Читать интересную книгу Английский язык с Крестным Отцом - Илья Франк

was just the faint shadow of doubt in his voice.

Michael smiled and said, "You won't lose money on the deal and neither will your

friends. You get points in the hotel, and if there's somebody else you think important

enough, they get some points too. Maybe you don't believe me, so let me say I'm

speaking the Don's words."

Johnny said hurriedly, "I believe you, Mike. But there's ten more hotels and casinos

being built on the Strip right now. When you come in, the market may be glutted, you

may be too late with all that competition already there."

Tom Hagen spoke up. "The Corleone Family has friends who are financing three of

those hotels." Johnny understood immediately that he meant the Corleone Family

owned the three hotels, with their casinos. And that there would be plenty of points to

give out.

"I'll start working on it," Johnny said.

Michael turned to Lucy and Jules Segal. "I owe you," he said to Jules. "I hear you

want to go back to cutting people up and that hospitals won't let you use their facilities

because of that old abortion business. I have to know from you, is that what you want?"

Jules smiled. "I guess so. But you don't know the medical setup. Whatever power you

have doesn't mean anything to them. I'm afraid you can't help me in that."

Michael nodded absentmindedly. "Sure, you're right. But some friends of mine, pretty

well-known people, are going to build a big hospital for Las Vegas. The town will need it

the way it's growing and the way it's projected to grow. Maybe they'll let you into the

operating room if it's put to them right. Hell, how many surgeons as good as you can

they get to come out to this desert? Or any half as good? We'll be doing the hospital a

favor. So stick around. I hear you and Lucy are going to get married?"

Jules shrugged. "When I see that I have any future."

Lucy said wryly, "Mike, if you don't build that hospital, I'll die an old maid."

They all laughed. All except Jules. He said to Michael, "If I took a job like that there

couldn't be any strings attached."

Michael said coldly, "No strings. I just owe you and I want to even out."

Lucy said gently, "Mike, don't get sore."

Michael smiled at her. "I'm not sore." He turned to Jules. "That was a dumb thing for

you to say. The Corleone Family has pulled some strings for you. Do you think I'm so

stupid I'd ask you to do things you'd hate to do? But if I did, so what? Who the hell else

ever lifted a finger to help you when you were in trouble? When I heard you wanted to

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get back to being a real surgeon, I took a lot of time to find out if I could help. I can. I'm

not asking you for anything. But at least you can consider our relationship friendly, and I

assume you would do for me what you'd do for any good friend. That's my string. But

you can refuse it."

Tom Hagen lowered his head and smiled. Not even the Don himself could have done

it any better.

Jules was flushing. "Mike, I didn't mean it that way at all. I'm very grateful to you and

your father. Forget I said it."

Michael nodded and said, "Fine. Until the hospital gets built and opens up you'll be

medical director for the four hotels. Get yourself a staff. Your money goes up too, but

you can discuss that with Tom at a later time. And Lucy, I want you to do something

more important. Maybe coordinate all the shops that will be opening up in the hotel

arcades. On the financial side. Or maybe hiring the girls we need to work in the casinos,

something like that. So if Jules doesn't marry you, you can be a rich old maid."

Freddie had been puffing on his cigar angrily. Michael turned to him and said gently,

"I'm just the errand boy for the Don, Freddie. What he wants you to do he'll tell you

himself, naturally, but I'm sure it will be something big enough to make you happy.

Everybody tells us what a great job you've been doing here."

"Then why is he sore at me?" Freddie asked plaintively. "Just because the casino has

been losing money? I don't control that end, Moe Greene does. What the hell does the

old man want from me?"

"Don't worry about it," Michael said. He turned to Johnny Fontane. "Where's Nino? I

was looking forward to seeing him again."

Johnny shrugged. "Nino is pretty sick. A nurse is taking care of him in his room. But

the doc here says he should be committed, that he's trying to kill himself. Nino!"

Michael said thoughtfully, really surprised, "Nino was always a real good guy. I never

knew him to do anything lousy, say anything to put anybody down. He never gave a

damn about anything. Except the booze."

