mp.godfather-第65节

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　in　that　time　Mussolini　came　to　power。　The　dictator　decreed　that　the　dam　must　be　built。　It　was　not。　The　dictator　had　known　that　the　Mafia　would　be　a　threat　to　his　regime；　forming　what　amounted　to　a　separate　authority　from　his　own。　He　gave　full　powers　to　a　high　police　official；　who　promptly　solved　the　problem　by　throwing　everybody　into　jail　or　deporting　them　to　penal　work　islands。　In　a　few　short　years　he　had　broken　the　power　of　the　Mafia；　simply　by　arbitrarily　arresting　anyone　even　suspected　of　being　a　mafioso。　And　so　also　brought　ruin　to　a　great　many　innocent　families。
　
　The　Bocchicchios　had　been　rash　enough　to　resort　to　force　against　this　unlimited　power。　Half　of　the　men　were　killed　in　armed　bat；　the　other　half　deported　to　penal　island　colonies。　There　were　only　a　handful　left　when　arrangements　were　made　for　them　to　emigrate　to　America　via　the　clandestine　underground　route　of　jumping　ship　through　Canada。　There　were　almost　twenty　immigrants　and　they　settled　in　a　small　town　not　far　from　New　York　City；　in　the　Hudson　Valley；　where　by　starting　at　the　very　bottom　they　worked　their　way　up　to　owning　a　garbage　hauling　firm　and　their　own　trucks。　They　became　prosperous　because　they　had　no　petition。　They　had　no　petition　because　petitors　found　their　trucks　burned　and　sabotaged。　One　persistent　fellow　who　undercut　prices　was　found　buried　in　the　garbage　he　had　picked　up　during　the　day；　smothered　to　death。
　
　But　as　the　men　married；　to　Sicilian　girls；　needless　to　say；　children　came；　and　the　garbage　business　though　providing　a　living；　was　not　really　enough　to　pay　for　the　finer　things　America　had　to　offer。　And　so；　as　a　diversification；　the　Bocchicchio　Family　became　negotiators　and　hostages　in　the　peace　efforts　of　warring　Mafia　families。
　
　A　strain　of　stupidity　ran　through　the　Bocchicchio　clan；　or　perhaps　they　were　just　primitive。　In　any　case　they　recognized　their　limitations　and　knew　they　could　not　pete　with　other　Mafia　families　in　the　struggle　to　organize　and　control　more　sophisticated　business　structures　like　prostitution；　gambling；　dope　and　public　fraud。　They　were　straight…from…the…shoulder　people　who　could　offer　a　gift　to　an　ordinary　patrolman　but　did　not　know　how　to　approach　a　political　bagman。　They　had　only　two　assets。　Their　honor　and　their　ferocity。
　
　A　Bocchicchio　never　lied；　never　mitted　an　act　of　treachery。　Such　behavior　was　too　plicated。　Also；　a　Bocchicchio　never　forgot　an　injury　and　never　left　it　unavenged　no　matter　what　the　cost。　And　so　by　accident　they　stumbled　into　what　would　prove　to　be　their　most　lucrative　profession。
　
　When　warring　families　wanted　to　make　peace　and　arrange　a　parley；　the　Bocchicchio　clan　was　contacted。　The　head　of　the　clan　would　handle　the　initial　negotiations　and　arrange　for　the　necessary　hostages。　For　instance；　when　Michael　had　gone　to　meet　Sollozzo；　a　Bocchicchio　had　been　left　with　the　Corleone　Family　as　surety　for　Michael's　safety；　the　service　paid　for　by　Sollozzo。　If　Michael　were　killed　by　Sollozzo；　then　the　Bocchicchio　male　hostage　held　by　the　Corleone　Family　would　be　killed　by　the　Corleones。　In　this　case　the　Bocchicchios　would　take　their　vengeance　on　Sollozzo　as　the　source　of　their　clansman's　death。　Since　the　Bocchicchios　were　so　primitive；　they　never　let　anything；　any　kind　of　punishment；　stand　in　their　way　of　vengeance。　They　would　give　up　their　own　lives　and　there　was　no　protection　against　them　if　they　were　betrayed。　A　Bocchicchio　hostage　was　gilt…edged　insurance。
　
　And　so　now　when　Don　Corleone　employed　the　Bocchicchios　as　negotiators　and　arranged　for　them　to　supply　hostages　for　all　the　Families　to　e　to　the　peace　meeting；　there　could　be　no　question　as　to　his　sincerity。　There　could　be　no　question　of　treachery。　The　meeting　would　be　safe　as　wedding。
　
　Hostages　given；　the　meeting　took　place　in　the　director's　conference　room　of　a　small　mercial　bank　whose　president　was　indebted　to　Don　Corleone　and　indeed　some　of　whose　stock　belonged　to　Don　Corleone　though　it　was　in　the　president's　name。　The　president　always　treasured　that　moment　when　he　had　offered　to　give　Don　Corleone　a　written　document　proving　his　ownership　of　the　shares；　to　preclude　any　treachery。　Don　Corleone　had　been　horrified。　〃I　would　trust　you　with　my　whole　fortune；〃　he　told　the　president。　〃I　would　trust　you　with　my　life　and　the　welfare　of　my　children。　It　is　inconceivable　to　me　that　you　would　ever　trick　me　or　otherwise　betray　me。　My　whole　world；　all　my　faith　in　my　judgment　of　human　character　would　collapse。　Of　course　I　have　my　own　written　records　so　that　if　something　should　happen　to　me　my　heirs　would　know　that　you　hold　something　in　trust　for　them。　But　I　know　that　even　if　I　were　not　here　in　this　world　to　guard　the　interests　of　my　children；　you　would　be　faithful　to　their　needs。〃
