You've seen that there's no one here tonight to guard him. Now I've just gotten
Word some men will come into the hospital to kill him. Please believe me and help
me." He could be extraordinarily persuasive when he wanted to be.
15 The nurse said, "We don't have to disconnect the tubes. We can wheel the
stand with the bed."
16 "Do you have an empty room?" Michael whispered.
17 "At the end of the hall," the nurse said.
It was done in a matter of moments, very quickly and very efficiently. Then
250
Michael said to the nurse, "Stay here with him until help comes. If you're outside
at your station you might get hurt."
At that moment he heard his father's voice from the bed, hoarse but full of
strength, "Michael, is it you? What happened, what is it?"
20 Michael leaned over the bed. He took his father's hand in his. "It's Mike," he
said. "Don't be afraid. Now listen, don't make any noise at all, especially if
Somebody calls out your name. Some people want to kill you, understand? But
I'm here so don't be afraid."
Don Corleone, still not fully conscious of what had happened to him the day
Before, in terrible pain, yet smiled benevolently on his youngest son, wanting to
tell him, but it was too much effort, "Why should I be afraid now? Strange men
have come to kill me ever since I was twelve years old."
(Примечание для редакции: с этого момента весь комментарий идет в сносках
внизу страницы.)
Chapter 10
The hospital was small and private with just one entrance. Michael looked through the
window down into the street. There was a curved courtyard that had steps leading down
into the street and the street was empty of cars. But whoever came into the hospital
would have to come through that entrance. He knew he didn't have much time so he ran
out of the room and down the four flights and through the wide doors of the ground floor
entrance. Off to the side he saw the ambulance yard and there was no car there, no
ambulances either.
Michael stood on the sidewalk outside the hospital and lit a cigarette. He unbuttoned
his coat and stood in the light of a lamppost so that his features could be seen. A young
|
|
|
man was walking swiftly down from Ninth Avenue, a package under his arm. The young
man wore a combat jacket and had a heavy shock (копна, скирда) of black hair. His
face was familiar when he came under the lamplight but Michael could not place it. But
the young man stopped in front of him and put out his hand, saying in a heavy Italian
251
accent, "Don Michael, do you remember me? Enzo, the baker's helper to Nazorine the
Paniterra; his son-in-law. Your father saved my life by getting the government to let me
stay in America."
Michael shook his hand. He remembered him now. Enzo went on, "I've come to pay
my respects to your father. Will they let me into the hospital so late?"
Michael smiled and shook his head. "No, but thanks anyway. I'll tell the Don you
came." A car came roaring down the street and Michael was instantly alert. He said to
Enzo, "Leave here quickly. There may be trouble. You don't want to get involved with
the police."
He saw the look of fear on the young Italian's face. Trouble with the police might
mean being deported or refusal of citizenship. But the young man stood fast. He
whispered in Italian. "If there's trouble I'll stay to help. I owe it to the Godfather."
Michael was touched. He was about to tell the young man to go away again, but then
he thought, why not let him stay? Two men in front of the hospital might scare off any of
Sollozzo's crew sent to do a job. One man almost certainly would not. He gave Enzo a
cigarette and lit it for him. They both stood under the lamppost in the cold December
night. The yellow panes (pane – оконное стекло; панель) of the hospital, bisected
(разделенные, разрезанные надвое) by the greens of Christmas decorations,
twinkled down on them. They had almost finished their cigarettes when a long low black
car turned into 30th Street from Ninth A venue and cruised (to cruise [kru:z] –
|
|
|
совершать круиз, курсировать; промчаться) toward them, very close to the curb. It
almost stopped. Michael peered to see their faces inside, his body flinching involuntarily.
The car seemed about to stop, then speeded forward. Somebody had recognized him.
Michael gave Enzo another cigarette and noticed that the baker's hands were shaking.
To his surprise his own hands were steady.
They stayed in the street smoking for what was no more than ten minutes when
suddenly the night air was split by a police siren. A patrol car made a screaming turn
from Ninth Avenue and pulled up in front of the hospital. Two more squad (группа,
команда) cars followed right behind it. Suddenly the hospital entranceway was flooded
with uniformed police and detectives. Michael heaved a sigh of relief. Good old Sonny
must have gotten through right away. He moved forward to meet them.
Two huge, burly policemen grabbed his arms. Another frisked him. A massive police
captain, gold braid on his cap, came up the steps, his men parting respectfully to leave
a path. He was a vigorous man for his girth (подпруга; обхват /талии/) and despite the
252
white hair that peeked out of his cap. His face was beefy red. He came up to Michael
and said harshly, "I thought I got all you guinea hoods locked up. Who the hell are you
and what are you doing here?"
One of the cops standing beside Michael said, "He's clean, Captain."
Michael didn't answer. He was studying this police captain, coldly searching his face,
the metallic blue eyes. A detective in plain clothes said, "That's Michael Corleone, the
Don's son."
Michael said quietly, "What happened to the detectives who were supposed to be
guarding my father? Who pulled them off that detail (наряд, расчет, команда)?"
The police captain was choleric with rage. "You fucking hood, who the hell are you to
|
|
|
tell me my business? I pulled them off. I don't give a shit how many dago (даго –
произвище итальянца, испанца, португальца) gangsters kill each other. If it was up to
me (если бы это зависело от меня), I wouldn't lift a finger to keep your old man from
getting knocked off. Now get the hell out of here. Get out of this street, you punk, and
stay out of this hospital when it's not visiting hours."
Michael was still studying him intently. He was not angry at what this police captain
was saying. His mind was racing furiously. Was it possible that Sollozzo had been in
that first car and had seen him standing in front of the hospital? Was it possible that
Sollozzo had then called this captain and said, "How come the Corleones' men are still
around the hospital when I paid you to lock them up?" Was it possible that all had been
carefully planned as Sonny had said? Everything fitted in. Still cool, he said to the
captain, "I'm not leaving this hospital until you put guards around my father's room."
The captain didn't bother answering. He said to the detective standing beside him, "Phil,
lock this punk up."
The detective said hesitantly, "The kid is clean, Captain. He's a war hero and he's never
been mixed up in the rackets. The papers could make a stink."
The captain started to turn on the detective, his face red with fury. He roared out,
"Goddamn it, I said lock him up."
Michael, still thinking clearly, not angry, said with deliberate malice (злоба ['mжlıs]),
"How much is the Turk paying you to set my father up, Captain?"
The police captain turned to him. He said to the two burly patrolmen, "Hold him."
Michael felt his arms pinned to his sides. He saw the captain's massive fist arching
(arch – дуга; to arch – изгибаться дугой) toward his face. He tried to weave away
(отклониться; to weave – ткать, плести; качаться, отклоняться) but the fist caught
|
|
|
him high on the cheekbone. A grenade exploded in his skull. His mouth filled with blood
253
and small hard bones that he realized were his teeth. He could feel the side of his head
puff up as if it were filling with air. His legs were weightless and he would have fallen if
the two policemen had not held him up. But he was still conscious. The plainclothes
detective had stepped in front of him to keep the captain from hitting him again and was
saying, "Jesus Christ, Captain, you really hurt him."
The captain said loudly, "I didn't touch him. He attacked me and he fell. Do you
understand that? He resisted arrest."
Through a red haze (легкий туман, дымка) Michael could see more cars pulling up to
the curb. Men were getting out. One of them he recognized as Clemenza's lawyer, who
was now speaking to the police captain, suavely (suave [swα:v] – учтивый,
обходительный) and surely. "The Corleone Family has hired a firm of private
detectives to guard Mr. Corleone. These men with me are licensed to carry firearms,
Captain. If you arrest them, you'll have to appear before a judge in the morning and tell
him why."
The lawyer glanced at Michael. "Do you want to prefer (выдвинуть /требование,
обвинение/) charges (обвинения) against whoever did this to you?" he asked.
Michael had trouble talking. His jaws wouldn't come together but he managed to
mumble. "I slipped," he said. "I slipped and fell." He saw the captain give him a
triumphant glance and he tried to answer that glance with a smile. At all costs he
wanted to hide the delicious icy chilliness that controlled his brain, the surge of wintry
cold hatred that pervaded his body. He wanted to give no warning to anyone in this
world as to how he felt at this moment. As the Don would not. Then he felt himself
carried into the hospital and he lost consciousness.
