mp.godfather-第19节

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nd　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。
　
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　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　dismissed　the　information　as　incorrect。　Phillips'　dope　would　be　more　accurate。　The　phone　rang　almost　immediately　a　third　time。　It　was　a　reporter　from　the　Daily　News。　As　soon　as　he　identified　himself；　Sonny　Corleone　hung　up。
　
　He　dialed　Hagen's　house　and　asked　Hagen's　wife；　〃Did　Tom　e　home　yet？〃　She　said；　〃No；〃　that　he　was　not　due　for　another　twenty　minutes　but　she　expected　him　home　for　supper。　〃Have　him　call　me；〃　Sonny　said。
　
　He　tried　to　think　things　out。　He　tried　to　imagine　how　his　father　would　react　in　a　like　situation。　He　had　known　immediately　that　this　was　an　attack　by　Sollozzo；　but　Sollozzo　would　never　have　dared　to　eliminate　so　high…ranking　a　leader　as　the　Don　unless　he　was　backed　by　other　powerful　people。　The　phone；　ringing　for　the　fourth　time；　interrupted　his　thoughts。　The　voice　on　the　other　end　was　very　soft；　very　gentle。　〃Santino　Corleone？〃　it　asked。
　
　〃Yeah；〃　Sonny　said。
　
　〃We　have　Tom　Hagen；〃　the　voice　said。　〃In　about　three　hours　he'll　be　released　with　our　proposition。　Don't　do　anything　rash　until　you've　heard　what　he　has　to　say。　You　can　only　cause　a　lot　of　trouble。　What's　done　is　done。　Everybody　has　to　be　sensible　now。　Don't　lose　that　famous　temper　of　yours。〃　The　voice　was　slightly　mocking。　Sonny　couldn't　be　sure；　but　it　sounded　like　Sollozzo。　He　made　his　voice　sound　muted；　depressed。　〃I'll　wait；〃　he　said。　He　heard　the　receiver　on　the　other　end　click。　He　looked　at　his　heavy　gold…banded　wristwatch　and　noted　the　exact　time　of　the　call　and　jotted　it　down　on　the　tablecloth。
　
　He　sat　at　the　kitchen　table；　frowning。　His　wife　asked；　〃Sonny；　what　is　it？〃　He　told　her　calmly；　〃They　shot　the　old　man。〃　When　he　saw　the　shock　on　her　face　he　said　roughly；　〃Don't　worry；　he's　not　dead。　And　nothing　else　is　going　to　happen。〃　He　did　not　tell　her　about　Hagen。　And　then　the　phone　rang　for　the　fifth　time。
　
　It　was　Clemenza。　The　fat　man's　voice　came　wheezing　over　the　phone　in　gruntlike　gasps。　〃You　hear　about　your　father？〃　he　asked。
　
　〃Yeah。〃　Sonny　said。　〃But　he's　not　dead。〃　There　was　a　long　pause　over　the　phone　and　then　Clemenza's　voice　came　packed　with　emotion；　〃Thank　God；　thank　God。〃　Then　anxiously；　〃You　sure？　I　got　word　he　was　dead　in　the　street。〃
　
　〃He's　alive；〃　Sonny　said。　He　was　listening　intently　to　every　intonation　in　Clemenza's　voice。　The　emotion　had　seemed　genuine　but　it　was　part　of　the　fat　man's　profession　to　be　a　good　actor。
　
　〃You'll　have　to　carry　the　ball；　Sonny；〃　Clemenza　said　〃What　do　you　want　me　to　do？〃
　
　〃Get　over　to　my　father's　house；〃　Sonny　said。　〃Bring　Paulie　Gatto。〃
　
　〃That's　all？〃　Clemenza　asked。　〃Don't　you　want　me　to　send　some　people　to　the　hospital　and　your　place？〃
　
　〃No；　I　just　want　you　and　Paulie　Gatto；〃　Sonny　said。　There　was　a　long　pause。　Clemenza　was　getting　the　message。　To　make　it　a　little　more　natural；　Sonny　asked；　〃Where　the　hell　was　Paulie　anyway？　What　the　hell　was　he　doing？〃
　
