Van Alden is on pins and needles, meanwhile, thanks to a surprise field office review from Supervisor Elliot. Though "field office" continues to be stretching it, considering the bags of old mail that need to be cleared out before anyone can even sit down. Van Alden stammers that he had planned to send out such-and-such report, and Elliot shoots back, "Well you certainly had plenty of stamps!" Excellent. Elliot's also incredulous at this case Van Alden is building against Nucky Thompson as the head of a county-wide criminal organization. Where are the financial records and corroborating witnesses? Van Alden pleads for resources, but Elliot first needs numbers: casualties, damages, commandeered stills. Van Alden offers up a capital crime: the roadside raid, which he says Nucky ordered Jimmy to carry out, then blamed on Hans Schroeder. At this, Elliot perks up, "What is this obsession with this Schroeder character?" Yeah, "obsession" appears to hit the nail on the head, especially when he notes that Van Alden requisitioned the immigration file on Margaret. Van Alden says he's being "thorough." "You're a prohibition officer," Elliot deadpans, "not Bulldog Drummond." Elliot just wants the numbers.

Across town, Nucky is in bed with a less-scratchy paramour than before: the aforementioned Mrs. Schroeder. He asks what time it is, and he corrects her answer of "half-three" to the more American "three-thirty." But he doesn't want her going overboard with her American accent. Actually, Nuck, anyone who's seen No Country for Old Men can attest that Kelly MacDonald is pretty excellent while going overboard with an American accent. Anyway, Margaret frets about what the neighbors will say, seeing her shacking up with a man like Nucky. He tells her they won't be her neighbors for long. He's setting her up in a sweet new apartment, see. Margaret then spots the scratch wounds on his chest, and while she's not fooled for a moment by his claim of a "hunting accident," she doesn't get jealous or anything. She gets out of bed, though, having to go pick up children, and then to work. She excuses herself to the bathroom, where she grabs her Family Planning pamphlet from atop a tall shelf, then follows its instructions to ... I'm going to say "douche with Lysol." Okay, 1) aren't old-timey workaround solutions the best? And 2) I don't know if we have an award for Awkward Product Placement of the Week, but if we do, Lysol wins it in a walk.