按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
By this time Hagen had e into the room。 The Don was already under a sedated sleep in the bedroom above and Hagen wanted to keep an eye on Sonny in all crises。 The two interior bodyguards were also in the kitchen。 Everybody was watching Sonny as he listened on the phone。
There was no question that the violence in Sonny Corleone's nature rose from some deep mysterious physical well。 As they watched they could actually see the blood rushing to his heavily corded neck； could see the eyes film with hatred； the separate features of his face tightening； growing pinched； then his face took on the grayish hue of a sick man fighting off some sort of death； except that the adrenaline pumping through his body made his hands tremble。 But his voice was controlled； pitched low； as he told his sister； 〃You wait there。 You just wait there。〃 He hung up the phone。
He stood there for a moment quite stunned with his own rage； then he said； 〃The fucking sonofabitch； the fucking sonofabitch。〃 He ran out of the house。
Hagen knew the look on Sonny's face； all reasoning power had left him。 At this moment Sonny was capable of anything。 Hagen also knew that the ride into the city would cool Sonny off； make him more rational。 But that rationality might make him even more dangerous； though the rationality would enable him to protect himself against the consequences of his rage。 Hagen heard the car motor roaring into life and he said to the two bodyguards； 〃Go after him。〃
Then he went to the phone and made some calls。 He arranged for some men of Sonny's regime living in the city to go up to Carlo Rizzi's apartment and get Carlo out of there。 Other men would stay with Connie until Sonny arrived。 He was taking a chance； thwarting Sonny； but he knew the Don would back him up。 He was afraid that Sonny might kill Carlo in front of witnesses。 He did not expect trouble from the enemy。 The Five Families had been quiet too long and obviously were looking for peace of some kind。
By the time Sonny roared out of the mall in his Buick； he had already regained； partly； his senses。 He noted the two bodyguards getting into a car to follow him and approved。 He expected no danger； the Five Families had quit counterattacking； were not really fighting anymore。 He had grabbed his jacket in the foyer and there was a gun in a secret dashboard partment of the car； the car registered in the name of a member of his regime； so that he personally could not get into any legal trouble。 But he did not anticipate needing any weapon。 He did not even know what he was going to do with Carlo Rizzi。
Now that he had a chance to think； Sonny knew he could not kill the father of an unborn child； and that father his sister's husband。 Not over a domestic spat。 Except that it was not just a domestic spat。 Carlo was a bad guy and Sonny felt responsible that his sister had met the bastard through him。
The paradox in Sonny's violent nature was that he could not hit a woman and had never done so。 That he could not harm a child or anything helpless。 When Carlo had refused to fight back against him that day； it had kept Sonny from killing him； plete submission disarmed his violence。 As a boy； he had been truly tenderhearted。 That he had bee a murderer as a man was simply his destiny。
But he would settle this thing once and for all； Sonny thought； as he headed the Buick toward the causeway that would take him over the water from Long Beach to the parkways on the other side of Jones Beach。 He always used this route when he went to New York。 There was less traffic。
He decided he would send Connie home with the bodyguards and then he would have a session with his brotherin…law。 What would happen after that he didn't know。 If the bastard had really hurt Connie； he'd make a cripple out of the bastard。 But the wind ing over the causeway； the salty freshness of the air； cooled his anger。 He put the window down all the way。
He had taken the Jones Beach Causeway； as always； because it was usually deserted this time of night； at this time of year； and he could speed recklessly until he hit the parkways on the other side。 And even there traffic would be light。 The release of driving very fast would help dissipate what he knew was a dangerous tension。 He had already left his bodyguards car far behind。
The causeway was badly lit； there was not a single car。 Far ahead he saw the white cone of the manned tollbooth。
There were other tollbooths beside it but they were staffed only during the day； for heavier traffic。 Sonny started braking the Buick and at the same time searched his pockets for change。 He had none。 He reached for his wallet； flipped it open with one hand and fingered out a bill。 He came within the arcade of light and he saw to his mild surprise a car in the tollbooth slot blocking it； the driver obviously asking some sort of directions from the toll taker。 Sonny honked his horn and the other car obediently rolled through to let his car slide into the slot。
Sonny handed the toll taker the dollar bill and waited for his change。 He was in a hurry now to close the window。 The Atlantic Ocean air had chilled the whole car。 But the toll taker was fumbling with his change； the dumb son of a bitch actually dropped it。 Head and body disappeared as the toll man stooped down in his booth to pick up the money。
At that moment Sonny noticed that the other car had not kept going but had parked a few feet ahead； still blocking his way。 At that same moment his lateral vision caught sight of another man in the darkened tollbooth to his right。 But he did not have time to think about that because two men came out of the car parked in front and walked toward him。 The toll collector still had not appeared。 And then in the fraction of a second before anything actually happened； Santino Corleone knew he was a dead man。 And in that moment his mind was lucid； drained of all violence； as if the hidden fear finally real and present had purified him。
