The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
90
you meet him later on tonight?” 
“Sure,” Luca said. “What time and where?” 
Tattaglia said softly, “The club closes at four in the morning. Why don’t you meet in here 
while the waiters are cleaning ups. 
They knew his habits, Luca thought, they must have been checking him out. He usually 
got up about three or four in the afternoon and had breakfast, then amused himself by 
gambling with cronies in the Family or had a girl. Sometimes he saw one of the midnight 
movies and then would drop in for a drink at one of the clubs. He never went to bed 
before dawn. So the suggestion of a four A.M. meeting was not as outlandish as it 
seemed. 
“Sure, sure,” he said. “I’ll be back at four.” He left the club and caught a cab to his 
furnished room on Tenth Avenue. He boarded with an Italian family to which he was 
distantly related. His two rooms were separated from the rest of their railroad flat by a 
special door. He liked the arrangement because it gave him some family life and also 
protection against surprise where he was most vulnerable. 
The sly Turkish fox was going to show his bushy tail, Luca thought. If things went far 
enough, if Sollozzo committed himself tonight, maybe the whole thing could be wound 
up as a Christmas present for the Don. In his room, Luca unlocked the trunk beneath 
the bed and took out a bulletproof vest. It was heavy. He undressed and put it on over 
his woolen underwear, then put his shirt and jacket over it. He thought for a moment of 
calling the Don’s house at Long Beach to tell him of this new development but he knew 
the Don never talked over the phone, to anyone, and the Don had given him this 
assignment in secret and so did not want anyone, not even Hagen or his eldest son, to 
know about it. 
Luca always carried a gun. He had a license to carry a gun, probably the most 
expensive gun license ever issued anyplace, anytime. It had cost a total of ten thousand 
dollars but it would keep him out of jail if he was frisked by the cops. As a top executive 
operating official of the Family he rated the license. But tonight, just in case he could 
finish off the job, he wanted a “safe” gun. One that could not possibly be traced. But 
then thinking the matter over, he decided that he would just listen to the proposition 
tonight and report back to the Godfather, Don Corleone. 
He made his way back to the club but he did not drink any more. Instead he wandered 
out to 48th Street, where he had a leisurely late supper at Patsy’s, his favorite Italian 

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