Michael nodded. He had brought it off. Albert Neri was his man to the death. And of
course it was a trick learned from the Don himself. While learning the business,
undergoing the long days of tutelage by his father, Michael had one time asked, "How
come you used a guy like Luca Brasi? An animal like that?"
The Don had proceeded to instruct him. "There are men in this world," he said, "who
go about demanding to be killed. You must have noticed them. They quarrel in gambling
games, they jump out of their automobiles in a rage if someone so much as scratches
their fender, they humiliate and bully people whose capabilities they do not know. I have
seen a man, a fool, deliberately infuriate a group of dangerous men, and he himself
without any resources. These are people who wander through the world shouting, 'Kill
me. Kill me.' And there is always somebody ready to oblige them. We read about it in
the newspapers every day. Such people of course do a great deal of harm to others
also.
"Luca Brasi was such a man. But he was such an extraordinary man that for a long
time nobody could kill him. Most of these people are of no concern to ourselves but a
Brasi is a powerful weapon to be used. The trick is that since he does not fear death
and indeed looks for it, then the trick is to make yourself the only person in the world
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that he truly desires not to kill him. He has only that one fear, not of death, but that you
may be the one to kill him. He is yours then."
It was one of the most valuable lessons given by the Don before he died, and Michael
had used it to make Neri his Luca Brasi.
And now, finally, Albert Neri, alone in his Bronx apartment, was going to put on his
police uniform again. He brushed it carefully. Polishing the holster would be next. And
his policeman's cap too, the visor had to be cleaned, the stout black shoes shined. Neri
worked with a will. He had found his place in the world, Michael Corelone had placed
his absolute trust in him, and today he would not fail that trust.
Chapter 31
On that same day two limousines parked on the Long Beach mall. One of the big cars
waited to take Connie Corleone, her mother, her husband and her two children to the
airport. The Carlo Rizzi family was to take a vacation in Las Vegas in preparation for
their permanent move to that city. Michael had given Carlo the order, over Connie's
protests. Michael had not bothered to explain that he wanted everyone out of the mall
before the Corleone-Barzini Families' meeting. Indeed the meeting itself was top secret.
The only ones who knew about it were the capos of the Family.
The other limousine was for Kay and her children, who were being driven up to New
Hampshire for a visit with her parents. Michael would have to stay in the mall; he had
affairs too pressing to leave.
The night before Michael had also sent word to Carlo Rizzi that he would require his
presence on the mall for a few days, that he could join his wife and children later that
week. Connie had been furious. She had tried to get Michael on the phone, but he had
gone into the city. Now her eyes were searching the mall for him, but he was closeted
with Tom Hagen and not to be disturbed. Connie kissed Carlo good-bye when he put
her in the limousine.
"If you don't come out there in two days, I'll come back to get you," she threatened
him.
He gave her a polite husbandly smile of sexual complicity. "I'll be there," he said.
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She hung out the window. "What do you think Michael wants you for?" she asked. Her
worried frown made her look old and unattractive.
Carlo shrugged. "He's been promising me a big deal. Maybe that's what he wants to
talk about. That's what he hinted anyway." Carlo did not know of the meeting scheduled
with the Barzini Family for that night.
Connie said eagerly, "Really, Carlo?"
Carlo nodded at her reassuringly. The limousine moved off through the gates of the
mall.
It was only after the first limousine had left that Michael appeared to say good-bye to
Kay and his own two children. Carlo also came over and wished Kay a good trip and a
good vacation. Finally the second limousine pulled away and went through the gate.
Michael said, "I'm sorry I had to keep you here, Carlo. It won't be more than a couple
of days."
Carlo said quickly, "I don't mind at all."
"Good," Michael said. "Just stay by your phone and I'll call you when I'm ready for you.
I have to get some other dope before. OK?"
"Sure, Mike, sure," Carlo said. He went into his own house, made a phone call to the
mistress he was discreetly keeping in Westbury, promising he would try to get to her
late that night. Then he got set with a bottle of rye and waited. He waited a long time.
Cars started coming through the gate shortly after noontime. He saw Clemenza get out
of one, and then a little later Tessio came out of another. Both of them were admitted to
Michael's house by one of the bodyguards. Clemenza left after a few hours, but Tessio
did not reappear.
Carlo took a breath of fresh air around the mall, not more than ten minutes. He was
familiar with all the guards who pulled duty on the mall, was even friendly with some of
them. He thought he might gossip a bit to pass the time. But to his surprise none of the
guards today were men he knew. They were all strangers to him. Even more surprising,
the man in charge at the gate was Rocco Lampone, and Carlo knew that Rocco was of
too high a rank in the Family to be pulling such menial duty unless something
extraordinary was afoot.
Rocco gave him a friendly smile and hello. Carlo was wary. Rocco said, "Hey, I
thought you were going on vacation with the Don?"
Carlo shrugged. "Mike wanted me to stick around for a couple of days. He has
something for me to do."
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"Yeah," Rocco Lampone said. "Me too. Then he tells me to keep a check on the gate.
Well, what the hell, he's the boss." His tones implied that Michael was not the man his
father was; a bit derogatory.
Carlo ignored the tone. "Mike knows what he's doing," he said. Rocco accepted the
rebuke in silence. Carlo said so long and walked back to the house. Something was up,
but Rocco didn't know what it was.
Michael stood in the window of his living room and watched Carlo strolling around the
mall. Hagen brought him a drink, strong brandy. Michael sipped at it gratefully. Behind
him, Hagen said, gently, "Mike, you have to start moving. It's time."
Michael sighed. "I wish it weren't so soon. I wish the old man had lasted a little
longer."
"Nothing will go wrong," Hagen said. "If I didn't tumble, then nobody did. You set it up
real good."
Michael turned away from the window. "The old man planned a lot of it. I never
realized how smart he was. But I guess you know."
"Nobody like him," Hagen said. "But this is beautiful. This is the best. So you can't be
too bad either."
"Let's see what happens," Michael said. "Are Tessio and Clemenza on the mall?"
Hagen nodded. Michael finished the brandy in his glass. "Send Clemenza in to me. I'll
instruct him personally. I don't want to see Tessio at all. Just tell him I'll be ready to go
to the Barzini meeting with him in about a half hour. Clemenza's people will take care of
him after that."
Hagen said in a noncommittal voice, "There's no way to let Tessio off the hook?"
"No way," Michael said.
Upstate in the city of Buffalo, a small pizza parlor on a side street was doing a rush