mp.godfather-第15章

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　Michael　laughed。　〃I'm　going　to　be　a　mathematics　professor；〃　he　said。　Then　he　asked；　〃Do　you　want　something　to　eat　before　we　go　to　the　hotel？〃
　
　Kay　shook　her　head。　She　looked　up　at　him　meaningfully。　As　always　he　was　touched　by　her　eagerness　to　make　love。　He　smiled　down　at　her；　and　they　kissed　in　the　cold　street。　Michael　felt　hungry；　and　he　decided　to　order　sandwiches　sent　up　to　the　room。
　
　In　the　hotel　lobby　Michael　pushed　Kay　toward　the　newsstand　and　said；　〃Get　the　papers　while　I　get　the　key。〃　He　had　to　wait　in　a　small　line；　the　hotel　was　still　short　of　help　despite　the　end　of　the　war。　Michael　got　his　room　key　and　looked　around　impatiently　for　Kay。　She　was　standing　by　the　newsstand；　staring　down　at　a　newspaper　she　held　in　her　hand。　He　walked　toward　her。　She　looked　up　at　him。　Her　eyes　were　filled　with　tears。　〃Oh；　Mike；〃　she　said；　〃oh；　Mike。〃　He　took　the　paper　from　her　hands。　The　first　thing　he　saw　was　a　photo　of　his　father　lying　in　the　street；　his　head　in　a　pool　of　blood。　A　man　was　sitting　on　the　curb　weeping　like　a　child。　It　was　his　brother　Freddie。　Michael　Corleone　felt　his　body　turning　to　ice。　There　was　no　grief；　no　fear；　just　cold　rage。　He　said　to　Kay；　〃Go　up　to　the　room。〃　But　he　had　to　take　her　by　the　arm　and　lead　her　into　the　elevator。　They　rode　up　together　in　silence。　In　their　room；　Michael　sat　down　on　the　bed　and　opened　the　paper。　The　headlines　said；　VITO　CORLEONE　SHOT。　ALLEGED　RACKET　CHIEF　CRITICALLY　WOUNDED。　OPERATED　ON　UNDER　HEAVY　POLICE　GUARD。　BLOODY　MOB　WAR　FEARED。
　
　Michael　felt　the　weakness　in　his　legs。　He　said　to　Kay；　〃He's　not　dead；　the　bastards　didn't　kill　him。〃　He　read　the　story　again。　His　father　had　been　shot　at　five　in　the　afternoon。　That　meant　that　while　he　had　been　making　love　to　Kay；　having　dinner；　enjoying　the　theater；　his　father　was　near　death。　Michael　felt　sick　with　guilt。
　
　Kay　said；　〃Shall　we　go　down　to　the　hospital　now？〃
　
　Michael　shook　his　head。　〃Let　me　call　the　house　first。　The　people　who　did　this　are　crazy　and　now　that　the　old　man's　still　alive　they'll　be　desperate。　Who　the　hell　knows　what　they'll　pull　next。〃
　
　Both　phones　in　the　Long　Beach　house　were　busy　and　it　was　almost　twenty　minutes　before　Michael　could　get　through。　He　heard　Sonny's　voice　saying；　〃Yeah。〃
　
　〃Sonny；　it's　me；〃　Michael　said。
　
　He　could　hear　the　relief　in　Sonny's　voice。　〃Jesus；　kid；　you　had　us　worried。　Where　the　hell　are　you？　I've　sent　people　to　that　hick　town　of　yours　to　see　what　happened。〃
　
　〃How's　the　old　man？〃　Michael　said。　〃How　bad　is　he　hurt？〃
　
　〃Pretty　bad；〃　Sonny　said。　〃They　shot　him　five　times。　But　he's　tough。〃　Sonny's　voice　was　proud。　〃The　doctors　said　he'll　pull　through。　Listen；　kid；　I'm　busy；　I　can't　talk；　where　are　you？〃
　
　〃In　New　York；〃　Michael　said。　〃Didn't　Tom　tell　you　I　was　ing　down？〃
　
　Sonny's　voice　dropped　a　little。　〃They've　snatched　Tom。　That's　why　I　was　worried　about　you。　His　wife　is　here。　She　don't　know　and　neither　do　the　cops。　I　don't　want　them　to　know。　The　bastards　who　pulled　this　must　be　crazy。　I　want　you　to　get　out　here　right　away　and　keep　your　mouth　shut。　OK？〃
　
　〃OK；〃　Mike　said；　〃do　you　know　who　did　it？〃
　
　〃Sure；〃　Sonny　said。　〃And　as　soon　as　Luca　Brasi　checks　in　they're　gonna　be　dead　meat。　We　still　have　all　the　horses。〃
　
　〃I'll　be　out　in　a　hour；〃　Mike　said。　〃In　a　cab。〃　He　hung　up。　The　papers　had　been　on　the　streets　for　over　three　hours。　There　must　have　been　radio　news　reports。　It　was　almost　impossible　that　Luca　hadn't　heard　the　news。　Thoughtfully　Michael　pondered　the　question。　Where　was　Luca　Brasi？　It　was　the　same　question　that　Hagen　was　asking　himself　at　that　moment。　It　was　the　same　question　that　was　worrying　Sonny　Corleone　out　in　Long　Beach。
　
　**********
　
