Peaky Blinders, Season 4

Luca Changretta:
I heard you had trouble. It's good of you to see me.

Thomas Shelby:
You just came from Paris, eh?

Luca Changretta:
You know Paris?

Thomas Shelby:
I left Paris in a cattle truck. And they said you were French.

Luca Changretta:
Well, I came here from Paris. That does not mean I'm French. Guess where I'm from?

Thomas Shelby:
Well, in that cattle truck, in Paris... There were American soldiers who played cards. They sound like you.

Luca Changretta:
Yeah. Did you win?

Thomas Shelby:
You didn't come on a train. Your suit is pressed, your shoes are clean. Where you'd get your suits made?

Luca Changretta:
I've a tailor, in New York City. Look. Funacci, Italian. He's my uncle. Makes suits in a basement in Madge street. He is my uncle, so every stitch, stitched with blood. I heard you dressed well, Mr. Shelby, but now I see, not so well as me.

Thomas Shelby:
You know, I have uncles as well. But they're not the sort of men who would, who would work in a basement with a needle and thread, Mr. Changretta.

Luca Changretta:
I am surprised how easy it was to get into a room with you.

Thomas Shelby:
[Draws his gun] And now?

Luca Changretta:
And now? And now you should know that during the trouble you had earlier on your factory floor, I sent an accomplice into your office in overalls. He found your gun. And unloaded it. [Takes out the bullets]

Luca Changretta:
[Places the bullets on the table with each name]. Arthur Shelby, Polly Gray, Michael Gray, John Shelby, [flicks bullet] spent. Ada Thorne. And finally, Tommy Shelby. None of you will survive. Your level of security is pitiful and we are an organization of a different dimension. I could've killed you when you walked through the door. But you see, I want you to be last. I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead, 'cause my mother says, that is what will hurt you the most. You people have traditions of honor, as do we. Instead of sending you a black hand I could have you killed in the night. You don't know why? But I want you to know why, and I wanna suggest to you that we fight this vendetta with honor.

Thomas Shelby:
No civilians, no children.

Luca Changretta:
No police.

Thomas Shelby:
Welcome to Birmingham, Mr. Changretta

Luca Changretta:
Grazie

Alfred Solomons:
Stretch your legs, Treacle! [Goliath gets out of the car] Fuck me, he looks like he's grown since we left London. He's like a mushroom, inne? He grows in the dark.

Goliath:
I gotta piss.

Alfred Solomons:
Yeah, yeah, well the place is a shithole, yeah, so why don't you knock yourself out? [Goliath wanders over to the wall] Where is everyone? Ishmael, please, will you hit the call of prayer? [Ishmael honks the car horn briefly] Well, hit it! [Ishmael honks a second time; Alfie rolls his eyes, comes over and pushes past him] Thank you, thank you!

Thomas Shelby:
Morning, Alfie.

Alfred Solomons:
Yeah, it is, it is! How come everybody's in fucking bed? [Goliath joins them]

Thomas Shelby:
So, this must be Goliath? Right, let me introduce you to David. This way, boys.

Alfred Solomons:
I assume that David's out of bed? Ah, now the problem right between rum and gin, is that gin, right? It leads to the melancholy. Whereas rum incites violence. And it also allows you to be liberated from the self-doubt. I hear that you're probably more in need of the old rum, rather than gin, at the moment, mate. [notices a bird flying up] Oh dear, you've got fucking starlings, mate. That shit will rot your pipework [points a gun up at the rafters] These bastards only understand one language-

Thomas Shelby:
It's all right, Alfie. There's no need, it's all right, I'm, uh, I'm getting a kestrel.

Alfred Solomons:
I hear that you've got Italians, mate. You got a kestrel for them, and all?

Thomas Shelby:
Yes, I'll have a kestrel for them as well.

Alfred Solomons:
Well, everything is confirmed, innit? No weakness behind the eyes, didn't blink too much, eh? You smell... of smoke, and coal, and horses, hmm? You're back where you belong, Tommy.

Thomas Shelby:
[offers him a glass of gin] I know you don't touch it, but you have a good nose.

Alfred Solomons:
[takes it] Alright, well, you've gotta ask yourself seriously though, you know: did I even want to piss and shit indoors, or was I actually born, that I ought to defecate in fields and outhouses? It's a serious issue though, Tommy, you know? 'Cause your people... well, your class, and my religion, is quite similar, actually, because... you just cannot wash it out, right, because [whispers] It come out your mother's tits. [tastes the gin] Mmm... Nah, the Americans want it sweeter.

Thomas Shelby:
What have you heard, Alfie?