When he woke up in the morning he found that his jaw had been wired together and
that four of his teeth along the left side of his mouth were missing. Hagen was sitting
beside his bed.
"Did they drug me up?" Michael asked.
"Yeah," Hagen said. "They had to dig some bone fragments out of your gums (десны)
and they figured it would be too painful. Besides you were practically out anyway."
"Is there anything else wrong with me?" Michael asked.
"No," Hagen said. "Sonny wants you out at the Long Beach house. Think you can
make it?"
"Sure," Michael said. "Is the Don all right?"
Hagen flushed. "I think we've solved the problem now. We have a firm of private
254
detectives and we have the whole area loaded. I'll tell you more when we get in the car."
Clemenza was driving, Michael and Hagen sat in the back. Michael's head throbbed
(to throb – сильно биться, пульсировать). "So what the hell really happened last night,
did you guys ever find out?"
Hagen spoke quietly. "Sonny has an inside man, that Detective Phillips who tried to
protect you. He gave us the scoop (лопатка, совок, черпак; сенсационная новость;
здесь – информация). The police captain, McCluskey, is a guy who's been on the take
(to be on the take – брать взятки) very heavy ever since he's been a patrolman. Our
Family has paid him quite a bit. And he's greedy and untrustworthy (ненадежный, не
заслуживающий доверия) to do business with. But Sollozzo must have paid him a big
price. McCluskey had all Tessio's men around and in the hospital arrested right after
visiting hours. It didn't help that some of them were carrying guns. Then McCluskey
pulled the official guard detectives off the Don's door. Claimed he needed them and that
some other cops were supposed to go over and take their place but they got their
assignments bollixed (to bollix – испортить, изгадить /напр. работу/). Baloney (вздор,
чепуха /сленг/ [b∂'l∂unı]). He was paid off to set the Don up. And Phillips said he's the
kind of guy who'll try it again. Sollozzo must have given him a fortune for openers and
promised him the moon to come."
"Was my getting hurt in the papers?"
"No," Hagen said. "We kept that quiet. Nobody wants that known. Not the cops. Not
us."
"Good," Michael said. "Did that boy Enzo get away?"
"Yeah," Hagen said. "He was smarter than you. When the cops came he disappeared.
He claims he stuck with you while Sollozzo's car went by. Is that true?"
"Yeah," Michael said. "He's a good kid."
"He'll be taken care of," Hagen said. "You feeling OK?" His face was concerned. "You
look lousy (паршиво, отвратительно: «вшиво»)."
"I'm OK," Michael said. "What was that police captain's' name?"
"McCluskey," Hagen said. "By the way, it might make you feel better to know that the
Corleone Family finally got up on the scoreboard (на табло; score – зарубка; счет
очков). Bruno Tattaglia, four o'clock this morning."
Michael sat up. "How come (как так)? I thought we were supposed to sit tight."
Hagen shrugged. "After what happened at the hospital Sonny got hard. The button
men are out all over New York and New Jersey. We made the list last night. I'm trying to
255
hold Sonny in, Mike. Maybe you can talk to him. This whole business can still be settled
without a major war."
"I'll talk to him," Michael said. "Is there a conference this morning?"
"Yeah," Hagen said. "Sollozzo finally got in touch and wants to sit down with us. A
negotiator is arranging the details. That means we win. Sollozzo knows he's lost and he
wants to get out with his life." Hagen paused. "Maybe he thought we were soft, ready to
be taken, because we didn't strike back. Now with one of the Tattaglia sons dead he
knows we mean business. He really took an awful gamble bucking (to buck –
становиться на дыбы, взбрыкивать /пытаясь сбросить седока/) the Don. By the way,
we got the confirmation on Luca. They killed him the night before they shot your father.
In Bruno's nightclub. Imagine that?"
Michael said, "No wonder they caught him off guard."
At the houses in Long Beach the entrance to the mall was blocked by a long black car
parked across its mouth. Two men leaned against the hood (капюшон; капот
/автомобиля/) of the car. The two houses on each side, Michael noticed, had opened
windows on their upper floors. Christ, Sonny must really mean business.
Clemenza parked the car outside the mall and they walked inside it. The two guards
were Clemenza's men and he gave them a frown of greeting that served as a salute.
The men nodded their heads in acknowledgment. There were no smiles, no greetings.
Clemenza led Hagen and Michael Corleone into the house.
The door was opened by another guard before they rang. He had obviously been
watching from a window.
They went to the corner office and found Sonny and Tessio waiting for them. Sonny
came to Michael, took his younger brother's head in his hands and said kiddingly,
"Beautiful. Beautiful." Michael knocked his hands away, and went to the desk and
poured himself some scotch, hoping it would dull the ache (притупит боль; ache [eık])
in his wired jaw.
The five of them sat around the room but the atmosphere was different than their
earlier meetings. Sonny was gayer, more cheerful, and Michael realized what that
gaiety meant. There were no longer any doubts in his older brother's mind. He was
committed (принял решение, ввязался) and nothing would sway (поколебать) him.
The attempt by Sollozzo the night before was the final straw (последней соломинкой =
последней каплей). There could no longer be any question of a truce (перемирие).
256
"We got a call from the negotiator while you were gone," Sonny said to Hagen. "The
Turk wants a meeting now." Sonny laughed. "The balls on that son of a bitch," he said
admiringly. "After he craps out (to crap out – проигрывать; crap – дерьмо; to crap –
изгадить, испортить) last night he wants a meeting today or the next day. Meanwhile
we're supposed just to lay back and take everything he dishes out (предложит; to dish
– подавать еду, раскладывать по тарелкам). What fucking nerve."
Tom asked cautiously. "What did you answer?"
Sonny grinned. "I said sure, why not? Anytime he says, I'm in no hurry. I've got a
hundred button men out on the street twenty-four hours a day. If Sollozzo shows one
hair on his asshole he's dead. Let them take all the time they want."
Hagen said, "Was there a definite proposal?"
"Yeah," Sonny said. "He wants us to send Mike to meet him to hear his proposition.
The negotiator guarantees Mike's safety. Sollozzo doesn't ask us to guarantee his
safety, he knows he can't ask that. No point. So the meeting will be arranged on his side.
His people will pick Mike up and take Mike to the meeting place. Mike will listen to
Sollozzo and then they'll turn him loose. But the meeting place is secret. The promise is
the deal will be so good we can't turn it down."
Hagen asked, "What about the Tattaglias! What will they do about Bruno?"
"That's part of the deal. The negotiator says the Tattaglia Family has agreed to go
along with Sollozzo. They'll forget about Bruno Tattaglia. He pays for what they did to
my father. One cancels out (to cancel – вычеркивать, аннулировать) the other." Sonny
laughed again. "The nervy (смелый, волевой) bastards."
Hagen said cautiously, "We should hear what they have to say."
Sonny shook his head from side to side. "No, no, Consigliori, not this time." His voice
held a faint trace of Italian accent. He was consciously mocking his father just to kid
around (высмеивать, подшучивать). "No more meetings. No more discussions. No
more Sollozzo tricks. When the negotiator gets in touch with us again for our answer I
want you to give him one message. I want Sollozzo. If not, it's all-out war. We'll go to the
mattresses and we'll put all the button men out on the street. Business will just have to
suffer."
"The other Families won't stand for an all-out war," Hagen said. "It puts too much heat
on everybody."
Sonny shrugged. "They have a simple solution (решение /проблемы/). Give me
Sollozzo. Or fight the Corleone Family." Sonny paused, then said roughly, "No more
advice on how to patch it up (patch – клочок, лоскут; to patch up – латать, ставить
заплаты), Tom. The decision is made. Your job is to help me win. Understand?"
257
Hagen bowed his head. He was deep in thought for a moment. Then he said, "I spoke
to your contact in the police station. He says that Captain McCluskey is definitely on
Sollozzo's payroll and for big money. Not only that, but McCluskey is going to get a
piece of the drug operation. McCluskey has agreed to be Sollozzo's bodyguard. The
Turk doesn't poke his nose out of his hole without McCluskey. When he meets Mike for
the conference, McCluskey will be sitting beside him. In civilian clothes but carrying his
gun. Now what you have to understand, Sonny, is that while Sollozzo is guarded like
this, he's invulnerable. Nobody has ever gunned down a New York police captain and
gotten away with it. The heat in this town would be unbearable what with the
newspapers, the whole police department, the churches, everything. That would be
disastrous. The Families would be after you. The Corleone Family would become
outcasts. Even the old man's political protection would run for cover. So take that into
consideration (прими в расчет, в размышление)."
