The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
119
accidents. You’d be surprised how well these affairs go. Now put this hat on and let’s 
see how you look.” He clapped a gray fedora on Michael’s head. Michael, who never 
wore a hat, grimaced. Clemenza reassured him. “It helps against identification, just in 
case. Mostly it gives witnesses an excuse to change their identification when we make 
them see the light. Remember, Mike, don’t worry about prints. The butt and trigger are 
fixed with special tape. Don’t touch any other part of the gun, remember that.” 
Michael said, “Has Sonny found out where Soliozzo is taking me?” 
Clemenza shrugged. “Not yet. Sollozzo is being very careful. But don’t worry about him 
harming you. The negotiator stays in our hands until you come back safe. If anything 
happens to you, the negotiator pays.” 
“Why the hell should he stick his neck out?” Michael asked. 
“He gets a big fee,” Clemenza said. “A small fortune. Also he is an important man in the 
Families. He knows Sollozzo can’t let anything happen to him. Your life is not worth the 
negotiator’s life to Sollozzo. Very simple. You’ll be safe all right. We’re the ones who 
catch hell afterwards.” 
“How bad will it be?” Michael asked. 
“Very bad,” Clemenza said. “It means an all-out war with the Tattaglia Family against the 
Corleone Family. Most of the others will line up with the Tattaglias. The Sanitation 
Department will be sweeping up a lot of dead bodies this winter.” He shrugged. “These 
things have to happen once every ten years or so. It gets rid of the bad blood. And then 
if we let them push us around on the little things they wanta take over everything. You 
gotta stop them at the beginning. Like they shoulda stopped Hitler at Munich, they 
should never let him get away with that, they were just asking for big trouble when they 
let him get away with that.” 
Michael had heard his father say this same thing before, only in 1939 before the war 
actually started. If the Families had been running the State Department there would 
never have been World War II, he thought with a grin. 
They drove back to the mall and to the Don’s house, where Sonny still made his 
headquarters. Michael wondered how long Sonny could stay cooped up in the safe 
territory of the mall. Eventually he would have to venture out. They found Sonny taking a 
nap on the couch. On the coffee table was the remains of his late lunch, scraps of steak 
and bread crumbs and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. 

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