Alfred Solomons:
I heard a cop got shot. Who shot him?

Thomas Shelby:
My kestrel.

Alfred Solomons:
Oy, oh, up the stakes. Very good.

Thomas Shelby:
Where are the Sicilians?

Alfred Solomons:
They're still using Sabini for vehicles, and for places to stay.

Thomas Shelby:
Mm-hmm. And reinforcements?

Alfred Solomons:
[scoffs] Nah. Them Sicilians, they don't trust nobody. They fucked a goat, the morning of their first pubic hair; they got traditions.

Thomas Shelby:
[nods] How many are here?

Alfred Solomons:
Eleven. Enough to drop a man who wrapped his balls in an O.B.E... 'till they fell off.

Thomas Shelby:
[pause] Well, the real question is, Alfie... which side are you playing for, eh?

Alfred Solomons:
[grins] Fucking Hell... what kinda world is it to bring up children, when your own mate can ask you that question, eh? But the truth is, Tommy, you're gonna be fucking dead soon, yeah? And then your starlings, right? They will peck out your blue eyes, won't they? The jackdaws, they will steal your gold and your medals, and pretty soon it'll be as if you never even fucking happened, mate.

Finn Shelby:
Tommy, there are men approaching.

Thomas Shelby:
Yeah, let 'em pass. [Finn leaves] Right. You tell Darby Sabini from me, that if the Italians win, they're not planning on leaving. And after me, it'll be him, and then you. Then the Titanics. And the fucking Mafia, Alfie: they've come here, can't believe our coppers are unarmed. They steal their liquor, and it's against the law. They've come here, and they like what they see. They're coming, and they're here to stay.

Aberama Gold:
[enters] Mr. Shelby! I've come to talk purse for the fight.

Alfred Solomons:
[gestures at Gold] Your kestrel? [Tommy nods] Tommy, when a pikey walks in with hair like that, you've gotta ask yourself, "Have I made a mistake?"

Aberama Gold:
Who the fuck are you?

Alfred Solomons:
Who the fuck am I?

Aberama Gold:
Who the fuck is this?!

Alfred Solomons:
I, my friend: I am the uncle, and the protector, and the promoter of that fucking thing right there, in whose shadow nothing good nor Godly will ever fucking grow! [gestures to Goliath] That there, right, is the southern counties' welterweight champion. He is of mixed religion, therefore he is Godless. He was adopted by Satan himself, before he was returned out of fear of his awkwardness, but is impossible to marry off, due to his lethal dimensions. His mother, terrified, just fucking abandoned him, and there he is, stood before you, like the first of some brand-new fucking species!. Any man you put before him, right, it'd be like entering a fucking threshing machine, mate. [chuckles] Now... Will you offer your son?

Matteo:
Mr. Solomons.

Alfred Solomons:
Hm? [not opening his eyes] My little cousin was born blind. As a result, I now donate a considerable sum of money to a charity, which gives dogs with eyes to blind Jews. The chairman of the board recommends that those of us who are blessed with the gift of sight, that, ah, we spend, you know, at least half an hour of our day with our eyes closed. So that we may... well, that we may better understand the, uh, well, the darkness. And, um also to increase our donations and that, hmm? What time is it?

Matteo:
[checks his watch] Twenty-nine minutes past eight.

Alfred Solomon:
Right. Well, I have another minute to go, actually. But you, uh, you can begin, go on.

Lucca Changretta:
[steps very close to Alfie] I'm Lucca Changretta.

Alfred Solomons:
Oh yeah, I know who you are. Hm. You're a bit of a failure, aren't you? You come all the way over 'ere to this country in order to kill Tommy Shelby, but, I mean... well, he's not dead, is he? [smirks] So...

Lucca Changretta:
No. He ain't.

Alfred Solomon:
No. How much time have I got left, mate?

Matteo:
Ten seconds. Nine seconds, eight seconds. [Lucca nods impatiently] Five. Four. Three. Two. One. [Alfie opens his eyes and looks Lucca up and down]

Alfred Solomons:
Right, 'ello. How can I help you?

Lucca Changretta:
I have a proposition for you-

Alfred Solomons:
[raises his hand] Mmm, I already know what you want.

Lucca Changretta:
Yeah?

Alfred Solomons:
I just wanna hear you say it out loud, so I can check how ridiculous it is.

Lucca Changretta:
[to Matteo, in Italian] Ok, I have my own ten seconds of patience left with this guy-

Matteo:
[In Italian]Lucca. They say this is how it is. We need him. [Alfie nods]

Lucca Changretta:
I hear there's gonna be a little fight, a boxing match. Between your boy, and Tommy Shelby's boy. Right, Birmingham? [Alfie nods] And the whole Shelby family is gonna be there?

