Илья Франк - Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

housed the candy store owner's family. He called in the bets to his central exchange

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and put the money in a small wall safe that was hidden by an extended window drape.

Then he went back down into the candy store after having first burned the bet sheet and

flushed (to flush – спускать; бить струей) its ashes down the toilet bowl.

None of the Sunday games started before two P.M. because of the blue laws, so after

the first crowd of bettors, family men who had to get their bets in and rush home to take

their families to the beach, came the trickling (trickle – струйка) of bachelor gamblers or

the die-hards (die-hard – твердолобый человек; консерватор) who condemned their

families to Sundays in the hot city apartments. These bachelor bettors were the big

gamblers, they bet heavier and came back around four o'clock to bet the second games

of doubleheaders (две игры, следующие непосредственно друг за другом). They

were the ones who made Carlo's Sundays a full-time day with overtime, though some

married men called in from the beach to try and recoup (компенсировать, возмещать

[rı'ku:p]) their losses.

By one-thirty the betting had trickled off so that Carlo and Sally Rags could go out and

sit on the stoop (крыльцо со ступенями; открытая веранда) beside the candy store

and get some fresh air. They watched the stickball (stickball – a form of baseball played

in the streets, on playgrounds, etc., in which a rubber ball and a broomstick or the like

are used in place of a baseball and bat) game the kids were having. A police car went

by. They ignored it. This book had very heavy protection at the precinct and couldn't be

touched on a local level. A raid would have to be ordered from the very top and even

then a warning would come through in plenty of time.

Coach came out and sat beside them. They gossiped a while about baseball and

women. Carlo said laughingly, "I had to bat (бить палкой, битой; bat – бита; дубина,

било /для льна/) my wife around again today, teach her who's boss."

Coach said casually, "She's knocked up pretty big now, ain't she?"

"Ahh, I just slapped her face a few times," Carlo said.

"I didn't hurt her." He brooded for a moment. "She thinks she can boss me around, I

don't stand for that (не потерплю этого)."

There were still a few bettors hanging around shooting the breeze (to shoot the

breeze – трепаться, болтать /сленг/; breeze – легкий ветерок; новость, слух), talking

baseball, some of them sitting on the steps above the two writers and Carlo. Suddenly

the kids playing stickball in the street scattered. A car came screeching (to screech –

скрипеть, визжать) up the block and to a halt in front of the candy store. It stopped so

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abruptly that the tires screamed and before it had stopped, almost, a man came hurtling

out (to hurtle – пролетать, нестись со свистом; сильно бросать) of the driver's seat,

moving so fast that everybody was paralyzed. The man was Sonny Corleone.

His heavy Cupid-featured face with its thick, curved mouth was an ugly mask of fury.

In a split second he was at the stoop and had grabbed Carlo Rizzi by the throat. He

pulled Carlo away from the others, trying to drag him into the street, but Carlo wrapped

his huge muscular arms around the iron railings of the stoop and hung on. He cringed

(to cringe – съеживаться /от страха/) away, trying to hide his head and face in the

hollow of his shoulders. His shirt ripped away in Sonny's hand.

What followed then was sickening. Sonny began beating the cowering Carlo with his

fists, cursing him in a thick, rage-choked voice. Carlo, despite his tremendous physique,

offered no resistance, gave no cry for mercy or protest. Coach and Sally Rags dared not

interfere. They thought Sonny meant to kill his brother-in-law and had no desire to share

his fate. The kids playing stickball gathered to curse the driver who had made them

scatter, but now were watching with awestruck interest. They were tough kids but the

sight of Sonny in his rage silenced them. Meanwhile another car had drawn up behind

Sonny's and two of his bodyguards jumped out. When they saw what was happening

they too dared not interfere. They stood alert, ready to protect their chief if any

bystanders had the stupidity to try to help Carlo.

What made the sight sickening was Carlo's complete subjection, but it was perhaps

this that saved his life. He clung to the iron railings with his hands so that Sonny could

not drag him into the street and despite his obvious equal strength, still refused to fight

back. He let the blows rain on his unprotected head and neck until Sonny's rage ebbed.

Finally, his chest heaving, Sonny looked down at him and said, "You dirty bastard, you

ever beat up my sister again I'll kill you."

These words released the tension. Because of course, if Sonny intended to kill the

man he would never have uttered the threat. He uttered it in frustration because he

could not carry it out. Carlo refused to look at Sonny. He kept his head down and his

hands and arms entwined in the iron railing. He stayed that way until the car roared off

and he heard Coach say in his curiously paternal voice, "OK, Carlo, come on into the

store. Let's get out of sight."

