按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
s。
Security at the bank was taken over by a small army of handpicked men wearing bank guard uniforms。 At ten o'clock on a Saturday morning the conference room began to fill up。 Besides the Five Families of New York； there were representatives from ten other Families across the country； with the exception of Chicago； that black sheep of their world。 They had given up trying to civilize Chicago； and they saw no point in including those mad dogs in this important conference。
A bar had been set up and a small buffet。 Each representative to the conference had been allowed one aide。 Most of the Dons had brought their Consiglieres as aides so there were paratively few young men in the room。 Tom Hagen was one of those young men and the only one who was not Sicilian。 He was an object of curiosity； a freak。
Hagen knew his manners。 He did not speak； he did not smile。 He waited on his boss； Don Corleone； with all the respect of a favorite earl waiting on his king； bringing him a cold drink； lighting his cigar； positioning his ashtray； with respect but no obsequiousness。
Hagen was the only one in that room who knew the identity of the portraits hanging on the dark paneled walls。 They were mostly portraits of fabulous financial figures done in rich oils。 One was of Secretary of the Treasury Hamilton。 Hagen could not help thinking that Hamilton might have approved of this peace meeting being held in a banking institution。 Nothing was more calming； more conducive to pure reason； than the atmosphere of money。
The arrival time had been staggered for between nine…thirty to ten A。M。 Don Corleone； in a sense the host since he had initiated the peace talks； had been the first to arrive； one of his many virtues was punctuality。 The next to arrive was Carlo Tramonti； who had made the southern part of the United States his territory。 He was an impressively handsome middle…aged man； tall for a Sicilian； with a very deep sunburn； exquisitely tailored and barbered。 He did not look Italian； he looked more like one of those pictures in the magazines of millionaire fishermen lolling on their yachts。 The Tramonti Family earned its livelihood from gambling； and no one meeting their Don would ever guess with what ferocity he had won his empire。
Emigrating from Sicily as a small boy； he had settled in Florida and grown to manhood there； employed by the American syndicate of Southern small…town politicians who controlled gambling。 These were very tough men backed up by very tough police officials and they never suspected that they could be overthrown by such a greenhorn immigrant。 They were unprepared for his ferocity and could not match it simply because the rewards being fought over were not； to their minds； worth so much bloodshed。 Tramonti won over the police with bigger shares of the gross； he exterminated those redneck hooligans who ran their operation with such a plete lack of imagination。 It was Tramonti who opened ties with Cuba and the Batista regime and eventually poured money into the pleasure resorts of Havana gambling houses； whorehouses； to lure gamblers from the American mainland。 Tramonti was now a millionaire many times over and owned one of the most luxurious hotels in Miami Beach。
When he came into the conference room followed by his aide； an equally sunburned Consigliere； Tramonti embraced Don Corleone； made a face of sympathy to show he sorrowed for the dead son。
Other Dons were arriving。 They all knew each other； they had met over the years； either socially or when in the pursuit of their businesses。 They had always showed each other professional courtesies and in their younger； leaner days had done each other little services。 The second Don to arrive was Joseph Zaluchi from Detroit。 The Zaluchi Family； under appropriate disguises and covers； owned one of the horse…racing tracks in the Detroit area。 They also owned a good part of the gambling。 Zaluchi was a moon…faced； amiable…looking man who lived in a one…hundred…thousand…dollar house in the fashionable Grosse Pointe section of Detroit。 One of his sons had married into an old； well…known American family。 Zaluchi； like Don Corleone； was sophisticated。 Detroit had the lowest incidence of physical violence of any of the cities controlled by the Families； there had been only two execution in the last three years in that city。 He disapproved of traffic in drugs。
Zaluchi had brought his Consigliere with him and both men came to Don Corleone to embrace him。 Zaluchi had a booming American voice with only the slightest trace of an scent。 He was conservatively dressed； very businessman； and with a hearty goodwill to match。 He said to Don Corleone； 〃Only your voice could have brought me here。〃 Don Corleone bowed his head in thanks。 He could count on Zaluchi for support。
The next two Dons to arrive were from the West Coast； motoring from there in the same car since they worked together closely in any case。 They were Frank Falcone and Anthony Molinari and both were younger than any of the other men who would e to the meeting； in their early forties。 They were dressed a little more informally than the others； there was a touch of Hollywood in their style and they were a little more friendly than necessary。 Frank Falcone controlled the movie unions and the gambling at the studios plus a plex of pipeline prostitution that supplied girls to the whorehouses of the states in the Far West。 It was not in the realm of possibility for any Don to bee 〃show biz〃 but Falcone had just a touch。 His fellow Dons distrusted him accordingly。
Anthony Molinari controlled the waterfronts of San Francisco and was preeminent in the empire of sports gambling。 He came of Italian fishermen stock and owned the best San Francisco sea food restaurant； in which he took such pride that the legend had it he lost money on the enterprise by giving too good value for the prices charged。 He had the impassive face of the professional gambler and it was known that he also had something to do with dope smuggling over the Mexican border and from the ships plying the lanes of the oriental oceans。 Their aides were young； powerfully built men； obviously not counselors but bodyguards； though they would not dare to carry arms to this meeting。 It was general knowledge that these bodyguards knew karate； a fact that amused the other Dons but did not alarm them in the slightest； no more than if the California Dons had e wearing amulets blessed by the Pope。 Though it must be noted that some of these men were religious and believed in God。
Next arrived the representative from the Family in Boston。 This was the only Don who did not have the respect of his fellows。 He was known as a man who did not do right by his 〃people；〃 who cheated them unmercifully。 This could be forgiven； each man measures his own greed。 What could not be forgiven was that he could not keep order in his empire。 The Boston area had too many murders； too many petty wars for power； too many unsupported free…lance activities； it flouted the law too brazenly。 If the Chicago Mafia were savages； then the Boston people were gavones； or uncouth louts； ruffians。 The Boston Don's name was Domenick Panza。 He was s