The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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restaurant. When it was time for his appointment he drifted uptown to the club entrance. 
The doorman was no longer there when he went in. The hatcheck girl was gone. Only 
Bruno Tattaglia waited to greet him and lead him to the deserted bar at the side of the 
room. Before him he could see the desert of small tables with the polished yellow wood 
dance floor gleaming like a small diamond in the middle of them. In the shadows was 
the empty bandstand, out of it grew the skeleton metal stalk of a microphone. 
Luca sat at the bar and Bruno Tattaglia went behind it. Luca refused the drink offered to 
him and lit a cigarette. It was possible that this would turn out to be something else, not 
the Turk. But then he saw Soltozzo emerge out of the shadows at the far end of the 
room. 
Sollozzo shook his hand and sat at the bar next to him. Tattaglia put a glass in front of 
the Turk, who nodded his thanks. “Do you know who I am?” asked Sollozzo. 
Luca nodded. He smiled grimly. The rats were being flushed out of their holes. It would 
be his pleasure to take care of this renegade Sicilian. 
“Do you know what I am going to ask of you?” Sollozzo asked. 
Luca shook his head. 
“There’s big business to be made,” Sollozzo said. “I mean millions for everybody at the 
top level. On the first shipment I can guarantee you fifty thousand dollars. I’m talking 
about drugs. It’s the coming thing.” 
Luca said, “Why come to me? You want me to talk to my Don?” 
Sollozzo grimaced. “I’ve already talked to the Don. He wants no part of it. All right, I can 
do without him. But I need somebody strong to protect the operation physically. I 
understand you’re not happy with your Family, you might make a switch.” 
Luca shrugged. “If the offer is good enough.” 
Sollozzo had been watching him intently and seemed to have come to a decision. “Think 
about my offer for a few days and then we’ll talk again,” he said. He put out his hand but 
Luca pretended not to see it and busied himself putting a cigarette in his mouth. Behind 
the bar, Bruno Tattaglia made a lighter appear magically and held it to Luca’s cigarette. 
And then he did a strange thing. He dropped the lighter on the bar and grabbed Lucas 
right hand, holding it tight. 
Luca reacted instantly, his body slipping off the bar stool and trying to twist away. But 
Sollozzo had grabbed his other hand at the wrist. Still, Luca was too strong for both of 

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