mp.godfather-第14部分

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　all　bee　rich　producers。　He　had　almost　forgotten　the　Johnny　Fontane　problem　when　his　secretary　told　him　California　was　calling。　He　felt　a　little　thrill　of　anticipation　as　he　picked　up　the　phone　and　said；　〃Hagen　here。〃
　
　The　voice　that　came　over　the　phone　was　unrecognizable　with　hate　and　passion。　〃You　fucking　bastard；〃　Woltz　screamed。　〃I'll　have　you　all　in　jail　for　a　hundred　years。　I'll　spend　every　penny　I　have　to　get　you。　I'll　get　that　Johnny　Fontane's　balls　cut　off；　do　you　hear　me；　you　guinea　fuck？〃
　
　Hagen　said　kindly；　〃I'm　German…Irish。〃　There　was　a　long　pause　and　then　a　click　of　the　phone　being　hung　up。　Hagen　smiled。　Not　once　had　Woltz　uttered　a　threat　against　Don　Corleone　himself。　Genius　had　its　rewards。
　
　**********
　
　Jack　Woltz　always　slept　alone。　He　had　a　bed　big　enough　for　ten　people　and　a　bedroom　large　enough　for　a　movie　ballroom　scene；　but　he　had　slept　alone　since　the　death　of　his　first　wife　ten　years　before。　This　did　not　mean　he　no　longer　used　women。　He　was　physically　a　vigorous　man　despite　his　age；　but　he　could　be　aroused　now　only　by　very　young　girls　and　had　learned　that　a　few　hours　in　the　evening　were　all　the　youth　his　body　and　his　patience　could　tolerate。
　
　On　this　Thursday　morning；　for　some　reason；　he　awoke　early。　The　light　of　dawn　made　his　huge　bedroom　as　misty　as　a　foggy　meadowland。　Far　down　at　the　foot　of　his　bed　was　a　familiar　shape　and　Woltz　struggled　up　on　his　elbows　to　get　a　clearer　look。　It　had　the　shape　of　a　horse's　head。　Still　groggy；　Woltz　reached　and　flicked　on　the　night　table　lamp。
　
　The　shock　of　what　he　saw　made　him　physically　ill。　It　seemed　as　if　a　great　sledgehammer　had　struck　him　on　the　chest；　his　heartbeat　jumped　erratically　and　he　became　nauseous。　His　vomit　spluttered　on　the　thick　bear　rug。
　
　Severed　from　its　body；　the　black　silky　head　of　the　great　horse　Khartoum　was　stuck　fast　in　a　thick　cake　of　blood。　White；　reedy　tendons　showed。　Froth　covered　the　muzzle　and　those　apple…sized　eyes　that　had　glinted　like　gold；　were　mottled　the　color　of　rotting　fruit　with　dead；　hemorrhaged　blood。　Woltz　was　struck　by　a　purely　animal　terror　and　out　of　that　terror　he　screamed　for　his　servants　and　out　of　that　terror　he　called　Hagen　to　make　his　uncontrolled　threats。　His　maniacal　raving　alarmed　the　butler；　who　called　Woltz's　personal　physician　and　his　second　in　mand　at　the　studio。　But　Woltz　regained　his　senses　before　they　arrived。
　
　He　had　been　profoundly　shocked。　What　kind　of　man　could　destroy　an　animal　worth　six　hundred　thousand　dollars？　Without　a　word　of　warning。　Without　any　negotiation　to　have　the　act；　its　order；　countermanded。　The　ruthlessness；　the　sheer　disregard　for　any　values；　implied　a　man　who　considered　himself　pletely　his　own　law；　even　his　own　God。　And　a　man　who　backed　up　this　kind　of　will　with　the　power　and　cunning　that　held　his　own　stable　security　force　of　no　account。　For　by　this　time　Woltz　had　learned　that　the　horse's　body　had　obviously　been　heavily　drugged　before　someone　leisurely　hacked　the　huge　triangular　head　off　with　an　ax。　The　men　on　night　duty　claimed　that　they　had　heard　nothing。　To　Woltz　this　seemed　impossible。　They　could　be　made　to　talk。　They　had　been　bought　off　and　they　could　be　made　to　tell　who　had　done　the　buying。
　
