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but, as he had excused his son Michael, so must he excuse other young men who so

misunderstood their duty to their Don and to themselves.

At the end of World War II Don Corleone knew that again his world would have to

change its ways, that it would have to fit itself more snugly (snug – плотно лежащий,

прилегающий) into the ways of the other, larger world. He believed he could do this

with no loss of profit.

There was reason for this belief in his own experience. What had put him on the right

track were two personal affairs. Early in his career the then-young Nazorine, only a

baker's helper planning to get married, had come to him for assistance. He and his

future bride, a good Italian girl, had saved their money and had paid the enormous sum

of three hundred dollars to a wholesaler of furniture recommended to them. This

wholesaler had let them pick out everything they wanted to furnish their tenement

apartment. A fine sturdy (сильный, крепкий, здоровый) bedroom set with two bureaus

and lamps. Also the living room set of heavy stuffed sofa and stuffed armchairs, all

covered with rich gold-threaded fabric. Nazorine and his fiancйe (невеста /франц./

[fı'α:nseı]) had spent a happy day picking out what they wanted from the huge

warehouse crowded with furniture. The wholesaler took their money, their three hundred

dollars wrung from the sweat of their blood, and pocketed it and promised the furniture

to be delivered within the week to the already rented flat.

The very next week however, the firm had gone into bankruptcy. The great warehouse

stocked with furniture had been sealed shut and attached for payment of creditors. The

wholesaler had disappeared to give other creditors time to unleash their anger on the

empty air. Nazorine, one of these, went to his lawyer, who told him nothing could be

done until the case was settled in court and all creditors satisfied. This might take three

years and Nazorine would be lucky to get back ten cents on the dollar.

Vito Corleone listened to this story with amused disbelief. It was not possible that the

law could allow such thievery. The wholesaler owned his own palatial home, an estate

in Long Island, a luxurious automobile, and was sending his children to college. How

could he keep the three hundred dollars of the poor baker Nazorine and not give him

the furniture he had paid for? But, to make sure, Vito Corleone had Genco Abbandando

check it out with the lawyers who represented the Genco Pura company.

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They verified the story of Nazorine. The wholesaler had all his personal wealth in his

wife's name. His furniture business was incorporated and he was not personally liable

(ответственный). True, he had shown bad faith (вероломство) by taking the money of

Nazorine when he knew he was going to file (подать как-либо документ) bankruptcy

but this was a common practice. Under law there was nothing to be done.

Of course the matter was easily adjusted. Don Corleone sent his Consigliori , Genco

Abbandando, to speak to the wholesaler, and as was to be expected, that wide-awake

businessman caught the drift immediately and arranged for Nazorine to get his furniture.

But it was an interesting lesson for the young Vito Corleone.

The second incident had more far-reaching repercussions (repercussion – отдача

/после удара/; отзвук, эхо). In 1939, Don Corleone had decided to move his family out

of the city. Like any other parent he wanted his children to go to better schools and mix

with better companions. For his own personal reasons he wanted the anonymity of

surburban life where his reputation was not known. He bought the mall property in Long

Beach, which at that time had only four newly built houses but with plenty of room for

more. Sonny was formally engaged to Sandra and would soon marry, one of the houses

would be for him. One of the houses was for the Don. Another was for Genco

Abbandando and his family. The other was kept vacant at the time.

A week after the mall was occupied, a group of three workmen came in all innocence

with their truck. They claimed to be furnace (печь, топка ['f∂:nıs]) inspectors for the

town of Long Beach. One of the Don's young bodyguards let the men in and led them to

the furnace in the basement. The Don, his wife and Sonny were in the garden taking

their ease and enjoying the salty sea air.

Much to the Don's annoyance he was summoned into the house by his bodyguard.

The three workmen, all big burly fellows, were grouped around the furnace. They had

taken it apart, it was strewn around the cement basement floor. Their leader, an

authoritative man, said to the Don in a gruff (грубый, сердитый) voice, "Your furnace is

in lousy shape. If you want us to fix it and put it together again, it'll cost you one hundred

fifty dollars for labor and parts and then we'll pass you for county inspection." He took

out a red paper label. "We stamp this seal on it, see, then nobody from the county

bothers you again."

The Don was amused. It had been a boring, quiet week in which he had had to

neglect his business to take care of such family details moving to a new house entailed

(to entail – влечь за собой). In more broken English than his usual slight accent he

asked, "If I don't pay you, what happens to my furnace?"

