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At the meeting that night, in the corner room library of Don Corleone's house, were

the Don himself, Michael, Tom Hagen, Carlo Rizzi, and the two caporegimes, Clemenza

and Tessio.

The atmosphere of the meeting was by no means so congenial as in former days.

Ever since Don Corleone had announced his semiretirement and Michael's take-over of

the Family business, there had been some strain. Succession in control of such an

enterprise as the Family was by no means hereditary. In any other Family powerful

caporegimes such as Clemenza and Tessio might have succeeded to the position of

Don. Or at least they might have been allowed to split off and form their own Family.

Then, too, ever since Don Corleone had made the peace with the Five Families, the

strength of the Corleone Family had declined. The Barzini Family was now indisputably

the most powerful one in the New York area; allied as they were to the Tattaglias, they

now held the position the Corleone Family had once held. Also they were slyly whittling

down the power of the Corleone Family, muscling into their gambling areas, testing the

Corleones' reactions and, finding them weak, establishing their own bookmakers.

The Barzinis and Tattaglias were delighted with the Don's retirement. Michael,

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formidable as he might prove to be, could never hope to equal the Don in cunning and

influence for at least another decade. The Corleone Family was definitely in a decline.

It had, of course, suffered serious misfortunes. Freddie had proved to be nothing more

than an innkeeper and ladies' man, the idiom for ladies' man untranslatable but

connotating a greedy infant always at its mother's nipple – in short, unmanly. Sonny's

death too, had been a disaster. Sonny had been a man to be feared, not to be taken

lightly. Of course he had made a mistake in sending his younger brother, Michael, to kill

the Turk and the police captain. Though necessary in a tactical sense, as a long-term

strategy it proved to be a serious error. It had forced the Don, eventually, to rise from his

sickbed. It had deprived Michael of two years of valuable experience and training under

his father's tutelage. And of course an Irish as a Consigliori had been the only

foolishness the Don had ever perpetrated. No Irish man could hope to equal a Sicilian

for cunning. So went the opinion of all the Families and they were naturally more

respectful to the Barzini-Tattaglia alliance than to the Corleones. Their opinion of

Michael was that he was not equal to Sonny in force though more intelligent certainly,

but not as intelligent as his father. A mediocre successor and a man not to be feared too

greatly.

Also, though the Don was generally admired for his statesmanship in making the

peace, the fact that he had not avenged Sonny's murder lost the Family a great deal of

respect. It was recognized that such statesmanship sprang out of weakness.

All this was known to the men sitting in the room and perhaps even believed by a few.

Carlo Rizzi liked Michael but did not fear him as he had feared Sonny. Clemenza, too,

though he gave Michael credit for a bravura performance with the Turk and the police

captain, could not help thinking Michael too soft to be a Don. Clemenza had hoped to

be given permission to form his own Family, to have his own empire split away from the

Corleone. But the Don had indicated that this was not to be and Clemenza respected

the Don too much to disobey. Unless of course the whole situation became intolerable.

Tessio had a better opinion of Michael. He sensed something else in the young man:

a force cleverly kept hidden, a man jealously guarding his true strength from public gaze,

following the Don's precept that a friend should always underestimate your virtues and

an enemy overestimate your faults.

The Don himself and Tom Hagen were of course under no illusions about Michael.

The Don would never have retired if he had not had absolute faith in his son's ability to

retrieve the Family position. Hagen had been Michael's teacher for the last two years

and was amazed at how quickly Michael grasped all the intricacies of the Family

business. Truly his father's son.

Clemenza and Tessio were annoyed with Michael because he had reduced the

strength of their regimes and had never reconstituted Sonny's regime. The Corleone

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Family, in effect, had now only two fighting divisions with less personnel than formerly.

Clemenza and Tessio considered this suicidal, especially with the Barzini-Tattaglia

encroachments on their empires. So now they were hopeful these errors might be

corrected at this extraordinary meeting convened by the Don.

Michael started off by telling them about his trip to Vegas and Moe Greene's refusing

the offer to buy him out. "But we'll make him an offer he can't refuse," Michael said.

