by Mario Puzo
“No, Pop,” Sonny said, and then, finally, his eyes met his father’s eyes. “No,” he repeated. “I don’t want that.”
“Good,” Vito said, and he clapped Sonny on the back. “Let’s go see how our furnace is doing.”
In the basement, at the bottom of a flight of wooden steps, Vito and Sonny found the furnace taken apart into dozens of pieces that were spread around on the concrete floor. Light came into the damp, enclosed space through a series of narrow windows at ground level. A line of round metal poles ran along the center of the room from the concrete floor to a wooden supporting beam eight feet above. Eddie Veltri sat on a stool under one of the windows with a newspaper in his hands. When he saw Sonny and Vito, he smacked the paper. “Hey, Vito,” he said. “Did you see Ruth picked the Senators to beat the Giants in the series?”
Vito had no interest in baseball or any other sport, except where they affected his gambling businesses. “So?” he said to the two workers, who appeared to be packing up their tools. “Did we pass the inspection?”
“With flying colors,” the bigger of the two men said. They were both bruisers, a couple of burly guys who looked like they should be somebody’s bodyguards and not furnace repairmen.
“And we don’t owe you anything?” Vito said.
“Not a thing,” the second guy said. He had grease on his face and a bright shock of blond hair sticking out from under the cap he had just settled onto his head.
Vito was about to give them a tip when the first guy put his cap on and picked up his toolbox.
Vito said, “Are you taking a break?”
They both looked surprised. “Nah,” the bigger of the two said, “we’re done. You’re all set.”
Sonny said, “What the hell do you mean, we’re ‘all set’?” When he took a step toward the two workmen, Vito placed a hand on his chest.
Eddie Veltri put the newspaper down.
Vito said, “Who’s going to put the furnace back together?”
“That ain’t our job,” the blond one said.
The bigger guy looked at the various pieces of the furnace spread around on the floor and said, “Anybody around here will charge you two hundred bucks or more to put this furnace back together. But seeing you didn’t understand the expense involved in an inspection, me and my buddy here, we’ll do it for…” He again looked over the furnace pieces, as if working out an estimate. “We can do it for, say, a hundred and fifty bucks.”
“V’fancul’!” Sonny said, and he looked at his father.
Vito glanced over to Eddie, who had a big grin on his face. Vito laughed and said, “A hundred and fifty bucks, you say?”
“What are you laughing at?” the guy said, and he looked over to Eddie and then Sonny as if sizing them up. “We’re giving you a bargain,” he said. “This ain’t our job. We’re trying to be nice guys.”
Sonny said, “These mugs need to take a beatin’, Pop.”
The big guy’s face turned red. “You’re going to give me a beatin’, you fuckin wop?” He opened his toolbox and took out a long, heavy wrench.
Vito moved one hand only slightly, a gesture Eddie Veltri alone saw. Eddie took his hand out of his jacket.
“Just ’cause you’re a bunch of ignorant fuckin’ dagos, don’t mean we have to put your furnace back together for free. Capisc’?” he said.
Sonny lunged for the guy, and Vito grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. “Pop!” Sonny yelled. He seemed both furious at being held back and shocked at his father’s strength.
Vito said, calmly, “Shut up, Santino, and go stand by the stairs.”
“Son of a bitch,” Sonny said, but when Vito raised his finger, he went and stood by the stairs.
The blond guy laughed and said, “Santino,” as if the name were some kind of a joke. “Good you put a muzzle on him,” he said to Vito. “Here we are tryin’ to do you a favor and that’s the way he acts?” He appeared to be struggling mightily to keep himself under control. “You fuckin’ wops,” he said, losing the battle. “They ought to send you all back to fuckin’ Italy and your fuckin’ pope.”
Eddie shielded his eyes, as if he was both amused and afraid to see what would happen next.
Vito put his hands up. “Don’t get upset, please,” he said. “I see how it is. You’re trying to do us a favor, and here, my son Santino, he abuses you. You have to forgive him.” He pointed to Sonny. “He has a terrible temper. It keeps him from using his head.”