It was only then that Carlo dared to get out of his crouch against the stone steps of the

stoop and unlock his hands from the railing. Standing up, he could see the kids look at

him with the staring, sickened faces of people who had witnessed the degradation of a

fellow human being. He was a little dizzy but it was more from shock, the raw fear that

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had taken command of his body; he was not badly hurt despite the shower of heavy

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blows. He let Coach lead him by the arm into the back room of the candy store and put

ice on his face, which, though it was not cut or bleeding, was lumpy with swelling

bruises. The fear was subsiding now and the humiliation he had suffered made him sick

to his stomach so that he had to throw up (вырвать). Coach held his head over the sink,

supported him as if he were drunk, then helped him upstairs to the apartment and made

him lie down in one of the bedrooms. Carlo never noticed that Sally Rags had

disappeared.

Sally Rags had walked down to Third Avenue and called Rocco Lampone to report

what had happened. Rocco took the news calmly and in his turn called his caporegime ,

Pete Clemenza. Clemenza groaned and said, "Oh, Christ, that goddamn Sonny and his

temper," but his finger had prudently clicked down on the hook so that Rocco never

heard his remark.

Clemenza called the house in Long Beach and got Tom Hagen. Hagen was silent for

a moment and then he said, "Send some of your people and cars out on the road to

Long Beach as soon as you can, just in case Sonny gets held up by traffic or an

accident. When he gets sore like that he doesn't know what the hell he's doing. Maybe

some of our friends on the other side will hear he was in town. You never can tell."

Clemenza said doubtfully, "By the time I could get anybody on the road, Sonny will be

home. That goes for the Tattaglias too."

"I know," Hagen said patiently. "But if something out of the ordinary happens, Sonny

may be held up. Do the best you can, Pete."

Grudgingly Clemenza called Rocco Lampone and told him to get a few people and

cars and cover the road to Long Beach. He himself went out to his beloved Cadillac and

with three of the platoon (взвод; полицейский отряд [pl∂’tu:n]) of guards who now

garrisoned his home, started over the Atlantic Beach Bridge, toward New York City.

One of the hangers-on (hanger-on – прихлебатель, приспешник) around the candy

store, a small bettor on the payroll of the Tattaglia Family as an informer, called the

contact he had with his people. But the Tattaglia Family had not streamlined (to

streamline – придавать обтекаемую форму; хорошо налаживать, подготовить) itself

for the war, the contact still had to go all the way through the insulation layers before he

finally got to the caporegime who contacted the Tattaglia chief. By that time Sonny

Corleone was safely back in the mall, in his father's house, in Long Beach, about to face

his father's wrath.

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Chapter 18

The war of 1947 between the Corleone Family and the Five Families combined

against them proved to be expensive for both sides. It was complicated by the police

pressure put on everybody to solve the murder of Captain McCluskey. It was rare that

operating officials of the Police Department ignored political muscle that protected

gambling and vice operations, but in this case the politicians were as helpless as the

general staff of a rampaging (to rampage [rжm’peıdG] – неистовствовать,

буйствовать), looting army whose field officers refuse to follow orders.

This lack of protection did not hurt the Corleone Family as much as it did their

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opponents. The Corleone group depended on gambling for most of its income, and was

hit especially hard in its "numbers" or "policy" branch of operations. The runners who

picked up the action were swept into police nets and usually given a medium

shellacking (полное поражение; основательная порка) before being booked. Even

some of the "banks" were located and raided, with heavy financial loss. The

"bankers," .90 calibers in their own right, complained to the caporegimes , who brought

their complaints to the family council table. But there was nothing to be done. The

bankers were told to go out of business. Local Negro free-lancers were allowed to take

over the operation in Harlem, the richest territory, and they operated in such scattered

fashion that the police found it hard to pin them down.

After the death of Captain McCluskey, some newspapers printed stories involving him

with Sollozzo. They published proof that McCluskey had received large sums of money

in cash, shortly before his death. These stories had been planted by Hagen, the

information supplied by him. The Police Department refused to confirm or deny these

stories, but they were taking effect. The police force got the word through informers,

through police on the Family payroll, that McCluskey had been a rogue cop

(продажный полицейский; rogue [r∂ug] – жулик, мошенник).

Not that he had taken money or clean graft (взятка, подкуп), there was no rank-and-

file onus to that (за это бы никто не бросил в него камень; rank-and-file – члены