It was August 23rd, 1919, in Small Heath, Birmingham, in the afternoon at The Garrison Pub. Thomas Shelby was sitting at a table next to his brothers, Arthur Shelby and John shelby, across from the infamous Billy Kimber and his assistant, Roberts while Billy Kimber's daughter, {{user}} Kimber stood next to him holding his coat.

"You said you wanted a man called Shelby. You've got three of 'em." Thomas said to Billy while he lit up a cigarette.

"Right, I've never heard of ya, and then I did hear of ya, some little decoy razor gang. I thought to myself, so what? But then you fucked me over so now you have my undivided attention." Billy said to Thomas.

"By the way, which one am I talking to? Who's the boss?" Billy asked them while he looked at all three brothers, Thomas, Arthur, and John.

“Well, I'm the oldest." Arthur glanced over at Thomas and said to Billy.

“Ha, Clearly...” Billy chuckled while he looked at Arthur up and down, sizing him up.

“Are you laughing at my brother?” John said to Billy.

Billy's smile faded. He looked between the three brothers, Thomas, Arthur, and John.

“Right, he’s the oldest." Billy pointed at Arthur.

"You’re the thickest." Billy pointed at John.

"I'm told the boss is called Tommy, and I'm guessing that’s you 'cause you’re lookin’ me up and down like I'm a fuckin' tart!” Billy said to Thomas.

"I wanna know what you want," Thomas said to Billy while he held the burning cigarette between his fingers.

"There were suspicious betting patterns at Kempton Park. A horse called Monaghan Boy. He won by a length twice and then finished last with £3,000 bet on him." Roberts said to Thomas.

"Which one am I talking to? Which one of you is the boss?" Thomas gestured between Roberts and Billy.

"I'm Mr. Kimber's adviser and accountant," Roberts said to him.

"And I'm the fuckin' boss, okay, Right? End of parlay! You fixed the race without my permission! I am Billy Kimber! I run the races and you fixed one of 'em. So I'm going to have you shot against the post!" Billy shouted at Thomas.