Michael smiled back at her. "I want you to think about it," he said.
"Did he really kill six men?" Kay asked.
"That's what the newspapers claimed (утверждали)," Mike said. "Nobody ever proved it (никогда никому не удалось это доказать; ever – когда-либо). But there's another story about him that nobody ever tells. It's supposed to be so terrible (предполагается, что она /история/ столь ужасна) that even my father won't talk about it. Tom Hagen knows the story and he won't tell me. Once I kidded him (я подшучивал, поддразнивал), I said, 'When will I be old enough to hear that story about Luca?' and Tom said, 'When you're a hundred.’ Michael sipped (отхлебнул; sip – маленький глоток) his glass of wine. "That must be some story (это, наверное, та еще история). That must be some Luca."
In the garden Kay Adams was struck by the violet fury imprinted on the face of Luca Brasi. She asked about him. Michael had brought Kay to the wedding so that she would slowly and perhaps without too much of a shoсk, absorb the truth about his father. But so far she seemed to regard the Don as a slightly unethical businessman. Michael decided to tell her part of the truth indirectly. He explained that Luca Brasi was one of the most feared men in the Eastern underworld. His great talent, it was said, was that he could do a job of murder all by himself, without confederates, which automatically made discovery and conviction by the law almost impossible. Michael grimaced and said, "I don't know whether all that stuff is true. I do know he is sort of a friend to my father."
For the first time Kay began to understand. She asked a little incredulously, "You're not hinting that a man like that works for your father?"
The hell with it, he thought. He said, straight out, "Nearly fifteen years ago some people wanted to take over my father's oil importing business. They tried to kill him and nearly did. Luca Brasi went after them. The story is that he killed six men in two weeks and that ended the famous olive oil war." He smiled as if it were a joke.
Kay shuddered. "You mean your father was shot by gangsters?"
"Fifteen years ago," Michael said. "Everything's been peaceful since then." He was afraid he had gone too far.
"You're trying to scare me," Kay said. "You just don't want me to marry you." She smiled at him and poked his ribs with her elbow. "Very clever."
Michael smiled back at her. "I want you to think about it," he said.
"Did he really kill six men?" Kay asked.
"That's what the newspapers claimed," Mike said. "Nobody ever proved it. But there's another story about him that nobody ever tells. It's supposed to be so terrible that even my father won't talk about it. Tom Hagen knows the story and he won't tell me. Once I kidded him, I said, 'When will I be old enough to hear that story about Luca?' and Tom said, 'When you're a hundred.’ Michael sipped his glass of wine. "That must be some story. That must be some Luca."
Luca Brasi was indeed a man to frighten the devil in hell himself (способный испугать самого дьявола в аду [devl]). Short, squat (коренастый: «короткий и толстый»; to squat – сидеть на корточках), massive-skulled (с массивным черепом: skull), his presence sent out alarm bells of danger (его присутстствие сигнализировало = распространяло ощущение опасности: alarm [∂’lα:m] – сигнал тревоги; alarm bell – набат, сигнальный звонок). His face was stamped into a mask of fury (на его лицо «была нанесена /вечная/ печать» гнева, ярости, на его лице была застывшая маска гнева). The eyes were brown but with none of the warmth of that color (но безо всякого тепла, свойственного этому цвету), more a deadly tan (скорее мертвенный желто-коричневый цвет). The mouth was not so much cruel as lifeless (не столько жестоким, сколько безжизненным); thin, rubbery (резиновым = словно резиновым) and the color of veal (телятины).
Brasi's reputation for violence (жестокости, насилия, применения силы) was awesome (устрашающей, необычайной: «вызывающей благоговение, почтительный страх»; awe [o:] – благоговейный страх, трепет) and his devotion (преданность) to Don Corleone legendary. He was, in himself, one of the great blocks that supported (поддерживали) the Don's power structure. His kind was a rarity (такие как он были большой редкостью: «его вид был редкостью»).
Luca Brasi did not fear the police, he did not fear society (общество [s∂’saı∂tı]), he did not fear God, he did not fear hell, he did not fear or love his fellow man. But he had elected (избрал), he had chosen, to fear and love Don Corleone. Ushered into the presence of the Don (приведенный к Дону; to usher – провожать, сопровождать; вводить; показывать места; usher – швейцар; капельдинер; билетер), the terrible Brasi held himself stiff (неподвижно, застывший) with respect. He stuttered over (пробормотал; to stutter – заикаться, запинаться) the flowery congratulations he offered (цветистые поздравления; to offer – предлагать; выдвигать; приносить /жертву/, возносить /молитвы/) and his formal hope that the first grandchild would be masculine (мужского пола ['ma:skjulın]). He then handed the Don an envelope stuffed with cash as a gift for the bridal couple.
So that was what he wanted to do. Hagen noticed the change in Don Corleone. The Don received Brasi as a king greets a subject (подобно тому, как король привествует подданного) who has done him an enormous service (огромную услугу [ı'no:m∂s]), never familiar but with regal respect (вовсе не фамильярно, но с королевским уважением, почетом ['ri:g∂l]). With every gesture, with every word, Don Corleone made it clear to Luca Brasi that he was valued (ценим). Not for one moment did he show surprise at the wedding gift being presented to him personally. He understood.
The money in the envelope was sure to be more than anyone else had given. Brasi had spent many hours deciding on the sum, comparing it to what the other guests might offer (сравнивая с тем, что могли бы предложить, преподнести другие гости). He wanted to be the most generous to show that he had the most respect, and that was why he had given his envelope to the Don personally, a gaucherie (неловкость, нарушение этикета [g∂u∫∂’ri:]; gauche [g∂u∫] – неловкий, неуклюжий, нескладный: «левый» /франц./) the Don overlooked (не стал обращать внимания, игнорировал) in his own flowery sentence of thanks. Hagen saw Luca Brasi's face lose its mask of fury (как утратило), swell with pride and pleasure (стало набухать от гордости и удовольствия). Brasi kissed the Don's hand before he went out the door that Hagen held open. Hagen prudently (предусмотрительно, благоразумно = на всякий случай) gave Brasi a friendly smile which the squat man acknowledged (признал = на которую ответил [∂k'nolıdG]) with a polite stretching (вежливым растягиванием) of rubbery, veal-colored lips.