mp.godfather-第69部分

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　In　addition　to　this　Sonny　was　under　the　enormous　strain　of　being　a　marked　man。　He　had　to　be　extraordinarily　careful　in　all　his　movements　and　he　knew　that　his　visits　to　Lucy　Mancini　had　been　charted　by　the　enemy。　But　here　he　took　elaborate　precautions　since　this　was　the　traditional　vulnerable　spot。　He　was　safe　there。　Though　Lucy　had　not　the　slightest　suspicion；　she　was　watched　twenty…four　hours　a　day　by　men　of　the　Santino　regime　and　when　an　apartment　became　vacant　on　her　floor　it　was　immediately　rented　by　one　of　the　most　reliable　men　of　that　regime。
　
　The　Don　was　recovering　and　would　soon　be　able　to　resume　mand。　At　that　time　the　tide　of　battle　must　swing　to　the　Corleone　Family。　This　Sonny　was　sure　of。　Meanwhile　he　would　guard　his　Family's　empire；　earn　the　respect　of　his　father；　and；　since　the　position　was　not　hereditary　to　an　absolute　degree；　cement　his　claim　as　heir　to　the　Corleone　Empire。
　
　But　the　enemy　was　making　its　plans。　They　too　had　analyzed　the　situation　and　had　e　to　the　conclusion　that　the　only　way　to　stave　off　plete　defeat　was　to　kill　Sonny　Corleone。　They　understood　the　situation　better　now　and　felt　it　was　possible　to　negotiate　with　the　Don；　known　for　his　logical　reasonableness。　They　had　e　to　hate　Sonny　for　his　bloodthirstiness；　which　they　considered　barbaric。　Also　not　good　business　sense。　Nobody　wanted　the　old　days　back　again　with　all　its　turmoil　and　trouble。
　
　One　evening　Connie　Corleone　received　an　anonymous　phone　call；　a　girl's　voice；　asking　for　Carlo。　〃Who　is　this？〃　Connie　asked。
　
　The　girl　on　the　other　end　giggled　and　said；　〃I'm　a　friend　of　Carlo's。　I　just　wanted　to　tell　him　I　can't　see　him　tonight。　I　have　to　go　out　of　town。〃
　
　〃You　lousy　bitch；〃　Connie　Corleone　said。　She　screamed　it　again　into　the　phone。　〃You　lousy　tramp　bitch。〃　There　was　a　click　on　the　other　end。
　
　Carlo　had　gone　to　the　track　for　that　afternoon　and　when　he　came　home　in　the　late　evening　he　was　sore　at　losing　and　half　drunk　from　the　bottle　he　always　carried。　As　soon　as　he　stepped　into　the　door；　Connie　started　screaming　curses　at　him。　He　ignored　her　and　went　in　to　take　a　shower。　When　he　came　out　he　dried　his　naked　body　in　front　of　her　and　started　dolling　up　to　go　out。
　
　Connie　stood　with　hands　on　hips；　her　face　pointy　and　white　with　rage。　〃You're　not　going　anyplace；〃　she　said。　〃Your　girl　friend　called　and　said　she　can't　make　it　tonight。　You　lousy　bastard；　you　have　the　nerve　to　give　your　whores　my　phone　number。　I'll　kill　you；　you　bastard。〃　She　rushed　at　him；　kicking　and　scratching。
　
　He　held　her　off　with　one　muscular　forearm。　〃You're　crazy；〃　he　said　coldly。　But　she　could　see　he　was　worried；　as　if　he　knew　the　crazy　girl　he　was　screwing　would　actually　pull　such　a　stunt。　〃She　was　kidding　around；　some　nut；〃　Carlo　said。
　
　Connie　ducked　around　his　arm　and　clawed　at　his　face。　She　got　a　little　bit　of　his　cheek　under　her　fingernails。　With　surprising　patience　he　pushed　her　away。　She　noticed　he　was　careful　because　of　her　pregnancy　and　that　gave　her　the　courage　to　feed　her　rage。　She　was　also　excited。　Pretty　soon　she　wouldn't　be　able　to　do　anything；　the　doctor　had　said　no　sex　for　the　last　two　months　and　she　wanted　it；　before　the　last　two　months　started。　Yet　her　wish　to　inflict　a　physical　injury　on　Carlo　was　very　real　too。　She　followed　him　into　the　bedroom。
　
　She　could　see　he　was　scared　and　that　filled　her　with　contemptuous　delight。　〃You're　staying　home；〃　she　said；　〃you're　not　going　out。〃
　
　〃OK；　OK；〃　he　said。　He　was　still　undressed；　only　wearing　his　shorts。　He　liked　to　go　around　the　house　like　that；　he　was　proud　of　his　V…shaped　body；　the　golden　skin。　Connie　looked　at　him　hungrily。　He　tried　to　laugh。　〃You　gonna　give　me　something　to　eat　at　least？〃
　
　That　mollified　her；　his　calling　on　her　duties；　one　of　them　at　least。　She　was　a　good　cook；　she　had　learned　that　from　her　mother。　She　sauteed　veal　and　peppers；　preparing　a　mixed　salad　while　the　pan　simmered。　Meanwhile　Carlo　stretched　out　on　his　bed　to　read　the　next　day's　racing　form。　He　had　a　water　glass　full　of　whiskey　beside　him　which　he　kept　sipping　at。
　
