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 Gatto, 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 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.
1 Tom Hagen went to his law office in the city on Thursday morning. He planned to catch up on his paper work (нагнать /упущенное/; to catch up – быстро схватить, подхватить) 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 (чтобы подготовиться для предложения) 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 («с необремененным умом»; to encumber [ın’kLmb∂] – загромождать).
2 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 (с отвращением = от отвращения) when Hagen told about the beautiful little girl and her mother. He had murmured "infamita," his strongest disapproval (неодобрение). He has asked Hagen one final question. "Does this man have real balls (настоящие яйца = мужество, пойдет ли он до конца)?"
3 Hagen considered exactly (поразмыслил точно) what the Don meant by this question. Over the years he had learned that the Don's values (ценности: value [‘vælju:]) were so different from those of most people that his words also could have a different meaning. Did Woltz have character ([‘kærıkt∂])? Did he have a strong will (сильную волю)? He most certainly did, but that was not what the Don was asking. Did the movie producer have the courage not to be bluffed? Did he have the willingness to suffer heavy financial loss (понести тяжелую финансовую потерю; to suffer – страдать) delay on his movies would mean (которую будет означать отсрочка), the scandal of his big star exposed (выставленному напоказ) as a user of heroin? Again the answer was yes. But again this was not what the Don meant. Finally Hagen translated the question properly (как следует, верно) in his mind. Did Jack Woltz have the balls to risk everything, to run the chance (рискнуть: «подвергнуться возможности») of losing all on a matter of principle (ради принципа), on a matter of honor; for revenge (ради мести)?
4 Hagen smiled. He did it rarely but now he could not resist jesting with the Don (не мог удержаться от шутки, чтобы не пошутить; to resist – сопротивляться). "You're asking if he is a Sicilian." The Don nodded his head pleasantly, acknowledging the flattering witticism (признавая, подтверждая /одобрительно/ лестную остроту) and its truth. "No," Hagen said.
5 That had been all. The Don had pondered the question (размышлял) until the next day. On Wednesday afternoon he had called Hagen to his home and given him his instructions. The instructions had consumed (поглотили) the rest of Hagen's working day and left him dazed with admiration (изумленным от восхищения /Доном/; to daze – изумить, ошеломить). There was no question in his mind that the Don had solved the problem, that Woltz would call him this morning with the news that Johnny Fontane had the starring part in his new war movie.
6 At that moment the phone did ring but it was Amerigo Bonasera. The undertaker's voice was trembling with gratitude (дрожащим от благодарности). He wanted Hagen to convey (передать, выразить /чувства/ [k∂n’veı]) to the Don his undying friendship. The Don had only to call on him (пусть только позвонит ему). He, Amerigo Bonasera, would lay down his life (жизнь положит) for the blessed (ради благословенного; to bless – благославлять) Godfather. Hagen assured him that the Don would be told (что Дону будет сказано).
7 The Daily News had carried a middle-page spread (разворот) of Jerry Wagner and Kevin Moonan lying in the street. The photos were expertly gruesome («профессионально, умело» отвратительные, ужасные), they seemed to be pulps of human beings (каждый из них казался какой-то бесформенной массой, а не человеческим существом: «/из/ человеческого существа»; pulp – мягкая масса, мяготь). Miraculously (как ни удивительно, чудесным образом), said the News, they were both still alive though they would both be in the hospital for months and would require plastic surgery (им понадобятся пластические операции; to require – требовать; нуждаться в чем-либо). Hagen made a note to tell Clemenza that something should be done for Paulie Gatto. He seemed to know his job.
8 Hagen worked quickly and efficiently for the next three hours consolidating earning reports (объединяя отчеты о доходах) from the Don's real estate company (real estate – недвижимое имущество), his olive oil importing business and his construction firm (строительной фирмы). None of them were doing well (нигде дела не шли хорошо) but with the war over (с окончанием войны) they should all become rich producers. He had almost forgotten the Johnny Fontane problem when his secretary told him California was calling. He felt a little thrill (возбуждение, нервная дрожь, трепет) of anticipation (предчувствия) as he picked up the phone and said, "Hagen here."
9 The voice that came over the phone was unrecognizable with hate and passion. "You fucking bastard," Woltz screamed. "I'll have you all in jail for a hundred years. I'll spend every penny I have to get you (чтобы добраться до тебя). I'll get that Johnny Fontane's balls cut off (устрою, чтобы ему отрезали яйца), do you hear me, you guinea fuck?"
