Back in the lumber yard, Nucky and Eli Thompson take the occasion of fixing a broken-down car to talk about old times and solidify their repaired relationship. Not in anything close to those terms, of course. Nucky asks if Eli got June and the kids to someplace safe (he did) and Eli asks the same of Margaret and her kids (Nucky declines to comment). They light up cigs and begin to muse about the State of Things. "We didn't stop while the going was good," Nucky muses. "I never told 'em to pass the 18th Amendment," is Eli's missing-the-point reply. Nucky wonders what it's really gotten them, but Eli says that's to worry about once Rosetti is in the ground. Nucky is pretty pessimistic about what happens after that. Eli seems to think they can get the town running again, but Nucky's like, "You're never going to be the sheriff again." Eli, reverting back to old form, takes offense, but Nucky simply means that neither of them will ever be back in power. He anticipates that he's going to be damaged goods, business-wise. Eli tries to reassure him that he can make it back. "Just offer them something they want." Nucky doesn't know how. Eli: "You're the man with all the angles."
In New York, Arnold Rothstein gets a most unwelcome call from Mickey Doyle. Mickey plays coy about being at sea "over here," and Rothstein humors him the exact minimum amount. Mickey's all, "Three words: Overholt. Distillery. Pennsylvania." He continues that a "certain person that we both know" made an arrangement with "another certain person" (oh, Jesus, Doyle, OUT WITH IT) to run it for him. This first person, says Mickey, would probably be willing to give up just about anything to keep from losing everything. Rothstein? Is listening.
Poor Lucky Luciano. He's in a jail cell, somewhere in the city, beat up and weary. Magaddino and Moceri are working him over, interrogating him. It looks like they haven't let him sleep in days. His smile is more cockeyed than usual, and even worse, his hair is starting to curl. Get this man some pomade, for God's sake! He's starting to resemble Nick from New Girl. Normally that would be a good thing, but, needless to say, Nick from New Girl would not hold up well under these conditions. The cops are all "we are the law" about things, and Lucky eventually offers to get his hands on "50 pounds of white" to give them. His? He's all "Fuck would I give you mine for?" They really seem to want HIS stash, though. Lucky wants assurances if he does such a thing, but they tell him the best he can hope for is to take a chance that things won't get worse.