Sonny shrugged. "McCluskey can't stay with the Turk forever. We'll wait."
Tessio and Clemenza were puffing on their cigars uneasily, not daring to speak, but
sweating. It would be their skins that would go on the line if the wrong decision was
made.
Michael spoke for the first time. He asked Hagen, "Can the old man be moved out of
the hospital onto the mall here?"
Hagen shook his head. "That's the first thing I asked. Impossible. He's in very bad
shape. He'll pull through but he needs all kinds of attention, maybe some more surgery
(операция, хирургическое вмешательство). Impossible."
"Then you have to get Sollozzo right away," Michael said. "We can't wait. The guy is
too dangerous. He'll come up with some new idea. Remember, the key is still that he
gets rid of the old man. He knows that. OK, he knows that now it's very tough so he's
willing to take defeat for his life. But if he's going to get killed anyway, he'll have another
crack (нанесет удар) at the Don. And with that police captain helping him who knows
what the hell might happen. We can't take that chance. We have to get Sollozzo right
away."
Sonny was scratching his chin thoughtfully. "You're right, kid," he said. "You got right
to the old nuts (совершенно /сленг/). We can't let Sollozzo get another crack at the old
man."
Hagen said quietly, "What about Captain McCluskey?"
Sonny turned to Michael with an odd little smile. "Yeah, kid, what about that tough
police captain?"
258
Michael said slowly, "OK, it's an extreme. But there are times when the most extreme
measures are justified (средства оправданы). Let's think now that we have to kill
McCluskey. The way to do it would be to have him heavily implicated so that it's not an
honest police captain doing his duty but a crooked (изогнутый, кривой; искаженный;
добытый нечестным путем) police official mixed up in the rackets who got what was
coming to him, like any crook (крючок, крюк; жулик, ренегат). We have newspaper
people on our payroll we can give that story to with enough proof so that they can back
it up. That should take some of the heat off. How does that sound?" Michael looked
around deferentially (почтительно, с уважением) to the others. Tessio and Clemenza
had gloomy (мрачный) faces and refused to speak. Sonny said with the same odd
smile, "Go on, kid, you're doing great. Out of the mouths of infants (устами
младенца …), as the Don always used to say. Go ahead, Mike, tell us more."
Hagen was smiling too a little and averting his head. Michael flushed. "Well, they want
me to go to a conference with Sollozzo. It will be me, Sollozzo and McCluskey all on our
own. Set up the meeting for two days from now, then get our informers to find out where
the meeting will be held. Insist that it has to be a public place, that I'm not going to let
them take me into any apartments or houses. Let it be a restaurant or a bar at the
height of the dinner hour, something like that, so that I'll feel safe. They'll feel safe too.
Even Sollozzo won't figure that we'll dare to gun the captain. They'll frisk me when I
meet them so I'll have to be clean then, but figure out a way you can get a weapon to
me while I'm meeting them. Then I'll take both of them."
All four heads turned and stared at him. Clemenza and Tessio were gravely
astonished. Hagen looked a little sad but not surprised. He started to speak and thought
better of it. But Sonny, his heavy Cupid's face twitching with mirth (веселье, чувство
веселости), suddenly broke out in loud roars (рев; хохот) of laughter. It was deep belly
laughter, not faking (без притворства; to fake – подделовать, фальсифицировать).
He was really breaking up. He pointed a finger at Michael, trying to speak through
gasps of mirth. "You, the high-class college kid, you never wanted to get mixed up in
the Family business. Now you wanta kill a police captain and the Turk just because you
got your face smashed by McCluskey. You're taking it personal, it's just business and
you're taking it personal. You wanta kill these two guys just because you got slapped in
the face. It was all a lot of crap. All these years it was just a lot of crap."
Clemenza and Tessio, completely misunderstanding, thinking that Sonny was
laughing at his young brother's bravado for making such an offer, were also smiling
broadly and a little patronizingly at Michael. Only Hagen warily (осторожно) kept his
face impassive. Michael looked around at all of them, then stared at Sonny, who still
259
couldn't stop laughing. "You'll take both of them?" Sonny said. "Hey, kid, they won't give
you medals, they put you in the electric chair. You know that? This is no hero business,
kid, you don't shoot people from a mile away. You shoot when you see the whites of
their eyes like we got taught in school, remember? You gotta stand right next to them
and blow their heads off and their brains get all over your nice Ivy League («Лига
Плюща» – a group of colleges and universities in the northeastern U.S., consisting of
Yale, Harvard, Princeton, Columbia, Dartmouth, Cornell, the University of Pennsylvania,
and Brown, having a reputation for high scholastic achievement and social prestige) suit.
How about that, kid, you wanta do that just because some dumb cop slapped you
around?" He was still laughing.
Michael stood up. "You'd better stop laughing," he said. The change in him was so
extraordinary that the smiles vanished (исчезли) from the faces of Clemenza and
Tessio.
Michael was not tall or heavily built but his presence seemed to radiate danger. In that
moment he was a reincarnation of Don Corleone himself. His eyes had gone a pale tan
and his face was bleached (to bleach – белить, отбеливать; обесцвечивать) of color.
He seemed at any moment about to fling himself on his older and stronger brother.
There was no doubt that if he had had a weapon in his hands Sonny would have been
in danger. Sonny stopped laughing, and Michael said to him in a cold deadly voice,
"Don't you think I can do it, you son of a bitch?"
Sonny had got over his laughing fit (приступ). "I know you can do it," he said. "I wasn't
laughing at what you said. I was just laughing at how funny things turn out. I always said
you were the toughest one in the Family, tougher than the Don himself. You were the
only one who could stand off (держаться на расстоянии; противостоять) the old man.
I remember you when you were a kid. What a temper you had then. Hell, you even used
to fight me and I was a lot older than you. And Freddie had to beat the shit out of you at
least once a week. And now Sollozzo has you figured for the soft touch in the Family
because you let McCluskey hit you without fighting back and you wouldn't get mixed up
in the Family fights. He figures he got nothing to worry about if he meets you head to
head. And McCluskey too, he's got you figured for a yellow guinea." Sonny paused and
then said softly, "But you're a Corleone after all, you son of a bitch. And I was the only
260
one who knew it. I've been sitting here waiting for the last three days, ever since the old
man got shot, waiting for you to crack out of that Ivy League, war hero bullshit character
you've been wearing. I've been waiting for you to become my right arm so we can kill
those fucks that are trying to destroy our father and our Family. And all it took was a
sock (удар) on the jaw. How do you like that?" Sonny made a comical gesture, a punch,
and repeated, "How do you like that?"
The tension had relaxed in the room. Mike shook his head. "Sonny, I'm doing it
because it's the only thing to do. I can't give Sollozzo another crack at the old man. I
seem to be the only one who can get close enough to him. And I figured it out. I don't
think you can get anybody else to knock off a police captain. Maybe you would do it,
Sonny, but you have a wife and kids and you have to run the Family business until the
old man is in shape. So that leaves me and Freddie. Freddie is in shock and out of
action. Finally that leaves just me. It's all logic. The sock on the jaw had nothing to do
with it."
Sonny came over and embraced him. "I don't give a damn what your reasons are, just
so long as you're with us now. And I'll tell you another thing, you're right all the way.
Tom, what's your say?"
Hagen shrugged. "The reasoning is solid. What makes it so is that I don't think the
Turk is sincere (искренний [sın'sı∂]) about a deal. I think he'll still try to get at the Don.
Anyway on his past performance (исполнение; действие, поступок) that's how we
have to figure him. So we try to get Sollozzo. We get him even if we have to get the
police captain. But whoever does the job is going to get an awful lot of heat. Does it
have to be Mike?"
Sonny said softly, "I could do it."
Hagen shook his head impatiently. "Sollozzo wouldn't let you get within a mile of him if
he had ten police captains. And besides you're the acting head of the Family. You can't
be risked." Hagen paused and said to Clemenza and Tessio, "Do either one of you have
a top button man, someone really special, who would take on this job? He wouldn't
have to worry about money for the rest of his life."