　Woltz　was　not　a　stupid　man；　be　was　merely　a　supremely　egotistical　one。　He　had　mistaken　the　power　he　wielded　in　his　world　to　be　more　potent　than　the　power　of　Don　Corleone。　He　had　merely　needed　some　proof　that　this　was　not　true。　He　understood　this　message。　That　despite　all　his　wealth；　despite　all　his　contacts　with　the　President　of　the　United　States；　despite　all　his　claims　of　friendship　with　the　director　of　the　FBI；　an　obscure　importer　of　Italian　olive　oil　would　have　him　killed。　Would　actually　have　him　killed！　Because　he　wouldn't　give　Johnny　Fontane　a　movie　part　he　wanted。　It　was　incredible。　People　didn't　have　any　right　to　act　that　way。　There　couldn't　be　any　kind　of　world　if　people　acted　that　way。　It　was　insane。　It　meant　you　couldn't　do　what　you　wanted　with　your　own　money；　with　the　panies　you　owned；　the　power　you　had　to　give　orders。　It　was　ten　times　worse　than　munism。　It　had　to　be　smashed。　It　must　never　be　allowed。
　
　Woltz　let　the　doctor　give　him　a　very　mild　sedation。　It　helped　him　calm　down　again　and　to　think　sensibly。　What　really　shocked　him　was　the　casualness　with　which　this　man　Corleone　had　ordered　the　destruction　of　a　world…famous　horse　worth　six　hundred　thousand　dollars。　Six　hundred　thousand　dollars！　And　that　was　just　for　openers。　Woltz　shuddered。　He　thought　of　this　life　he　had　built　up。　He　was　rich。　He　could　have　the　most　beautiful　women　in　the　world　by　cooking　his　finger　and　promising　a　contract。　He　was　received　by　kings　and　queens。　He　lived　a　life　as　perfect　as　money　and　power　could　make　it。　It　was　crazy　to　risk　all　this　because　of　a　whim。　Maybe　he　could　get　to　Corleone。　What　was　the　legal　penalty　for　killing　a　racehorse？　He　laughed　wildly　and　his　doctor　and　servants　watched　him　with　nervous　anxiety。　Another　thought　occurred　to　him。　He　would　be　the　laughingstock　of　California　merely　because　someone　had　contemptuously　defied　his　power　in　such　arrogant　fashion。　That　decided　him。　That　and　the　thought　that　maybe；　maybe　they　wouldn't　kill　him。　That　they　had　something　much　more　clever　and　painful　in　reserve。
　
　Woltz　gave　the　necessary　orders。　His　personal　confidential　staff　swung　into　action。　The　servants　and　the　doctor　were　sworn　to　secrecy　on　pain　of　incurring　the　studio's　and　Woltz's　undying　enmity。　Word　was　given　to　the　press　that　the　racehorse　Khartoum　had　died　of　an　illness　contracted　during　his　shipment　from　England。　Orders　were　given　to　bury　the　remains　in　a　secret　place　on　the　estate。
　
　Six　hours　later　Johnny　Fontane　received　a　phone　call　from　the　executive　producer　of　the　film　telling　him　to　report　for　work　the　following　Monday。
　
　**********
　
　That　evening；　Hagen　went　to　the　Don's　house　to　prepare　him　for　the　important　meeting　the　next　day　with　Virgil　Sollozzo。　The　Don　had　summoned　his　eldest　son　to　attend；　and　Sonny　Corleone；　his　heavy　Cupid…shaped　face　drawn　with　fatigue；　was　sipping　at　a　glass　of　water。　He　must　still　be　humping　that　maid　of　honor；　Hagen　thought。　Another　worry。
　
　Don　Corleone　settled　into　an　armchair　puffing　his　Di　Nobili　cigar。　Hagen　kept　a　box　of　them　in　his　room。　He　had　tried　to　get　the　Don　to　switch　to　Havanas　but　the　Don　claimed　they　hurt　his　throat。
　
　〃Do　we　know　everything　necessary　for　us　to　know？〃　the　Don　asked。
　
