The Sicilian - Mario Puzo [88]
“Surely you worry about his immortal soul,” Father Dodana said. “The next time he comes to visit you send for me and I will hear his confession.”
Maria Lombardo had no love for priests though she was religious. But this man impressed her. She knew Turi would never make a confession, but perhaps he would have use for a holy man sympathetic to his cause. She told the priest that her son would be informed of his offer.
Father Dodana said, “I would even go into the mountains to help him. Tell him that. My only business is to save souls in danger of hell. What a man does is his own business.”
Turi Guiliano came to visit his mother a week later. She urged him to see the priest and make a confession. Perhaps Father Dodana would give him Holy Communion. She would be easier in mind if he were shriven of his sins.
Turi Guiliano was very interested, which surprised his mother. He agreed to see the priest and he sent Aspanu Pisciotta to the church to escort him back to the Guiliano home. As Guiliano had suspected, when Father Dodana appeared, he moved too much like a man of action; he was too vigorous and he was too sympathetic to Guiliano’s cause.
Father Dodana said, “My son, I will listen to your confession in the privacy of your bedroom. And then I will give you Communion. I have all my things here.” He patted the wooden case under his arm. “Your soul will be as pure as your mother’s, and if some evil befalls you, you will go straight to heaven.”
Maria Lombardo said, “I’ll make coffee and some food for you and the holy father.” She went into the kitchen.
“You can confess me here,” Turi Guiliano said with a smile.
Father Dodana glanced at Aspanu Pisciotta. “Your friend will have to leave the room,” he said.
Turi laughed. “My sins are public. They appear in every newspaper. My soul is pure otherwise, except for one thing. I must confess to a suspicious nature. So I would like to see what is in that box you carry under your arm.”
“The wafers of Holy Communion,” Father Dodana said. “I will show you.” He started to open the box but at that moment Pisciotta pressed a pistol against the back of his neck. Guiliano took the box away from the priest. At that moment they looked into each other’s eyes. Guiliano opened the box. A dark blue automatic nestled in a bed of holy velvet glinted up at him.
Pisciotta saw Guiliano’s face go pale, his eyes with their silver circles go black with a subdued fury.
Guiliano closed the box and looked up at the priest. “I think we should go to the church and pray together,” he said. “We will say a prayer for you and we will say a prayer for Quintana. We will pray to the good Lord to take the evil out of Quintana’s heart and the greediness out of yours. How much did he promise to pay you?”
Father Dodana was not worried. The other would-be assassins had been let off so lightly. He shrugged and then smiled. “The government reward and five million lire extra.”
“A good price,” Guiliano said. “I don’t blame you for trying to make your fortune. But you deceived my mother and that I can’t forgive. Are you a real priest?”
“Me?” Father Dodana said contemptuously. “Never. But I thought no one would suspect me.”
The three of them walked down the street together, Guiliano carrying the wooden box, Pisciotta trailing behind. They entered the church. Guiliano made Father Dodana kneel at the altar, then took the automatic out of the wooden box. “You