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 despite his age, but he could be aroused now only by very
young girls and had learned that a few hours in the evening were all the youth his body
and his patience could tolerate.
On this Thursday morning, for some reason, he awoke early. The light of dawn made his
huge bedroom as misty as a foggy meadowland. Far down at the foot of his bed was a
familiar shape and Woltz struggled up on his elbows to get a clearer look. It had the
shape of a horse's head. Still groggy, Woltz reached and flicked on the night table lamp.
The shock of what he saw made him physically ill. It seemed as if a great
sledgehammer had struck him on the chest, his heartbeat jumped erratically and he
became nauseous. His vomit spluttered on the thick bear rug.
Severed from its body, the black silky head of the great horse Khartoum was stuck fast
in a thick cake of blood. White, reedy tendons showed. Froth covered the muzzle and
those apple-sized eyes that had glinted like gold, were mottled the color of rotting fruit
with dead, hemorrhaged blood. Woltz was struck by a purely animal terror and out of
that terror he screamed for his servants and out of that terror he called Hagen to make
his uncontrolled threats. His maniacal raving alarmed the butler, who called Woltz's
personal physician and his second in command at the studio. But Woltz regained his
senses before they arrived.
He had been profoundly shocked. What kind of man could destroy an animal worth six
hundred thousand dollars? Without a word of warning. Without any negotiation to have
the act, its order, countermanded. The ruthlessness, the sheer disregard for any values,
implied a man who considered himself completely his own law, even his own God. And
a man who backed up this kind of will with the power and cunning that held his own
stable security force of no account. For by this time Woltz had learned that the horse's
body had obviously been heavily drugged before someone leisurely hacked the huge
triangular head off with an ax. The men on night duty claimed that they had heard
nothing. To Woltz this seemed impossible. They could be made to talk. They had been
bought off and they could be made to tell who had done the buying.
Woltz was not a stupid man, be was merely a supremely egotistical one. He had
mistaken the power he wielded in his world to be more potent than the power of Don
Corleone. He had merely needed some proof that this was not true. He understood this
message. That despite all his wealth, despite all his contacts with the President of the
United States, despite all his claims of friendship with the director of the FBI, an obscure
importer of Italian olive oil would have him killed. Would actually have him killed!
Because he wouldn't give Johnny Fontane a movie part he wanted. It was incredible.
People didn't have any right to act that way. There couldn't be any kind of world if
people acted that way. It was insane. It meant you couldn't do what you wanted with
your own money, with the companies you owned, the power you had to give orders. It
was ten times worse than communism. It had to be smashed. It must never be allowed.
Woltz let the doctor give him a very mild sedation. It helped him calm down again and to
think sensibly. What really shocked him was the casualness with which this man
Corleone had ordered the destruction of a world-famous horse worth six hundred
thousand dollars. Six hundred thousand dollars! And that was just for openers. Woltz
shuddered. He thought of this life he had built up. He was rich. He could have the most
beautiful women in the world by cooking his finger and promising a contract. He was
received by kings and queens. He lived a life as perfect as money and power could
make it. It was crazy to risk all this because of a whim. Maybe he could get to Corleone.
What was the legal penalty for killing a racehorse? He laughed wildly and his doctor and
servants watched him with nervous anxiety. Another thought occurred to him. He would
be the laughingstock of California merely because someone had contemptuously defied
his power in such arrogant fashion. That decided him. That and the thought that maybe,
maybe they wouldn't kill him. That they had something much more clever and painful in
reserve.
Woltz gave the necessary orders. His personal confidential staff swung into action. The
servants and the doctor were sworn to secrecy on pain of incurring the studio's and
Woltz's undying enmity. Word was given to the press that the racehorse Khartoum had
died of an illness contracted during his shipment from England. Orders were given to bury the remains in a secret place on the estate.
Six hours later Johnny Fontane received a phone call from the executive producer of the
film telling him to report for work the following Monday.