The Godfather - Mario Puzo [124]
Detective Phillips asked gently, “How long have you known him?”
“Over a year,” Kay said and was surprised when the two men smiled.
“I think there are a few things you should know,” Detective Phillips said. “On the night he left you, he went to the hospital. When he came out he got into an argument with a police captain who had come to the hospital on official business. He assaulted that police officer but got the worst of it. In fact he got a broken jaw and lost some teeth. His friends took him out to the Corleone Family houses at Long Beach. The following night the police captain he had the fight with was gunned down and Michael Corleone disappeared. Vanished. We have our contacts, our informers. They all point the finger at Michael Corleone but we have no evidence for a court of law. The waiter who witnessed the shooting doesn’t recognize a picture of Mike but he may recognize him in person. And we have Sollozzo’s driver, who refuses to talk, but we might make him talk if we have Michael Corleone in our hands. So we have all our people looking for him, the FBI is looking for him, everybody is looking for him. So far, no luck, so we thought you might be able to give us a lead.”
Kay said coldly, “I don’t believe a word of it.” But she felt a bit sick knowing the part about Mike getting his jaw broken must be true. Not that that would make Mike commit murder.
“Will you let us know if Mike contacts you?” Phillips asked.
Kay shook her head. The other detective, Siriani, said roughly, “We know you two have been shacking up together. We have the hotel records and witnesses. If we let that information slip to the newspapers your father and mother would feel pretty lousy. Real respectable people like them wouldn’t think much of a daughter shacking up with a gangster. If you don’t come clean right now I’ll call your old man in here and give it to him straight.”
Kay looked at him with astonishment. Then she got up and went to the door of the study and opened it. She could see her father standing at the living-room window, sucking at his pipe. She called out, “Dad, can you join us?” He turned, smiled at her, and walked to the study. When he came through the door he put his arm around his daughter’s waist and faced the detectives and said, “Yes, gentlemen?”
When they didn’t answer, Kay said coolly to Detective Siriani, “Give it to him straight, Officer.”
Siriani flushed. “Mr. Adams, I’m telling you this for your daughter’s good. She is mixed up with a hoodlum we have reason to believe committed a murder on a police officer. I’m just telling her she can get into serious trouble unless she cooperates with us. But she doesn’t seem to realize how serious this whole matter is. Maybe you can talk to her.”
“That is quite incredible,” Mr. Adams said politely.
Siriani jutted his jaw. “Your daughter and Michael Corleone have been going out together for over a year. They have stayed overnight in hotels together registered as man and wife. Michael Corleone is wanted for questioning in the murder of a police officer. Your daughter refuses to give us any information that may help us. Those are the facts. You can call them incredible but I can back everything up.”
“I don’t doubt your word, sir,” Mr. Adams said gently. “What I find incredible is that my daughter could be in serious trouble. Unless you’re suggesting that she is a”—here his face became one of scholarly doubt—“a ‘moll,’ I believe it’s called.”
Kay looked at her father in astonishment. She knew he was being playful in his donnish way and she was surprised that he could take the whole affair so lightly.
Mr. Adams said firmly, “However, rest assured that if the young man shows his face here I shall immediately report his presence to the authorities. As will my daughter. Now, if you will forgive us, our lunch is growing cold.”
He ushered the men out of the house with every courtesy and closed the door