Alfred Solomons:
[nods] Mm-hm.

Lucca Changretta:
[taps his chest] And you, Mr. Solomons... you, too, will be there.

Alfred Solomons:
Uhh... That's it. [turns, picks up two bottles of rum and gives them to the Italians] I tell you what, right? Here's a gift, it's free. Souvenir of your visit here. Goodbye, trot on. Down there is Bonnie Street.

Lucca Changretta:
[smirks, uncorks the rum and smells it] You know, they say you're a smart guy. That you already know what we want, before we say it. That's funny, 'cause now I believe I know what you want, even before you say it.

Alfred Solomons:
[nods] So, are you gonna taste it? [Lucca does so]

Lucca Changretta:
[in Italian] I think this clown wants us to run his rum... into New York.

Alfred Solomons:
Damn fucking straight, mate. Otherwise you wouldn't still be thieving my oxygen, now would ya? Because I have 200 barrels a month, yeah? Cleared by your people, distributed through your teams-

Lucca Changretta:
[smirks] Thing is, is that people want gin these days.

Alfred Solomons:
Well, the exit is still out there. Right on Bonnie Street, yeah? [sits down]

Lucca Changretta:
[chuckles] You're fuckin' crazy, you know that? 200 barrels, huh? [in Italian] He knows who we represent?

Alfred Solomon:
And also, I want some cash. And don't worry, 'cause I have broken it down here. [pulls out a slip of paper] I've got a, uh, list of costs pertaining to the assassination of a dear friend, all right? Now, your normal dispatch, well, it's, you know, 500 pounds cost. But you're gonna have to add another hundred to that, because Tommy Shelby, like me, is from an oppressed people. Then, I need you to put another ten on top of that, because his brother is a fucking animal, and he will come after me. Yeah, and then you'll need to put another hundred on top of that, because, well you are a fucking wop, mate. [Lucca glares at him, looking incredulously to Matteo] Hmm? And you. And then... we have to deal with the ugly business, of which I've been incredibly clear of, before I'll need another 500 pounds, because like I stated, Tommy Shelby is a very, very good friend of mine. [hands the paper to Matteo] Total is down there in black and white, yeah? All right, crack on.

Lucca Changretta:
It's OK. Mr. Solomons, I'm gonna be very fuckin' clear with you. I don't need you to kill anybody. I have people that I trust, okay? So you're gonna take my boys, and you're gonna bring 'em to the ring, as seconds.

Alfred Solomons:
Well, in order to qualify as my seconds, right, they would first have to qualify as being Jewish. Yeah? And in order to do that, they would have to replace their natural Italian fucking arrogance, with a Jewish air of absolute certainty. You see, my good friend Tommy Shelby, he will know the difference.

Lucca Changretta:
[smirks] These days? Back in the old country...A lot of the, uh, you know, the Jewish people? They, uh, are havin' to... are havin' to pass themselves off as Italian. [He and Mateo laugh]

Alfred Solomons:
Right, well, you'll have to add another ton onto your bill, for being a cunt, mate. All right?

Lucca Changretta:
... You will bring my men to Birmingham?

Alfred Solomons:
[nods] And you will circumcise them. [Lucca looks incredulous] Yeah, you'll have to circumcise them. Because the Peakys will check, yeah?

Lucca Changretta:
[In Italian] Piece of shit. [In English] Okay, any other requests, huh? 200 fucking barrels, we have a deal.

Alfred Solomons:
Ahh...

Lucca Changretta:
What's the matter?

Alfred Solomons:
Mmm, well...

Lucca Changretta:
I said, we have a deal.

Alfred Solomons:
Ah, well you just made a deal without a negotiation, didn't ya? [Lucca shrugs] Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you, wasn't he? [In Yiddish] ...You plan to kill us all.

Polly Gray:
It starts when you stop. When you rest. Could be nerves. The War. Might be the alcohol. Blue devils, they call that.

Thomas Shelby:
Yeah, well yeah, yeah. It's the fucking booze. It's the booze, the booze got hold and the booze got in me bones.

Polly Gray:
Lizzie wants to see you.

Thomas Shelby:
No.

Polly Gray:
Tom she's showing.

Thomas Shelby:
I don't want to see Lizzie, Pol.

Polly Gray:
Shit, maybe it's in us? Cause were Shelbys. It's in our gypsy blood. We live somewhere between life and death. Waiting to move on, and in the end, we accept it. We shake hands with devils, and we walk past them.