The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
269
hospital?” 
“Freddie called us and asked us to look in,” Fontane said. “We all grew up in the same 
neighborhood. Lucy was maid of honor when Freddie’s sister got married.” 
“Oh,” Jules said. He didn’t let on that he knew the whole story, perhaps because they 
were so cagey about protecting Lucy and her affair with Sonny. 
As they walked down the corridor, Jules said to Fontane, “I have visiting doctor’s 
privileges here, why don’t you let me have a look at your throat?” 
Fontane shook his head. “I’m in a hurry.” 
Nino Valenti said, “That’s a million-dollar throat, he can’t have cheap doctors looking 
down it.” Jules saw Valenti was grinning at him, obviously on his side. 
Jules said cheerfully, “I’m no cheap doctor. I was the brightest young surgeon and 
diagnostician on the East Coast until they got me on an abortion rap.” 
As he had known it would, that made them take him seriously. By admitting his crime he 
inspired belief in his claim of high competence. Valenti recovered first. “If Johnny can’t 
use you, I got a girl friend I want you to look at, not at her throat though.” 
Fontane said to him nervously, “How long will you take?” 
“Ten minutes,” Jules said. It was a lie but he believed in telling lies to people. Truth 
telling and medicine just didn’t go together except in dire emergencies, if then. 
“OK,” Fontane said. His voice was darker, hoarser, with fright. 
Jules recruited a nurse and a consulting room. It didn’t have everything he needed but 
there was enough. In less than ten minutes he knew there was a growth on the vocal 
cords, that was easy. Tucker, that incompetent sartorial son of a bitch of a Hollywood 
phony, should have been able to spot it. Christ, maybe the guy didn’t even have a 
license and if he did it should be taken away from him. Jules didn’t pay any attention to 
the two men now. He picked up the phone and asked for the throat man at the hospital 
to come down. Then he swung around and said to Nino Valenti, “I think it might be a 
long wait for you, you’d better leave.” 
Fontane stared at him in utter disbelief. “You son of a bitch, you think you’re going to 
keep me here? You think you’re going to fuck around with my throat?” 
Jules, with more pleasure than he would have thought possible, gave it to him straight 
between the eyes. “You can do whatever you like,” he said. “You’ve got a growth of 

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