“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo 74
sitting behind Hagen went to answer it. He listened and then said curtly, “OK, I’ll tell
him.” He hung up the phone, went to Sollozzo’s side and whispered in the Turk’s ear.
Hagen saw Sollozzo’s face go pale, his eyes glitter with rage. He himself felt a thrill of
fear. Sollozzo was looking at him speculatively and suddenly Hagen knew that he was
no longer going to be set free. That something had happened that might mean his
death. Sollozzo said, “The old marl is still alive. Five bullets in his Sicilian hide and he’s
still alive.” He gave a fatalistic shrug. “Bad luck,” he said to Hagen. “Bad luck for me.
Bad luck for you.”
Chapter 4 When Michael Corleone arrived at his father’s house in Long Beach he found the narrow
entrance mouth of the mall blocked off with a link chain. The mall itself was bright with
the floodlights of all eight houses, outlining at least ten cars parked along the curving
cement walk.
Two men he didn’t know were leaning against the chain. One of them asked in a
Brooklyn accent, “Who’re you?”
He told them. Another man came out of the nearest house and peered at his face.
“That’s the Don’s kid,” he said. “I’ll bring him inside.” Mike followed this man to his
father’s house, where two men at the door let him and his escort pass inside.
The house seemed to be full of men he didn’t know, until he went into the living room.
There Michael saw Tom Hagen’s wife, Theresa, sitting stiffly on the sofa, smoking a
cigarette. On the coffee table in front of her was a glass of whiskey. On the other side of
the sofa sat the bulky Clemenza. The caporegime’s face was impassive, but he was
sweating and the cigar in his hand glistened slickly black with his saliva.
Clemenza came to wring his hand in a consoling way, muttering, “Your mother is at the
hospital with your father, he’s going to be all right.” Paulie Gatto stood up to shake
hands. Michael looked at him curiously. He knew Paulie was his father’s bodyguard but
did not know that Paulie had stayed home sick that day. But he sensed tension in the
thin dark face. He knew Gatto’s reputation as an up-and-coming man, a very quick man
who knew how to get delicate jobs done without complications, and today he had failed
in his duty. He noticed several other men in the corners of the room but he did not
recognize them. They were not of Clemenza’s people. Michael put these facts together
and understood. Clemenza and Gatto were suspect. Thinking that Paulie had been at
the scene, he asked the ferret-faced young man, “How is Freddie? He OK?”