straitlaced about sex. He would consider such cavorting by his son Freddie, two girls at
a time, as degeneracy. Allowing himself to be physically humiliated by a man like Moe
Greene would decrease respect for the Corleone Family. That too would be part of the
reason for being in his father's bad books.
Michael rising from his chair, said, in a tone of dismissal, "I have to get back to New
York tomorrow, so think about your price."
Greene said savagely, "You son of a bitch, you think you can just brush me off like
that? I killed more men than you before I could jerk off. I'll fly to New York and talk to the
Don himself. I'll make him an offer."
Freddie said nervously to Tom Hagen, "Tom, you're the Consigliori, you can talk to the
Don and advise him."
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It was then that Michael turned the full chilly blast of his personality on the two Vegas
men. "The Don has sort of semiretired," he said. "I'm running the Family business now.
And I've removed Tom from the Consigliori spot. He'll be strictly my lawyer here in
Vegas. He'll be moving out with his family in a couple of months to get all the legal work
started. So anything you have to say, say it to me."
Nobody answered. Michael said formally, "Freddie, you're my older brother, I have
respect for you. But don't ever take sides with anybody against the Family again. I won't
even mention it to the Don." He turned to Moe Greene. "Don't insult people who are
trying to help you. You'd do better to use your energy to find out why the casino is losing
money. The Corleone Family has big dough invested here and we're not getting our
money's worth, but I still didn't come here and abuse you. I offer a helping hand. Well, if
you prefer to spit on that helping hand, that's your business. I can't say any more."
He had not once raised his voice but his words had a sobering effect on both Greene
and Freddie. Michael stared at both of them, moving away from the table to indicate that
he expected them both to leave. Hagen went to the door and opened it. Both men left
without saying good night.
The next morning Michael Corleone got the message from Moe Greene: he would not
sell his share of the hotel at any price. It was Freddie who delivered the message.
Michael shrugged and said to his brother, "I want to see Nino before I go back to New
York."
In Nino's suite they found Johnny Fontane sitting on the couch eating breakfast. Jules
was examining Nino behind the closed drapes of the bedroom. Finally the drapes were
drawn back.
Michael was shocked at how Nino looked. The man was visibly disintegrating. The
eyes were dazed, the mouth loose, all the muscles of his face slack. Michael sat on his
bedside and said, "Nino, it's good to catch up with you. The Don always asks about
you."
Nino grinned, it was the old grin. "Tell him I'm dying. Tell him show business is more
dangerous than the olive oil business."
"You'll be OK," Michael said. "If there's anything bothering you that the Family can
help, just tell me."
Nino shook his head. "There's nothing," he said. "Nothing."
Michael chatted for a few more moments and then left. Freddie accompanied him and
his party to the airport, but at Michael's request didn't hang around for departure time.
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As he boarded the plane with Tom Hagen and Al Neri, Michael turned to Neri and said,
"Did you make him good?"
Neri tapped his forehead. "I got Moe Greene mugged and numbered up here."
Chapter 28
On the plane ride back to New York, Michael Corleone relaxed and tried to sleep. It
was useless. The most terrible period of his life was approaching, perhaps even a fatal
time. It could no longer be put off. Everything was in readiness, all precautions had
been taken, two years of precautions. There could be no further delay. Last week when
the Don had formally announced his retirement to the caporegimes and other members
of the Corleone Family, Michael knew that this was his father's way of telling him the
time was ripe.
It was almost three years now since he had returned home and over two years since
he had married Kay. The three years had been spent in learning the Family business.
He had put in long hours with Tom Hagen, long hours with the Don. He was amazed at
how wealthy and powerful the Corleone Family truly was. It owned tremendously
valuable real estate in midtown New York, whole office buildings. It owned, through
fronts, partnerships in two Wall Street brokerage houses, pieces of banks on Long
Island, partnerships in some garment center firms, all this in addition to its illegal
operations in gambling.
The most interesting thing Michael Corleone learned, in going back over past
transactions of the Corleone Family, was that the Family had received some protection
income shortly after the war from a group of music record counterfeiters. The
counterfeiters duplicated and sold phonograph records of famous artists, packaging
everything so skillfully they were never caught. Naturally on the records they sold to
stores the artists and original production company received not a penny. Michael
Corleone noticed that Johnny Fontane had lost a lot of money owing to this
counterfeiting because at that time, just before he lost his voice, his records were the
most popular in the country.
He asked Tom Hagen about it. Why did the Don allow the counterfeiters to cheat his
godson? Hagen shrugged. Business was business. Besides, Johnny was in the Don's
bad graces, Johnny having divorced his childhood sweetheart to marry Margot Ashton.
This had displeased the Don greatly.
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"How come these guys stopped their operation?" Michael asked. "The cops got on to
them?"
Hagen shook his head. "The Don withdrew his protection. That was right after
Connie's wedding."
It was a pattern he was to see often, the Don helping those in misfortune whose
misfortune he had partly created. Not perhaps out of cunning or planning but because of
his variety of interests or perhaps because of the nature of the universe, the interlinking
of good and evil, natural of itself.
Michael had married Kay up in New England, a quiet wedding, with only her family
and a few of her friends present. Then they had moved into one of the houses on the
mall in Long Beach. Michael was surprised at how well Kay got along with his parents
and the other people living on the mall. And of course she had gotten pregnant right
away, like a good, old-style Italian wife was supposed to, and that helped. The second
kid on the way in two years was just icing.
Kay would be waiting for him at the airport, she always came to meet him, she was
always so glad when he came back from a trip. And he was too. Except now. For the
end of this trip meant that he finally had to take the action he had been groomed for
over the last three years. The Don would be waiting for him. The caporegimes would be
waiting for him. And he, Michael Corleone, would have to give the orders, make the
decisions which would decide his and his Family's fate.
Every morning when Kay Adams Corleone got up to take care of the baby's early
feeding, she saw Mama Corleone, the Don's wife, being driven away from the mall by
one of the bodyguards, to return an hour later. Kay soon learned that her mother-in-law
went to church every single morning. Often on her return, the old woman stopped by for
morning coffee and to see her new grandchild.
Mama Corleone always started off by asking Kay why she didn't think of becoming a
Catholic, ignoring the fact that Kay's child had already been baptized a Protestant. So
Kay felt it was proper to ask the old woman why she went to church every morning,
whether that was a necessary part of being a Catholic.
As if she thought that this might have stopped Kay from converting the old woman
said, "Oh, no, no, some Catholics only go to church on Easter and Christmas. You go
when you feel like going."
Kay laughed. "Then why do you go every single morning?"
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In a completely natural way, Mama Corleone said, "I go for my husband," she pointed
down toward the floor, so he don't go down there." She paused. "I say prayers for his
soul every day so he go up there." She pointed heavenward. She said this with an
impish smile, as if she were subverting her husband's will in some way, or as if it were a
losing cause. It was said jokingly almost, in her grim, Italian, old crone fashion. And as
always when her husband was not present, there was an attitude of disrespect to the
great Don.
"How is your husband feeling?" Kay asked politely.
Mama Corleone shrugged. "He's not the same man since they shot him. He lets
Michael do all the work, he just plays the fool with his garden, his peppers, his tomatoes.
As if he were some peasant still. But men are always like that."
Later in the morning Connie Corleone would walk across the mall with her two