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in that time Mussolini came to power。 The dictator decreed that the dam must be built。 It was not。 The dictator had known that the Mafia would be a threat to his regime； forming what amounted to a separate authority from his own。 He gave full powers to a high police official； who promptly solved the problem by throwing everybody into jail or deporting them to penal work islands。 In a few short years he had broken the power of the Mafia； simply by arbitrarily arresting anyone even suspected of being a mafioso。 And so also brought ruin to a great many innocent families。
The Bocchicchios had been rash enough to resort to force against this unlimited power。 Half of the men were killed in armed bat； the other half deported to penal island colonies。 There were only a handful left when arrangements were made for them to emigrate to America via the clandestine underground route of jumping ship through Canada。 There were almost twenty immigrants and they settled in a small town not far from New York City； in the Hudson Valley； where by starting at the very bottom they worked their way up to owning a garbage hauling firm and their own trucks。 They became prosperous because they had no petition。 They had no petition because petitors found their trucks burned and sabotaged。 One persistent fellow who undercut prices was found buried in the garbage he had picked up during the day； smothered to death。
But as the men married； to Sicilian girls； needless to say； children came； and the garbage business though providing a living； was not really enough to pay for the finer things America had to offer。 And so； as a diversification； the Bocchicchio Family became negotiators and hostages in the peace efforts of warring Mafia families。
A strain of stupidity ran through the Bocchicchio clan； or perhaps they were just primitive。 In any case they recognized their limitations and knew they could not pete with other Mafia families in the struggle to organize and control more sophisticated business structures like prostitution； gambling； dope and public fraud。 They were straight…from…the…shoulder people who could offer a gift to an ordinary patrolman but did not know how to approach a political bagman。 They had only two assets。 Their honor and their ferocity。
A Bocchicchio never lied； never mitted an act of treachery。 Such behavior was too plicated。 Also； a Bocchicchio never forgot an injury and never left it unavenged no matter what the cost。 And so by accident they stumbled into what would prove to be their most lucrative profession。
When warring families wanted to make peace and arrange a parley； the Bocchicchio clan was contacted。 The head of the clan would handle the initial negotiations and arrange for the necessary hostages。 For instance； when Michael had gone to meet Sollozzo； a Bocchicchio had been left with the Corleone Family as surety for Michael's safety； the service paid for by Sollozzo。 If Michael were killed by Sollozzo； then the Bocchicchio male hostage held by the Corleone Family would be killed by the Corleones。 In this case the Bocchicchios would take their vengeance on Sollozzo as the source of their clansman's death。 Since the Bocchicchios were so primitive； they never let anything； any kind of punishment； stand in their way of vengeance。 They would give up their own lives and there was no protection against them if they were betrayed。 A Bocchicchio hostage was gilt…edged insurance。
And so now when Don Corleone employed the Bocchicchios as negotiators and arranged for them to supply hostages for all the Families to e to the peace meeting； there could be no question as to his sincerity。 There could be no question of treachery。 The meeting would be safe as wedding。
Hostages given； the meeting took place in the director's conference room of a small mercial bank whose president was indebted to Don Corleone and indeed some of whose stock belonged to Don Corleone though it was in the president's name。 The president always treasured that moment when he had offered to give Don Corleone a written document proving his ownership of the shares； to preclude any treachery。 Don Corleone had been horrified。 〃I would trust you with my whole fortune；〃 he told the president。 〃I would trust you with my life and the welfare of my children。 It is inconceivable to me that you would ever trick me or otherwise betray me。 My whole world； all my faith in my judgment of human character would collapse。 Of course I have my own written records so that if something should happen to me my heirs would know that you hold something in trust for them。 But I know that even if I were not here in this world to guard the interests of my children； you would be faithful to their needs。〃
The president of the bank； though not Sicilian； was a man of tender sensibilities。 He understood the Don perfectly。 Now the Godfather's request was the president's mand and so on a Saturday afternoon； the executive suite of the bank； the inference room with its deep leather chairs； its absolute privacy； was made available to the Families。
Security at the bank was taken over by a small army of handpicked men wearing bank guard uniforms。 At ten o'clock on a Saturday morning the conference room began to fill up。 Besides the Five Families of New York； there were representatives from ten other Families across the country； with the exception of Chicago； that black sheep of their world。 They had given up trying to civilize Chicago； and they saw no point in including those mad dogs in this important conference。
A bar had been set up and a small buffet。 Each representative to the conference had been allowed one aide。 Most of the Dons had brought their Consiglieres as aides so there were paratively few young men in the room。 Tom Hagen was one of those young men and the only one who was not Sicilian。 He was an object of curiosity； a freak。
Hagen knew his manners。 He did not speak； he did not smile。 He waited on his boss； Don Corleone； with all the respect of a favorite earl waiting on his king； bringing him a cold drink； lighting his cigar； positioning his ashtray； with respect but no obsequiousness。