"You already know the Corleone Family plans to move its operations West. We'll have

four of the hotel casinos on the Strip. But it can't be right away. We need time to get

things straightened out." He spoke directly to Clemenza. "Pete, you and Tessio, I want

you to go along with me for a year without questioning and without reservations. At the

end of that year, both of you can split off from the Corleone Family and be your own

bosses, have your own Families. Of course it goes without saying we'd maintain our

friendship, I wouldn't insult you and your respect for my father by thinking otherwise for

a minute. But up until that time I want you just to follow my lead and don't worry. There

are negotiations going on that will solve problems that you think are not solvable. So

just be a little patient."

Tessio spoke up. "If Moe Greene wanted to talk to your father, why not let him? The

Don could always persuade anybody, there was never anyone who could stand up to

his reasonableness."

The Don answered this directly. "I've retired. Michael would lose respect if I interfered.

And besides that's a man I'd rather not talk to."

Tessio remembered the stories he'd heard about Moe Greene slapping Freddie

Corleone around one night in the Vegas hotel. He began to smell a rat. He leaned back.

Moe Greene was a dead man, he thought. The Corleone Family did not wish to

persuade him.

Carlo Rizzi spoke up. "Is the Corleone Family going to stop operating in New York

altogether?"

Michael nodded. "We're selling the olive oil business. Everything we can, we turn over

to Tessio and Clemenza. But, Carlo, I don't want you to worry about your job. You grew

up in Nevada, you know the state, you know the people. I'm counting on you being my

right-hand man when we make our move out there."

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Carlo leaned back, his face flushed with gratification. His time was coming, he would

move in the constellations of power.

Michael went on. "Tom Hagen is no longer the Consigliori. He's going to be our lawyer

in Vegas. In about two months he'll move out there permanently with his family. Strictly

as a lawyer. Nobody goes to him with any other business as of now, this minute. He's a

lawyer and that's all. No reflection on Tom. That's the way I want it. Besides, if I ever

need any advice, who's a better counselor than my father?" They all laughed. But they

had gotten the message despite the joke. Tom Hagen was out; he no longer held any

power. They all took their fleeting glances to check Hagen's reaction but his face was

impassive.

Clemenza spoke up in his fat man's wheeze. "Then in a year's time we're on our own,

is that it?"

"Maybe less," Michael said courteously. "Of course you can always remain part of the

Family, that's your choice. But most of our strength will be out West and maybe you'd

do better organized on your own."

Tessio said quietly, "In that case I think you should give us permission to recruit new

men for our regimes. Those Barzini bastards keep chiseling in on my territory. I think

maybe it would be wise to teach them a little lesson in manners."

Michael shook his head. "No. No good. Just stay still. All that stuff will be negotiated,

everything will be straightened out before we leave."

Tessio was not to be so easily satisfied. He spoke to the Don directly, taking a chance

on incurring Michael's ill will. "Forgive me, Godfather, let our years of friendship be my

excuse. But I think you and your son are all wrong with this Nevada business. How can

you hope for success there without your strength here to back you up? The two go hand

in hand. And with you gone from here the Barzini and the Tattaglia will be too strong for

us. Me and Pete will have trouble, we'll come under their thumb sooner or later. And

Barzini is a man not to my taste. I say the Corleone Family has to make its move from

strength, not from weakness. We should build up our regimes and take back our lost

territories in Staten Island at least."

The Don shook his head. "I made the peace, remember, I can't go back on my word."

Tessio refused to be silenced. "Everybody knows Barzini gave you provocation since

then. And besides, if Michael is the new chief of the Corleone Family, what's to stop him

from taking any action he sees fit? Your word doesn't strictly bind him."

Michael broke in sharply. He said to Tessio, very much the chief now, "There are

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things being negotiated which will answer your questions and resolve your doubts. If my

word isn't enough for you, ask your Don."

But Tessio understood he had finally gone too far. If he dared to question the Don he

would make Michael his enemy. So he shrugged and said, "I spoke for the good of the

Family, not for myself. I can take care of myself."

