Mobsters Page #2

Frank Costello, now sixteen, sits on a stoop across from

P.S. 34, as the younger kids pass on their way to school.

Occasionally one will break from the stream of traffic and

place a penny in Frank's outstretched palm. A BOY IN A

YARMULKE hands Frank a penny and whispers to him.

FRANK STARES ACROSS THE STREET

at a group of Irish boys gathered around MIKE SHANE, red-

haired and a head taller than the others. Frank nods and

gives the Boy a reassuring pat on the back. As the school

bell rings, the Boy joins the others rushing into the

building, leaving Frank and the Irish gang alone on opposite

sides of the street.

TWO JEWISH BOYS - YOUNGER THAN FRANK

and small in stature, come casually along the sidewalk,

unconcerned with getting to class on time. MEYER LANSKY has

the bookish demeanor of a Yeshiva boy. BUGSY SIEGEL, an almost

comically cocky strut. Costello calls to them as they pass.

FRANK:

Hey, fellas. Ya know them Micks over

there don't like no Heebs.

Lansky glances over his shoulder at Shane and his gang. Turns

back to Costello. Defiant.

LANSKY:

Yeah. So who the f*** does?

SIEGEL:

Come on. Tell us, Shitface.

Costello jumps up and seizes Siegel by the shirt.

FRANK:

Yeah. Well we don't sell protection

ta a**holes anyhow.

Siegel moves right into Costello's face, swinging fiercely.

Lansky shouts encouragement, as the startled Costello falls

back onto the stoop.

LANSKY:

Kick him in the balls!

A pair of arms grab Siegel and pull him off Costello.

CHARLIE LUCIANO SHAKES HIS HEAD

As he holds the kicking and punching Siegel in mid-air like

a helpless snapping turtle.

LUCIANO:

Frankie. Didn't I tell ya about makin'

nice ta the customers?

Frank climbs up. Embarrassed.

LUCIANO:

You fellas got names?

LANSKY:

(still defiant)

Lansky. Meyer Lansky. And that's

Bugsy Siegel ya got there.

Siegel continues to struggle in Luciano's grip.

SIEGEL:

They call me Bugsy 'cause I'm f***in'

crazy, man.

Charlie lowers Siegel to the sidewalk.

FRANK:

No sh*t.

Luciano glares at Costello.

LUCIANO:

Tell ya what. In consideration of

this little misunderstanding, we're

gonna give you fellas protection for

free.

Lansky looks over to the Irish gang, then back to Charlie.

LANSKY:

Keep your f***in' Dago protection.

As Lansky and Siegel turn and head toward the school, Charlie

grabs the seething Costello, then LAUGHS.

CUT TO:

INT:
DARK STAIRWAY - DAY

Charlie and Frank lug a heavy wooden crate up the stairs to

the Luciano family's fifth floor tenement.

INT:
LUCIANO KITCHEN - DAY

Antonio pries the top off the wooden crate and extracts a

huge prosciutto ham wrapped in burlap. Mrs. Luciano couldn't

be more in awe if the Virgin Mary herself had just appeared.

ROSALIE LUCIANO:

(IN ITALIAN)

Prosciutto... from Lercara Friddi.

Charlie eyes the ham, the taste already in his mouth. He

leans to Frankie.

CHARLIE:

Stayin' for dinner, Paisan?

ROSALIE LUCIANO:

(IN ITALIAN)

No! Prosciutto must hang to dry before

you eat it. He may come on Sunday.

CUT TO:

INT:
LUCIANO KITCHEN - DAY

Antonio Luciano sits silently at the table, along with Frankie

and Bartolo, all anxiously watching Rosalie prepare Sunday

dinner. The ham still hangs over the sink. Sweating from the

heat, Antonio flaps the coat of his ill-fitting peasant's

suit. Irritated, Rosalie slaps a bottle of wine on the table.

ROSALIE:

(IN ITALIAN)

Dinner will be ready when the dinner

is ready.

Charlie enters from the bedroom wearing a blue seersucker

suit. Antonio pours Frankie a niggardly portion of the wine.

