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Dorothy walked behind her brother as they were escorted into Alfie Solomons' office. Alfie held the door for the Shelby's as they walked into his office, he glanced curiously at Dorothy as she followed her brother into the room.
"Well, I've heard very bad, bad, bad things about you Birmingham people," Alfie stated as he pointed his finger at Tommy. "Tsk, Tsk. Eh?" Alfie spoke turning his attention to Dorothy. "Your all Gypsies, right?" Alfie asked as Tommy pulled his matches and his cigarettes out and handed on to Dorothy. "So, what, do you live in a fucking tent or a Caravan?" Alfie asked as Dorothy sent him a harsh glare and placed the cigarette between her lips and inhaled some of the smoke before releasing it into the room.
"We came here to discuss business with you, Mr Solomons," Tommy stated Dorothy she placed one leg on top of the other and leaned against the chair she was sitting on. "Well, rum is for fun and fucking, isn't it?" Alfie stated leaning forward against his desk. "So, whiskey, now that is for Business," Alfie added as Dorothy sent Alfie a smile as she heard the word whiskey. "Let's talk first, eh?" Tommy stated as Alfie hit the table with the bottle of Whiskey and ran his hand through beard. "Suit yourself but at least allow me to pour a glass of whiskey for your sister," Alfie spoke as he pulled a glass out of his desk drawer and filled the glass with Whiskey. "Thank you, Mr Solomons," Dorothy replied as she brought the glass to her lips and swallowed some of the liquid.
" They say you had your life saved by a policeman," Alfie stated. "We have policemen on our payroll," Dorothy replied as she sent a quick to her brother. "I don't like policeman because policemen, they can't be trusted," Alfie spoke sending the twins a look. "But doesn't Mr Sabini use policemen all the time?" Dorothy question as she took another sip from the glass. "And that's why he's winning the war in London and you are losing it," Tommy added sending Mr Solomons a glare. "A war ain't over till it's over, mate." Alfie snapped back. "You were in the war?" Alfie asked as his hand went to his top draw. "We both were," Dorothy answered as she moved her gaze to another part of the room.
"I once carried out my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian," Alfie stated. "I pushed his face up against the trench and shoved a six-inch nail up his fucking nose and I hammered it home with a duckboard," Alfie explained. "Sounds fucking biblical," Dorothy spoke turning her attention back to Alfie. "it was," Alfie responded as he looked at Dorothy and saw her eyes staring back at him. Sighing he turned his attention back to Dorothy's brother, "So don't come in here and sit there in my chair and tell me I'm losing a war to a fucking wop" Alfie snapped. "That war was a long time ago. You need to be more realistic," Tommy responded calmly.
"If you weren't losing the war then you wouldn't have sent us the telegram," Tommy stated picking the cigarette up. "Really? You forget your fucking telegram. The telegram just said, 'Hello.' Face it, you want to sell me something." Alfie explained as he leaned forward against his desk. "We join forces," Tommy stated. "Fuck off." Alfie snapped making Dorothy chuckle as Tommy sent her a look. "What?" Dorothy questioned. "No! Categorical." Alfie answered leaning back in his chair. "I'll give you my sister," Tommy stated. "Fuck off." Dorothy snapped hitting her brother on the back of his head. "Yeah fucking ridiculus." Alfie agreed truning his attention to something in the room.