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65

The leader of the three men shrugged. "We just leave the furnace the way it is now."

He gestured at the metal parts strewn over the floor.

The Don said meekly, "Wait, I'll get you your money." Then he went out into the

garden and said to Sonny, "Listen, there's some men working on the furnace, I don't

understand what they want. Go in and take care of the matter." It was not simply a joke;

he was considering making his son his underboss . This was one of the tests a business

executive had to pass.

Sonny's solution did not altogether please his father. It was too direct, too lacking in

Sicilian subtleness. He was the Club (дубинка), not the Rapier. For as soon as Sonny

heard the leader's demand he held the three men at gunpoint and had them thoroughly

bastinadoed (приказал как следует отколотить; bastinado [bжstı’neıd∂u]– палочные

удары) by the bodyguards. Then he made them put the furnace together again and tidy

up the basement. He searched them and found that they actually were employed by a

house-improvement firm with headquarters in Suffolk County. He learned the name of

the man who owned the firm. Then he kicked the three men to their truck. "Don't let me

see you in Long Beach again," he told them. "I'll have your balls hanging from your

ears."

It was typical of the young Santino, before he became older and crueler, that he

extended his protection to the community he lived in. Sonny paid a personal call to the

home-improvement firm owner and told him not to send any of his men into the Long

Beach area ever again. As soon as the Corleone Family set up their usual business

liaison with the local police force they were informed of all such complaints and all

crimes by professional criminals. In less than a year Long Beach became the most

crime-free town of its size in the United States. Professional stickup artists and strong-

arms received one warning not to ply (усердно работать, заниматься чем-либо; ply –

сгиб, складка; уклон, склонность) their trade in the town. They were allowed one

offense (обида, оскорбление; проступок, нарушение; преступление). When they

committed a second they simply disappeared. The flimflam (трюк, мошенническая

проделка) home-improvement gyp (мошенничество; плут) artists, the door-to-door

con men (жулики /сленг/) were politely warned that they were not welcome in Long

Beach. Those confident con men who disregarded the warning were beaten within an

inch of their lives (чуть не до смерти; within an inch of = closely, near to). Resident

young punks who had no respect for law and proper authority were advised in the most

fatherly fashion to run away from home. Long Beach became a model city.

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What impressed the Don was the legal validity (действительность, законность

[v∂'lıdıtı]; valid [‘vжlıd] – действительный, имеющий силу) of these sales swindles

(swindle – надувательство). Clearly there was a place for a man of his talents in that

other world which had been closed to him as an honest youth. He took appropriate

steps to enter that world.

And so he lived happily on the mall in Long Beach, consolidating and enlarging his

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empire, until after the war was over, the Turk Sollozzo broke the peace and plunged the

Don's world into its own war, and brought him to his hospital bed.

Book 4

Chapter 15

In the New Hampshire village, every foreign phenomenon was properly noticed by

housewives peering from windows, storekeepers lounging (to lounge – сидеть

развалясь, праздно проводить время) behind their doors. And so when the black

automobile bearing New York license plates stopped in front of the Adams' home, every

citizen knew about it in a matter of minutes.

Kay Adams, really a small-town girl despite her college education, was also peering

from her bedroom window. She had been studying for her exams and preparing to go

downstairs for lunch when she spotted the car coming up the street, and for some

reason she was not surprised when it rolled to a halt (/автомобиль/ остановился) in

front of her lawn. Two men got out, big burly men who looked like gangsters in the

movies to her eyes, and she flew down the stairs to be the first at the door. She was

sure they came from Michael or his family and she didn't want them talking to her father

and mother without any introduction. It wasn't that she was ashamed of any of Mike's

friends, she thought; it was just that her mother and father were old-fashioned New

England Yankees and wouldn't understand her even knowing such people.

She got to the door just as the bell rang and she called to her mother, "I'll get it." She

opened the door and the two big men stood there. One reached inside his breast pocket

like a gangster reaching for a gun and the move so surprised Kay that she let out a little

gasp but the man had taken out a small leather case which he flapped open to show an

identification card. "I'm Detective John Phillips from the New York Police Department,"

he said. He motioned to the other man, a dark-complexioned man with very thick, very

black eyebrows. "This is my partner, Detective Siriani. Are you Miss Kay Adams?"