　There　was　no　longer　any　wheezing　on　the　other　end　of　the　line。　Clemenza's　voice　was　guarded。　〃Paulie　was　sick；　he　had　a　cold；　so　he　stayed　home。　He's　been　a　little　sick　all　winter。〃
　
　Sonny　was　instantly　alert。　〃How　many　times　did　he　stay　home　the　last　couple　of　months？〃
　
　〃Maybe　three　or　four　times；〃　Clemenza　said。　〃I　always　asked　Freddie　if　he　wanted　another　guy　but　he　said　no。　There's　been　no　cause；　the　last　ten　years　things　been　smooth；　you　know。〃
　
　〃Yeah；〃　Sonny　said。　〃I'll　see　you　at　my　father's　house。　Be　sure　you　bring　Paulie。　Pick　him　up　on　your　way　over。　I　don't　care　how　sick　he　is。　You　got　that？〃　He　slammed　down　the　phone　without　waiting　for　an　answer。
　
　His　wife　was　weeping　silently。　He　stared　at　her　for　a　moment；　then　said　in　a　harsh　voice；　〃Any　of　our　people　call；　tell　them　to　get　me　in　my　father's　house　on　his　special　phone。　Anybody　else　call；　you　don't　know　nothing。　If　Tom's　wife　calls；　tell　her　that　Tom　won't　be　home　for　a　while；　he's　on　business。〃
　
　He　pondered　for　a　moment。　〃A　couple　of　our　people　will　e　to　stay　here。〃　He　saw　her　look　of　fright　and　said　impatiently；　〃You　don't　have　to　be　scared；　I　just　want　them　here。　Do　whatever　they　tell　you　to　do。　If　you　wanta　talk　to　me；　get　me　on　Pop's　special　phone　but　don't　call　me　unless　it's　really　important。　And　don't　worry。〃　He　went　out　of　the　house。
　
　Darkness　had　fallen　and　the　December　wind　whipped　through　the　mall。　Sonny　had　no　fear　about　stepping　out　into　the　night。　All　eight　houses　were　owned　by　Don　Corleone。　At　the　mouth　of　the　mall　the　two　houses　on　either　side　were　rented　by　family　retainers　with　their　own　families　and　star　boarders；　single　men　who　lived　in　the　basement　apartments。　Of　the　remaining　six　houses　that　formed　the　rest　of　the　half　circle；　one　was　inhabited　by　Tom　Hagen　and　his　family；　his　own；　and　the　smallest　and　least　ostentatious　by　the　Don　himself。　The　other　three　houses　were　given　rent…free　to　retired　friends　of　the　Don　with　the　understanding　that　they　would　be　vacated　whenever　he　requested。　The　harmless…looking　mall　was　an　impregnable　fortress。
　
　All　eight　houses　were　equipped　with　floodlights　which　bathed　the　grounds　around　them　and　made　the　mall　impossible　to　lurk　in。　Sonny　went　across　the　street　to　his　father's　house　and　let　himself　inside　with　his　own　key。　He　yelled　out；　〃Ma；　where　are　you？〃　and　his　mother　came　out　of　the　kitchen。　Behind　her　rose　the　smell　of　frying　peppers。　Before　she　could　say　anything；　Sonny　took　her　by　the　arm　and　made　her　sit　down。　〃I　just　got　a　call；〃　he　said。　〃Now　don't　get　worried。　Pop's　in　the　hospital；　he's　hurt。　Get　dressed　and　get　ready　to　get　down　there。　I'll　have　a　car　and　a　driver　for　you　in　a　little　while。　OK？〃
　
　His　mother　looked　at　him　steadily　for　a　moment　and　then　asked　in　Italian；　〃Have　they　shot　him？〃
　
　Sonny　nodded。　His　mother　bowed　her　head　for　a　moment。　Then　she　went　back　into　the　kitchen。　Sonny　followed　her。　He　watched　her　turn　off　the　gas　under　the　panful　of　peppers　and　then　go　out　and　up　to　the　bedroom。　He　took　peppers　from　the　pan　and　bread　from　the　basket　on　the　table　and　made　a　sloppy　sandwich　with　hot　olive　oil　dripping　from　his　fingers。　He　went　into　the　huge　corner　room　that　was　his　father's　office　and　took　the　special　phone　fr