　Connie　came　into　the　bedroom。　She　stood　in　the　doorway　as　if　she　could　not　e　close　to　the　bed　without　being　invited。　〃The　food　is　on　the　table；〃　she　said。
　
　〃I'm　not　hungry　yet；〃　he　said；　still　reading　the　racing　form。
　
　〃It's　on　the　table；〃　Connie　said　stubbornly。
　
　〃Stick　it　up　your　ass；〃　Carlo　said。　He　drank　off　the　rest　of　the　whiskey　in　the　water　glass；　tilted　the　bottle　to　fill　it　again。　He　paid　no　more　attention　to　her。
　
　Connie　went　into　the　kitchen；　picked　up　the　plates　filled　with　food　and　smashed　them　against　the　sink。　The　loud　crashes　brought　Carlo　in　from　the　bedroom。　He　looked　at　the　greasy　veal　and　peppers　splattered　all　over　the　kitchen　walls　and　his　finicky　neatness　was　outraged。　〃You　filthy　guinea　spoiled　brat；〃　he　said　venomously。　〃Clean　that　up　right　now　or　I'll　kick　the　shit　out　of　you。〃
　
　〃Like　hell　I　will；〃　Connie　said。　She　held　her　hands　like　claws　ready　to　scratch　his　bare　chest　to　ribbons。
　
　Carlo　went　back　into　the　bedroom　and　when　he　came　out　he　was　holding　his　belt　doubled　in　his　hand。　〃Clean　it　up；〃　he　said　and　there　was　no　mistaking　the　menace　in　his　voice。　She　stood　there　not　moving　and　he　swung　the　belt　against　her　heavily　padded　hips；　the　leather　stinging　but　not　really　hurting。　Connie　retreated　to　the　kitchen　cabinets　and　her　hand　went　into　one　of　the　drawers　to　haul　out　the　long　bread　knife。　She　held　it　ready。
　
　Carlo　laughed。　〃Even　the　female　Corleones　are　murderers；〃　he　said。　He　put　the　belt　down　on　the　kitchen　table　and　advanced　toward　her。　She　tried　a　sudden　lunge　but　her　pregnant　heavy　body　made　her　slow　and　he　eluded　the　thrust　she　aimed　at　his　groin　in　such　deadly　earnest。　He　disarmed　her　easily　and　then　he　started　to　slap　her　face　with　a　slow　medium…heavy　stroke　so　as　not　to　break　the　skin。　He　hit　her　again　and　again　as　she　retreated　around　the　kitchen　table　trying　to　escape　him　and　he　pursued　her　into　the　bedroom。　She　tried　to　bite　his　hand　and　he　grabbed　her　by　the　hair　to　lift　her　head　up。　He　slapped　her　face　until　she　began　to　weep　like　a　little　girl；　with　pain　and　humiliation。　Then　he　threw　her　contemptuously　onto　the　bed。　He　drank　from　the　bottle　of　whiskey　still　on　the　night　table。　He　seemed　very　drunk　now；　his　light　blue　eyes　had　a　crazy　glint　in　them　and　finally　Connie　was　truly　afraid。
　
　Carlo　straddled　his　legs　apart　and　drank　from　the　bottle。　He　reached　down　and　grabbed　a　chunk　of　her　pregnant　heavy　thigh　in　his　hand。　He　squeezed　very　hard；　hurting　her　and　making　her　beg　for　mercy。　〃You're　fat　as　a　pig；〃　he　said　with　disgust　and　walked　out　of　the　bedroom。
　
　Thoroughly　frightened　and　cowed；　she　lay　in　the　bed；　not　daring　to　see　what　her　husband　was　doing　in　the　other　room。　Finally　she　rose　and　went　to　the　door　to　peer　into　the　living　room。　Carlo　had　opened　a　fresh　bottle　of　whiskey　and　was　sprawled　on　the　sofa。　In　a　little　while　he　would　drink　himself　into　sodden　sleep　and　she　could　sneak　into　the　kitchen　and　call　her　family　in　Long　Beach。　She　would　tell　her　mother　to　send　someone　out　here　to　get　her。　She　just　hoped　Sonny　didn't　answer　the　phone；　she　knew　it　would　be　best　to　talk　to　Tom　Hagen　or　her　mother。
　
　It　was　nearly　ten　o'clock　at　night　when　the　kitchen　phone　in　Don　Corleone's　house　rang。　It　was　answered　by　one　of　the　Don's　bodyguards　who　dutifully　turned　the　phone　over　to　Connie's　mother。　But　Mrs。　Corleone　could　hardly　understand　what　her　daughter　was　saying；　the　girl　was　hysterical　yet　trying　to　whisper　so　that　her　husband　in　the　next　room　would　not　hear　her。　Also　her　face　had　bee　swollen　because　of　the　slaps；　and　her　puffy　lips　thickened　her　speech。　Mrs。　Corleone　made　a　sign　to　the　bodyguard　that　he　should　call　Sonny；　who　was　in　the　living　room　with　Tom　Hagen。
　
　Sonny　came　into　the　kitchen　and　took　the　phone　from　his　mother。　〃Yeah；　Connie；〃　he　said。
　
　Connie　was　so　frightened　both　of　her　husband　and　of　what　her　brother　would　do　that　her　speech　became　worse。　She　babbled；　〃Sonny；　just　send　a　car　to　bring　me　home；　I'll　tell　you　then；　it's　nothing；　Sonny。　Don't　you　e。　Send　Tom；　please；　Sonny。　It's　nothing；　I　just　want　to　e　home。〃
　
　By　this　time　Hagen　had　e　into　the　room。　The　Don