Michael gave him a friendly smile. "Tessio, I never doubt you in any way. I never did.

But trust in me. Of course I'm not equal to you and Pete in these things, but after all I've

my father to guide me. I won't do too badly, we'll all come out fine."

The meeting was over. The big news was that Clemenza and Tessio would be

permitted to form their own Families from their regimes. Tessio would have his gambling

and docks in Brooklyn, Clemenza the gambling in Manhattan and the Family contacts in

the racing tracks of Long Island.

The two caporegimes left not quite satisfied, still a little uneasy. Carlo Rizzi lingered

hoping that the time had come when he finally would be treated as one of the family, but

he quickly saw that Michael was not of that mind. He left the Don, Tom Hagen and

Michael alone in the corner library room. Albert Neri ushered him out of the house and

Carlo noticed that Neri stood in the doorway watching him walk across the floodlit mall.

In the library the three men had relaxed as only people can who have lived years

together in the same house, in the same family. Michael served some anisette to the

Don and scotch to Tom Hagen. He took a drink for himself, which he rarely did.

Tom Hagen spoke up first. "Mike, why are you cutting me out of the action?"

Michael seemed surprised. "You'll be my number one man in Vegas. We'll be

legitimate all the way and you're the legal man. What can be more important than that?"

Hagen smiled a little sadly. "I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about Rocco

Lampone building a secret regime without my knowledge. I'm talking about you dealing

direct with Neri rather than through me or a caporegime. Unless of course you don't

know what Lampone's doing."

Michael said softly, "How did you find out about Lampone's regime?"

Hagen shrugged. "Don't worry, there's no leak, nobody else knows. But in my position

I can see what's happening. You gave Lampone his own living, you gave him a lot of

freedom. So he needs people to help him in his little empire. But everybody he recruits

has to be reported to me. And I notice everybody he puts on the payroll is a little too

good for that particular job, is getting a little more money than that particular exercise is

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worth. You picked the right man when you picked Lampone, by the way. He's operating

perfectly."

Michael grimaced. "Not so damn perfect if you noticed. Anyway the Don picked

Lampone."

"OK," Tom said, "so why am I cut out of the action?"

Michael faced him and without flinching gave it to him straight. "Tom, you're not a

wartime Consigliori. Things may get tough with this move we're trying to make and we

may have to fight. And I want to get you out of the line of fire too, just in case."

Hagen's face reddened. If the Don had told him the same thing, he would have

accepted it humbly. But where the hell did Mike come off making such a snap judgment?

"OK," he said, "but I happen to agree with Tessio. I think you're going about this all

wrong. You're making the move out of weakness, not strength. That's always bad.

Barzini is like a wolf, and if he tears you limb from limb, the other Families won't come

rushing to help the Corleones."

The Don finally spoke. "Tom, it's not just Michael. I advised him on these matters.

There are things that may have to be done that I don't want in any way to be

responsible for. That is my wish, not Michael's. I never thought you were a bad

Consigliori, I thought Santino a bad Don, may his soul rest in peace. He had a good

heart but he wasn't the right man to head the Family when I had my little misfortune.

And who would have thought that Fredo would become a lackey of women? So don't

feel badly. Michael has all my confidence as you do. For reasons which you can't know,

you must have no part in what may happen. By the way, I told Michael that Lampone's

secret regime would not escape your eye. So that shows I have faith in you."

Michael laughed. "I honestly didn't think you'd pick that up, Tom."

Hagen knew he was being mollified. "Maybe I can help," he said.

Michael shook his head decisively. "You're out, Tom."

Tom finished his drink and before he left he gave Michael a mild reproof. "You're

nearly as good as your father," he told Michael. "But there's one thing you still have to

learn."

"What's that?" Michael said politely.

"How to say no," Hagen answered.

Michael nodded gravely. "You're right," he said. "I'll rememher that."

When Hagen had left, Michael said jokingly to his father, "So you've taught me

everything else. Tell me how to say no to people in a way they'll like."