Hagen was the only one in that room who knew the identity of the portraits hanging on the dark paneled walls。 They were mostly portraits of fabulous financial figures done in rich oils。 One was of Secretary of the Treasury Hamilton。 Hagen could not help thinking that Hamilton might have approved of this peace meeting being held in a banking institution。 Nothing was more calming； more conducive to pure reason； than the atmosphere of money。
The arrival time had been staggered for between nine…thirty to ten A。M。 Don Corleone； in a sense the host since he had initiated the peace talks； had been the first to arrive； one of his many virtues was punctuality。 The next to arrive was Carlo Tramonti； who had made the southern part of the United States his territory。 He was an impressively handsome middle…aged man； tall for a Sicilian； with a very deep sunburn； exquisitely tailored and barbered。 He did not look Italian； he looked more like one of those pictures in the magazines of millionaire fishermen lolling on their yachts。 The Tramonti Family earned its livelihood from gambling； and no one meeting their Don would ever guess with what ferocity he had won his empire。
Emigrating from Sicily as a small boy； he had settled in Florida and grown to manhood there； employed by the American syndicate of Southern small…town politicians who controlled gambling。 These were very tough men backed up by very tough police officials and they never suspected that they could be overthrown by such a greenhorn immigrant。 They were unprepared for his ferocity and could not match it simply because the rewards being fought over were not； to their minds； worth so much bloodshed。 Tramonti won over the police with bigger shares of the gross； he exterminated those redneck hooligans who ran their operation with such a plete lack of imagination。 It was Tramonti who opened ties with Cuba and the Batista regime and eventually poured money into the pleasure resorts of Havana gambling houses； whorehouses； to lure gamblers from the American mainland。 Tramonti was now a millionaire many times over and owned one of the most luxurious hotels in Miami Beach。
When he came into the conference room followed by his aide； an equally sunburned Consigliere； Tramonti embraced Don Corleone； made a face of sympathy to show he sorrowed for the dead son。
Other Dons were arriving。 They all knew each other； they had met over the years； either socially or when in the pursuit of their businesses。 They had always showed each other professional courtesies and in their younger； leaner days had done each other little services。 The second Don to arrive was Joseph Zaluchi from Detroit。 The Zaluchi Family； under appropriate disguises and covers； owned one of the horse…racing tracks in the Detroit area。 They also owned a good part of the gambling。 Zaluchi was a moon…faced； amiable…looking man who lived in a one…hundred…thousand…dollar house in the fashionable Grosse Pointe section of Detroit。 One of his sons had married into an old； well…known American family。 Zaluchi； like Don Corleone； was sophisticated。 Detroit had the lowest incidence of physical violence of any of the cities controlled by the Families； there had been only two execution in the last three years in that city。 He disapproved of traffic in drugs。
Zaluchi had brought his Consigliere with him and both men came to Don Corleone to embrace him。 Zaluchi had a booming American voice with only the slightest trace of an scent。 He was conservatively dressed； very businessman； and with a hearty goodwill to match。 He said to Don Corleone； 〃Only your voice could have brought me here。〃 Don Corleone bowed his head in thanks。 He could count on Zaluchi for support。
The next two Dons to arrive were from the West Coast； motoring from there in the same car since they worked together closely in any case。 They were Frank Falcone and Anthony Molinari and both were younger than any of the other men who would e to the meeting； in their early forties。 They were dressed a little more informally than the others； there was a touch of Hollywood in their style and they were a little more friendly than necessary。 Frank Falcone controlled the movie unions and the gambling at the studios plus a plex of pipeline prostitution that supplied girls to the whorehouses of the states in the Far West。 It was not in the realm of possibility for any Don to bee 〃show biz〃 but Falcone had just a touch。 His fellow Dons distrusted him accordingly。
Anthony Molinari controlled the waterfronts of San Francisco and was preeminent in the empire of sports gambling。 He came of Italian fishermen stock and owned the best San Francisco sea food restaurant； in which he took such pride that the legend had it he lost money on the enterprise by giving too good value for the prices charged。 He had the impassive face of the professional gambler and it was known that he also had something to do with dope smuggling over the Mexican border and from the ships plying the lanes of the oriental oceans。 Their aides were young； powerfully built men； obviously not counselors but bodyguards； though they would not dare to carry arms to this meeting。 It was general knowledge that these bodyguards knew karate； a fact that amused the other Dons but did not alarm them in the slightest； no more than if the California Dons had e wearing amulets blessed by the Pope。 Though it must be noted that some of these men were religious and believed in God。
Next arrived the representative from the Family in Boston。 This was the only Don who did not have the respect of his fellows。 He was known as a man who did not do right by his 〃people；〃 who cheated them unmercifully。 This could be forgiven； each man measures his own greed。 What could not be forgiven was that he could not keep order in his empire。 The Boston area had too many murders； too many petty wars for power； too many unsupported free…lance activities； it flouted the law too brazenly。 If the Chicago Mafia were savages； then the Boston people were gavones； or uncouth louts； ruffians。 The Boston Don's name was Domenick Panza。 He was s