Vito Corleone nodded in agreeable understanding. "How much more a month?" he
asked.
"Five dollars," Mr. Roberto said. This was a lie. The railway flat, four dark rooms,
rented for twelve dollars a month to the widow and he had not been able to get more
than that from the new tenant.
Vito Corleone took a roll of bills out of his pocket and peeled off three tens. "Here is
the six months' increase in advance. You needn't speak to her about it, she's a proud
50
woman. See me again in another six months. But of course you'll let her keep her dog."
"Like hell," Mr. Roberto said. "And who the hell are you to give me orders. Watch your
manners or you'll be out on your Sicilian ass in the street there."
Vito Corleone raised his hands in surprise. "I'm asking you a favor, only that. One
never knows when one might need a friend, isn't that true? Here, take this money as a
sign of my goodwill and make your own decision. I wouldn't dare to quarrel with it." He
thrust the money into Mr. Roberto's hand. "Do me this little favor, just take the money
and think things over. Tomorrow morning if you want to give me the money back by all
means (любым способом, во что бы то ни стало; /здесь/ конечно же, пожалуйста,
ради Бога) do so. If you want the woman out of your house, how can I stop you? It's
your property, after all. If you don't want the dog in there, I can understand. I dislike
animals myself." He patted Mr. Roberto on the shoulder. "Do me this service, eh? I
won't forget it. Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me, they'll tell you I'm a man
who believes in showing his gratitude."
But of course Mr. Roberto had already begun to understand. That evening he made
inquiries about Vito Corleone. He did not wait until the next morning. He knocked on the
Corleone door that very night, apologizing for the lateness of the hour and accepted a
glass of wine from Signora Corleone. He assured Vito Corleone that it had all been a
dreadful misunderstanding, that of course Signora Colombo could remain in the flat, of
course she could keep her dog. Who were those miserable tenants to complain about
noise from a poor animal when they paid such a low rent? At the finish he threw the
thirty dollars Vito Corleone had given him on the table and said in the most sincere
fashion, "Your good heart in helping this poor widow has shamed me and I wish to show
that I, too, have some Christian charity (милосердие). Her rent will remain what it was."
All concerned played this comedy prettily. Vito poured wine, called for cakes, wrung
Mr. Roberto's hand and praised his warm heart. Mr. Roberto sighed and said that
having made the acquaintance of such a man as Vito Corleone restored his faith in
human nature. Finally they tore themselves away from each other. Mr. Roberto, his
bones turned to jelly with fear at his narrow escape, caught the streetcar to his home in
the Bronx and took to his bed. He did not reappear in his tenements for three days.
Vito Corleone was now a "man of respect" in the neighborhood. He was reputed to be
a member of the Mafia of Sicily. One day a man who ran card games in a furnished
51
room came to him and voluntarily paid him twenty dollars each week for his "friendship."
He had only to visit the game once or twice a week to let the players understand they
were under his protection.
Store owners who had problems with young hoodlums asked him to intercede
(вмешаться). He did so and was properly rewarded. Soon he had the enormous
income for that time and place of one hundred dollars a week. Since Clemenza and
Tessio were his friends, his allies, he had to give them each part of the money, but this
he did without being asked. Finally he decided to go into the olive oil importing business
with his boyhood chum (приятель, закадычный друг), Genco Abbandando. Genco
would handle the business, the importing of the olive oil from Italy, the buying at the
proper price, the storing in his father's warehouse. Genco had the experience for this
part of the business. Clemenza and Tessio would be the salesmen. They would go to
every Italian grocery store in Manhattan, then Brooklyn, then the Bronx, to persuade
store owners to stock Genco Pura olive oil. (With typical modesty, Vito Corleone refused
to name the brand (головня; клеймо; /здесь/ фабричная марка) after himself.) Vito of
course would be the head of the firm since he was supplying most of the capital. He
also would be called in on special cases, where store owners resisted the sales talks of
Clemenza and Tessio. Then Vito Corleone would use his own formidable powers of
persuasion.
