“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo 196
be able to give us a lead.”
Kay said coldly, “I don’t believe a word of it.” But she felt a bit sick knowing the part
about Mike getting his jaw broken must be true. Not that that would make Mike commit
murder.
“Will you let us know if Mike contacts you?” Phillips asked.
Kay shook her head. The other detective, Siriani, said roughly, “We know you two have
been shacking up together. We have the hotel records and witnesses. If we let that
information slip to the newspapers your father and mother would feel pretty lousy. Real
respectable people like them wouldn’t think much of a daughter shacking up with a
gangster. If you don’t come clean right now I’ll call your old man in here and give it to
him straight.”
Kay looked at him with astonishment. Then she got up and went to the door of the study
and opened it. She could see her father standing at the living-room window, sucking at
his pipe. She called out, “Dad, can you join us?” He turned, smiled at her, and walked to
the study. When he came through the door he put his arm around his daughter’s waist
and faced the detectives and said, “Yes, gentlemen?”
When they didn’t answer, Kay said coolly to Detective Siriani, “Give it to him straight,
officer.”
Siriani flushed. “Mr. Adams, I’m telling you this for your daughter’s good. She is mixed
up with a hoodlum we have reason to believe committed a murder on a police officer.
I’m just telling her she can get into serious trouble unless she cooperates with us. But
she doesn’t seem to realize how serious this whole matter is. Maybe you can talk to
her.”
“That is quite incredible,” Mr. Adams said politely.
Siriani jutted his jaw. “Your daughter and Michael Corleone have been going out
together for over a year. They have stayed overnight in hotels together registered as
man and wife. Michael Corleone is wanted for questioning in the murder of a police
officer. Your daughter refuses to give us any information that may help us. Those are
the facts. You can call them incredible but I can back everything up.”
“I don’t doubt your word, sir,” Mr. Adams said gently. “What I find incredible is that my
daughter could be in serious trouble. Unless you’re suggesting that she is a”– here his
face became one of scholarly doubt– “a ‘moll,’ I believe it’s called.”