The Sicilian - Mario Puzo [5]
Inspector Velardi answered in a contemptuous voice. “That would be my choice,” he said. “But Don Croce loves him like a son.”
Stefan Andolini stared at the Inspector malevolently. Father Benjamino ducked his head as he drank from his glass. But Don Croce said sternly to the Inspector, “We are all friends here, we must speak the truth to Michael. Guiliano holds a trump card. He has a diary he calls his Testament. In it he gives proofs that the government in Rome, certain officials, have helped him during his years of banditry, for purposes of their own, political purposes. If that document becomes public the Christian Democratic government would fall and we would have the Socialists and Communists ruling Italy. Inspector Velardi agrees with me that anything must be done to prevent that. So he is willing to help Guiliano escape with the Testament with the understanding that it will not be made public.”
“Have you seen this Testament?” Michael asked. He wondered if his father knew about it. His instructions had never mentioned such a document.
“I know of its contents,” Don Croce said.
Inspector Velardi said sharply, “If I could make the decision I would say kill Guiliano and be damned to his Testament.”
Stefan Andolini glared at the Inspector with a look of hatred so naked and intense that for the first time Michael realized that here was a man almost as dangerous as Don Croce himself. Andolini said, “Guiliano will never surrender and you are not a good enough man to put him in his grave. You would be much wiser to look after yourself.”
Don Croce raised his hand slowly and there was silence at the table. He spoke slowly to Michael, ignoring the others. “It may be I cannot keep my promise to your father to deliver Guiliano to you. Why Don Corleone concerns himself in this affair, I can’t tell you. Be assured he has his reasons and that those reasons are good. But what can I do? This afternoon you go to Guiliano’s parents, convince them their son must trust me and remind those dear people that it was I who had them released from prison.” He paused for a moment. “Then perhaps we can help their son.”
In his years of exile and hiding, Michael had developed an animal instinct for danger. He disliked Inspector Velardi, he feared the murderous Stefan Andolini, Father Benjamino gave him the creeps. But most of all Don Croce sent alarm signals clanging through his brain.
All the men at the table hushed their voices when they spoke to Don Croce, even his own brother, Father Benjamino. They leaned toward him with bowed heads waiting for his speech, they even stopped chewing their food. The servants circled around him as if he were a sun, the bodyguards scattered around the garden constantly kept their eyes on him, ready to spring forward at his command and tear everyone to pieces.
Michael said carefully, “Don Croce, I am here to follow your every wish.”
The Don nodded his huge head in benediction, folded his well-shaped hands over his stomach and said in his powerful tenor voice, “We must be absolutely frank with each other. Tell me, what are your plans for Guiliano’s escape? Speak to me as a son to his father.”
Michael glanced quickly at Inspector Velardi. He would never speak frankly before the head of the Security Police of Sicily. Don Croce understood immediately. “Inspector Velardi is completely guided by my advice,” he said. “You may trust him as you do me.”
Michael raised his glass of wine to drink. Over it he could see the guards watching them, spectators at a play. He could see Inspector Velardi grimace, not liking even the diplomacy of the Don’s speech, the message being clear that Don Croce ruled him and his office. He saw the frown on the murderous huge-lipped face of Stefan Andolini. Only Father Benjamino refused to meet his gaze and bowed his head. Michael drank the glass of cloudy white wine and a servant immediately refilled it. Suddenly the garden seemed a dangerous place.
He knew