Sonny climbed up the stairs and out of the basement, mumbling to himself.
Vito watched him till he disappeared and then turned back to the workers. “Please put the furnace back together,” he said. “I’ll send somebody down with the money.”
“With you people,” the guy said, “we got to have the money in advance.”
“That’s all right,” Vito said. “Relax, have a cigarette, and I’ll send somebody down in a minute with your money.”
“Okay,” the guy said. He glanced behind him to Eddie. “Now you’re acting civilized.” He went to his toolbox, tossed the wrench down, and found a pack of Wings. He offered one to his buddy.
Upstairs, just outside the basement door, Vito found Sonny waiting. He slapped him gently on the cheek, “That temper of yours, Sonny,” he said. “When are you going to learn?” He took him by the arm and led him out the door, where the shadows of the wall had grown longer and were stretching through the yards to the houses and beyond. It was colder, too, and Vito pulled up the zipper on his sweater.
Sonny said, “Pop, that’s a con. You’re not really gonna pay those giamopes?”
Vito put his arm around Sonny and directed him to the yard behind the main house, where he saw Clemenza talking to Richie Gatto and Al Hats. “I’m going to send Clemenza down to the basement and ask him to have a talk with those two gentlemen. I think after he has a talk with them, they’ll decide not to charge us for putting the furnace back together.”
Sonny scratched the back of his neck and then smiled. “You think maybe they might apologize for all the dago crap too?”
“Why, Sonny?” Vito seemed surprised. “Does it matter to you what people like that say about us?”
Sonny thought about it and said, “Not really. I guess not.”
“Good,” Vito said. He took Sonny by the hair and shook him. “You have to learn,” he said, and he patted Sonny on the back. “Let’s put it this way,” he added. “I think our two repairmen friends down in the basement, I think they’re going to regret having spoken out of anger.”
Sonny looked back to the house, as if he might be able to see through the walls and into the basement.
“Maybe that’s something you should learn too,” Vito said.
“What?” Sonny asked.
Vito motioned for Clemenza to come to him. While the big man hurried over, Vito slapped Sonny again, affectionately, on the cheek. “Sonny, Sonny,” he said.
Hooks pulled his car up to the trees, where JoJo was parked mostly out of sight, behind a pair of big oaks, keeping watch on Shore Road. JoJo had a newspaper in his lap and a chopper on the seat beside him. Around them, a relentless wind blew through the woods and brought down a steady rain of red and gold and orange leaves. When Hooks rolled down his window, cold air rushed through the car. Luca, sitting beside Hooks, pulled his jacket tight to his neck. The wind was whipping up waves on Little Neck Bay, and the sound of water lapping at the shore mixed with the sound of the wind. Someone somewhere was burning leaves, and though there was no smoke visible, the smell was unmistakable. It was late in the afternoon and the sun glowed reddish through the trees.
JoJo rolled down his window and nodded to Hooks and Luca.
Hooks said, “I’ll send Paulie out in a little while.”
“Good,” JoJo said. “I’m so fuckin’ bored out here I’m about to shoot myself and save everyone the trouble.”
Hooks laughed and looked at Luca, who remained solemn. “I’ll send him out,” Hooks said, and he rolled up th
e window.
In the farmhouse driveway, Hooks cut the engine and turned to Luca before he could get out of the car. “Listen,” he said, “Luca, before we go in…”
“Yeah?” Luca said. He winced and pinched his nose. “Another headache,” he said.
Hooks said, “I think there’s some aspirin—”
“Aspirin don’t do a thing,” Luca said. “What is it?”
“It’s the boys,” Hooks said. “They’re nervous.”
“What about? The O’Rourkes?” Luca took his hat from the seat beside him and placed it carefully on his head.
“The O’Rourkes,” Hooks said, “Sure. But more Mariposa and Cinquemani.”
“What about ’em?”
“What about ’em,” Hooks repeated. “Word’s all over LaConti took a dive out a window naked.”
“I heard,” Luca said. “So? LaConti’s been a dead man for months. The news just caught up with him is all.”
