Rothstein's at home when he gets the call. Mrs. Rothstein tells him it's Nucky and then asks after Arnold's upset stomach, sweetly wondering if he should be eating so much apple bread. He says it has a binding effect, and "sound elimination is the basis of good health." He'd probably get along with Van Alden. At least until the whole Jew thing came up. His wife gives him a smile that is both charmed and accustomed to Arnold's particulars. I bet they have a really great marriage, you guys. Let's not assume that everyone in the '20s was a violent, philandering chauvinist! Before he picks up the receiver, Rothstein practices his "Mr. Thompson" greeting, which is just such a great touch. So much of Rothstein's business image is meticulously practiced. Nucky says he needs a port, since he's walled in by the coast guard in AC. Rothstein suggests Long Island, but it's too far. Nucky suggests Philadelphia, though AR would have to cut in Waxey Gordon in that case. Nucky doesn't look thrilled by this -- especially by the 20% to AR and 20% to Waxey he'll be giving up -- but he's in a pinch. Rothstein says his 20% brings with it protection, in the form of Luciano. Nucky is again not thrilled but what's he gonna do? They have a deal.

Chalky is at what looks like a church, holding court for the black community. There are maybe 15 people in the room, and half of them are there to air small-time grievances. There's so much deference for Chalky, especially at first, for showing up to hear their concerns. Chalky is folksy, charming, and frankly Nucky-ish with his constituents. He placates an old lady who's angry about her neighbors playing rag music too loud, and then a kitchen worker at the Ritz who talks of the terrible working conditions there. Then, when it seems that everybody's concerns have been heard, a woman stands up and asks, "What about my husband? Got his throat cut while unloading YOUR illegal liquor." Chalky promises it's being looked into, but the first woman is soon joined by another wife, and then a few mothers. There are a lot of dead men in Chalky's community right now, and it doesn't make for a placid constituency. The two presiding men -- one a flunky, the other a judge -- try to insulate Chalky from these malcontented women, but to no avail. They're standing, hands on hips, not being pacified. The first woman speaks again: "Ain't nobody put you in charge. You walk around, taking a bit off of everyone else's plate. Don't give nothing back 'cept a summer clambake and a Christmas turkey." This seems to hit Chalky where he lives.