　
　The　president　of　the　bank；　though　not　Sicilian；　was　a　man　of　tender　sensibilities。　He　understood　the　Don　perfectly。　Now　the　Godfather's　request　was　the　president's　mand　and　so　on　a　Saturday　afternoon；　the　executive　suite　of　the　bank；　the　inference　room　with　its　deep　leather　chairs；　its　absolute　privacy；　was　made　available　to　the　Families。
　
　Security　at　the　bank　was　taken　over　by　a　small　army　of　handpicked　men　wearing　bank　guard　uniforms。　At　ten　o'clock　on　a　Saturday　morning　the　conference　room　began　to　fill　up。　Besides　the　Five　Families　of　New　York；　there　were　representatives　from　ten　other　Families　across　the　country；　with　the　exception　of　Chicago；　that　black　sheep　of　their　world。　They　had　given　up　trying　to　civilize　Chicago；　and　they　saw　no　point　in　including　those　mad　dogs　in　this　important　conference。
　
　A　bar　had　been　set　up　and　a　small　buffet。　Each　representative　to　the　conference　had　been　allowed　one　aide。　Most　of　the　Dons　had　brought　their　Consiglieres　as　aides　so　there　were　paratively　few　young　men　in　the　room。　Tom　Hagen　was　one　of　those　young　men　and　the　only　one　who　was　not　Sicilian。　He　was　an　object　of　curiosity；　a　freak。
　
　Hagen　knew　his　manners。　He　did　not　speak；　he　did　not　smile。　He　waited　on　his　boss；　Don　Corleone；　with　all　the　respect　of　a　favorite　earl　waiting　on　his　king；　bringing　him　a　cold　drink；　lighting　his　cigar；　positioning　his　ashtray；　with　respect　but　no　obsequiousness。
　
　Hagen　was　the　only　one　in　that　room　who　knew　the　identity　of　the　portraits　hanging　on　the　dark　paneled　walls。　They　were　mostly　portraits　of　fabulous　financial　figures　done　in　rich　oils。　One　was　of　Secretary　of　the　Treasury　Hamilton。　Hagen　could　not　help　thinking　that　Hamilton　might　have　approved　of　this　peace　meeting　being　held　in　a　banking　institution。　Nothing　was　more　calming；　more　conducive　to　pure　reason；　than　the　atmosphere　of　money。
　
　The　arrival　time　had　been　staggered　for　between　nine…thirty　to　ten　A。M。　Don　Corleone；　in　a　sense　the　host　since　he　had　initiated　the　peace　talks；　had　been　the　first　to　arrive；　one　of　his　many　virtues　was　punctuality。　The　next　to　arrive　was　Carlo　Tramonti；　who　had　made　the　southern　part　of　the　United　States　his　territory。　He　was　an　impressively　handsome　middle…aged　man；　tall　for　a　Sicilian；　with　a　very　deep　sunburn；　exquisitely　tailored　and　barbered。　He　did　not　look　Italian；　he　looked　more　like　one　of　those　pictures　in　the　magazines　of　millionaire　fishermen　lolling　on　their　yachts。　The　Tramonti　Family　earned　its　livelihood　from　gambling；　and　no　one　meeting　their　Don　would　ever　guess　with　what　ferocity　he　had　won　his　empire。
　
　Emigrating　from　Sicily　as　a　small　boy；　he　had　settled　in　Florida　and　grown　to　manhood　there；　employed　by　the　American　syndicate　of　Southern　small…town　politicians　who　controlled　gambling。　These　were　very　tough　men　backed　up　by　very　tough　police　officials　and　they　never　suspected　that　they　could　be　overthrown　by　such　a　greenhorn　immigrant。　They　were　unprepared　for　his　ferocity　and　could　not　match　it　simply　because　the　rewards　being　fought　over　were　not；　to　their　minds；　worth　so　much　bloodshed。　Tramonti　won　over　the　police　with　bigger　shares　of　the　gross；　he　exterminated　those　redneck　hooligans　who　ran　their　operation　with　such　a　plete　lack　of　imagination。　It　was　Tramonti　who　opened　ties　with　Cuba　and　the　Batista　regime　and　eventually　poured　money　into　the　pleasure　resorts　of　Havana　gambling　houses；　whorehouses；　to　lure　gamblers　from　the　American　mainland。　Tramonti　was　now　a　millionaire　many　times　over　and　owned　one　of　the　most　luxurious　hotels　in　Miami　Beach。
　
　When　he　came　into　the　conference　room　followed　by　his　aide；　an　equally　sunburned　Consigliere；　Tramonti　embraced　Don　Corleone；　made　a　face　of　sympathy　to　show　he　sorrowed　for　the　dead　son。
　
　Other　Dons　were　arriving。　They　all　knew　each　other；　they　had　met　over　the　years；　either　socially　or　when　in　the　pursuit　of　their　businesses。　They　had　always　showed　each　other　professional　courtesies　and　in　their　younger；　leaner　days　had　done　each　other　little　services。　The　second　Don　to　arrive　was　Joseph　Zaluchi　from　Detroit。　The　Zaluchi　Family；　under　appropriate　disguises　and　covers；　owned　one　of　the　horse…racing　tracks　in　the　Detroit　area。　They　also　owned　a　good　part　of　the　gambling。　Zaluchi　was　a　moon…faced；　amiable…looking　man　who　lived　in　a　one…hundred…thousand…dollar　house　in　the　fashionable　Grosse　Pointe　section　of　Detroit。　One　of　his　sons　had　married　into　an　old；　well…known　American　family。　Zaluchi；　like　Don　Co