Clemenza spoke first. "Nobody that Sollozzo wouldn't know, he'd catch on right away.
He'd catch on if me or Tessio went too."
Hagen said, "What about somebody really tough who hasn't made his rep yet, a good
rookie (новичок, новобранец)?"
Both caporegimes shook their heads. Tessio smiled to take the sting (жало) out of his
words and said, "That's like bringing a guy up from the minors to pitch (бросать,
посылать мяч) the World Series (/baseball/ an annual series of games between the
winning teams of the two major leagues: the first team to win four games being
champions of the U.S.)"
Sonny broke in curtly, "It has to be Mike. For a million different reasons. Most
261
important they got him down as faggy (гомосексуалист; /здесь/ трус). And he can do
the job, I guarantee that, and that's important because this is the only shot we'll get at
that sneaky bastard Turk. So now we have to figure out the best way to back him up.
Tom, Clemenza, Tessio, find out where Sollozzo will take him for the conference, I don't
care how much it costs. When we find that out we can figure out how we can get a
weapon into his hands. Clemenza, I want you to get him a really 'safe' gun out of your
collection, the 'coldest' one you got. Impossible to trace. Try to make it short barrel
(бочонок; ствол, дуло /ружья, пистолета/) with a lot of blasting (to blast –
взрывать/ся/) power. It doesn't have to be accurate. He'll be right on top of them when
he uses it. Mike, as soon as you've used the gun, drop it on the floor. Don't be caught
with it on you. Clemenza, tape (обматывать лентой; tape – лента) the barrel and the
trigger (курок) with that special stuff you got so he won't leave prints (отпечатки).
Remember, Mike, we can square everything, witnesses, and so forth, but if they catch
you with the gun on you we can't square that. We'll have transportation and protection
and then we'll make you disappear for a nice long vacation until the heat wears off.
You'll be gone a long time, Mike, but I don't want you saying good-bye to your girl friend
or even calling her. After it's all over and you're out of the country I'll send her word that
you're OK. Those are orders." Sonny smiled at his brother. "Now stick with Clemenza
and get used to handling the gun he picks out for you. Maybe even practice a little. We'll
take care of everything else. Everything. OK, kid?"
Again Michael Corleone felt that delicious refreshing chilliness all over his body. He
said to his brother, "You didn't have to give me that crap about not talking to my girl
friend about something like this. What the hell did you think I was going to do, call her
up to say good-bye?"
Sonny said hastily, "OK, but you're still a rookie so I spell things out. Forget it."
Michael said with a grin, "What the hell do you mean, a rookie? I listened to the old
man just as hard as you did. How do you think I got so smart?" They both laughed.
Hagen poured drinks for everyone. He looked a little glum (мрачно, хмуро). The
statesman forced (государственный деятель, вынужденный) to go to war, the lawyer
forced to go to law. "Well, anyway now we know what we're going to do," he said.
Chapter 11
Captain Mark McCluskey sat in his office fingering three envelopes bulging with
betting slips (игральные карточки; slip – длинная узкая полоска; бланк). He was
262
frowning and wishing he could decode the notations on the slips. It was very important
that he do so. The envelopes were the betting slips that his raiding parties had picked
up when they had hit one of the Corleone Family bookmakers the night before. Now the
bookmaker would have to buy back the slips so that players couldn't claim winners and
wipe him out.
It was very important for Captain McCluskey to decode the slips because he didn't
want to get cheated when he sold the slips back to the bookmaker. If there was fifty
grand worth of action, then maybe he could sell it back for five grand. But if there were a
lot of heavy bets and the slips represented a hundred grand or maybe even two
hundred grand, then the price should be considerably higher. McCluskey fiddled
(вертел в руках; fiddle – вертеть; to fiddle – играть на скрипке) with the envelopes
and then decided to let the bookie sweat a little bit and make the first offer. That might
tip off (может подсказать) what the real price should be.
McCluskey looked at the station house clock on the wall of his office. It was time for
him to pick up that greasy (сальный, грязный) Turk, Sollozzo, and take him to
wherever he was going to meet the Corleone Family. McCluskey went over to his wall
locker (запирающийся шкафчик) and started to change into his civilian clothes. When
he was finished he called his wife and told her he would not be home for supper that
night, that he would be out on the job. He never confided (to confide – доверять/ся/;
вверять /тайну/) in his wife on anything. She thought they lived the way they did on his
policeman's salary (зарплата). McCluskey grunted with amusement. His mother had
thought the same thing but he had learned early. His father had shown him the ropes
(методы работы; rope – веревка, канат; петля).
His father had been a police sergeant, and every week father and son had walked
through the precinct and McCluskey Senior had introduced his six-year-old son to the
storekeepers (владельцы магазинов), saying, "And this is my little boy."
The storekeepers would shake his hand and compliment him extravagantly and ring
open their cash registers to give the little boy a gift of five or ten dollars. At the end of
the day, little Mark McCluskey would have all the pockets of his suit stuffed with paper
money, would feel so proud that his father's friends liked him well enough to give him a
263
present every month they saw him. Of course his father put the money in the bank for
him, for his college education, and little Mark got at most a fifty-cent piece for himself.
Then when Mark got home and his policemen uncles asked him what he wanted to be
when he grew up and he would lisp childishly, "A policeman," they would all laugh
uproariously. And of course later on, though his father wanted him to go to college first,
he went right from high school to studying for the police force.
He had been a good cop, a brave cop. The tough young punks terrorizing street
corners fled when he approached and finally vanished from his beat altogether. He was
a very tough cop and a very fair one. He never took his son around to the storekeepers
to collect his money presents for ignoring garbage violations (нарушения по выбросу
мусора ['gα:bıdG]) and parking violations; he took the money directly into his own hand,
direct because he felt he earned it. He never ducked into a movie house or goofed (to
goof – лодырничать, слоняться без дела) off into restaurants when he was on foot
patrol as some of the other cops did, especially on winter nights. He always made his
rounds. He gave his stores a lot of protection, a lot of service. When winos (алкаши)
and drunks filtered up from the Bowery to panhandle on his beat (попрошайничать на
патрулируемом им участке; panhandle – ручка кастрюли) he got rid of them so
roughly that they never came back. The tradespeople in his precinct appreciated (to
appreciate [∂ ‘prı:∫ıeıt] – ценить) it. And they showed their appreciation.
He also obeyed the system. The bookies in his precinct knew he would never make
trouble to get an extra payoff for himself, that he was content for his share of the station
house bag (своей долей из общего котла; station house – полицейский участок; bag
– сумка; кошелек). His name was on the list with the others and he never tried to make
extras. He was a fair cop who took only clean graft (работа, профессия; взятка) and
his rise in the police department was steady if not spectacular (эффектный).
During this time he was raising a large family of four sons, none of whom became
policemen. They all went to Fordham University and since by that time Mark McCluskey
was rising from sergeant to lieutenant and finally to captain, they lacked for nothing. It
was at this time that McCluskey got the reputation for being a hard bargainer (to bargain
[‘bα:gın] – торговаться, заключать сделку). The bookmakers in his district paid more
protection money than the bookmakers in any other part of the city, but maybe that was
because of the expense of putting four boys through college.
McCluskey himself felt there was nothing wrong with clean graft. Why the hell should
his kids go to CCNY or a cheap Southern college just because the Police Department
didn't pay its people enough money to live on and take care of their families properly
with? He protected all these people with his life and his record showed his citations
264
(вызовы в суд; упоминания в списках об отличившихся) for gun duels with stickup
(грабеж) men on his beat, strong-arm protection guys, would-be (претендующий, с
претензией на то, чтобы быть кем-то) pimps (сутенеры). He had hammered them
into the ground. He had kept his little corner of the city safe for ordinary people and he
sure as hell was entitled (имеющий право, уполномоченный) to more than his lousy
one C note (стодолларовая купюра) a week. But he wasn't indignant (возмущен)
about his low pay, he understood that everybody had to take care of themselves.
Bruno Tattaglia was an old friend of his. Bruno had gone to Fordham with one of his
sons and then Bruno had opened his nightclub and whenever the McCluskey family
spent an infrequent (нечастый) night on the town, they could enjoy the cabaret with
liquor and dinner – on the house. On New Year's Eve they received engraved
invitations to be guests of the management and always received one of the best tables.