“Yeah,” Hooks said, “but now that LaConti’s out of the way, the guys are worried. Cinquemani’s not forgetting about us. Mariposa’s not gonna forget about the hooch. And now we got the O’Rourkes on our back on top of it.”
Luca smiled and looked amused for the first time since he’d gotten into the car back in the Bronx. “Listen,” he said. “First of all, Giuseppe and his boys are gonna have their hands full dealing with LaConti’s organization. Think about it, Hooks.” He took his hat off and blocked it. “We got one little bank and a handful of runners. How much trouble is that?”
“Jesus Christ,” Hooks said, like he didn’t want to think about it.
“LaConti’s organization is huge,” Luca said. “LaConti’s people are not all happy about going to work for Giuseppe from what I hear, and now he tosses Rosario out a window naked? You think maybe some of Rosario’s boys are gonna be causing him some trouble? Listen,” he said again, “Giuseppe and his capos are gonna be busy for a long time tryin’ to get everything runnin’. You want my opinion, they’re not gonna pull this off. You watch. Giuseppe bit off more than he can chew.” Luca put his hat back on. “But what the hell,” he said, “if Tomasino or Giuseppe or anybody else comes after us, I’ll kill ’em. Just like I’m gonna kill Willie O’Rourke. Right?”
“Boss,” Hooks said, and he looked away, out the window at the rain of leaves falling on the hood of the car, “you can’t kill everybody.”
“Sure I can,” Luca said, and he leaned away from Hooks, looking him over. “Are you okay with that, Luigi?”
Hooks said, “Nobody calls me Luigi anymore.”
Luca repeated, “Are you okay with that, Luigi?”
“Hey,” Hooks said, and he faced Luca. “You know I’m your man.”
Luca watched Hooks in the quiet of the car and then sighed as if he were tired. He pinched his nose again. “Look,” he said, “we’ll lay low out here till we find out how Mariposa and Cinquemani want to play this. Meanwhile, I’m gonna kill Willie O’Rourke and beat some sense into the hard heads of the rest of those micks. That’s the plan,” he said, and he looked out the window at the woods, as if thinking things over. “You didn’t recognize any of the others?” he asked. “The ones that hit the bank?”
“They had their faces covered,” Hooks said.
“Don’t matter,” Luca said, as if talking to himself.
“What about Kelly?” Hooks asked. “How’s she gonna feel about you killin’ her brother?”
Luca shrugged as if the question hadn’t occurred to him. “There’s no love lost between her and her brothers.”
“Still,” Hooks said.
Luca considered the question. “She doesn’t need to know anything for now.” Before he got out of the car, he shook his head as if having to think about Kelly annoyed him.
Inside the farmhouse, Vinnie and Paulie were playing blackjack at the kitchen table, while Kelly stood over the stove watching a pot of coffee perk. The boys had their shirt collars open and their sleeves rolled up. Kelly was still in her pajamas. In the basement, the furnace roared and groaned while the radiators throughout the house banged and clanked and pumped out heat.
“Christ,” Hooks said, as soon as he walked through the door, “it’s like a sauna in here.”
“Either that or freeze,” Kelly said, swiveling around at the stove. “Luca!” she said, as soon as he came through the door behind Hooks. “You gotta get me out of here. I’m losing my mind.”
Luca ignored her and sat down at the table next to Paulie. He tossed his hat onto a peg by the living room entrance, where the rest of the hats were hanging. “What are you guys playin’?” he asked. “Blackjack?”
Hooks stood behind Paulie. “Go take over from JoJo,” he said. “He’s threatenin’ to shoot himself.”
Paulie folded his cards and put them on top of the deck in the center of the table.
Luca pulled the deck to him and Vinnie tossed him his cards.
Hooks said to Paulie, “I’ll take over from you in a couple of hours.”
Kelly poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table next to Luca, who was shuffling the deck. She found a red pill in her pocket and swallowed it with a sip of coffee. Hooks took Paulie’s seat.
Luca said to the boys, “Seven-card stud? Table stakes, no limit?”
