The Last Don - Mario Puzo [171]
“You think that’s funny?” Dante said to Redfellow.
Redfellow studied Dante for a moment. He made his face very serious. “Only because I know that in this instance it is a mistake to be so clever.”
The Don observed this exchange and it seemed to amuse him. In any case he was frivolous, a rare occurrence, which his sons always recognized and enjoyed.
“So Grandson,” he said to Dante, “how would you solve this problem?”
“Send him swimming to the bottom of the ocean,” Dante said, and the Don smiled at him.
“And you, Croccifixio? How would you solve this situation?” the Don asked.
“I’d just accept it,” Cross said. “I’d learn from it. I just got outfoxed because I didn’t believe they’d have the balls.”
“Petie and Vincent?” the Don asked.
But they refused to answer. They knew the game he was playing.
“You can’t just ignore it,” the Don said to Cross. “You will be known for a fool and men all over the world will refuse you any respect.”
Cross was taking the Don seriously. “Eli Marrion’s house still holds his paintings and they’re worth about twenty or thirty million. We could hijack them and hold them for ransom.”
“No,” the Don said. “That would expose you, reveal your power, and no matter how delicately handled, could lead to danger. It is too complicated. David, what would you do?”
David puffed on his cigar, thoughtfully. He said, “Buy the Studio. Do a civilized businesslike thing. With our banks and communications companies, buy LoddStone.”
Cross was incredulous. “LoddStone is the oldest and richest film studio in the world. Even if you could put up the ten billion, they wouldn’t sell it to you. That’s simply not possible.”
Petie said in his joker’s voice, “David my old buddy, you can get your mitts on ten billion? The man whose life I saved? The man who said he could never repay me?”
Redfellow waved him away. “You don’t understand how big money works. It’s like whipped cream, you get a small amount and whip it up into a big froth with bonds, loans, stock shares. Money is not the problem.”
Cross said, “The problem is how to get Bantz out of the way. He controls the Studio and whatever his faults, he is loyal to Marrion’s wishes. He would never agree to selling the Studio.”
“I’ll go out there and give him a kiss,” Petie said.
Now the Don made his decision. He said to Redfellow, “Carry out your plan. Get it done. But with all caution. Pippi and Croccifixio will be at your command.”
“One more thing,” Giorgio said to Redfellow. “Bobby Bantz, by the terms of Eli Marrion’s will, has total command over the Studio for the next five years. But Marrion’s son and daughter have more stock in the company than Bantz. Bantz can’t get fired but if the Studio is sold, the new owners will have to pay him off. So that’s the problem you have to solve.”
David Redfellow smiled and puffed on his cigar. “Just like the old days. Don Clericuzio, the only help I need is yours. Some of those banks in Italy may be reluctant to gamble on such a venture. Remember, we will have to pay a big premium over the actual worth of the Studio.”
“Don’t worry,” the Don said. “I have a lot of money in those banks.”
Pippi De Lena had watched all this with a wary eye. What disturbed him was the openness of this meeting. By procedure only the Don, Giorgio, and David Redfellow should have been present. Pippi and Cross could have been given orders separately to help Redfellow. Why had they been let in on these secrets? Even more important, why were Dante, Petie, and Vincent brought into the circle? All this was not like the Don Clericuzio he knew, who always kept his plans as secret as possible.
Vincent and Rose Marie were helping the Don up the stairs to go to bed. He had stubbornly refused to have a lift chair installed on the railings.
As soon as they were out of sight, Dante turned to Giorgio and said furiously, “And who gets the Studio when we own it? Cross?”
David Redfellow interrupted coolly. “I will own the Studio. I will