Bruno always made sure they were introduced to the celebrities (знаменитости) who
performed in his club, some of them famous singers and Hollywood stars. Of course
sometimes he asked a little favor, like getting an employee with a record cleared for a
cabaret work license, usually a pretty girl with a police dossier as a hustler or roller
(вор-карманник). McCluskey would be glad to oblige (сделать одолжение, угодить
[∂b'laıdG]).
McCluskey made it a policy never to show that he understood what other people were
up to. When Sollozzo had approached him with the proposition to leave old man
Corleone uncovered in the hospital, McCluskey didn't ask why. He asked price. When
Sollozzo said ten grand, McCluskey knew why. He did not hesitate. Corleone was one
of the biggest Mafia men in the country with more political connections than Capone
had ever had. Whoever knocked him off would be doing the country a big favor.
McCluskey took the money in advance (заранее, задатком; advance [∂d'vα:ns] –
движение вперед; аванс) and did the job. When he received a call from Sollozzo that
there were still two of Corleone's men in front of the hospital he had flown into a rage.
He had locked up all of Tessio's men, he had pulled the detective guards off the door of
Corleone's hospital room. And now, being a man of principle, he would have to give
back the ten grand, money he had already earmarked (earmark – клеймо /на ухе/,
тавро; to earmark – клеймить; откладывать деньги /на что-либо/) to insure the
education of his grandchildren. It was in that rage that he had gone to the hospital and
struck Michael Corleone.
But it had all worked out for the best. He had met with Sollozzo in the Tattaglia
nightclub and they had made an even better deal. Again McCluskey didn't ask
questions, since he knew all the answers. He just made sure of his price. It never
occurred to him that he himself could be in any danger. That anyone would consider
even for a moment killing a New York City police captain was too fantastic. The
toughest hood in the Mafia had to stand still (по стойке смирно) if the lowliest
patrolman decided to slap him around. There was absolutely no percentage in killing
cops. Because then all of a sudden a lot of hoods were killed resisting arrest or
265
escaping the scene of a crime, and who the hell was going to do anything about that?
McCluskey sighed and got ready to leave the station house. Problems, always
problems. His wife's sister in Ireland had just died after many years of fighting cancer
and that cancer had cost him a pretty penny. Now the funeral would cost him more. His
own uncles and aunts in the old country needed a little help now and then to keep their
potato farms and he sent the money to do the trick. He didn't begrudge (жадничать,
жалеть, скупиться) it. And when he and his wife visited the old country they were
treated like a king and queen. Maybe they would go again this summer now that the war
was over and with all this extra money coming in. McCluskey told his patrolman clerk
where he would be if he was needed. He did not feel it necessary to take any
precautions. He could always claim Sollozzo was an informer he was meeting. Outside
the station house he walked a few blocks and then caught a cab to the house where he
would meet with Sollozzo.
It was Tom Hagen who had to make all the arrangements for Michael's leaving the
country, his false passport, his seaman's card, his berth (койка) on an Italian freighter
(грузовой корабль ['freıt∂]) that would dock in a Sicilian port. Emissaries were sent that
very day by plane to Sicily to prepare a hiding place with the Mafia chief in the hill
country.
Sonny arranged for a car and an absolutely trustworthy driver to be waiting for
Michael when he stepped out of the restaurant where the meeting would be held with
Sollozzo. The driver would be Tessio himself, who had volunteered for the job. It would
be a beat-up-looking (побитый, обшарпанный) car but with a fine motor. It would have
phony license plates and the car itself would be untraceable. It had been saved for a
special job requiring the best.
Michael spent the day with Clemenza, practicing with the small gun that would be
gotten to him. It was a .22 filled with soft-nosed bullets that made pinpricks
266
(булавочные уколы) going in and left insulting gaping holes when they exited from the
human body. He found that it was accurate up to five of his steps away from a target
(цель). After that the bullets might go anywhere. The trigger was tight (тугой) but
Clemenza worked on this with some tools (инструменты) so that it pulled easier. They
decided to leave it noisy. They didn't want an innocent bystander misunderstanding the
situation and interfering out of ignorant courage. The report of the gun would keep them
away from Michael.
Clemenza kept instructing him during the training session. "Drop the gun as soon as
you've finished using it. Just let your hand drop to your side and the gun slip out.
Nobody will notice. Everybody will think you're still armed. They'll be staring at your face.
Walk out of the place very quickly but don't run. Don't look anybody directly in the eye
but don't look away from them either. Remember, they'll be scared of you, believe me,
they'll be scared of you. Nobody will interfere. As soon as you're outside Tessio will be
in the car waiting for you. Get in and leave the rest to him. Don't be worried about
accidents. You'd be surprised how well these affairs go. Now put this hat on and let's
see how you look." He clapped a gray fedora (мягкая фетровая шляпа [fı'd∂ur∂]) on
Michael's head. Michael, who never wore a hat, grimaced. Clemenza reassured him. "It
helps against identification, just in case. Mostly it gives witnesses an excuse to change
their identification when we make them see the light. Remember, Mike, don't worry
about prints. The butt (рукоятка) and trigger are fixed with special tape. Don't touch any
other part of the gun, remember that."
Michael said, "Has Sonny found out where Sollozzo is taking me?"
Clemenza shrugged. "Not yet. Sollozzo is being very careful. But don't worry about
him harming you. The negotiator stays in our hands until you come back safe. If
anything happens to you, the negotiator pays."
"Why the hell should he stick his neck out?" Michael asked.
"He gets a big fee (вознаграждение, гонорар)," Clemenza said. "A small fortune.
Also he is an important man in the Families. He knows Sollozzo can't let anything
happen to him. Your life is not worth the negotiator's life to Sollozzo. Very simple. You'll
be safe all right. We're the ones who catch hell afterwards."
"How bad will it be?" Michael asked.
"Very bad," Clemenza said. "It means an all-out war with the Tattaglia Family against
the Corleone Family. Most of the others will line up with the Tattaglias. The Sanitation
Department will be sweeping up a lot of dead bodies this winter." He shrugged. "These
things have to happen once every ten years or so. It gets rid of the bad blood. And then
267
if we let them push us around on the little things they wanta take over everything. You
gotta stop them at the beginning. Like they shoulda stopped Hitler at Munich, they
should never let him get away with that, they were just asking for big trouble when they
let him get away with that."
Michael had heard his father say this same thing before, only in 1939 before the war
actually started. If the Families had been running the State Department there would
never have been World War II, he thought with a grin.
They drove back to the mall and to the Don's house, where Sonny still made his
headquarters. Michael wondered how long Sonny could stay cooped up (coop –
курятник; to coop – сажать в курятник, в клетку) in the safe territory of the mall.
Eventually he would have to venture (отважиться) out. They found Sonny taking a nap
on the couch. On the coffee table was the remains of his late lunch, scraps of steak and
bread crumbs and a half-empty bottle of whiskey.
His father's usually neat office was taking on the look of a badly kept furnished room.
Michael shook his brother awake and said, "Why don't you stop living like a bum
(лодырь; /здесь/ бродяга) and get this place cleaned up?"
Sonny yawned. "What the hell are you, inspecting the barracks? Mike, we haven't got
the word yet where they plan to take you, those bastards Sollozzo and McCluskey. If we
don't find that out, how the hell are we going to get the gun to you?"
"Can't I carry it on me?" Michael asked. "Maybe they won't frisk me and even if they
do maybe they'll miss it if we're smart enough. And even if they find it – so what. They'll
just take it off me and no harm done."
Sonny shook his head. "Nah," he said. "We have to make this a sure hit on that
bastard Sollozzo. Remember, get him first if you possibly can. McCluskey is slower and
dumber. You should have plenty of time to take him. Did Clemenza tell you to be sure to
drop the gun?"
"A million times," Michael said.
Sonny got up from the sofa and stretched. "How does your jaw feel, kid?"
"Lousy," Michael said. The left side of his face ached except those parts that felt numb
because of the drugged wire holding it together. He took the bottle of whiskey from the
table and swigged (swig – большой глоток /спиртного/; to swig – пить большими
глотками) directly from it. The pain eased.
Sonny said, "Easy, Mike, now is no time to get slowed up by booze (спиртное,
бухло)."