“Sure,” Hooks said. He took his wallet out and counted through the bills. “Two hundred good?” He put the cash on the table.
“I got it,” Vinnie said, and counted out a stack of twenties and placed them in front of him on the table.
“Good,” Luca said.
“Luca…” Kelly spun her chair around to face him. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were bloodshot. Her face was mostly healed—the swelling had disappeared—but the skin under her eyes was still discolored. “I’m serious, Luca,” she said. “I haven’t been out of this godforsaken place in weeks. I gotta get out of here. You gotta take me dancin’ or to a movie, something.”
Luca watched Paulie go out the kitchen door, and then he put the deck down in the center of the table. To the boys he said, “You want some coffee?” To Kelly he said, “Did you make enough for everybody?”
“Sure,” Kelly said. “I made a full pot.”
“Have some coffee,” Luca said to the boys, and then he got up, took Kelly by the arm, and led her upstairs to the bedroom, where he closed the door behind them.
Kelly threw herself on the bed. “Luca,” she said, “I can’t stand it.” She glanced at the window when a gust of wind rattled the panes. “You got me locked up here day and night for weeks now. I’m going crazy. You gotta at least take me out sometimes. You can’t keep me locked up like this.”
Luca sat on the foot of the bed and took a vial of pills out of his pocket. He flipped the cap off and popped two into his mouth.
Kelly pulled herself up to her knees. “Which ones are those?”
Luca looked at the bottle. “The green ones,” he said. He closed his eyes and touched his temples with his fingertips. “My head is killing me again.”
Kelly ran her fingers through Luca’s hair and massaged his scalp. “Luca, honey,” she said, “you need to see a doctor. You get those headaches all the time now.”
“I’ve had headaches like this since I was a kid,” Luca said, dismissing her concern.
“Still,” Kelly said. She kissed him on the cheek. “Can I have a couple?” she asked.
“Couple of the green ones?” Luca asked.
“Yeah,” Kelly said. “The green ones make me feel swell.”
“I thought you wanted to go out.”
“I do!” Kelly said, and she shook Luca’s shoulder. “Let’s go out someplace fancy, like the Cotton Club.”
“The Cotton Club…” Luca shook out two pills for Kelly and took another one himself.
“Can we, Luca?” She threw the pills into her mouth and swallowed, and then wrapped her arms around one of Luca’s arms. “Can we go out to the Cotton Club?”
“Sure,” he said, and he gave her a third pill.
Kelly looked at the pill warily. “You sure it’s okay for me to take three?” she asked. “Plus the red one I just took?”
“I look like a doctor?” Luca said. “Take it or don’t take it.” He got up and started for the door.
“We’re not going to the Cotton Club,” Kelly said, kneeling and holding the pill in the palm of her hand. “You’re gonna play poker all night, aren’t you?”
“We’ll go to the Cotton Club,” Luca said. “I’ll come up for you later.”
“Sure,” Kelly said, and she popped the third pill into her mouth and chewed it. “Luca,” she said, “you got me stuck here day and night in this rattrap.”
Luca said, “You don’t like it here, Kelly?”
“No, I don’t,” Kelly said, and she covered her eyes. Into the darkness, she said, “When you gonna kill Tom Hagen, Luca?” Her arms, suddenly too heavy to hold up, fell to her side. She tried to say, “You’re not letting him get away with what he did, are you?” but she didn’t think those were the words that came out. She wasn’t sure any words at all came out beyond a series of slurred syllables.
“He’s on my list,” Luca said, halfway out the door. “In time,” he added.
Kelly fell onto her side and curled up in a ball. “Nobody’s tougher than you, Luca,” she tried to say, but nothing came out at all. She closed her eyes and let herself drift away.
In the kitchen, Luca found the boys drinking coffee and eating chocolate biscotti. The biscotti were in a white paper bag in the center of the table. He took one and said, “Where were we?”
“Table stakes, pot limit, two hundred,” Hooks said, and he reached for the cards.
Vinnie, sitting next to JoJo, had his hand down his pants, scratching.