　Hagen　opened　the　folder　that　held　his　notes。　The　notes　were　in　no　way　incriminating；　merely　cryptic　reminders　to　make　sure　he　touched　on　every　important　detail。　〃Sollozzo　is　ing　to　us　for　help；〃　Hagen　said。　〃He　will　ask　the　family　to　put　up　at　least　a　million　dollars　and　to　promise　some　sort　of　immunity　from　the　law。　For　that　we　get　a　piece　of　the　action；　nobody　knows　how　much。　Sollozzo　is　vouched　for　by　the　Tattaglia　family　and　they　may　have　a　piece　of　the　action。　The　action　is　narcotics。　Sollozzo　has　the　contacts　in　Turkey；　where　they　grow　the　poppy。　From　there　he　ships　to　Sicily。　No　trouble。　In　Sicily　he　has　the　plant　to　process　into　heroin。　He　has　safety…valve　operations　to　bring　it　down　to　morphine　and　bring　it　up　to　heroin　if　necessary。　But　it　would　seem　that　the　processing　plant　in　Sicily　is　protected　in　every　way。　The　only　hitch　is　bringing　it　into　this　country；　and　then　distribution。　Also　initial　capital。　A　million　dollars　cash　doesn't　grow　on　trees。〃　Hagen　saw　Don　Corleone　grimace。The　old　man　hated　unnecessary　flourishes　in　business　matters。　He　went　on　hastily。
　
　〃They　call　Sollozzo　the　Turk。　Two　reasons。　He's　spent　a　lot　of　time　in　Turkey　and　is　supposed　to　have　a　Turkish　wife　and　kids。　Second。　He's　supposed　to　be　very　quick　with　the　knife；　or　was；　when　he　was　young。　Only　in　matters　of　business；　though；　and　with　some　sort　of　reasonable　plaint。　A　very　petent　man　and　his　own　boss。　He　has　a　record；　he's　done　two　terms　in　prison；　one　in　Italy；　one　in　the　United　States；　and　he's　known　to　the　authorities　as　a　narcotics　man。　This　could　be　a　plus　for　us。　It　means　that　he'll　never　get　immunity　to　testify；　since　he's　considered　the　top　and；　of　course；　because　of　his　record。　Also　he　has　an　American　wife　and　three　children　and　he　is　a　good　family　man。　He'll　stand　still　for　any　rap　as　long　as　he　knows　that　they　will　be　well　taken　care　of　for　living　money。〃
　
　The　Don　puffed　on　his　cigar　and　said；　〃Santino；　what　do　you　think？〃
　
　Hagen　knew　what　Sonny　would　say。　Sonny　was　chafing　at　being　under　the　Don's　thumb。　He　wanted　a　big　operation　of　his　own。　Something　like　this　would　be　perfect。
　
　Sonny　took　a　long　slug　of　scotch。　〃There's　a　lot　of　money　it　that　white　powder；〃　he　said。　〃But　it　could　be　dangerous。　Some　people　could　wind　up　in　jail　for　twenty　years。　I'd　say　that　if　we　kept　out　of　the　operations　end；　just　stuck　to　protection　and　financing；　it　might　be　a　good　idea。〃
　
　Hagen　looked　at　Sonny　approvingly。　He　had　played　his　cards　well。　He　had　stuck　to　the　obvious；　much　the　best　course　for　him。
　
　The　Don　puffed　on　his　cigar。　〃And　you；　Tom；　what　do　you　think？〃
　
　Hagen　posed　himself　to　be　absolutely　honest。　He　had　already　e　to　the　conclusion　that　the　Don　would　refuse　Sollozzo's　proposition。　But　what　was　worse；　Hagen　was　convinced　that　for　one　of　the　few　times　in　his　experience；　the　Don　had　not　thought　things　through。　He　was　not　looking　far　enough　ahead。
　
　〃Go　ahead；　Tom；〃　the　Don　said　encouragingly。　〃Not　even　a　Sicilian　Consigliere　always　agrees　with　the　boss。〃　They　all　laughed。
　
　〃I　think　you　should　say　yes；〃　Hagen　said。　〃You　know　all　the　obvious　reasons。　But　the　most　important　one　is　this。　There　is　more　money　potential　in　narcotics　than　in　any　other　business。　If　we　don't　get　into　it；　somebody　else　will；　maybe　the　Tattaglia　family。　With　the　revenue　they　earn　they　can　amass　more　and　more　police　and　political　power。　Their　family　will　bee　stronger　than　ours。　Eventually　they　will　e　after　us　to　take　away　what　we　have。　It's　just　like　countries。　If　they　arm；　we　have　to　arm。　If　they　bee　stronger　economically；　they　bee　a　threat　to　us。　Now　we　have　the　gambling　and　we　have　the　unions　and　right　now　they　are　the　best　things　to　have。　But　I　think　narcotics　is　the　ing　thing。　I　think　we　have　to　have　a　piece　of　that　action　or　we　risk　everything