Michael said, "Oh, Christ, Sonny, stop playing the big brother. I've been in combat
268
against tougher guys than Sollozzo and under worse conditions. Where the hell are his
mortars (минометы)? Has he got air cover? Heavy artillery? Land mines? He's just a
wise son of a bitch with a big-wheel (важный, влиятельный /человек/) cop sidekick
(закадычный друг /сленг/). Once anybody makes up their mind to kill them there's no
other problem. That's the hard part, making up your mind. They'll never know what hit
them."
Tom Hagen came into the room. He greeted them with a nod and went directly to the
falsely listed telephone. He called a few times and then shook his head at Sonny. "Not a
whisper," he said. "Sollozzo is keeping it to himself as long as he can."
The phone rang. Sonny answered it and he held up a hand as if to signal for quiet
though no one had spoken. He jotted some notes down on a pad, then said, "OK, he'll
be there," and hung up the phone.
Sonny was laughing. "That son of a bitch Sollozzo, he really is something. Here's the
deal. At eight tonight he and Captain McCluskey pick up Mike in front of Jack
Dempsey's bar on Broadway. They go someplace to talk, and get this. Mike and
Sollozzo talk in Italian so that the Irish cop don't know what the hell they are talking
about. He even tells me, don't worry, he knows McCluskey doesn't know one word in
Italian unless it's 'soldi' (деньги) and he's checked you out, Mike, and knows you can
understand Sicilian dialect."
Michael said dryly, "I'm pretty rusty (ржавый; запущенный) but we won't talk long."
Tom Hagen said, "We don't let Mike go until we have the negotiator. Is that
arranged?"
Clemenza nodded. "The negotiator is at my house playing pinochle (вид карточной
игры) with three of my men. They wait for a call from me before they let him go."
Sonny sank back in the leather armchair. "Now how the hell do we find out the
meeting place? Tom, we've got informers with the Tattaglia Family, how come they
haven't given us the word?"
Hagen shrugged. "Sollozzo is really damn smart. He's playing this close to the vest,
so close that he's not using any men as a cover. He figures the captain will be enough
and that security is more important than guns. He's right too. We'll have to put a tail on
Mike and hope for the best."
Sonny shook his head. "Nah, anybody can lose a tail when they really want to. That's
the first thing they'll check out."
269
By this time it was five in the afternoon. Sonny, with a worried look on his face, said,
"Maybe we should just let Mike blast whoever is in the car when it tries to pick him up."
Hagen shook his head. "What if Sollozzo is not in the car? We've tipped our hand for
nothing. Damn it, we have to find out where Sollozzo is taking him."
Clemenza put in, "Maybe we should start trying to figure why he's making it such a big
secret."
Michael said impatiently, "Because it's the percentage. Why should he let us know
anything if he can prevent it? Besides, he smells danger. He must be leery
(подозрительый, осторожный, осмотрительный) as hell even with that police captain
for his shadow."
Hagen snapped his fingers. "That detective, that guy Phillips. Why don't you give him
a ring, Sonny? Maybe he can find out where the hell the captain can be reached. It's
worth a try. McCluskey won't give a damn who knows where he's going."
Sonny picked up the phone and dialed a number. He spoke softly into the phone, then
hung up. "He'll call us back," Sonny said.
They waited for nearly another thirty minutes and then the phone rang. It was Phillips.
Sonny jotted something down on his pad and then hung up. His face was taut (туго
натянутый, подтянутый [to:t]). "I think we've got it," he said. "Captain McCluskey
always has to leave word on where he can be reached. From eight to ten tonight he'll be
at the Luna Azure up in the Bronx. Anybody know it?"
Tessio spoke confidently. "I do. It's perfect for us. A small family place with big booths
(booth [bu:р] – киоск, будка, кабина) where people can talk in private. Good food.
Everybody minds their own business. Perfect." He leaned over Sonny's desk and
arranged stubbed-out (stub – пень; обломок; окурок; to stub out – погасить /окурок/)
cigarettes into map figures. "This is the entrance. Mike, when you finish just walk out
and turn left, then turn the corner. I'll spot you and put on my headlights and catch you
on the fly. If you have any trouble, yell and I'll try to come in and get you out. Clemenza,
you gotta work fast. Send somebody up there to plant (сажать /растение/; размещать)
the gun. They got an old-fashioned toilet with a space between the water container and
the wall. Have your man tape the gun behind there. Mike, after they frisk you in the car
and find you're clean, they won't be too worried about you. In the restaurant, wait a bit
before you excuse yourself. No, better still, ask permission to go. Act a little in trouble
first, very natural. They can't figure anything. But when you come out again, don't waste
any time. Don't sit down again at the table, start blasting. And don't take chances. In the
head, two shots apiece, and out as fast as your legs can travel."
270
Sonny had been listening judiciously. "I want somebody very good, very safe, to plant
that gun," he told Clemenza. "I don't want my brother coming out of that toilet with just
his dick (половой член /сленг/) in his hand."
Clemenza said emphatically (с пафосом, с эмфазой, решительно, категорически
[ım'fжtık∂lı]), "The gun will be there."
"OK," Sonny said. "Everybody get rolling."
Tessio and Clemenza left. Tom Hagen said, "Sonny, should I drive Mike down to New
York?"
"No," Sonny said. "I want you here. When Mike finishes, then our work begins and I'll
need you. Have you got those newspaper guys lined up?"
Hagen nodded. "I'll be feeding them info as soon as things break."
Sonny got up and came to stand in front of Michael. He shook his hand. "OK, kid," he
said, "you're on. I'll square it with Mom your not seeing her before you left. And I'll get a
message to your girl friend when I think the time is right. OK?"
"OK," Mike said. "How long do you think before I can come back?"
"At least a year," Sonny said.
Tom Hagen put in, "The Don might be able to work faster than that, Mike, but don't
count on it. The time element hinges (hinge – петля /дверная/; to hinge – крепиться;
зависеть от чего-либо) on a lot of factors. How well we can plant stories with the
newsmen. How much the Police Department wants to cover up. How violently the other
Families react. There's going to be a hell of a lot of heat and trouble. That's the only
thing we can be sure of."
Michael shook Hagen's hand. "Do your best," he said. "I don't want to do another
three-year stretch away from home."
Hagen said gently, "It's not too late to back out, Mike, we can get somebody else, we
can go back over our alternatives. Maybe it's not necessary to get rid of Sollozzo."
Michael laughed. "We can talk ourselves into any view-point," he said. "But we figured
it right the first time. I've been riding the gravy train (gravy train – легкая нажива,
выгодное предприятие; gravy – подливка; легкая нажива, незаконные доходы
/сленг/) all my life, it's about time I paid my dues (пора платить по счету, за проезд)."
"You shouldn't let that broken jaw influence you," Hagen said. "McCluskey is a stupid
man and it was business, not personal."
For the second time he saw Michael Corleone's face freeze into a mask that
resembled uncannily (жутко, зловеще) the Don's. "Tom, don't let anybody kid you. It's
all personal, every bit of business. Every piece of shit every man has to eat every day of
271
his life is personal. They call it business. OK. But it's personal as hell. You know where I
learned that from? The Don. My old man. The Godfather. If a bolt (молния) of lightning
hit a friend of his the old man would take it personal. He took my going into the Marines
personal. That's what makes him great. The Great Don. He takes everything personal.
Like God. He knows every feather that falls from the tail of a sparrow (воробей) or
however the hell it goes. Right? And you know something? Accidents don't happen to
people who take accidents as a personal insult. So I came late, OK, but I'm coming all
the way. Damn right, I take that broken jaw personal; damn right, I take Sollozzo trying
to kill my father personal." He laughed. "Tell the old man I learned it all from him and
that I'm glad I had this chance to pay him back for all he did for me. He was a good
father." He paused and then he said thoughtfully to Hagen, "You know, I can never
remember him hitting me. Or Sonny. Or Freddie. And of course Connie, he wouldn't
even yell at her. And tell me the truth, Tom, how many men do you figure the Don killed
or had killed."
Tom Hagen turned away. "I'll tell you one thing you didn't learn from him: talking the
way you're talking now. There are things that have to be done and you do them and you
never talk about them. You don't try to justify them. They can't be justified. You just do
them. Then you forget it."
