The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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formalities required by the Nevada laws but everything would be taken care of for her 
and her own personal inconvenience would be at a minimum. However she was not to 
discuss this arrangement with anyone without his consent. She would be protected 
legally in every way and her money every month would be assured. If the authorities or 
any law-enforcement agencies ever questioned her, she was to simply refer them to her 
lawyer and she would not be bothered any further. 
Lucy agreed. She understood what was happening but had no objections to how she 
was being used. It seemed a reasonable favor. But when Hagen asked her to keep her 
eyes open around the hotel, keep an eye on Freddie and on Freddie’s boss, the man 
who owned and operated the hotel, as a major stockholder, she said to him, “Oh, Tom, 
you don’t want me to spy on Freddie?” 
Hagen smiled. “His father worries about Freddie. He’s in fast company with Moe Greene 
and we just want to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” He didn’t bother to 
explain to her that the Don had backed the building of this hotel in the desert of Las 
Vegas not only to supply a haven for his son, but to get a foot in the door for bigger 
operations. 
It was shortly after this interview that Dr. Jules Segal came to work as the hotel 
physician. He was very thin, very handsome and charming and seemed very young to 
be a doctor, at least to Lucy. She met him when a lump grew above her wrist on her 
forearm. She worried about it for a few days, then one morning went to the doctor’s suite 
of offices in the hotel. Two of the show girls from the chorus line were in the waiting 
room, gossiping with each other. They had the blond peach-colored prettiness Lucy 
always envied. They looked angelic. But one of the girls was saying, “I swear if I have 
another dose I’m giving up dancing.” 
When Dr. Jules Segal opened his office door to motion one of the show giris inside, 
Lucy was tempted to leave, and if it had been something more personal and serious she 
would have. Dr. Segal was wearing slacks and an open shirt. The horn-rimmed glasses 
helped and his quiet reserved manner, but the impression he gave was an informal one, 
and like many basically old-fashioned people, Lucy didn’t believe that medicine and 
informality mixed. 
When she finally got into his office there was something so reassuring in his manner 
that all her misgivings fled. He spoke hardly at all and yet he was not brusque, and he 
took his time. When she asked him what the lump was he patiently explained that it was 

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