"Yeah," Johnny said. "The money is rolling in, he could get a lot of work, singing or in

the movies. He gets fifty grand a picture now and he blows it. He doesn't give a damn

about being famous. All the years we've been buddies I've never known him to do

anything creepy. And the son of a bitch is drinking himself to death."

Jules was about to say something when there was a knock on the door of the suite.

He was surprised when the man in the armchair, the man nearest the door, did not

answer it but kept reading the newspaper. It was Hagen who went to open it. And was

almost brushed aside when Moe Greene came striding into the room followed by his

two bodyguards.

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Moe Greene was a handsome hood who had made his rep as a Murder Incorporated

executioner in Brooklyn. He had branched out into gambling and gone west to seek his

fortune, had been the first person to see the possibilities of Las Vegas and built one of

the first hotel casinos on the Strip. He still had murderous tantrums and was feared by

everyone in the hotel, not excluding Freddie, Lucy and Jules Segal. They always stayed

out of his way whenever possible.

His handsome face was grim now. He said to Michael Corleone, "I've been waiting

around to talk to you, Mike. I got a lot of things to do tomorrow so I figured I'd catch you

tonight. How about it?"

Michael Corleone looked at him with what seemed to be friendly astonishment.

"Sure," he said. He motioned in Hagen's direction. "Get Mr. Greene a drink, Tom."

Jules noticed that the man called Albert Neri was studying Moe Greene intently, not

paying any attention to the bodyguards who were leaning against the door. He knew

there was no chance of any violence, not in Vegas itself. That was strictly forbidden as

fatal to the whole project of making Vegas the legal sanctuary of American gamblers.

Moe Greene said to his bodyguards, "Draw some chips for all these people so that

they can gamble on the house." He obviously meant Jules, Lucy, Johnny Fontane and

Michael's bodyguard, Albert Neri.

Michael Corleone nodded agreeably. "That's a good idea." It was only then that Neri

got out of his chair and prepared to follow the others out.

After the good-byes were said, there were Freddie, Tom Hagen, Moe Greene and

Michael Corleone left in the room.

Greene put his drink down on the table and said with barely controlled fury, "What's

this I hear the Corleone Family is going to buy me out? I'll buy you out. You don't buy

me out."

Michael said reasonably, "Your casino has been losing money against all the odds.

There's something wrong with the way you operate. Maybe we can do better."

Greene laughed harshly. "You goddamn Dagos, I do you a favor and take Freddie in

when you're having a bad time and now you push me out. That's what you think. I don't

get pushed out by nobody and I got friends that will back me up."

Michael was still quietly reasonable. "You took Freddie in because the Corleone

Family gave you a big chunk of money to finish furnishing your hotel. And bankroll your

casino. And because the Molinari Family on the Coast guaranteed his safety and gave

you some service for taking him in. The Corleone Family and you are evened out. I

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don't know what you're getting sore about. We'll buy your share at any reasonable price

you name, what's wrong with that? What's unfair about that? With your casino losing

money we're doing you a favor."

Greene shook his head. "The Corleone Family don't have that much muscle anymore.

The Godfather is sick. You're getting chased out of New York by the other Families and

you think you can find easier pickings here. I'll give you some advice, Mike, don't try."

Michael said softly, "Is that why, you thought you could slap Freddie around in

public?"

Tom Hagen, startled, turned his attention to Freddie. Freddie Corleone's face was

getting red. "Ah. Mike, that wasn't anything. Moe didn't mean anything. He flies off the

handle sometimes, but me and him are good friends. Right, Moe?"

Greene was wary. "Yeah, sure. Sometimes I got to kick asses to make this place run

right. I got sore at Freddie because he was banging all the cocktail waitresses and

letting them goof off on the job. We had a little argument and I straightened him out."

Michael's face was impassive when he said to his brother, "You straightened out,

Freddie?"

Freddie stared sullenly at his younger brother. He didn't answer. Greene laughed and

said, "The son of a bitch was taking them to bed two at a time, the old sandwich job.

Freddie, I gotta admit you really put it to those broads. Nobody else could make them

happy after you got through with them."

