Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

Michael sighed. "The Don instructed me. Through somebody close. Barzini will set me

up through somebody close that, supposedly, I won't suspect."

Hagen smiled at him. "Somebody like me."

Michael smiled back. "You're Irish, they won't trust you."

"I'm German-American," Hagen said.

"To them that's Irish," Michael said. "They won't go to you and they won't go to Neri

because Neri was a cop. Plus both of you are too close to me. They can't take that

gamble. Rocco Lampone isn't close enough. No, it will be Clemenza, Tessio or Carlo

Rizzi."

Hagen said softly, "I'm betting it's Carlo"

"We'll see," Michael said. "It won't be long."

It was the next morning, while Hagen and Michael were having breakfast together.

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Michael took a phone call in the library, and when he came back to the kitchen, he said

to Hagen, "It's all set up. I'm going to meet Barzini a week from now. To make new

peace now that the Don is dead." Michael laughed. Hagen asked, "Who phoned you,

who made the contact?" They both knew that whoever in the Corleone Family had

made the contact had turned traitor.

Michael gave Hagen a sad regretful smile. "Tessio," he said.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence. Over coffee Hagen shook his head, "I

could have sworn it would have been Carlo or maybe Clemenza. I never figured Tessio.

He's the best of the lot."

"He's the most intelligent," Michael said, "And he did what seems to him to be the

smart thing. He sets me up for the hit by Barzini and inherits the Corleone Family. He

sticks with me and he gets wiped out; he's figuring I can't win."

Hagen paused before he asked reluctantly, "How right is he figuring?"

Michael shrugged. "It looks bad. But my father was the only one who understood that

political connections and power are worth ten regimes, I think I've got most of my

father's political power in my hands now, but I'm the only one who really knows that." He

smiled at Hagen, a reassuring smile. "I'll make them call me Don. But I feel lousy about

Tessio."

Hagen said, "Have you agreed to the meeting with Barzini?"

"Yeah," Michael said. "A week from tonight. In Brooklyn, on Tessio's ground where I'll

be safe," He laughed again.

Hagen said, "Be careful before then."

For the first time Michael was cold with Hagen. "I don't need a Consigliori to give me

that kind of advice," be said.

During the week preceding the peace meeting between the Corleone and Barzini

Families, Michael showed Hagen just how careful he could be. He never set foot

outside the mall and never received anyone without Neri beside him. There was only

one annoying complication, Connie and Carlo's oldest boy was to receive his

Confirmation in the Catholic Church and Kay asked Michael to be the Godfather.

Michael refused.

"I don't often beg you," Kay said. "Please do this just for me. Connie wants it so much.

And so does Carlo. It's very important to them. Please, Michael."

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She could see he was angry with her for insisting and expected him to refuse. So she

was surprised when he nodded and said, "OK. But I can't leave the mall. Tell them to

arrange for the priest to confirm the kid here. I'll pay whatever it costs. If they run into

trouble with the church people, Hagen will straighten it out."

And so the day before the meeting with the Barzini Family, Michael Corleone stood

Godfather to the son of Carlo and Connie Rizzi. He presented the boy with so extremely

expensive wristwatch and gold band. There was a small party in Carlo's house, to which

were invited the caporegimes, Hagen, Lampone and everyone who lived on the mall,

including, of course, the Don's widow. Connie was so overcome with emotion that she

hugged and kissed her brother and Kay all during the evening. And even Carlo Rizzi

became sentimental, wringing Michael's hand and calling him Godfather at every

excuse – old country style. Michael himself had never been so affable, so outgoing.

Connie whispered to Kay, "I think Carlo and Mike are going to be real friends now.

Something like this always bring people together."

Kay squeezed her sister-in-law's arm. "I'm so glad," she said.

Chapter 30

Albert Neri sat in his Bronx apartment and carefully brushed the blue serge of his old

policeman's uniform. He unpinned the badge and set it on the table to be polished. The

regulation holster and gun were draped over a chair. This old routine of detail made him

happy in some strange way, one of the few times he had felt happy since his wife had

left him, nearly two years ago.

He had married Rita when she was a high school kid and he was a rookie policeman.

She was shy, dark-haired, from a straitlaced Italian family who never let her stay out

later than ten o'clock at night. Neri was completely in love with her, her innocence, her

virtue, as well as her dark prettiness.

At first Rita Neri was fascinated by her husband. He was immensely strong and she

could see people were afraid of him because of that strength and his unbending attitude

toward what was right and wrong. He was rarely tactful. If he disagreed with a group's