The Godfather

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 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
205
On East 112th Street a long line of cars were doubleparked in front of a candy store that 
was the headquarters of Carlo Rizzi’s book. On the sidewalk in front of the store, fathers 
played catch with small children they had taken for a Sunday morning ride and to keep 
them company as they placed their bets. When they saw Carlo Rizzi coming they 
stopped playing ball and bought their kids ice cream to keep them quiet. Then they 
started studying the newspapers that gave the starting pitchers, trying to pick out 
winning baseball bets for the day. 
Carlo went into the large room in the back of the store. His two “writers,” a small wiry 
man called Sally Rags and a big husky fellow called Coach, were already waiting for the 
action to start. They had their huge, lined pads in front of them ready to write down bets. 
On a wooden stand was a blackboard with the names of the sixteen big league baseball 
teams chalked on it, paired to show who was playing against who. Against each pairing 
was a blocked-out square to enter the odds. 
Carlo asked Coach, “Is the store phone tapped today?” 
Coach shook his head. “The tap is still off.” 
Carlo went to the wall phone and dialed a number. Sally Rags and Coach watched him 
impassively as he jotted down the “line,” the odds on all the baseball games for that day. 
They watched him as he hung up the phone and walked over to the blackboard and 
chalked up the odds against each game. Though Carlo did not know it, they had already 
gotten the line and were checking his work. In the first week in his job Carlo had made a 
mistake in transposing the odds onto the blackboard and had created that dream of all 
gamblers, a “middle.” That is, by betting the odds with him and then betting against the 
same team with another bookmaker at the correct. odds, the gambler could not lose. 
The only one who coud lose was Carlo’s book. That mistake had caused a 
six-thousand-dollar loss in the book for the week and confirmed the Don’s judgment 
about his son-in-law. He had given the word that all of Carlo’s work was to be checked. 
Normally the highly placed members of the Corleone Family would never be concerned 
with such an operational detail. There was at least a five-layer insulation to their level. 
But since the book was being used as a testing ground for the son-in-law, it had been 
placed under the direct scrutiny of Tom Hagen, to whom a report was sent every day. 
Now with the line posted, the gamblers were thronging into the back room of the candy 
store to jot down the odds on their newspapers next to the games printed there with 
probable pitchers. Some of them held their little children by the hand as they looked up 

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