Английский язык с Крестным Отцом - Илья Франк

(отрывистый, резкий, бесцеремонный [brusk]). Not rude, since anyone of these

Southerners might stick a knife into you if rubbed the wrong way, though this young

man looked like a quiet fellow.

"Signor Roberto," said Vito Corleone, "the friend of my wife, a poor widow with no man

to protect her, tells me that for some reason she has been ordered to move from her

apartment in your building. She is in despair. She has no money, she has no friends

except those that live here. I told her that I would speak to you, that you are a

reasonable man who acted out of some misunderstanding. She has gotten rid of the

animal that caused all the trouble and so why shouldn't she stay? As one Italian to

another, I ask you the favor."

Signor Roberto studied the young man in front of him. He saw a man of medium

stature but strongly built, a peasant but not a bandit, though he so laughably dared to

call himself an Italian. Roberto shrugged. "I have already rented the apartment to

another family for higher rent," he said. "I cannot disappoint them for the sake of your

friend."

Vito Corleone nodded in agreeable understanding. "How much more a month?" he

asked.

"Five dollars," Mr. Roberto said. This was a lie. The railway flat, four dark rooms,

rented for twelve dollars a month to the widow and he had not been able to get more

than that from the new tenant.

Vito Corleone took a roll of bills out of his pocket and peeled off three tens. "Here is

the six months' increase in advance. You needn't speak to her about it, she's a proud

50

woman. See me again in another six months. But of course you'll let her keep her dog."

"Like hell," Mr. Roberto said. "And who the hell are you to give me orders. Watch your

manners or you'll be out on your Sicilian ass in the street there."

Vito Corleone raised his hands in surprise. "I'm asking you a favor, only that. One

never knows when one might need a friend, isn't that true? Here, take this money as a

sign of my goodwill and make your own decision. I wouldn't dare to quarrel with it." He

thrust the money into Mr. Roberto's hand. "Do me this little favor, just take the money

and think things over. Tomorrow morning if you want to give me the money back by all

means (любым способом, во что бы то ни стало; /здесь/ конечно же, пожалуйста,

ради Бога) do so. If you want the woman out of your house, how can I stop you? It's

your property, after all. If you don't want the dog in there, I can understand. I dislike

animals myself." He patted Mr. Roberto on the shoulder. "Do me this service, eh? I

won't forget it. Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me, they'll tell you I'm a man

who believes in showing his gratitude."

But of course Mr. Roberto had already begun to understand. That evening he made

inquiries about Vito Corleone. He did not wait until the next morning. He knocked on the

Corleone door that very night, apologizing for the lateness of the hour and accepted a

glass of wine from Signora Corleone. He assured Vito Corleone that it had all been a

dreadful misunderstanding, that of course Signora Colombo could remain in the flat, of

course she could keep her dog. Who were those miserable tenants to complain about

noise from a poor animal when they paid such a low rent? At the finish he threw the

thirty dollars Vito Corleone had given him on the table and said in the most sincere

fashion, "Your good heart in helping this poor widow has shamed me and I wish to show

that I, too, have some Christian charity (милосердие). Her rent will remain what it was."

All concerned played this comedy prettily. Vito poured wine, called for cakes, wrung

Mr. Roberto's hand and praised his warm heart. Mr. Roberto sighed and said that

having made the acquaintance of such a man as Vito Corleone restored his faith in

human nature. Finally they tore themselves away from each other. Mr. Roberto, his

bones turned to jelly with fear at his narrow escape, caught the streetcar to his home in

the Bronx and took to his bed. He did not reappear in his tenements for three days.

Vito Corleone was now a "man of respect" in the neighborhood. He was reputed to be

a member of the Mafia of Sicily. One day a man who ran card games in a furnished

51

room came to him and voluntarily paid him twenty dollars each week for his "friendship."

He had only to visit the game once or twice a week to let the players understand they

were under his protection.

