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.
At the post office, Agents Sawicky and Clarkson are totaling up seized moneys, but when Clarkson offers to process the cash, Van Alden elbows him out, making me think he's planning on skimming more Lucy money. When Van Alden heads to the loo, Clarkson starts grumbling about him, and about how he thinks he's gone dirty. Sawicky isn't sold, but Clarkson saw him a few weeks back, driving with a suspicious person. He tailed him to a bar; a bootlegging operation. Clarkson wants to tell world, but Sawicky tells him he has to be sure. Van Alden returns, furious that somebody scribbled "Van Asshole" on the bathroom wall. That could have literally been anybody. That could have been me.
Margaret addresses the staff at home about their payment. Only she totally lies and says that due to cutbacks in their finances, the maids will be taking a pay cut. COLD, lady! Further, she tells them that just for this week, she and Nucky will be giving them a two-dollar bonus. So she gets to stick it to the help for no good reason AND try to look magnanimous with the bonus? Mags, love you, but: Bitch. The maids are all silent but expectant. At Margaret's insistence, Katy finally says that they were actually expecting a raise. Nucky had told them it would be forthcoming one night, possibly while drunk. Margaret, unmoved, says, "It's a special kind of fool to believe the promises of a drunkard," and leaves them to their tasks.