“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo 42
newspapers to be sent up to his room and relaxed until it was time for his ten A.M.
appointment with Jack Woltz. The appointment had been surprisingly easy to make.
The day before, Hagen had called the most powerful man in the movie labor unions, a
man named Billy Goff. Acting on instructions from Don Corleone, Hagen had told Goff to
arrange an appointment on the next day for Hagen to call on Jack Woltz, that he should
hint to Woltz that if Hagen was not made happy by the results of the interview, there
could be a labor strike at the movie studio. An hour later Hagen received a call from
Goff. The appointment would be at ten A.M. Woltz had gotten the message about the
possible labor strike but hadn’t seemed too impressed, Goff said. He added, “If it really
comes down to that, I gotta talk to the Don myself.”
“If it comes to that he’ll talk to you,” Hagen said. By saying this he avoided making any
promises. He was not surprised that Goff was so agreeable to the Don’s wishes. The
family empire, technically, did not extend beyond the New York area but Don Corleone
had first become strong by helping labor leaders. Many of them still owed him debts of
friendship.
But the ten A.M. appointment was a bad sign. It meant that he would be first on the
appointment list, that he would not be invited to lunch. It meant that Woltz held him in
small worth. Goff had not been threatening enough, probably because Woltz had him on
his graft payroll. And sometimes the Don’s success in keeping himself out of the
limelight worked to the disadvantage of the family business, in that his name did not
mean anything to outside circles.
His analysis proved correct. Woltz kept him waiting for a half hour past the appointed
time. Hagen didn’t mind. The reception room was very plush, very comfortable, and on a
plum-colored couch opposite him sat the most beautiful child Hagen had ever seen. She
was no more than eleven or twelve, dressed in a very expensive but simple way as a
grown woman. She had incredibly golden hair, huge deep sea-blue eyes and a fresh
raspberry-red mouth. She was guarded by a woman obviously her mother, who tried to
stare Hagen down with a cold arrogance that made him want to punch her in the face.
The angel child and the dragon mother, Hagen thought, returning the mother’s cold
stare.
Finally an exquisitely dressed but stout middle-aged woman came to lead him through a
string of offices to the office-apartment of the movie producer. Hagen was impressed by
the beauty of the offices and the people working in them. He smiled. They were all