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caporegimes; you’ll save a lot of bloodshed.”
Hagen held out his china cup for more whiskey. “I’ll try,” he said.
“But Sonny is strong-headed. And even Sonny won’t be able to call off Luca.
You have to worry about Luca. I’ll have to worry about Luca if I go for your
deal.”
Sollozzo said quietly, “I’ll take care of Luca. You take care of Sonny
and the other two kids. Listen, you can tell them that Freddie would have gotten
it today with his old man but my people had strict orders not to gun him. I didn’t
want any more hard feelings than necessary. You can tell them that, Freddie is
alive because of me.”
Finally Hagen’s mind was working. For the first time he really
believed that Sollozzo did not mean to kill him or hold him as a hostage. The
sudden relief from fear that flooded his body made him flush with shame.
Sollozzo watched him with a quiet understanding smile. Hagen began to think
things out. If he did not agree to argue Sollozzo’s case, he might be killed. But
then he realized that Sollozzo expected him only to present it and present it
properly, as he was bound to do as a responsible Consigliere. And now, thinking
about it, he also realized that Sollozzo was right. An unlimited war between the
Tattaglias and the Corleones must be avoided at all costs. The Corleones must
bury their dead and forget, make a deal. And then when the time was right they
could move against Sollozzo.
But glancing up, he realized that Sollozzo knew exactly what he was
thinking. The Turk was smiling. And then it struck Hagen. What had happened
to Luca Brasi that Sollozzo was so unconcerned? Had Luca made a deal? He
remembered that on the night Don Corleone had refused Sollozzo, Luca had
been summoned into the office for a private conference with the Don. But now
was not the time to worry about such details. He had to get back to the safety of
the Corleone Family fortress in Long Beach. “I’ll do my best,” he said to
Sollozzo. “I believe you’re right, it’s even what the Don would want us to do.”
Sollozzo nodded gravely. “Fine,” he said. “I don’t like bloodshed, I’m

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a businessman and blood costs too much money.” At that moment the phone
rang and one of the men sitting behind Hagen went to answer it. He listened and
then said curtly, “OK, I’ll tell him.” He hung up the phone, went to Sollozzo’s
side and whispered in the Turk’s ear. Hagen saw Sollozzo’s face go pale, his
eyes glitter with rage. He himself felt a thrill of fear. Sollozzo was looking at
him speculatively and suddenly Hagen knew that he was no longer going to be
set free. That something had happened that might mean his death. Sollozzo said,
“The old man is still alive. Five bullets in his Sicilian hide and he’s still alive.”
He gave a fatalistic shrug. “Bad luck,” he said to Hagen. “Bad luck for me. Bad
luck for you.”

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Chapter 4
When Michael Corleone arrived at his father’s house in Long Beach
he found the narrow entrance mouth of the mall blocked off with a link chain.
The mall itself was bright with the floodlights of all eight houses, outlining at
least ten cars parked along the curving cement walk.
Two men he didn’t know were leaning against the chain. One of them
asked in a Brooklyn accent, “Who’re you?”
He told them. Another man came out of the nearest house and peered
at his face. “That’s the Don’s kid,” he said. “I’ll bring him inside.” Mike
followed this man to his father’s house, where two men at the door let him and
his escort pass inside.
The house seemed to be full of men he didn’t know, until he went into
the living room. There Michael saw Tom Hagen’s wife, Theresa, sitting stiffly
on the sofa, smoking a cigarette. On the coffee table in front of her was a glass
of whiskey. On the other side of the sofa sat the bulky Clemenza. The