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pezzonovante, Hagen wondered. Advisor to the President, head of the biggest
movie studio in the world. Definitely the Don should get into the movie
business. And the guy was taking his words at their sentimental face value. He
was not getting the message.

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“Thank you for the dinner and a pleasant evening,” Hagen said.
“Could you give me transportation to the airport? I don’t think I’ll spend the
night.” He smiled coldly at Woltz. “Mr. Corleone is a man who insists on
hearing bad news at once.”
While waiting in the floodlit colonnade of the mansion for his car,
Hagen saw two women about to enter a long limousine already parked in the
driveway. They were the beautiful twelve-year-old blond girl and her mother he
had seen in Woltz’s office that morning. But now the girl’s exquisitely cut
mouth seemed to have smeared into a thick, pink mass. Her sea-blue eyes were
filmed over and when she walked down the steps toward the open car her long
legs tottered like a crippled foal’s. Her mother supported the child, helping her
into the car, hissing commands into her ear. The mother’s head turned for a
quick furtive look at Hagen and he saw in her eyes a burning, hawk-like triumph.
Then she too disappeared into the limousine.
So that was why he hadn’t got the plane ride from Los Angeles, Hagen
thought. The girl and her mother had made the trip with the movie producer.
That had given Woltz enough time to relax before dinner and do the job on the
little kid. And Johnny wanted to live in this world? Good luck to him, and good
luck to Woltz.
Paulie Gatto hated quickie jobs, especially when they involved
violence. He liked to plan things ahead. And something like tonight, even though
it was punk stuff, could turn into serious business if somebody made a mistake.
Now, sipping his beer, he glanced around, checking how the two young punks
were making out with the two little tramps at the bar.
Paulie Gatto knew everything there was to know about those two
punks. Their names were Jerry Wagner and Kevin Moonan. They were both
about twenty years old, good-looking, brown-haired, tall, well-built. Both were
due to go back to college out of town in two weeks, both had fathers with
political influence and this, with their college student classification, had so far
kept them out of the draft. They were both also under suspended sentences for
assaulting the daughter of Amerigo Bonasera. The lousy bastards, Paulie Gatto
thought. Draft dodging, violating their probation by drinking in a bar after
midnight, chasing floozies. Young punks. Paulie Gatto had been deferred from
the draft himself because his doctor had furnished the draft board with
documents showing that this patient, male, white, aged twenty-six, unmarried,
had received electrical shock treatments for a mental condition. All false, of

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course, but Paulie Gatto felt that he had earned his draft exemption. It had been
arranged by Clemenza after Gatto had “made his bones” in the family business.
It was Clemenza who had told him that this job must be rushed
through, before the boys went to college. Why the hell did it have to be done in
New York, Gatto wondered. Clemenza was always giving extra orders instead of
just giving out the job. Now if those two little tramps walked out with the punks
it would be another night wasted.
He could hear one of the girls laughing and saying, “ Are you crazy,
Jerry? I’m not going in any car with you. I don’t want to wind up in the hospital
like that other poor girl.” Her voice was spitefully rich with satisfaction. That
was enough for Gat to. He finished up his beer and walked out into the dark
street. Perfect. It was after midnight. There was only one other bar that showed
light. The rest of the stores were closed. The precinct patrol car had been taken
care of by Clemenza. They wouldn’t be around that way until they got a radio
call and then they’d come slow.
He leaned against the four-door Chevy sedan. In the back seat two
men were sitting, almost invisible, although they were very big men. Paulie said,
“Take them when they come out.”
He still thought it had all been set up too fast. Clemenza had given him
copies of the police mug shots of the two punks, the dope on where the punks
went drinking every night to pick up bar girls. Paulie had recruited two of the
strong-arms in the family and fingered the punks for them. He had also given
them their instructions. No blows on the top or the back of the head, there was to
be no accidental fatality. Other than that they could go as far as they liked. He
had given them only one warning: “If those punks get out of the hospital in less
than a month, you guys go back to driving trucks.”
The two big men were getting out of the car. They were both ex-
boxers who had never made it past the small clubs and had been fixed up by
Sonny Corleone with a little loanshark action so that they could make a decent
living. They were, naturally, anxious to show their gratitude.
When Jerry Wagner and Kevin Moonan came out of the bar they were
perfect setups. The bar girl’s taunts had left their adolescent vanity prickly.
Paulie Gat to, leaning against the fender of his car, called out to them with a
teasing laugh, “Hey, Casanova, those broads really brushed you off.”
The two young men turned on him with delight. Paulie Gatto looked
like a perfect outlet for their humiliation. Ferret-faced, short, slightly built and a
wise guy in the bargain. They pounced on him eagerly and immediately found

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their arms pinned by two men grabbing them from behind. At the same moment
Paulie Gatto had slipped onto his right hand a specially made set of brass
knuckles studded with one-sixteenth-inch iron spikes. His timing was good, he
worked out in the gym three times a week. He smashed the punk named Wagner
right on the nose. The man holding Wagner lifted him up off the ground and
Paulie swung his arm, uppercutting into the perfectly positioned groin. Wagner
went limp and the big man dropped him. This had taken no more than six
seconds.
Now both of them turned their attention to Kevin Moonan, who was
trying to shout. The man holding him from behind did so easily with one huge
muscled arm. The other hand he put around Moonan’s throat to cut off any
sound.
Paulie Gatto jumped into the car and started the motor. The two big
men were beating Moonan to jelly. They did so with frightening deliberation, as
if they had all the time in the world. They did not throw punches in flurries but
in timed, slow-motion sequences that carried the full weight of their massive
bodies. Each blow landed with a splat of flesh splitting open. Gatto got a
glimpse of Moonan’s face. It was unrecognizable. The two men left Moonan
lying on the sidewalk and turned their attention to Wagner. Wagner was trying to
get to his feet and he started to scream for help. Someone came out of the bar
and the two men had to work faster now. They clubbed Wagner to his knees.
One of the men took his arm and twisted it, then kicked him in the spine. There
was a cracking sound and Wagner’s scream of agony brought windows open all
along the street. The two men worked very quickly. One of them held Wagner
up by using his two hands around Wagner’s head like a vise. The other man
smashed his huge fist into the fixed target. There were more people coming out
of the bar but none tried to interfere. Paulie Gatto yelled, “Come on, enough.”
The two big men jumped into the car and Paulie gunned it away, Somebody
would describe the car and read the license plates but it didn’t matter. It was a
stolen California plate and there were one hundred thousand black Chevy sedans
in New York City.

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Chapter 2
Tom Hagen went to his law office in the city on Thursday morning. He
planned to catch up on his paper work so as to have everything cleared away for
the meeting with Virgil Sollozzo on Friday. A meeting of such importance that
he had asked the Don for a full evening of talk to prepare for the proposition
they knew Sollozzo would offer the family business. Hagen wanted to have all
little details cleared away so that he could go to that preparatory meeting with an
unencumbered mind.
The Don had not seemed surprised when Hagen returned from
California late Tuesday evening and told him the results of the negotiations with
Woltz. He had made Hagen go over every detail and grimaced with distaste
when Hagen told about the beautiful little girl and her mother. He had murmured