Store owners who had problems with young hoodlums asked him to intercede

(вмешаться). He did so and was properly rewarded. Soon he had the enormous

income for that time and place of one hundred dollars a week. Since Clemenza and

Tessio were his friends, his allies, he had to give them each part of the money, but this

he did without being asked. Finally he decided to go into the olive oil importing business

with his boyhood chum (приятель, закадычный друг), Genco Abbandando. Genco

would handle the business, the importing of the olive oil from Italy, the buying at the

proper price, the storing in his father's warehouse. Genco had the experience for this

part of the business. Clemenza and Tessio would be the salesmen. They would go to

every Italian grocery store in Manhattan, then Brooklyn, then the Bronx, to persuade

store owners to stock Genco Pura olive oil. (With typical modesty, Vito Corleone refused

to name the brand (головня; клеймо; /здесь/ фабричная марка) after himself.) Vito of

course would be the head of the firm since he was supplying most of the capital. He

also would be called in on special cases, where store owners resisted the sales talks of

Clemenza and Tessio. Then Vito Corleone would use his own formidable powers of

persuasion.

For the next few years Vito Corleone lived that completely satisfying life of a small

businessman wholly devoted to building up his commercial enterprise in a dynamic,

expanding economy. He was a devoted father and husband but so busy he could spare

his family little of his time. As Genco Pura olive oil grew to become the bestselling

imported Italian oil in America, his organization mushroomed (быстро росла;

mushroom – гриб). Like any good salesman he came to understand the benefits of

undercutting his rivals in price, barring them from distribution outlets by persuading

store

owners to stock less of their brands. Like any good businessman he aimed at holding a

monopoly by forcing his rivals to abandon the field or by merging (to merge –

сливаться) with his own company. However, since he had started off relatively helpless,

economically, since he did not believe in advertising, relying on word of mouth and

since if truth be told, his olive oil was no better than his competitors', he could not use

the common strangleholds (stranglehold – удушение, мертвая хватка) of legitimate

businessmen. He had to rely on the force of his own personality and his reputation as a

"man of respect."

52

Even as a young man, Vito Corleone became known as a "man of reasonableness."

He never uttered a threat. He always used logic that proved to be irresistible. He always

made certain that the other fellow got his share of profit. Nobody lost. He did this, of

course, by obvious means. Like many businessmen of genius he learned that free

competition was wasteful, monopoly efficient. And so he simply set about (начал,

приступил) achieving that efficient monopoly. There were some oil wholesalers in

Brooklyn, men of fiery temper, headstrong, not amenable (поддающийся, податливый,

сговорчивый [∂'mi:n∂bl]) to reason, who refused to see, to recognize, the vision of Vito

Corleone, even after he had explained everything to them with the utmost patience and

detail. With these men Vito Corleone threw up his hands in despair and sent Tessio to

Brooklyn to set up a headquarters and solve the problem. Warehouses were burned,

truckloads of olive-green oil were dumped to form lakes in the cobbled (cobble –

булыжник) waterfront (порт, район порта) streets. One rash man, an arrogant

Milanese with more faith in the police than a saint has in Christ, actually went to the

authorities with a complaint against his fellow Italians, breaking the ten-century-old law

of omerta. But before the matter could progress any further the wholesaler disappeared,

never to be seen again, leaving behind, deserted, his devoted wife and three children,

who, God be thanked, were fully grown and capable of taking over his business and

coming to terms (договорившись, заключив соглашение; terms – условия

соглашения, договор) with the Genco Pura Oil Company.

But great men are not born great, they grow great, and so it was with Vito Corleone.

When prohibition (запрещение; запрещение продажи спиртных напитков (1920–33)

[pr∂uı’bı∫∂n]; to prohibit [pr∂’hıbıt] – запрещать, препятствовать) came to pass and

alcohol forbidden to be sold, Vito Corleone made the final step from a quite ordinary,

somewhat ruthless businessman to a great Don in the world of criminal enterprise. It did

not happen in a day, it did not happen in a year, but by the end of the Prohibition period

and the start of the Great Depression, Vito Corleone had become the Godfather, the

Don, Don Corleone.

