The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
175
body at dawn, never questioned Vito Corleone. Indeed he was astonished that they 
never learned about Fanucci’s visit to his home on the night he was shot to death. He 
had counted on that for an alibi, Fanucci leaving the tenement alive. He only learned 
later that the police had been delighted with the murder of Fanucci and not too anxious 
to pursue his killers. They had assumed it was another gang execution, and had 
questioned hoodlums with records in the rackets and a history of strongarm. Since Vito 
had never been in trouble he never came into the picture. 
But if he had outwitted the police, his partners were another matter. Pete Clemenza and 
Tessio avoided him for the next week, for the next two weeks, then they came to call on 
him one evening. They came with obvious respect. Vito Corleone greeted them with 
impassive courtesy and served them wine. 
Clemenza spoke first. He said softly, “Nobody is collecting from the store owners on 
Ninth Avenue. Nobody is collecting from the card games and gambling in the 
neighborhood.” 
Vito Corleone gazed at both men steadily but did not reply. Tessio spoke. “We could 
take over Fanucci’s customers. They would pay us.” 
Vito Corleone shrugged. “Why come to me? I have no interest in such things.” 
Clemenza laughed. Even in his youth, before growing his enormous belly, he had a fat 
man’s laugh. He said now to Vito Corleone, “How about that gun I gave you for the truck 
job? Since you won’t need it any more you can give it back to me.” 
Very slowly and deliberately Vito Corleone took a wad of bills out of his side pocket and 
peeled off five tens. “Here, I’ll pay you. I threw the gun away after the truck job.” He 
smiled at the two men. 
At that time Vito Corleone did not know the effect of this smile. It was chilling because it 
attempted no menace. He smiled as if it was some private joke only he himself could 
appreciate. But since he smiled in that fashion only in affairs that were lethal, and since 
the joke was not really private and since his eyes did not smile, and since his outward 
character was usually so reasonable and quiet, the sudden unmasking of his true self 
was frightening. 
Clemenza shook his head. “I don’t want the money,” he said. Vito pocketed the bills. He 
waited. They all understood each other. They knew he had killed Fanucci and though 
they never spoke about it to anyone the whole neighborhood, within a few weeks, also 
knew. Vito Corleone was treated as a “man of respect” by everyone. But he made no 

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