Michael Corleone frowned. He said quietly, "As the Consigliori, you agree that it's
dangerous to the Don and our Family to let Sollozzo live?"
"Yes," Hagen said.
"OK," Michael said. "Then I have to kill him."
Michael Corleone stood in front of Jack Dempsey's restaurant on Broadway and
waited for his pickup. He looked at his watch. It said five minutes to eight. Sollozzo was
going to be punctual. Michael had made sure he was there in plenty of time. He had
been waiting fifteen minutes.
All during the ride from Long Beach into the city he had been trying to forget what he
had said to Hagen. For if he believed what he said, then his life was set on an
irrevocable (неотменяемый, бесповоротный [ı’rev∂k∂bl]) course. And yet, could it be
otherwise after tonight? He might be dead after tonight if he didn't stop all this crap,
Michael thought grimly. He had to keep his mind on the business at hand. Sollozzo was
no dummy (дурик) and McCluskey was a very tough egg. He felt the ache in his wired
jaw and welcomed the pain, it would keep him alert.
Broadway wasn't that crowded on this cold winter night, even though it was near
272
theater time. Michael flinched as a long black car pulled up to the curb and the driver,
leaning over, opened the front door and said, "Get in, Mike." He didn't know the driver, a
young punk with slick black hair and an open shirt, but he got in. In the back seat were
Captain McCluskey and Sollozzo.
Sollozzo reached a hand over the back of the seat and Michael shook it. The hand
was firm, warm and dry. Sollozzo said, "I'm glad you came, Mike. I hope we can
straighten everything out. AIl this is terrible, it's not the way I wanted things to happen at
all. It should never have happened."
Michael Corleone said quietly, "I hope we can settle things tonight, I don't want my
father bothered any more."
"He won't be," Sollozzo said sincerely. "I swear to you by my children he won't be.
Just keep an open mind when we talk. I hope you're not a hothead like your brother
Sonny. It's impossible to talk business with him."
Captain McCluskey grunted. "He's a good kid, he's all right." He leaned over to give
Michael an affectionate pat (похлопывание) on the shoulder. "I'm sorry about the other
night, Mike. I'm getting too old for my job, too grouchy (ворчливый, здесь: легко
срываюсь). I guess I'll have to retire pretty soon. Can't stand the aggravation
(ухудшение состояния; здесь: досада, раздражение), all day I get aggravation. You
know how it is." Then with a doleful (скорбный, страдальческий) sigh, he gave Michael
a thorough frisk for a weapon.
Michael saw a slight smile on the driver's lips. The car was going west with no
apparent attempt to elude any trailers (избежать фургонов, прицепов [ı'lu:d]). It went
up on to the West Side Highway, speeding in and out of traffic. Anyone following would
have had to do the same. Then to Michael's dismay (испуг, смятение [dıs’mei]) it took
the exit for the George Washington Bridge, they were going over to New Jersey.
Whoever had given Sonny the info on where the meeting was to be held had given him
the wrong dope.
The car threaded (машина пробралась, проскользнула; thread [θred] – нить)
through the bridge approaches (подступы, подходы) and then was on it, leaving the
blazing (to blaze – сверкать, сиять, блистать) city behind. Michael kept his face
impassive. Were they going to dump (выгрузить, вывалить; избавиться, бросить) him
into the swamps or was it just a last-minute change in meeting place by the wily
Sollozzo? But when they were nearly all the way across, the driver gave the wheel a
violent twist. The heavy automobile jumped into the air when it hit the divider and
273
bounced over into the lanes going back to New York City. Both McCluskey and Sollozzo
were looking back to see if anyone had tried doing the same thing. The driver was really
hitting it back to New York and then they were off the bridge and going toward the East
Bronx. They went through the side streets with no cars behind them. By this time it was
nearly nine o'clock. They had made sure there was no one on their tail. Sollozzo lit up a
cigarette after offering his pack to McCluskey and Michael, both of whom refused.
Sollozzo said to the driver, "Nice work. I'll remember it."
Ten minutes later the car pulled up in front of a restaurant in a small Italian
neighborhood. There was no one on the streets and because of the lateness of the hour
only a few people were still at dinner. Michael had been worried that the driver would
come in with them, but he stayed outside with his car. The negotiator had not mentioned
a driver, nobody had. Technically Sollozzo had broken the agreement by bringing him
along. But Michael decided not to mention it, knowing they would think he would be
afraid to mention it, afraid of ruining the chances for the success of the parley (разговор,
переговоры [pα:lı].
The three of them sat at the only round table, Sollozzo refusing a booth. There were
only two other people in the restaurant. Michael wondered whether they were Sollozzo
plants (‘подсадные утки’; to plant – сажать /растение/). But it didn't matter. Before
they could interfere it would be all over.
McCluskey asked with real interest, "Is the Italian food good here?"
Sollozzo reassured him. "Try the veal (телятина), it's the finest in New York." The
solitary waiter had brought a bottle of wine to the table and uncorked it (вынул пробку:
cork). He poured three glasses full. Surprisingly McCluskey did not drink. "I must be the
only Irishman who don't take the booze (алкоголь, выпивка /сленг/)," he said. "I seen
too many good people get in trouble because of the booze."
Sollozzo said placatingly (to placate – умиротворять, унимать, успокаивать) to the
captain, "I am going to talk Italian to Mike, not because I don't trust you but because I
can't explain myself properly in English and I want to convince Mike that I mean well,
that it's to everybody's advantage for us to come to an agreement (соглашение) tonight.
Don't be insulted by this, it's not that I don't trust you."
Captain McCluskey gave them both an ironic grin.
"Sure, you two go right ahead," he said. "I'll concentrate on my veal and spaghetti."
Sollozzo began speaking to Michael in rapid (быстрый, беглый) Sicilian. He said,
"You must understand that what happened between me and your father was strictly a
business matter. I have a great respect for Don Corleone and would beg for the
opportunity to enter his service. But you must understand that your father is an old-
274
fashioned man. He stands in the way of progress. The business I am in is the coming
thing, the wave of the future, there are untold millions of dollars for everyone to make.
But your father stands in the way because of certain unrealistic scruples (сомнения,
угрызения совести). By doing this he imposes his will on men like myself. Yes, yes, I
know, he says to me, 'Go ahead, it's your business,' but we both know that is unrealistic.
We must tread on each other's corns (будем наступать друг другу на мозоль; corn –
зерно; мозоль). What he is really telling me is that I cannot operate my business. I am
a man who respects himself and cannot let another man impose his will on me so what
had to happen did happen. Let me say that I had the support, the silent support of all
the New York Families. And the Tattaglia Family became my partners. If this quarrel
(ссора, раздор [‘kwor∂l]) continues, then the Corleone Family will stand alone against
everyone. Perhaps if your father were well, it could be done. But the eldest son is not
the man the Godfather is, no disrespect intended (без обиды будет сказано: «никакое
неуважение не входит в намерение»). And the Irish Consigliori, Hagen, is not the
man Genco Abbandando was, God rest his soul (упокой его душу). So I propose a
peace, a truce (перемирие). Let us cease all hostilities (прекратить враждебные
действия) until your father is well again and can take part in these bargainings. The
Tattaglia Family agrees, upon my persuasions and my indemnities (indemnity –
гарантия от убытков; возмещение), to forgo (отказаться, воздержаться) justice for
their son Bruno. We will have peace. Meanwhile, I have to make a living and will do a
little trading in my business. I do not ask your cooperation but I ask you, the Corleone
Family, not to interfere. These are my proposals. I assume (предполагаю) you have the
authority to agree, to make a deal."
Michael said in Sicilian, "Tell me more about how you propose to start your business,
exactly what part my Family has to play in it and what profit we can take from this
business."
"You want the whole proposition in detail then?" Sollozzo asked.
Michael said gravely, "Most important of all I must have sure guarantees that no more
attempts will be made on my father's life."
Sollozzo raised his hand expressively. "What guarantees can I give you? I'm the
hunted one. I've missed my chance. You think too highly of me, my friend. I am not that
clever."
Michael was sure now that the conference was only to gain a few days' time. That
Sollozzo would make another attempt to kill the Don. What was beautiful was that the
275
Turk was underrating him as a punk kid. Michael felt that strange delicious chill filling his
body. He made his face look distressed. Sollozzo asked sharply, "What is it?"