It started casually enough. By this time the Genco Pura Oil Company had a fleet of six

delivery trucks. Through Clemenza, Vito Corleone was approached by a group of Italian

bootleggers (торговец контрабандными или самогонными спиртными напитками;

bootleg – голенище) who smuggled alcohol and whiskey in from Canada. They needed

trucks and deliverymen to distribute their produce over New York City. They needed

deliverymen who were reliable, discreet and of a certain determination and force. They

were willing to pay Vito Corleone for his trucks and for his men. The fee was so

enormous that Vito Corleone cut back drastically (радикально; drastic –

сильнодействующий /о лекарстве/) on his oil business to use the trucks almost

53

exclusively for the service of the bootlegger-smugglers. This despite the fact that these

gentlemen had accompanied their offer with a silky threat. But even then Vito Corleone

was so mature a man that he did not take insult at a threat or become angry and refuse

a profitable offer because of it. He evaluated the threat, found it lacking in conviction,

and lowered his opinion of his new partners because they had been so stupid to use

threats where none were needed. This was useful information to be pondered at its

proper time.

Again he prospered. But, more important, he acquired knowledge and contacts and

experience. And he piled up (складывал в кучу, накапливал; pile – куча, груда, кипа)

good deeds as a banker piles up securities (ценные бумаги). For in the following years

it became clear that Vito Corleone was not only a man of talent but, in his way, a genius.

He made himself the protector of the Italian families who set themselves up as small

speakeasies (speakeasy – бар, где незаконно торгуют спиртными напитками) in

their homes, selling whiskey at fifteen cents a glass to bachelor laborers. He became

godfather to Mrs. Colombo's youngest son when the lad made his confirmation and

gave a handsome present of a twenty-dollar gold piece. Meanwhile, since it was

inevitable that some of his trucks be stopped by the police, Genco Abbandando hired a

fine lawyer with many contacts in the Police Department and the judiciary (судебное

право; судебное ведомство [dGu:'dı∫ı∂rı]). A system of payoffs was set up and soon

the Corleone organization had a sizable "sheet," the list of officials entitled (to entitle –

давать право [ın'taıtl]) to a monthly sum. When the lawyer tried to keep this list down,

apologizing for the expense, Vito Corleone reassured him. "No, no," he said. "Get

everyone on it even if they can't help us right now. I believe in friendship and I am

willing to show my friendship first."

As time went by the Corleone empire became larger, more trucks were added, the

"sheet" grew longer. Also the men working directly for Tessio and Clemenza grew in

number. The whole thing was becoming unwieldy (неуправляемый)). Finally Vito

Corleone worked out a system of organization. He gave Clemenza and Tessio each the

title of Caporegime, or captain, and the men who worked beneath them the rank of

soldier. He named Genco Abbandando his counselor, or Consigliori. He put layers of

insulation (слои изоляции) between himself and any operational act. When he gave an

order it was to Genco or to one of the caporegimes alone. Rarely did he have a witness

to any order he gave any particular one of them. Then he split Tessio's group and made

it responsible for Brooklyn. He also split Tessio off from Clemenza and made it clear

54

over the years that he did not want the two men to associate even socially except when

absolutely necessary. He explained this to the more intelligent Tessio, who caught his

drift (медленное течение; направление; /здесь/ намерение) immediately, though Vito

explained it as a security measure against the law. Tessio understood that Vito did not

want his two caporegimes to have any opportunity to conspire against him and he also

understood there was no ill will involved, merely a tactical precaution. In return Vito

gave Tessio a free hand in Brooklyn while he kept Clemenza's Bronx fief (феодальное

поместье, лен [fi:f]) very much under his thumb. Clemenza was the braver, more

reckless (дерзкий, отчаянный, reckless of danger – пренебрегающий опасностью),

the crueler man despite his outward jollity (веселость; jolly – веселый, радостный),

and needed a tighter rein (повод, поводья).

The Great Depression increased the power of Vito Corleone. And indeed it was about