　At　a　quarter　to　five　that　afternoon；　Don　Corleone　had　finished　checking　the　papers　the　office　manager　of　his　olive　oil　pany　had　prepared　for　him。　He　put　on　his　jacket　and　rapped　his　knuckles　on　his　son　Freddie's　head　to　make　him　take　his　nose　out　of　the　afternoon　newspaper。　〃Tell　Gatto　to　get　the　car　from　the　lot；〃　he　said。　〃I'll　be　ready　to　go　home　in　a　few　minutes。〃
　
　Freddie　grunted。　〃I'll　have　to　get　it　myself。　Paulie　called　in　sick　this　morning。　Got　a　cold　again。〃
　
　Don　Corleone　looked　thoughtful　for　a　moment。　〃That's　the　third　time　this　month。　I　think　maybe　you'd　better　get　a　healthier　fellow　for　this　job。　Tell　Tom。〃
　
　Fred　protested。　〃Paulie's　a　good　kid。　If　he　says　he's　sick；　he's　sick。　I　don't　mind　getting　the　car。〃　He　left　the　office。　Don　Corleone　watched　out　the　window　as　his　son　crossed　Ninth　Avenue　to　the　parking　lot。　He　stopped　to　call　Hagen's　office　but　there　was　no　answer。　He　called　the　house　at　Long　Beach　but　again　there　was　no　answer。　Irritated；　he　looked　out　the　window。　His　car　was　parked　at　the　curb　in　front　of　his　building。　Freddie　was　leaning　against　the　fender；　arms　folded；　watching　the　throng　of　Christmas　shoppers。　Don　Corleone　put　on　his　jacket。　The　office　manager　helped　him　with　his　overcoat。　Don　Corleone　grunted　his　thanks　and　went　out　the　door　and　started　down　the　two　flights　of　steps。
　
　Out　in　the　street　the　early　winter　light　was　failing。　Freddie　leaned　casually　against　the　fender　of　the　heavy　Buick。　When　he　saw　his　father　e　out　of　the　building　Freddie　went　out　into　the　street　to　the　driver's　side　of　the　car　and　got　in。　Don　Corleone　was　about　to　get　in　on　the　sidewalk　side　of　the　car　when　he　hesitated　and　then　turned　back　to　the　long　open　fruit　stand　near　the　corner。　This　had　been　his　habit　lately；　he　loved　the　big　out…of…season　fruits；　yellow　peaches　and　oranges；　that　glowed　in　their　green　boxes。　The　proprietor　sprang　to　serve　him。　Don　Corleone　did　not　handle　the　fruit。　He　pointed。　The　fruit　man　disputed　his　decisions　only　once；　to　show　him　that　one　of　his　choices　had　a　rotten　underside。　Don　Corleone　took　the　paper　bag　in　his　left　hand　and　paid　the　man　with　a　five…dollar　bill。　He　took　his　change　and；　as　he　turned　to　go　back　to　the　waiting　car；　two　men　stepped　from　around　the　corner。　Don　Corleone　knew　immediately　what　was　to　happen。
　
　The　two　men　wore　black　overcoats　and　black　hats　pulled　low　to　prevent　identification　by　witnesses。　They　had　not　expected　Don　Corleone's　alert　reaction。　He　dropped　the　bag　of　fruit　and　darted　toward　the　parked　car　with　startling　quickness　for　a　man　of　his　bulk。　At　the　same　time　he　shouted；　〃Fredo；　Fredo。〃　It　was　only　then　that　the　two　men　drew　their　guns　and　fired。
　
　The　first　bullet　caught　Don　Corleone　in　the　back。　He　felt　the　hammer　shock　of　its　impact　but　made　his　body　move　toward　the　car。　The　next　two　bullets　hit　him　in　the　buttocks　and　sent　him　sprawling　in　the　middle　of　the　street。　Meanwhile　the　two　gunmen；　careful　not　to　slip　on　the　rolling　fruit；　started　to　follow　in　order　to　finish　him　off。　At　that　moment；　perhaps　no　more　than　five　seconds　after　the　Don's　call　to　his　son；　Frederico　Corleone　appeared　out　of　his　car；　looming　over　it。　The　gunmen　fired　two　more　hasty　shots　at　the　Don　lying　in　the　gutter。　One　hit　him　in　the　fleshy　part　of　his　arm　and　the　second　hit　him　in　the　calf　of　his　right　leg。　Though　these　wounds　were　the　least　serious　they　bled　profusely；　forming　small　pools　of　blood　beside　his　body。　But　by　this　time　Don　Corleone　had　lost　consciousness。
　