Hagen saw that this had caught Michael by surprise. They looked at each other. This

was perhaps the real reason the Don was displeased with Freddie. The Don was

straitlaced about sex. He would consider such cavorting by his son Freddie, two girls at

a time, as degeneracy. Allowing himself to be physically humiliated by a man like Moe

Greene would decrease respect for the Corleone Family. That too would be part of the

reason for being in his father's bad books.

Michael rising from his chair, said, in a tone of dismissal, "I have to get back to New

York tomorrow, so think about your price."

Greene said savagely, "You son of a bitch, you think you can just brush me off like

that? I killed more men than you before I could jerk off. I'll fly to New York and talk to the

Don himself. I'll make him an offer."

Freddie said nervously to Tom Hagen, "Tom, you're the Consigliori, you can talk to the

Don and advise him."

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It was then that Michael turned the full chilly blast of his personality on the two Vegas

men. "The Don has sort of semiretired," he said. "I'm running the Family business now.

And I've removed Tom from the Consigliori spot. He'll be strictly my lawyer here in

Vegas. He'll be moving out with his family in a couple of months to get all the legal work

started. So anything you have to say, say it to me."

Nobody answered. Michael said formally, "Freddie, you're my older brother, I have

respect for you. But don't ever take sides with anybody against the Family again. I won't

even mention it to the Don." He turned to Moe Greene. "Don't insult people who are

trying to help you. You'd do better to use your energy to find out why the casino is losing

money. The Corleone Family has big dough invested here and we're not getting our

money's worth, but I still didn't come here and abuse you. I offer a helping hand. Well, if

you prefer to spit on that helping hand, that's your business. I can't say any more."

He had not once raised his voice but his words had a sobering effect on both Greene

and Freddie. Michael stared at both of them, moving away from the table to indicate that

he expected them both to leave. Hagen went to the door and opened it. Both men left

without saying good night.

The next morning Michael Corleone got the message from Moe Greene: he would not

sell his share of the hotel at any price. It was Freddie who delivered the message.

Michael shrugged and said to his brother, "I want to see Nino before I go back to New

York."

In Nino's suite they found Johnny Fontane sitting on the couch eating breakfast. Jules

was examining Nino behind the closed drapes of the bedroom. Finally the drapes were

drawn back.

Michael was shocked at how Nino looked. The man was visibly disintegrating. The

eyes were dazed, the mouth loose, all the muscles of his face slack. Michael sat on his

bedside and said, "Nino, it's good to catch up with you. The Don always asks about

you."

Nino grinned, it was the old grin. "Tell him I'm dying. Tell him show business is more

dangerous than the olive oil business."

"You'll be OK," Michael said. "If there's anything bothering you that the Family can

help, just tell me."

Nino shook his head. "There's nothing," he said. "Nothing."

Michael chatted for a few more moments and then left. Freddie accompanied him and

his party to the airport, but at Michael's request didn't hang around for departure time.

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As he boarded the plane with Tom Hagen and Al Neri, Michael turned to Neri and said,

"Did you make him good?"

Neri tapped his forehead. "I got Moe Greene mugged and numbered up here."

Chapter 28

On the plane ride back to New York, Michael Corleone relaxed and tried to sleep. It

was useless. The most terrible period of his life was approaching, perhaps even a fatal

time. It could no longer be put off. Everything was in readiness, all precautions had

been taken, two years of precautions. There could be no further delay. Last week when

the Don had formally announced his retirement to the caporegimes and other members

of the Corleone Family, Michael knew that this was his father's way of telling him the

time was ripe.

It was almost three years now since he had returned home and over two years since

he had married Kay. The three years had been spent in learning the Family business.

He had put in long hours with Tom Hagen, long hours with the Don. He was amazed at

how wealthy and powerful the Corleone Family truly was. It owned tremendously

valuable real estate in midtown New York, whole office buildings. It owned, through

fronts, partnerships in two Wall Street brokerage houses, pieces of banks on Long

Island, partnerships in some garment center firms, all this in addition to its illegal

operations in gambling.

The most interesting thing Michael Corleone learned, in going back over past

transactions of the Corleone Family, was that the Family had received some protection

income shortly after the war from a group of music record counterfeiters. The

counterfeiters duplicated and sold phonograph records of famous artists, packaging