For the next few years Vito Corleone lived that completely satisfying life of a small
businessman wholly devoted to building up his commercial enterprise in a dynamic,
expanding economy. He was a devoted father and husband but so busy he could spare
his family little of his time. As Genco Pura olive oil grew to become the bestselling
imported Italian oil in America, his organization mushroomed (быстро росла;
mushroom – гриб). Like any good salesman he came to understand the benefits of
undercutting his rivals in price, barring them from distribution outlets by persuading
store
owners to stock less of their brands. Like any good businessman he aimed at holding a
monopoly by forcing his rivals to abandon the field or by merging (to merge –
сливаться) with his own company. However, since he had started off relatively helpless,
economically, since he did not believe in advertising, relying on word of mouth and
since if truth be told, his olive oil was no better than his competitors', he could not use
the common strangleholds (stranglehold – удушение, мертвая хватка) of legitimate
businessmen. He had to rely on the force of his own personality and his reputation as a
"man of respect."
52
Even as a young man, Vito Corleone became known as a "man of reasonableness."
He never uttered a threat. He always used logic that proved to be irresistible. He always
made certain that the other fellow got his share of profit. Nobody lost. He did this, of
course, by obvious means. Like many businessmen of genius he learned that free
competition was wasteful, monopoly efficient. And so he simply set about (начал,
приступил) achieving that efficient monopoly. There were some oil wholesalers in
Brooklyn, men of fiery temper, headstrong, not amenable (поддающийся, податливый,
сговорчивый [∂'mi:n∂bl]) to reason, who refused to see, to recognize, the vision of Vito
Corleone, even after he had explained everything to them with the utmost patience and
detail. With these men Vito Corleone threw up his hands in despair and sent Tessio to
Brooklyn to set up a headquarters and solve the problem. Warehouses were burned,
truckloads of olive-green oil were dumped to form lakes in the cobbled (cobble –
булыжник) waterfront (порт, район порта) streets. One rash man, an arrogant
Milanese with more faith in the police than a saint has in Christ, actually went to the
authorities with a complaint against his fellow Italians, breaking the ten-century-old law
of omerta. But before the matter could progress any further the wholesaler disappeared,
never to be seen again, leaving behind, deserted, his devoted wife and three children,
who, God be thanked, were fully grown and capable of taking over his business and
coming to terms (договорившись, заключив соглашение; terms – условия
соглашения, договор) with the Genco Pura Oil Company.
But great men are not born great, they grow great, and so it was with Vito Corleone.
When prohibition (запрещение; запрещение продажи спиртных напитков (1920–33)
[pr∂uı’bı∫∂n]; to prohibit [pr∂’hıbıt] – запрещать, препятствовать) came to pass and
alcohol forbidden to be sold, Vito Corleone made the final step from a quite ordinary,
somewhat ruthless businessman to a great Don in the world of criminal enterprise. It did
not happen in a day, it did not happen in a year, but by the end of the Prohibition period
and the start of the Great Depression, Vito Corleone had become the Godfather, the
Don, Don Corleone.
It started casually enough. By this time the Genco Pura Oil Company had a fleet of six
delivery trucks. Through Clemenza, Vito Corleone was approached by a group of Italian
bootleggers (торговец контрабандными или самогонными спиртными напитками;
bootleg – голенище) who smuggled alcohol and whiskey in from Canada. They needed
trucks and deliverymen to distribute their produce over New York City. They needed
deliverymen who were reliable, discreet and of a certain determination and force. They
were willing to pay Vito Corleone for his trucks and for his men. The fee was so
enormous that Vito Corleone cut back drastically (радикально; drastic –
сильнодействующий /о лекарстве/) on his oil business to use the trucks almost
53
exclusively for the service of the bootlegger-smugglers. This despite the fact that these
gentlemen had accompanied their offer with a silky threat. But even then Vito Corleone
was so mature a man that he did not take insult at a threat or become angry and refuse
a profitable offer because of it. He evaluated the threat, found it lacking in conviction,
and lowered his opinion of his new partners because they had been so stupid to use