The Godfather: Part II Page #4

CLOSE ON THE PICTURES

Snapshots of a middle-aged man, handsome, Italian. There is

something familiar about him.

NERI (O.S.)

(continuing)

...American wife and two small kids.

We traced him and found that he's

in the country illegally, from

Sicily...

Michael looks at another picture. The same man. Only

younger, and dressed in Sicilian shepherd's clothing. We

remember him as FABRIZZIO...Michael's traitorous bodyguard

in Sicily.

NERI (O.S.)

...came over around 1956. Sponsored

by the Barzini Family.

Michael puts the pictures down.

MICHAEL:

It's him. Fabrizzio.

(almost to himself)

Revenge is a dish that tastes best

when it's cold.

NERI:

How do you want me to handle it?

Michael glances at Hagen, who has been waiting in the room.

MICHAEL:

Later. Tom?

Hagen brings him a folder; then, as Michael glances through

it:

HAGEN:

I've cleared it through the

Senator's chief aide, a man named

Turnbull. Turnbull's a heavy

gambler, and into us for over a

hundred grand, so I figure his

information is reliable.

Neri moves to the bar, to prepare Michael a drink.

HAGEN:

The Senator can be set up; but he

thinks of himself as a clean

politician. So it's got to be on

terms he can live with: campaign

contribution, donation to a

charitable cause that he controls,

things like that. If he gets even

the inkling that you think you're

buying him, he'll freeze up.

Nevada's a funny state, they like

things both ways here... All right.

Turnbull says the Senator will be

here at two-thirty, and he's been

primed. He knows you'll want to

meet with him alone, and he knows

it's about the Tropicana's license.

At any rate, he expects to be

introduced around to some of the

influential people here today, and

generally treated as an ordinary

guest. Just go light on him,

Mikey, sometimes the biggest crooks

don't like to think of themselves

as crooks...

Michael glances at Hagen, as though that last remark was

unnecessary.

HAGEN:

I'm sorry; of course, you know that.

MICHAEL:

Two-thirty. That gives me time to

see my boy.

HAGEN:

Connie's outside.

Michael doesn't want to see her.

HAGEN:

I promised; she said it was urgent.

Michael nods.

MICHAEL:

All right. Apologize to Pentangeli.

Neri opens the door; Hagen exits, and Connie steps in

impatiently, followed by Merle.

MICHAEL:

I said I would see my sister, alone.

MERLE:

I think this concerns me too.

(taking a cigarette

from the dispenser)

You don't, do you?

Connie steps forward, kisses Michael on the cheek.

CONNIE:

How are you, honey? You've met

Merle, haven't you. He was with me

in Vegas.

MICHAEL:

I saw him with you.

CONNIE:

We're going to Europe next week. I

want to get passage booked on the

Queen.

MICHAEL:

Why do you come to me? Why don't

you go to a travel agent?

MERLE:

We're going to get married first.

Michael is silent. Then he rises, and moves to the window

overlooking the lake.

MICHAEL:

The ink on your divorce isn't dry.

Your children see you on weekends;

your oldest boy, Michael Francis...

was in some trouble with the Reno

police over some petty theft that

you don't even know about.

CONNIE:

Michael...

MICHAEL:

You fly around the world with lazy

young men who don't have any love

for you, and use you like a whore.

CONNIE:

You're not my father!

MICHAEL:

Then why do you come to me?

CONNIE:

Because I need MONEY!

MICHAEL:

(softly)

Connie, I want to be reasonable

with you. You have a house here,

with us. You can live here with

your kids...and you won't be

deprived of anything. I don't know

much about Merle; I don't know what

he does for a living; what he lives

on. Why don't you tell him marriage

is really out of the question; and

that you can't see him any more.

He'll understand. But if you

disobey me, and marry this pimp...it

would disappoint me.

CONNIE:

It was my father's money; and I'm

entitled to what I need. Where is

Tom Hagen?

She turns angrily, leaving Michael standing face to face

with Merle.

MICHAEL:

Are you finished?

MERLE:

I think so.

MICHAEL:

Then out.

Merle puts out his cigarette and leaves, quickly.

EXT. TAHOE PAVILION - FULL VIEW - DAY

The orchestra has struck up a "Paul Jones," where two

concentric circles of young people march in opposite

directions, until the music stops. Then they take whomever

is opposite them as their new dance partner.

VIEW ON THE HARBOR AREA

Francesca and her twin, Gardner and their elite young

friends roar out of the private harbor, to get up on the

water skis. We notice ROCCO LAMPONE, move along a path

leading to a separate and more private boathouse. A small

covered craft approaches, ties off, and a group of three men

step on to the pathway, shake hands with Lampone - and

follow him to the large boathouse where Michael conducts his

business.

CLOSE VIEW:

Pentangeli has led Mama up to the dance floor, and is having

some difficulty with the orchestra.

PENTANGELI:

I can't believe that out of thirty

professional musicians, not one of

you is Italian!

(as the musicians laugh)

C'mon, give us a tarantella.

He waves his hands, conducting, and singing. The piano

starts a vamp, the drums uncertainly join in. A clarinet

starts to play "Pop Goes the Weasel," and soon the rest of

the orchestra is playing that. They look to Pentangeli for

approval. Disgusted, he goes back to his table, eating a

handful of canapes.

INT. THE BOATHOUSE - DAY

Rocco ushers an older Italian, bundled up against the cold

and wet of his boatride, to Michael.

The man shows respect to Michael, who quickly indicates that

Neri should get him a drink.

MICHAEL:

Rocco, his friends must be hungry.

See what you can do, but I'd like

to keep them away from the guests.

The older man, JOHNNY 'BLUE BOY' OLA, gestures to his

bodyguards, and they follow Lampone.

MICHAEL:

You know my lawyer, Tom Hagen.

Johnny Ola.

OLA:

Sure, I remember Tom from the old

days.

Tom shakes hands with Ola, remembering him, and his

importance.

MICHAEL:

Tom isn't going to sit in with us,

Johnny. He only handles specific

areas of the family business. Tom?

HAGEN:

Sure, Mikey.

He gathers up some of his papers, as the three men remain

silent, waiting for him to go before they talk. It's clear

Tom doesn't want to be excluded.

HAGEN:

If you need anything, just...

MICHAEL:

Just tell Rocco I'm waiting.

Hagen nods and leaves. As soon as the door closes:

OLA:

I just left our friend in Miami.

MICHAEL:

How is his health?

OLA:

Not good.

MICHAEL:

Is there anything I can do; anything

I can send?

OLA:

He appreciates your concern,

Michael, and your respect.

There's a KNOCK on the door; a moment, and then Rocco

quietly enters and takes his place without disturbing the

conversation.

OLA:

The hotel's registered owners are

one Jacob Lawrence, and Sidney

Barclay, both Beverly Hills

attorneys. In reality it's split

between the Old Lakeville Road

Group from Cleveland, and our

friend in Miami. He takes care of

others outside the country, you

know who I mean. Meyer Klingman

runs the store, and does all right,

but I've been instructed to tell

you, that if you move him out, our

friend in Miami will go along with

you.

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