Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

offense (обида, оскорбление; проступок, нарушение; преступление). When they

committed a second they simply disappeared. The flimflam (трюк, мошенническая

проделка) home-improvement gyp (мошенничество; плут) artists, the door-to-door

con men (жулики /сленг/) were politely warned that they were not welcome in Long

Beach. Those confident con men who disregarded the warning were beaten within an

inch of their lives (чуть не до смерти; within an inch of = closely, near to). Resident

young punks who had no respect for law and proper authority were advised in the most

fatherly fashion to run away from home. Long Beach became a model city.

What impressed the Don was the legal validity (действительность, законность

[v∂'lıdıtı]; valid [‘vжlıd] – действительный, имеющий силу) of these sales swindles

(swindle – надувательство). Clearly there was a place for a man of his talents in that

other world which had been closed to him as an honest youth. He took appropriate

steps to enter that world.

And so he lived happily on the mall in Long Beach, consolidating and enlarging his

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empire, until after the war was over, the Turk Sollozzo broke the peace and plunged the

Don's world into its own war, and brought him to his hospital bed.

Book 4

Chapter 15

In the New Hampshire village, every foreign phenomenon was properly noticed by

housewives peering from windows, storekeepers lounging (to lounge – сидеть

развалясь, праздно проводить время) behind their doors. And so when the black

automobile bearing New York license plates stopped in front of the Adams' home, every

citizen knew about it in a matter of minutes.

Kay Adams, really a small-town girl despite her college education, was also peering

from her bedroom window. She had been studying for her exams and preparing to go

downstairs for lunch when she spotted the car coming up the street, and for some

reason she was not surprised when it rolled to a halt (/автомобиль/ остановился) in

front of her lawn. Two men got out, big burly men who looked like gangsters in the

movies to her eyes, and she flew down the stairs to be the first at the door. She was

sure they came from Michael or his family and she didn't want them talking to her father

and mother without any introduction. It wasn't that she was ashamed of any of Mike's

friends, she thought; it was just that her mother and father were old-fashioned New

England Yankees and wouldn't understand her even knowing such people.

She got to the door just as the bell rang and she called to her mother, "I'll get it." She

opened the door and the two big men stood there. One reached inside his breast pocket

like a gangster reaching for a gun and the move so surprised Kay that she let out a little

gasp but the man had taken out a small leather case which he flapped open to show an

identification card. "I'm Detective John Phillips from the New York Police Department,"

he said. He motioned to the other man, a dark-complexioned man with very thick, very

black eyebrows. "This is my partner, Detective Siriani. Are you Miss Kay Adams?"

Kay nodded. Phillips said, "May we come in and talk to you for a few minutes. It's

about Michael Corleone."

She stood aside to let them in. At that moment her father appeared in the small side

hall that led to his study. "Kay, what is it?" he asked.

Her father was a gray-haired, slender, distinguished-looking man who not only was

the pastor of the town Baptist church but had a reputation in religious circles as a

scholar. Kay really didn't know her father well, he puzzled her, but she knew he loved

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her even if he gave the impression he found her uninteresting as a person. Though they

had never been close, she trusted him. So she said simply, "These men are detectives

frorn New York. They want to ask me questions about a boy I know."

Mr. Adams didn't seem surprised. "Why don't we go into my study?" he said.

Detective Phillips said gently, "We'd rather talk to your daughter alone, Mr. Adams."

Mr. Adams said courteously, "That depends on Kay, I think. My dear, would you rather

speak to these gentlemen alone or would you prefer to have me present? Or perhaps

your mother?"

Kay shook her head. "I'll talk to them alone."

Mr. Adams said to Phillips, "You can use my study. Will you stay for lunch?" The two

men shook their heads. Kay led them into the study.

They rested uncomfortably on the edge of the couch as she sat in her father's big

leather chair. Detective Phillips opened the conversation by saying, "Miss Adams, have

you seen or heard from Michael Corleone at any time in the last three weeks?" The one

question was enough to warn her. Three weeks ago she had read the Boston

newspapers with their headlines about the killing of a New York police captain and a

narcotics smuggler named Virgil Sollozzo. The newspaper had said it was part of the

gang war involving the Corleone Farnily.

Kay shook her head. "No, the last time I saw him he was going to see his father in the

hospital. That was perhaps a month ago."