Chapter 2.4

Virgil "the Turk" Sollozzo was a powerfully built, medium-sized man of dark complexion

who could have been taken for a true Turk. He had a scimitar of a nose and cruel black

eyes. He also had an impressive dignity.

Sonny Corleone met him at the door and brought him into the office where Hagen and

the Don waited. Hagen thought he had never seen a more dangerous-looking man

except for Luca Brasi.

There were polite handshakings all around. If the Don ever asks me if this man has

balls, I would have to answer yes, Hagen thought. He had never seen such force in one

man, not even the Don. In fact the Don appeared at his worst. He was being a little too

simple, a little too peasantlike in his greeting.

Sollozzo came to the point immediately. The business was narcotic. Everything was set

up. Certain poppy fields in Turkey had pledged him certain amounts every year. He had

a protected plant in France to convert into morphine. He had an absolutely secure plant

in Sicily to process into heroin. Smuggling into both countries was as positively safe as

such matters could be. Entry into the United States would entail about five percent

losses since the FBI itself was incorruptible, as they both knew. But the profits would be

enormous, the risk nonexistent. "Then why do you come to me?" the Don asked politely. "How have I deserved your

generosity?"

Sollozzo's dark face remained impassive. "I need two million dollars cash," he said.

"Equally important, I need a man who has powerful friends in the important places.

Some of my couriers will be caught over the years. That is inevitable. They will all have

clean records, that I promise. So it will be logical for judges to give light sentences. I

need a friend who can guarantee that when my people get in trouble they won't spend

more than a year or two in jail. Then they won't talk. But if they get ten and twenty years,

who knows? In this world there are many weak individuals. They may talk, they may

jeopardize more important people. Legal protection is a must. I hear, Don Corleone, that

you have as many judges in your pocket as a bootblack has pieces of silver."

Don Corleone didn't bother to acknowledge the compliment. "What percentage for my

family?" he asked.

Sollozzo's eyes gleamed. "Fifty percent." He paused and then said in a voice that was

almost a caress, "In the first year your share would be three or four million dollars. Then

it would go up."

Don Corleone said, "And what is the percentage of the Tattaglia family?"

For the first time Sollozzo seemed to be nervous. "They will receive something from my

share. I need some help in the operations."

"So," Don Corleone said, "I receive fifty percent merely for finance and legal protection. I

have no worries about operations, is that what you tell me?"

Sollozzo nodded. "If you think two million dollars in cash is 'merely finance,' I

congratulate you, Don Corleone."

The Don said quietly, "I consented to see you out of my respect for the Tattaglias and

because I've heard you are a serious man to be treated also with respect. I must say no

to you but I must give you my reasons. The profits in your business are huge but so are

the risks. Your operation, if I were part of it, could damage my other interests. It's true I

have many, many friends in politics, but they would not be so friendly if my business

were narcotics instead of gambling. They think gambling is something like liquor, a

harmless vice, and they think narcotics a dirty business. No, don't protest. I'm telling you

their thoughts, not mine. How a man makes his living is not my concern. And what I am

telling you is that this business of yours is too risky. All the members of my family have

lived well the last ten years, without danger, without harm. I can't endanger them or their

livelihoods out of greed."

The only sign of Sollozzo's disappointment was a quick flickering of his eyes around the

room, as if he hoped Hagen or Sonny would speak in his support. Then he said, "Are

you worried about security for your two million?"

The Don smiled coldly. "No," he said.

Sollozzo tried again. "The Tattaglia family will guarantee your investment also."

It was then that Sonny Corleone made an unforgivable error in judgment and procedure.

He said eagerly, "The Tattaglia family guarantees the return of our investment without

any percentage from us?"

Hagen was horrified at this break. He saw the Don turn cold, malevolent eyes on his

eldest son, who froze in uncomprehending dismay. Sollozzo's eyes flickered again but

this time with satisfaction. He had discovered a chink in the Don's fortress. When the

Don spoke his voice held a dismissal. "Young people are greedy," he said. "And today

they have no manners. They interrupt their elders. They meddle. But I have a

sentimental weakness for my children and I have spoiled them. As you see. Signor

Sollozzo, my no is final. Let me say that I myself wish you good fortune in your

business. It has no conflict with my own. I'm sorry that I had to disappoint you."

Sollozzo bowed, shook the Don's hand and let Hagen take him to his car outside. There

was no expression on his face when he said good-bye to Hagen.

Back in the room, Don Corleone asked Hagen, "What did you think of that man?"

"He's a Sicilian," Hagen said dryly.

The Don nodded his head thoughtfully. Then he turned to his son and said gently,

"Santino, never let anyone outside the family know what you are thinking. Never let

them know what you have under your fingernails. I think your brain is going soft from all

that comedy you play with that young girl. Stop it and pay attention to business. Now get

out of my sight."

Hagen saw the surprise on Sonny's face, then anger at his father's reproach. Did he

really think the Don would be ignorant of his conquest, Hagen wondered. And did he

really not know what a dangerous mistake he had made this morning? If that were true,

Hagen would never wish to be the Consigliere to the Don of Santino Corleone.

Don Corleone waited until Sonny had left the room. Then he sank back into his leather

armchair and motioned brusquely for a drink. Hagen poured him a glass of anisette. The Don looked up at him. "Send Luca Brasi to see me," he said.