The Godfather Page #18

BONASERA:

What do you wish me to do?

DON CORLEONE:

(staring at the table)

I want you to use all your powers,

all your skill, as you love me. I

do not want his mother to see him

as he is.

He draws down the gray blanket.

BONASERA lets out a gasp of horror at what he sees:

The bullet-smashed face of SONNY CORLEONE.

EXT NITE:
TOLL BOOTHS (SPRING 1946)

SONNY extends his hand with a coin at the toll booth.

A car suddenly swerves in front of him, trapping him in the

booth, and in incredible rally of machine gun fire greets

him, coming through and smashing the windows of the toll

booths on both side of him, and from the front window of the

car blocking him.

The windows of his car are shot out.

Bullet holes puncture the doors of his car.

His hand, with the coin in it, falls inside the car.

His arms, shoulders are riddled by the fire, and still it

continues, as though the ASSASSINS cannot take a chance that

he will survive it.

Suddenly, he lets out an enormous ROAR, like a bull, and

actually, opens the door, and steps out of the car, UNDER

fire.

His face is hit; and finally he falls to the ground.

A FULL SHOT...as the ASSASSINS scramble for their cars and

make off in the distance.

SONNY's BODYGUARDS stop a safe distance away, realizing they

are too late.

INT NITE:
DON'S LIVING ROOM (SPRING 1946)

View on HAGEN's ashen face in the living room. He is silent

a moment, and then:

HAGEN:

(quietly)

OK. Go to Clemenza's house and

tell him to come here right away.

He'll tell you what to do.

The MEN leave him alone. He is quiet, standing in the

middle of the living room a moment. He looks in the

direction of the kitchen, where he can see fragments of MAMA

moving around.

INT NITE:
UPSTAIRS (SPRING 1946)

TOM proceeds up stairs, and quietly in the direction of the

DON's room. He opens the DON's door. Looks in.

INT NITE:
DON'S BEDROOM (SPRING 1946)

The DON in his hospital bed. Asleep under sedation. HAGEN

hesitates. He cannot go in; he cannot tell the OLD MAN. He

closes the door.

INT NITE:
DON'S OFFICE (SPRING 1946)

HAGEN alone in the office. He is drinking. He looks up at

the sound of cars; the CAPOREGIMES are arriving. Then he

hears footsteps.

The door opens; and in a robe, with slippers, DON CORLEONE

slowly enters the room. He walks directly to his stuffed

armchair, sits down. His face is stern, as he looks into

HAGEN's eyes.

DON CORLEONE:

Give me a drop of anisette.

HAGEN rises, and pours a glass for the OLD MAN.

DON CORLEONE:

My wife was weeping before she fell

asleep, outside my window I saw my

caporegimes to the house, and it is

midnight. So, Consigliere of mine,

I think you should tell your Don

what everyone knows.

HAGEN:

(quietly)

I didn't tell Mama anything. I was

about to come up and wake you and

tell you. Just now.

DON CORLEONE:

But you needed a drink first.

HAGEN:

Yes.

DON CORLEONE:

Now you've had your drink.

Pause.

HAGEN:

They shot Sonny on the Causeway.

(pause)

He's dead.

DON CORLEONE blinks. One feels that just for a second he

loses all physical strength; he clasps his hands in front of

him on the top of the desk and looks into HAGEN's eyes.

DON CORLEONE:

I want no inquiries made. No acts

of vengeance.

(pause)

Consigliere, arrange a meeting with

the heads of the five

families...this war stops now.

He rises and unsteadily leaves the room, turns...

DON CORLEONE:

Call Bonasera...he will do me a

service.

And leaves. HAGEN moves to the phone; dials...

HAGEN:

This is Tom Hagen; I'm calling for

Don Corleone, at his request.

BONASERA (O.S.)

Yes, I understand I'm listening.

HAGEN:

You owe the Don a service. He has

no doubt that you will repay it.

EXT DAY:
BANK BUILDING (SPRING 1946)

Day in Manhattan. An impressive Bank Building in the

financial center of New York. Many limousines are parked,

uniforms and plain-clothed CHAUFFEURS waiting quietly.

INT DAY:
BOARD ROOM (SPRING 1946)

The Board Room of a bank, daylight shines in the windows.

CARLO TRAMONTI, an impressive, handsome middle-aged man,

sits quietly, smoking a Di Napoli cigar, OUR VIEW moves to a

MAN sitting to his left, and a little to the rear, and

settles on JOSEPH ZALUCHI, a moon-faced amiable-looking man;

as the view continues, around the table, we HEAR:

DON CORLEONE (O.S.)

I want to thank you all for coming.

I consider it a service done to me

personally and I am in the debt of

each and every one of you.

Especially those of you who have

traveled from such distances as

California, St. Louis, Kansas City;

and New Orleans...

The VIEW PASSES to FRANK FALCONE and ANTHONY MOLINARI, both

younger than any of the others; then on to DOMENICK PANZA,

short and squat sitting in a wheelchair; then around the

table to DON VINCENENZO FORLENZA, who is whispering to his

JEWISH ASSISTANT; the VIEW PASSES on to ANTHONY STRACCI, an

older man, sipping from a drink and smoking a cigar; OTTILIO

CUNEO, in his middle sixties with a jolly round face; then

DON PHILLIP TATTAGLIA, a delicate older man with dyed hair

and a pencil mustache; and finally, EMILIO BARZINI, in his

early sixties, a man to 'respect'; whom we had seen at

CONNIE's Wedding.

DON CORLEONE:

Ah well, let's get down to business.

We are all honorable men here, we

don't have to give assurances as if

we were lawyers.

(he sits, gazes out

at them, and sighs)

How did things ever go so far?

Well, no matter. A lot of

foolishness has come to pass. It

was so unfortunate, so unnecessary.

The VIEW examines the room once again, as the DON speaks. A

large, clicking board is changing numbers at various times,

and two tapes, showing the fluctuations of the Market during

the day's trading, and projected above.

DON CORLEONE pauses; and TOM HAGEN hands him a cold drink.

DON CORLEONE:

Tattaglia has lost a son; I have

lost a son. We are quits. Let

there be a peace...

(he gestures

expressively,

submissively, with

his hands)

That is all I want...

BARZINI:

Don Corleone is too modest. He had

the judges and politicians in his

pocket and he refused to share them.

His refusal is not the act of a

friend. He takes the bread out of

the mouths of our families. Times

have changed, it's not like the old

days where everyone can go his own

way. If Don Corleone had all the

judges and politicians in New York,

then he must share them or let

others use them. Certainly he can

present a bill for such services,

we're not Communists, after all.

But he has to let us draw water

from the well. It's that simple.

DON CORLEONE:

My friends, I didn't refuse out of

malice. You all know me. When

have I ever refused an accommodation?

But why, this time? Because I

think this drug business will

destroy us in the years to come.

It's not like whiskey or gambling

or even women which most people

want and is forbidden them by the

pezzonovante of the Church and the

Government. But drugs? No. Even

policemen, who help us in gambling

and other things would refuse to

help us in drugs. But...I am

willing to do whatever all of you

think is necessary.

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