　Freddie　had　heard　his　father　shout；　calling　him　by　his　childhood　name；　and　then　he　had　heard　the　first　two　loud　reports。　By　the　time　he　got　out　of　the　car　he　was　in　shock；　he　had　not　even　drawn　his　gun。　The　two　assassins　could　easily　have　shot　him　down。　But　they　too　panicked。　They　must　have　known　the　son　was　armed；　and　besides　too　much　time　had　passed。　They　disappeared　around　the　corner；　leaving　Freddie　alone　in　the　street　with　his　father's　bleeding　body。　Many　of　the　people　thronging　the　avenue　had　flung　themselves　into　doorways　or　on　the　ground；　others　had　huddled　together　in　small　groups。
　
　Freddie　still　had　not　drawn　his　weapon。　He　seemed　stunned。　He　stared　down　at　his　father's　body　lying　face　down　on　the　tarred　street；　lying　now　in　what　seemed　to　him　a　blackish　lake　of　blood。　Freddie　went　into　physical　shock。　People　eddied　out　again　and　someone；　seeing　him　start　to　sag；　led　him　to　the　curbstone　and　made　him　sit　down　on　it。　A　crowd　gathered　around　Don　Corleone's　body；　a　circle　that　shattered　when　the　first　police　car　sirened　a　path　through　them。　Directly　behind　the　police　was　the　Daily　News　radio　car　and　even　before　it　stopped　a　photographer　jumped　out　to　snap　pictures　of　the　bleeding　Don　Corleone。　A　few　moments　later　an　ambulance　arrived。　The　photographer　turned　his　attention　to　Freddie　Corleone；　who　was　now　weeping　openly；　and　this　was　a　curiously　ical　sight；　because　of　his　tough；　Cupid…featured　face；　heavy　nose　and　thick　mouth　smeared　with　snot。　Detectives　were　spreading　through　the　crowd　and　more　police　cars　were　ing　up。　One　detective　knelt　beside　Freddie；　questioning　him；　but　Freddie　was　too　deep　in　shock　to　answer。　The　detective　reached　inside　Freddie's　coat　and　lifted　his　wallet。　He　looked　at　the　identification　inside　and　whistled　to　his　partner。　In　just　a　few　seconds　Freddie　had　been　cut　off　from　the　crowd　by　a　flock　of　plainclothesmen。　The　first　detective　found　Freddie's　gun　in　its　shoulder　holster　and　took　it。　Then　they　lifted　Freddie　off　his　feet　and　shoved　him　into　an　unmarked　car。　As　that　car　pulled　away　it　was　followed　by　the　Daily　News　radio　car。　The　photographer　was　still　snapping　pictures　of　everybody　and　everything。
　
　**********
　
　In　the　half　hour　after　the　shooting　of　his　father；　Sonny　Corleone　received　five　phone　calls　in　rapid　succession。　The　first　was　from　Detective　John　Phillips；　who　was　on　the　family　payroll　and　had　been　in　the　lead　car　of　plainclothesmen　at　the　scene　of　the　shooting。　The　first　thing　he　said　to　Sonny　over　the　phone　was；　〃Do　you　recognize　my　voice？〃
　
　〃Yeah；〃　Sonny　said。　He　was　fresh　from　a　nap；　called　to　the　phone　by　his　wife。
　
　Phillips　said　quickly　without　preamble；　〃Somebody　shot　your　father　outside　his　place。　Fifteen　minutes　ago。　He's　alive　but　hurt　bad。　They've　taken　him　to　French　Hospital。　They　got　your　brother　Freddie　down　at　the　Chelsea　precinct。　You　better　get　him　a　doctor　when　they　turn　him　loose。　I'm　going　down　to　the　hospital　now　to　help　question　your　old　man；　if　he　can　talk。　I'll　keep　you　posted。〃
　
　Across　the　table；　Sonny's　wife　Sandra　noticed　that　her　husband's　face　had　gone　red　with　flushing　blood。　His　eyes　were　glazed　over。　She　whispered；　〃What's　the　matter？〃　He　waved　at　her　impatiently　to　shut　up；　swung　his　body　away　so　that　his　back　was　toward　her　and　said　into　the　phone；　〃You　sure　he's　alive？〃
　
　〃Yeah；　I'm　sure；〃　the　detective　said。　〃A　lot　of　blood　but　I　think　maybe　he's　not　as　bad　as　he　looks。〃
　
　〃Thanks；〃　Sonny　said。　〃Be　home　tomorrow　morning　eight　sharp。　You　got　a　grand　ing。〃
　
　Sonny　cradled　the　phone。　He　forced　himself　to　sit　still。　He　knew　that　his　greatest　weakness　was　his　anger　and　this　was　one　time　when　anger　could　be　fatal。　The　first　thing　to　do　was　get　Tom　Hagen。　But　before　he　could　pick　up　the　phone；　it　rang。　The　call　was　from　the　bookmaker　licensed　by　the　Family　to　operate　in　the　district　of　the　Don's　office。　The　bookmaker　had　called　to　tell　him　that　the　Don　had　been　killed；　shot　dead　in　the　street。　After　a　few　questions　to　make　sure　that　the　bookmaker's　informant　had　not　been　close　to　the　body；　Sonny　di