

Come in.

- In the joint, I had a lot of time to think about you ...and our little adventure.

Whatever happened to that kid... Hung Fah?

- He's fine.

- That's good.

Real good.

- You're taking a risk showing up here, Joe.

What if I called Lorenzo and told him you were still alive?

- I know you.

You wouldn't do that.

- So what?

Are you here to tie up a loose end?

- Why would I do that?

- We didn't exactly end things on good terms.

- You saved my life.

Hell, I even asked you to be my queen.

Yeah, you were smart not to fall for that.

- It was just a line.

- Yeah.

Yeah, I thought it was a pretty good one.

- Not really.

- You know, I wish I could say I'm sorry for everything I put you through.

But the truth is, I...

I wish I met you one day earlier.

- And why is that?

- Maybe you would've used that smart mouth on me, but maybe I... Yeah, things might've been different.

- But they're not.

- I know.

Believe me, I know.

- Joe, why are you here?

- Why am I here?

I guess I'm just here to say... goodbye.

So... goodbye... my... Chinese cafe girl.

- Wait.

That's it?

You're just gonna walk away, start a new life?

- If you're ever in Duluth, look up an Ira Philpott.

- Why are you telling me this?

- 'Cause I wanna be reminded every day that I didn't get away with a thing.

Remember, look up an Ira Philpott if you get the chance.

(sombre music) ♪♪ Closed Captioning by SETTE inc ♪♪ ♪♪