Крестный отец

           Buthiseyeskeptflickeringtowardthehugesilkpursethebrideworeonherrightshoulderandwhichwasnowstuffedfullofmoneyenvelopes.Howmuchdidithold?Tenthousand?Twentythousand?CarloRizzismiled.Itwasonlythebeginning.Hehad,afterall,marriedintoaroyalfamily.Theywouldhavetotakecareofhim.

           Inthecrowdofguestsadapperyoungmanwiththesleekheadofaferretwasalsostudyingthesilkpurse.FromsheerhabitPaulieGattowonderedjusthowhecouldgoabouthijackingthatfatpocketbook.Theideaamusedhim.Butheknewitwasidle,innocentdreamingassmallchildrendreamofknockingouttankswithpopguns.Hewatchedhisboss,fat,middle-agedPeterClemenzawhirlingyounggirlsaroundthewoodendancefloorinarusticandlustyTarantella.Clemenza,immenselytall,immenselyhuge,dancedwithsuchskillandabandon,hishardbellylecherouslybumpingthebreastsofyounger,tinierwomen,thatalltheguestswereapplaudinghim.Olderwomengrabbedhisarmtobecomehisnextpartner.Theyoungermenrespectfullyclearedoffthefloorandclappedtheirhandsintimetothemandolin’swildstrumming.WhenClemenzafinallycollapsedinachair,PaulieGattobroughthimaglassoficyblackwineandwipedtheperspiringJovelikebrowwithhissilkhandkerchief.Clemenzawasblowinglikeawhaleashegulpeddownthewine.ButinsteadofthankingPauliehesaidcurtly,"Nevermindbeingadancejudge,doyourjob.TakeawalkaroundtheneighborhoodandseeeverythingisOK."Paulieslidawayintothecrowd.