10 Hagen said kindly (любезным, вежливым голосом), "I'm German-Irish." There was a long pause and then a click (щелчок) of the phone being hung up (которую вешают). Hagen smiled. Not once (ни разу) had Woltz uttered a threat against Don Corleone himself. Genius had its rewards (гениальность имеет свои вознаграждения).
1 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.
2 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 "infamita," his strongest disapproval. He has asked Hagen one final question. "Does this man have real balls?"
3 Hagen considered exactly what the Don meant by this question. Over the years he had learned that the Don's values were so different from those of most people that his words also could have a different meaning. Did Woltz have character? Did he have a strong will? He most certainly did, but that was not what the Don was asking. Did the movie producer have the courage not to be bluffed? Did he have the willingness to suffer heavy financial loss delay on his movies would mean, the scandal of his big star exposed as a user of heroin? Again the answer was yes. But again this was not what the Don meant. Finally Hagen translated the question properly in his mind. Did Jack Woltz have the balls to risk everything, to run the chance of losing all on a matter of principle, on a matter of honor; for revenge?
4 Hagen smiled. He did it rarely but now he could not resist jesting with the Don. "You're asking if he is a Sicilian." The Don nodded his head pleasantly, acknowledging the flattering witticism and its truth. "No," Hagen said.
5 That had been all. The Don had pondered the question until the next day. On Wednesday afternoon he had called Hagen to his home and given him his instructions. The instructions had consumed the rest of Hagen's working day and left him dazed with admiration. There was no question in his mind that the Don had solved the problem, that Woltz would call him this morning with the news that Johnny Fontane had the starring part in his new war movie.
6 At that moment the phone did ring but it was Amerigo Bonasera. The undertaker's voice was trembling with gratitude. He wanted Hagen to convey to the Don his undying friendship. The Don had only to call on him. He, Amerigo Bonasera, would lay down his life for the blessed Godfather. Hagen assured him that the Don would be told.
7 The Daily News had carried a middle-page spread of Jerry Wagner and Kevin Moonan lying in the street. The photos were expertly gruesome, they seemed to be pulps of human beings. Miraculously, said the News, they were both still alive though they would both be in the hospital for months and would require plastic surgery. Hagen made a note to tell Clemenza that something should be done for Paulie Gatto. He seemed to know his job.
8 Hagen worked quickly and efficiently for the next three hours consolidating earning reports from the Don's real estate company, his olive oil importing business and his construction firm. None of them were doing well but with the war over they should all become rich producers. He had almost forgotten the Johnny Fontane problem when his secretary told him California was calling. He felt a little thrill of anticipation as he picked up the phone and said, "Hagen here."
9 The voice that came over the phone was unrecognizable with hate and passion. "You fucking bastard," Woltz screamed. "I'll have you all in jail for a hundred years. I'll spend every penny I have to get you. I'll get that Johnny Fontane's balls cut off, do you hear me, you guinea fuck?"
10 Hagen said kindly, "I'm German-Irish." There was a long pause and then a click of the phone being hung up. Hagen smiled. Not once had Woltz uttered a threat against Don Corleone himself. Genius had its rewards.
1 Jack Woltz always slept alone. He had a bed big enough for ten people and a bedroom large enough for a movie ballroom scene, but he had slept alone since the death of his first wife ten years before. This did not mean he no longer used women. He was physically a vigorous man (крепкий; vigorous – сильный, энергичный ['vıg∂r∂s]) despite his age (несмотря на свой возраст), but he could be aroused (возбужден) now only by very young girls and had learned that a few hours in the evening were all the youth of his body and his patience could tolerate (это все, что молодость /то, что от нее осталось/ его тела и его терпение могли вынести; to tolerate – терпеть, сносить).
2 On this Thursday morning, for some reason, he awoke early. The light of dawn (рассвета) made his huge bedroom as misty as a foggy meadowland (в дымке и в тумане: «дымчатой и туманной», как низинные луга; meadow [‘med∂u] – луг, низина, пойменная земля). Far down at the foot of his bed was a familiar shape and Woltz struggled up on his elbows (с трудом приподнялся на локтях) to get a clearer look. It had the shape of a horse's head. Still groggy (еще не придя в себя; groggy – любящий пропустить рюмочку, хмельной; шаткий, непрочный), Woltz reached (протянул руку) and flicked on the night table lamp (включил; to flick – слегка ударить /быстрым, легким движением; щелкнуть/).
