In Chicago, Jimmy puts some money in an envelope to send back to Angela (aka the See! Not a Deadbeat! More or Less! Moment of the week). He's interrupted by one of the prostitutes, a redheaded girl who doesn't get a name, I don't think, in this episode, but she's important later on, so let's just call her Ginger for now. She suggestively asks him to come downstairs and join the revelry, but he blows her off. She leaves him with Pearl's things, including her copy of Free Air. Inside, Jimmy finds a flyer about Florida, upon which Pearl had written her and Jimmy's names on the smiling oranges. Man, that's sad.
Back in Bum-Town (or wherever Margaret just moved out of), Van Alden pounds the pavement and snoops around the recently-deserted Schroeder home. Next door, Edith emerges, and guess who had an extra helping of c-word this morning? She's all too eager to put Margaret on blast, for shortcomings both imagined (she says she carouses at night and drinks) and real ("she works for French people"). Van Alden takes this all in, though it's not clear how much he's adjusting for bitchitude. "And not four months a widow," Edith continues, clutching at pearls that she certainly doesn't own. "He was a lovely man," she says, proving her to be either the world's least attentive neighbor or a horrible shrew of a liar. She tells Van Alden about the blue limo that showed up today and carted her and the kids away. "A Rolls Royce?" Van Alden attempts to clarify. Edith's too much of a dumb cow to know what that even means, but she early says it certainly was, because why not? One parting note about Margaret before Van Alden goes? "She's a whore." Well ... Mrs. McGarry was at least polite enough not to SAY it.
Charlie Sheridan is flirting with his coat-check girl while he waits for Torrio's contingent to arrive for the meet-up. When they do -- Torrio, with Al and Jimmy -- Sheridan brags to them about how this building used to have a sign out front: "No Dogs or Irish." Now he owns the joint. Yes, yes, I'm sure Bill the Butcher is rolling in his grave. He has his people pat the three visitors for weapons, which Johnny finds a bit rich considering it was Sheridan's men who went shooting up HIS brothel. When Capone asks to return the favor, Sheridan stonewalls. "We ARE packin' heat," Sheridan assures them. Home-field advantage, I guess. Sheridan assures them "I wanted to kill youze, ya wouldn't have made it through the front door." I have to say, props to Frank Shattuck for nailing the Chicago Irish accent. It's the "youze" that sells it. Anyway, clearly there is no love lost among these factions, as they proceed upstairs.