Even so； his huge body in a reflex for life crashed against the Buick door； bursting its lock。 The man in the darkened tollbooth opened fire and the shots caught Sonny Corleone in the head and neck as his massive frame spilled out of the car。 The two men in front held up their guns now； the man in the darkened tollbooth cut his fire； and Sonny's body sprawled on the asphalt with the legs still partly inside。 The two men each fired shots into Sonny's body； then kicked him in the face to disfigure his features even more； to show a mark made by a more personal human power。
Seconds afterward； all four men； the three actual assassins and the bogus toll collector； were in their car and speeding toward the Meadowbrook Parkway on the other side of Jones Beach。 Their pursuit was blocked by Sonny's car and body in the tollgate slot but when Sonny's bodyguards pulled up a few minutes later and saw his body lying there； they had no intention to pursue。 They swung their car around in a huge arc and returned to Long Beach。 At the first public phone off the causeway one of them hopped out and called Tom Hagen。 He was very curt and very brisk。 〃Sonny's dead； they got him at the Jones Beach toll。〃
Hagen's voice was perfectly calm。 〃OK；〃 he said。 〃Go to Clemenza's house and tell him to e here right away。 He'll tell you what to do。〃
Hagen had taken the call in the kitchen； with Mama Corleone bustling around preparing a snack for the arrival of her daughter。 He had kept his posure and the old woman had not noticed anything amiss。 Not that she could not have； if she wanted to； but in her life with the Don she had learned it was far wiser not to perceive。 That if it was necessary to know something painful； it would be told to her soon enough。 And if it was a pain that could be spared her； she could do without。 She was quite content not to share the pain of her men； after all did they share the pain of women？ Impassively she boiled her coffee and set the table with food。 In her experience pain and fear did not dull physical hunger； in her experience the taking of food dulled pain。 She would have been outraged if a doctor had tried to sedate her with a drug； but coffee and a crust of bread were another matter； she came； of course； from a more primitive culture。
And so she let Tom Hagen escape to his corner conference room and once in that room； Hagen began to tremble so violently he had to sit down with his legs squeezed together； his head hunched into his contracted shoulders； hands clasped together between his knees as if he were praying to the devil。
He was； he knew now； no fit Consigliere for a Family at war。 He had been fooled； faked out； by the Five Families and their seeming timidity。 They had remained quiet； laying their terrible ambush。 They had planned and waited； holding their bloody hands no matter what provocation they had been given。 They had waited to land one terrible blow。 And they had。 Old Genco Abbandando would never have fallen for it； he would have smelled a rat； he would have smoked them out； tripled his precautions。 And through all this Hagen felt his grief。 Sonny had been his true brother； his savior； his hero when they had been boys together。 Sonny had never been mean or bullying with him； had always treated him with affection； had taken him in his arms when Sollozzo had turned him loose。 Sonny's joy at that reunion had been real。 That he had grown up to be a cruel and violent and bloody man was； for Hagen； not relevant。
He had walked out of the kitchen because he knew he could never tell Mama Corleone about her son's death。 He had never thought of her as his mother as he thought of the Don as his father and Sonny as his brother。 His affection for her was like his affection for Freddie and Michael and Connie。 The affection for someone who has been kind but not loving。 But he could not tell her。 In a few short months she had lost all her sons； Freddie exiled to Nevada； Michael hiding for his life in Sicily； and now Santino dead。 Which of the three had she loved most of all？ She had never shown。
It was no more than a few minutes。 Hagen got control of himself again and picked up the phone。 He called Connie's number。 It rang for a long time before Connie answered in a whisper。
Hagen spoke to her gentiy。 〃Connie； this is Tom。 Wake your husband up； I have to talk to him。〃
Connie said in a low frightened voice； 〃Tom； is Sonny ing here？〃
〃No；〃 Hagen said。 〃Sonny's not ing there。 Don't worry about that。 Just wake Carlo up and tell him it's very important I speak to him。〃
Connie's voice was weepy。 〃Tom； he beat me up； I'm afraid he'll hurt me again if he knows I called home。〃
Hagen said gently； 〃He won't。 He'll talk to me and I'll straighten him out。 Everything will be OK。 Tell him it's very important； very； very important he e to the phone。 OK？〃
It was almost five minutes before Carlo's voice came over the phone； a voice half slurred by whiskey and sleep。 Hagen spoke sharply to make him alert。
〃Listen； Carlo；〃 he said； 〃I'm going to tell you something very shocking。 Now prepare yourself because when I tell it to you I want you to answer me very casually as if it's less than it is。 I told Connie it was important so you have to give her a story。 Tell her the Family has decided to move you both to one of the houses in the mall and to give you a big job。 That the Don has finally decided to give you a chance in the hope of making your home life better。 You got that？〃
There was a hopeful note in Carlo's voice as he answered； 〃Yeah； OK。〃
Hagen went on； 〃In a few minutes a couple of my men are going to knock on your door to take you away with them。 Tell them I want them to call me first。 Just tell them that。 Don't say anything else。 I'll instruct them to leave you there with Connie。 OK？〃
〃Yeah； yeah； I got it；〃 Carlo said。 His voice was excited。 The tension in Hagen's voice seemed to have finally alerted him that the news ing up was going to be really important。
Hagen gave it to him straight。 〃They killed Sonny tonight。 Don't say anything。 Connie called him while you were asleep and he was on his way over there； but I don't want her to know that； even if she guesses it； I don't want her to know it