EXT. SCHOOL STREET, BOSTON - SAMEFrom high above, the crowd is a sea of straw hats. Theyoverflow the red-brick chasm of School Street, continuing outof sight.SUPER: “Boston, 1920”The excited shouts of the masses float up and away likebreath on a crisp Boston morning.But it’s summer in the city. And it’s sweltering.IN THE LIMOPonzi is cool as a cucumber. Adjusting his silk necktie.An enormous diamond stickpin catches the morning light.INT. BOSTON POST WAR ROOM - SAMEA group of reporters assembles at the window to observe thespectacle below.They track the limo as it inches through the mob. Pulling upto a narrow doorway at number Twenty Seven School Street.The paper’s seasoned City Editor shakes his head andscratches at his scraggly beard.CITY EDITORPigs being led to the slaughter.EXT. SCHOOL STREET, BOSTON - SAMEThe limo driver hurries around to open the door for his boss.Admirers press in tight to get a glimpse or lay a hand on the man inside.Madness has infected the crowd. The city.MAN IN CROWDThere he is! There’s Ponzi!Ponzi steps from the limo with a wave of his gilded cane.The diverse crowd breaking into cheers and applause.2.