The Sicilian - Mario Puzo [85]
Don Croce nodded his head as if in agreement with all that had been said. But he did not speak. Guido Quintana, the least of the men present, said almost plaintively, “I am the Mayor of Montelepre and everybody knows I am one of the Friends. But nobody comes to me for judgment or redress or gifts. Guiliano rules the town and permits me to live there on his sufferance so as not to provoke a quarrel with you gentlemen. But I cannot make a living, I have no authority. I am a mere figurehead. While Guiliano lives, the Friends do not exist in Montelepre. I am not afraid of this lad. I faced him down once. Before he became a bandit. I do not think him a man to be feared. If this council agrees I will attempt to eliminate him. I have made plans and I only await your approval to execute them.”
Don Piddu of Caltanissetta and Don Arzana of Piani dei Greci nodded. Don Piddu said, “Where would be the difficulty? With our resources we can deliver his corpse to the Cathedral of Palermo and go to his funeral as we would to a wedding.”
The other chiefs, Don Marcuzzi of Villamura, Don Buccilla of Partinico, and Don Arzana voiced their approval. Then they waited.
Don Croce lifted his massive head. His spike of a nose impaled them each in turn as he spoke. “My dear friends, I agree with everything you feel,” he said. “But I think you underrate this young man. He is cunning beyond his years and perhaps as brave as any of us here. He will not be so easy to kill. Also I see a use for him in the future, not just for myself but for all of us. The Communist agitators are whipping the people of Sicily into a madness that makes them expect another Garibaldi, and we must make sure that Guiliano is not flattered into being their savior. I do not have to tell you the consequences to us if those savages ever come to rule Sicily. We must persuade him to fight on our side. Our position is not yet so secure that we can afford to throw away his strength by assassinating him.” The Don sighed, washed down a morsel of bread with a glass of wine and mopped his mouth daintily with his napkin. “Do me this one favor. Let me make a last effort to persuade him. If he refuses, then do what you feel you must do. I will give you your answer within three days’ time. Just let me make one last effort to come to a reasonable agreement.”
It was Don Siano who first bowed his head in agreement. After all, what reasonable man would be so impatient to commit murder that he could not wait three days? When they left, Don Croce summoned Hector Adonis to his home in Villaba.
The Don was peremptory with Adonis. “I have come to the end of my patience with your godson,” he said to the little man. “He must now be with us or against us. The kidnapping of Prince Ollorto was a direct insult to my person, but I am willing to forgive and forget. After all he is young, and I remember when I was his age I had his high spirits. As I have said always, I admire him for it. And believe me, I value his abilities. I would be overjoyed if he agreed to be my right hand. But he must recognize his place in the scheme of things. I have other chiefs