CHARLIE:

Careful, Pop. Frankie might get his

throat wet.

ANTONIO:

(IN ITALIAN)

I work from seven until seven. Every

day. But on Sunday I can only afford

one bottle of wine. How can my son,

who does not work at all, afford a

new suit?

Charlie grabs the wine bottle, filling Frankie's glass, then

his father's. Antonio looks to Frankie, then back to Charlie.

ANTONIO LUCIANO:

(IN ITALIAN)

I know of the things you do.

There's a knock on the door. Antonio looks up with

trepidation.

AT THE DOOR:

A well-dressed man forces his way inside past Antonio.

MOLIARI:

(IN ITALIAN)

When you wanted money to buy a bed,

you were under my feet.

Moliari marches into the apartment, looking for collateral.

The pickings are mighty thin. Antonio trails helplessly

behind.

ANTONIO LUCIANO:

(IN ITALIAN)

Saturday I will pay double.

Moliari turns to face Antonio. His voice falling to a whisper.

MOLIARI:

(IN ITALIAN)

So I should ask Don Maranzano?

An edge of panic creeps into Antonio's voice.

ANTONIO LUCIANO:

No. No. No. Don Maranzano? No.

Moliari's eyes light upon the prosciutto hanging over the

sink. Rosalie moves to block his path, but Moliari pushes

her aside, and lifts the ham off the hook.

ROSALIE LUCIANO:

Please, no... An-to-nio.

Rosalie grabs the ham from Moliari, as Charlie picks up a

carving knife and jumps up from the table. Utterly impotent,

Antonio calls to his wife.

ANTONIO LUCIANO:

ROSALIE. NO!

Moliari wrestles the ham back from Rosalie, and back-hands

her across the face. Antonio grabs Charlie, and twists the

knife from his hand. Moliari retreats to the door with the

ham.

MOLIARI:

(IN ITALIAN)

And you must still pay double!

As Moliari exits, Charlie pulls away from his father, raises

an arm threateningly, then drops it in disgust.

CUT TO:

INT:
JEWISH BAKERY - DAY

Meyer Lansky fights his way to the front of a crowd of kids

waving claim tickets for the cholents (a kind of meat pie)

that they had dropped off earlier to be baked for their

families' Sabbath dinners. Spotting Meyer, the clerk sets a

crockery dish on the counter. Wrapping rags around his hands,

Meyer picks it up, steam venting through cuts in the crust.

CUT TO:

EXT:
MULBERRY STREET - DAY

Charlie and Frank lean against a wall, idly swapping a smoke.

Frank elbows Charlie, and nods to the far side of the street.

ACROSS THE STREET

Moliari emerges from an apartment building with DON MARANZANO,

an older man, resplendent in a white suit, hat, and cape. He

waves a pair of white gloves as he gestures to Moliari.

CHARLIE:

Who's Mr. Tutti-Frutti?

Frank shoots Charlie a withering look.

FRANK:

That's Don Maranzano. He drops one a

them f***in' gloves at your feet,

you're dead.

CHARLIE:

Ya comin' in?

Frank lays a restraining hand on Charlie.

FRANK:

Moliari knows ya got a beef. We gotta

figure somethin'.

UP THE STREET:

Meyer Lansky burrows through the sidewalk crowds, being

careful not to bump into anyone with the hot cholent.

FROM THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION

Mike Shane and two of his Irish pals strut down the street

like they own it. As they near Charlie and Frank walking in

the opposite direction, Shane whispers to his cohorts. Staring

at Shane as they pass, Charlie hawks and spits on the

sidewalk.

KEEPING HIS EYE ON CHARLIE, SHANE RUNS HEAD ON INTO LANSKY

Lansky barely retains his grip on the cholent.

LANSKY:

Look where ya goin', Turdbrain!

Amazed that this pipsqueak would challenge him, Shane looks

with amused skepticism to his pals. Then suddenly, he grabs

Meyer by the neck and squeezes.

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