The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
37
Kay Adams was escorted to her New York City hotel by Paulie Gatto and Clemenza. 
The car was large, luxurious and driven by Gatto. Clemenza sat in the back seat and 
Kay was given the front seat next to the driver. She found both men wildly exotic. Their 
speech was movie Brooklynese and they treated her with exaggerated courtliness. 
During the ride she chatted casually with both men and was surprised when they spoke 
of Michael with unmistakable affection and respect. He had led her to believe that he 
was an alien in his father’s world. Now Clemenza was assuring her in his wheezing 
guttural voice that the “old man” thought Mike was the best of his sons, the one who 
would surely inherit the family business. 
“What business is that?” Kay asked in the most natural way. 
Paulie Gatto gave her a quick glance as he turned the wheel. Behind her Clemenza said 
in a surprised voice. “Didn’t Mike tell you? Mr. Corleone is the biggest importer of Italian 
olive oil in the States. Now that the war is over the business could get real rich. He’ll 
need a smart boy like Mike.” 
At the hotel Clemenza insisted on coming to the desk with her. When she protested, he 
said simply, “The boss said to make sure you got home OK. I gotta do it.” 
After she received her room key he walked her to the elevator and waited until she got 
in. She waved to him, smiling, and was surprised at his genuine smile of pleasure in 
return. It was just as well she did not see him go back to the hotel clerk and ask, “What 
name she registered under?” 
The hotel clerk looked at Clemenza coldly. Clemenza rolled the little green spitball he 
was holding in his hand across to the clerk, who picked it up and immediately said, “Mr. 
and Mrs. Michael Corleone.” 
Back in the car, Paulie Gatto said, “Nice dame.” 
Clemenza grunted. “Mike is doing the job on her.” Unless, he thought, they were really 
married. “Pick me up early in the morning,” he told Paulie Gatto. “Hagen got some deal 
for us that gotta be done right away.” 
* * *
It was late Sunday night before Tom Hagen could kiss his wife good-bye and drive out 
to the airport. With his special number one priority (a grateful gift from a Pentagon staff 
general officer) he had no trouble getting on a plane to Los Angeles. 
It had been a busy but satisfying day for Tom Hagen. Genco Abbandando had died at 

---