Michael said with an embarrassed air, "The wine went right to my bladder (мочевой
пузырь). I've been holding it in. Is it all right if I go to the bathroom?"
Sollozzo was searching his face intently with his dark eyes. He reached over and
roughly thrust his hand in Michael's crotch, under it and around, searching for a weapon.
Michael looked offended. McCluskey said curtly, "I frisked him. I've frisked thousands of
young punks. He's clean."
Sollozzo didn't like it. For no reason at all he didn't like it. He glanced at the man
sitting at a table opposite them and raised his eyebrows toward the door of the
bathroom. The man gave a slight nod that he had checked it, that there was nobody
inside. Sollozzo said reluctantly (неохотно), "Don't take too long." He had marvelous
antenna, he was nervous.
Michael got up and went into the bathroom. The urinal had a pink bar of soap in it
secured by a wire net. He went into the booth. He really had to go, his bowels
(кишечник) were loose (свободный, непривязанный; несдерживаемый). He did it
very quickly, then reached behind the enamel (эмалированный [ı’nжm∂l]) water
cabinet until his hand touched the small, blunt-nosed (blunt – тупой) gun fastened with
tape. He ripped the gun loose, remembering that Clemenza had said not to worry about
leaving prints on the tape. He shoved the gun into his waistband (пояс) and buttoned
his jacket over it. He washed his hands and wet his hair. He wiped his prints off the
faucet (вентиль, втулка; водопроводный кран [fo:sıt]) with his handkerchief. Then he
left the toilet.
Sollozzo was sitting directly facing the door of the toilet, his dark eyes blazing with
alertness. Michael gave a smile. "Now I can talk," he said with a sigh of relief.
Captain McCluskey was eating the plate of veal and spaghetti that had arrived. The
man on the far wall had been stiff with attention, now he too relaxed visibly.
Michael sat down again. He remembered Clemenza had told him not to do this, to
come out of the toilet and blaze away. But either out of some warning instinct or sheer
funk (или просто от испуга, со страха; funk – сильный запах, зловоние) he had not
done so. He had felt that if he had made one swift move he would have been cut down.
Now he felt safe and he must have been scared because he was glad he was no longer
standing on his legs. They had gone weak with trembling.
Sollozzo was leaning toward him. Michael, his belly covered by the table, unbuttoned
his jacket and listened intently. He could not understand a word the man was saying. It
276
was literally gibberish (невнятная речь, тарабарщина [‘gıb∂rı∫]) to him. His mind was
so filled with pounding (to pound – бить/ся/, колотить/ся/) blood that no word
registered. Underneath the table his right hand moved to the gun tucked into his
waistband and he drew it free. At that moment the waiter came to take their order and
Sollozzo turned his head to speak to the waiter. Michael thrust the table away from him
with his left hand and his right hand shoved the gun almost against Sollozzo's head.
The man's coordination was so acute ([∂‘kju:t] остроконечный, острый; сильный,
резкий) that he had already begun to fling himself away at Michael's motion. But
Michael, younger, his reflexes sharper, pulled the trigger. The bullet caught Sollozzo
squarely between his eye and his ear and when it exited on the other side blasted out a
huge gout (брызги, поток) of blood and skull fragments onto the petrified
(остолбеневший; to petrify [‘petrıfaı] – превращать/ся/ в камень, окаменевать)
waiter's jacket. Instinctively Michael knew that one bullet was enough. Sollozzo had
turned his head in that last moment and he had seen the light of life die in the man's
eyes as clearly as a candle goes out.
Only one second had gone by as Michael pivoted to bring the gun to bear on
McCluskey. The police captain was staring at Sollozzo with phlegmatic surprise, as if
this had nothing to do with him. He did not seem to be aware of his own danger. His
veal-covered fork was suspended («подвешенная» = застывшая в воздухе) in his
hand and his eyes were just turning on Michael. And the expression on his face, in his
eyes, held such confident outrage (такое самоуверенное возмущение), as if now he
expected Michael to surrender or to run away, that Michael smiled at him as he pulled
the trigger. This shot was bad, not mortal (смертельный). It caught McCluskey in his
thick bull-like throat and he started to choke loudly as if he had swallowed too large a
bite of the veal. Then the air seemed to fill with a fine mist of sprayed blood as he
coughed it out of his shattered lungs (легкие). Very coolly, very deliberately, Michael
fired the next shot through the top of his white-haired skull.
The air seemed to be full of pink mist (розовая дымка). Michael swung toward the
man sitting against the wall. This man had not made a move. He seemed paralyzed.
Now he carefully showed his hands on top of the table and looked away. The waiter
was staggering back toward the kitchen, an expression of horror on his face, staring at
Michael in disbelief. Sollozzo was still in his chair, the side of his body propped up (to
prop – подпирать) by the table. McCluskey, his heavy body pulling downward, had
fallen off his chair onto the floor. Michael let the gun slip out of his hand so that it
bounced off (отскочил от; bounce – бумс! бух!) his body and made no noise. He saw
277
that neither the man against the wall nor the waiter had noticed him dropping the gun.
He strode the few steps toward the door and opened it. Sollozzo's car was parked at the
curb still, but there was no sign of the driver. Michael turned left and around the corner.
Headlights flashed on and a battered sedan pulled up to him, the door swinging open.
He jumped in and the car roared away. He saw that it was Tessio at the wheel, his trim
features hard as marble.
"Did you do the job on Sollozzo?" Tessio asked.
For that moment Michael was struck by the idiom Tessio had used. It was always
used in a sexual sense, to do the job on a woman meant seducing (to seduce [sı’dju:s]
– соблазнять) her. It was curious that Tessio used it now. "Both of them," Michael said.
"Sure?" Tessio asked.
"I saw their brains," Michael said.
There was a change of clothes for Michael in the car. Twenty minutes later he was on
an Italian freighter slated (to slate – намечать, планировать) for Sicily. Two hours later
the freighter put out to sea and from his cabin Michael could see the lights of New York
City burning like the fires of hell. He felt an enormous sense of relief. He was out of it
now. The feeling was familiar and he remembered being taken off the beach of an
island his Marine division had invaded (to invade – захватывать, вторгаться,
оккупировать). The battle had been still going on but he had received a slight wound
and was being ferried back (ferry – паром) to a hospital ship. He had felt the same
overpowering relief then that he felt now. All hell would break loose (разразится) but he
wouldn't be there.
On the day after the murder of Sollozzo and Captain McCluskey, the police captains
and lieutenants in every station house in New York City sent out the word: there would
be no more gambling, no more prostitution, no more deals of any kind until the murderer
of Captain McCluskey was caught. Massive raids began all over the city. All unlawful
business activities came to a standstill (полностью остановились; standstill –
остановка, пауза).
Later that day an emissary from the Families asked the Corleone Family if they were
prepared to give up the murderer. They were told that the affair did not concern them.
That night a bomb exploded in the Corleone Family mall in Long Beach, thrown from a
car that pulled up to the chain, then roared away. That night also two button men of the
Corleone Family were killed as they peaceably ate their dinner in a small Italian
restaurant in Greenwich Village. The Five Families War of 1946 had begun.
Приложение
Эрнест Хэмингуэй
Киллеры
МетодчтенияИльиФранка
Ernest Hemingway
The Killers
278
The door of Henry’s lunch-room opened (дверь закусочной Генри отворилась) and
two men came in (и двое мужчин вошли /внутрь/). They sat down at the counter (они
сели у стойки).
“What’s yours (что для вас, что будете брать: «что ваше»)?” George asked them
(спросил их).
“I don’t know (я не знаю),” one of the men said (сказал один из мужчин). “What do you
want to eat (что ты хочешь съесть), Al?”
“I don’t know,” said All. “I don’t know what I want to eat.”
Outside it was getting dark (на улице: «снаружи» темнело: «становилось темно»).
The street-light came on outside the window (уличный фонарь зажегся за окном; light
– свет; to come on – появиться /на сцене/, возникнуть). The two men at the
counter read the menu (читали меню). From the other end of the counter (с другого
конца стойки) Nick Adams watched them (глядел на них). He had been talking to
George (он разговаривал с Джорджем) when they came in (когда они вошли).
Дата добавления: 2018-10-26; просмотров: 134; Мы поможем в написании вашей работы! |
Мы поможем в написании ваших работ!