Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

phrase of the Mafia, "Fari vagnari a pizzu." Pizzu means the beak of any small bird such

as a canary. The phrase itself was a demand for part of the loot.

As was his habit, Vito Corleone did not answer. He understood the implication (намек,

подтекст; to implicate – вовлекать, впутывать; заключать в себе, подразумевать)

immediately and was waiting for a definite demand.

Fanucci smiled at him, showing gold teeth and stretching his noose-like scar tight

around his face. He mopped his face with a handkerchief and unbuttoned his jacket for

a moment as if to cool himself but really to show the gun he carried stuck in the

waistband of his comfortably wide trousers. Then he sighed and said, "Give me five

hundred dollars and I'll forget the insult. After all, young people don't know the

courtesies due a man like myself."

Vito Corleone smiled at him and even as a young man still unblooded (еще не

запятнанный кровью), there was something so chilling in his smile that Fanucci

hesitated a moment before going on. "Otherwise the police will come to see you, your

wife and children will be shamed and destitute (останется без средств; destitute –

лишенный средств /к существованию/). Of course if my information as to your gains is

incorrect I'll dip (погружать /в жидкость/, окунать) my beak just a little. But no less than

three hundred dollars. And don't try to deceive me."

For the first time Vito Corleone spoke. His voice was reasonable, showed no anger. It

was courteous, as befitted a young man speaking to an older man of Fanucci's

eminence (высота; высокое положение). He said softly, "My two friends have my

share of the money, I'll have to speak to them."

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Fanucci was reassured. "You can tell your two friends that I expect them to let me wet

my beak in the same manner. Don't be afraid to tell them," he added reassuringly.

"Clemenza and I know each other well, he understands these things. Let yourself be

guided by him. He has more experience in these matters."

Vito Corleone shrugged. He tried to look a little embarrassed. "Of course," he said.

"You understand this is all new to me. Thank you for speaking to me as a godfather."

Fanucci was impressed. "You're a good fellow," he said. He took Vito's hand and

clasped it in both of his hairy ones. "You have respect," he said. "A fine thing in the

young. Next time speak to me first, eh? Perhaps I can help you in your plans."

In later years Vito Corleone understood that what had made him act in such a perfect,

tactical way with Fanucci was the death of his own hot-tempered father who had been

killed by the Mafia in Sicily. But at that time all he felt was an icy rage that this man

planned to rob him of the money he had risked his life and freedom to earn. He had not

been afraid. Indeed he thought, at that moment, that Fanucci was a crazy fool. From

what he had seen of Clemenza, that burly Sicilian would sooner give up his life than a

penny of his loot. After all, Clemenza had been ready to kill a policeman merely to steal

a rug. And the slender Tessio had the deadly air of a viper (гадюка ['vaip]).

But later that night, in Clemenza's tenement apartment across the air shaft, Vito

Corleone received another lesson in the education he had just begun. Clemenza cursed,

Tessio scowled (to scowl [skaul] – хмуриться, смотреть сердито), but then both men

started talking about whether Fanucci would be satisfied with two hundred dollars.

Tessio thought he might.

Clemenza was positive. "No, that scarface bastard must have found out what we

made from the wholesaler who bought the dresses. Fanucci won't take a dime less than

three hundred dollars. We'll have to pay."

Vito was astonished but was careful not to show his astonishment. "Why do we have

to pay him? What can he do to the three of us? We're stronger than him. We have guns.

Why do we have to hand over the money we earned?"

Clemenza explained patiently. "Fanucci has friends, real brutes. He has connections

with the police. He'd like us to tell him our plans because he could set us up for the cops

and earn their gratitude. Then they would owe him a favor. That’s how he operates. And

he has a license from Maranzalla himself to work this neighborhood." Maranzalla was a

gangster often in the newspapers, reputed to be the leader of a criminal ring

specializing in extortion, gambling and armed robbery.

Clemenza served wine that he had made himself. His wife, after putting a plate of

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salami, olives and a loaf of Italian bread on the table, went down to sit with her women

cronies in front of the building, carrying her chair with her. She was a young Italian girl

only a few years in the country and did not yet understand English.

Vito Corleone sat with his two friends and drank wine. He had never used his

intelligence before as he was using it now. He was surprised at how clearly he could

think. He recalled everything he knew about Fanucci. He remembered the day the man

had had his throat cut and had run down the street holding his fedora under his chin to

catch the dripping blood. He remembered the murder of the man who had wielded the

knife and the other two having their sentences removed by paying an indemnity. And

suddenly he was sure that Fanucci had no great connections, could not possibly have.