Английский язык с Крестным Отцом
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police officer but got the worst of it. In fact he got a broken jaw and lost some teeth. His
friends took him out to the Corleone Family houses at Long Beach. The following night
the police captain he had the fight with was gunned down and Michael Corleone
disappeared. Vanished. We have our contacts, our informers. They all point the finger at
Michael Corleone but we have no evidence for a court of law. The waiter who witnessed
the shooting doesn't recognize a picture of Mike but he may recognize him in person.
And we have Sollozzo's driver, who refuses to talk, but we might make him talk if we
have Michael Corleone in our hands. So we have all our people looking for him, the FBI
is looking for him, everybody is looking for him. So far, no luck, so we thought you might
be able to give us a lead (подсказать
Kay said coldly, "I don't believe a word of it." But she felt a bit sick knowing the part
about Mike getting his jaw broken must be true. Not that that would make Mike commit
murder.
"Will you let us know if Mike contacts you?" Phillips asked.
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Kay shook her head. The other detective, Siriani, said roughly, "We know you two
have been shacking up together. We have the hotel records and witnesses. If we let
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that information slip to the newspapers your father and mother would feel pretty lousy.
Real respectable people like them wouldn't think much of a daughter shacking up with a
gangster. If you don't come clean right now I'll call your old man in here and give it to
him straight."
Kay looked at him with astonishment. Then she got up and went to the door of the
study and opened it. She could see her father standing at the living-room window,
sucking at his pipe. She called out, "Dad, can you join us?" He turned, smiled at her,
and walked to the study. When he came through the door he put his arm around his
daughter's waist and faced the detectives and said, "Yes, gentlemen?"
When they didn't answer, Kay said coolly to Detective Siriani, "Give it to him straight,
officer."
Siriani flushed. "Mr. Adams, I'm telling you this for your daughter's good. She is mixed
up with a hoodlum we have reason to believe committed a murder on a police officer.
I'm just telling her she can get into serious trouble unless she cooperates with us. But
she doesn't seem to realize how serious this whole matter is. Maybe you can talk to
her."
"That is quite incredible," Mr. Adams said politely.
Siriani jutted his jaw. "Your daughter and Michael Corleone have been going out
together for over a year. They have stayed overnight in hotels together registered as
man and wife. Michael Corleone is wanted for questioning in the murder of a police
officer. Your daughter refuses to give us any information that may help us. Those are
the facts. You can call them incredible but I can back everything up."
"I don't doubt your word, sir," Mr. Adams said gently. "What I find incredible is that my
daughter could be in serious trouble. Unless you're suggesting that she is a" – here his
face became one of scholarly doubt – "a 'moll (любовница
it's called."
Kay looked at her father in astonishment. She knew he was being playful in his
donnish (педантичный, высокомерный, чванный) way and she was surprised that he
could take the whole affair so lightly.
Mr. Adams said firmly, "However, rest assured that if the young man shows his face
here I shall immediately report his presence to the authorities. As will my daughter. Now,
if you will forgive us, our lunch is growing cold."
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He ushered the men out of the house with every courtesy and closed the door on their
backs gently but firmly. He took Kay by the arm and led her toward the kitchen far in the
rear of the house, "Come, my dear, your mother is waiting lunch for us."
By the time they reached the kitchen, Kay was weeping silently, out of relief from
strain, at her father's unquestioning affection. In the kitchen her mother took no notice of
her weeping, and Kay realized that her father must have told her about the two
detectives. She sat down at her place and her mother served her silently. When all
three were at the table her father said grace (молитва /перед едой/) with bowed head.
Mrs. Adams was a short stout woman always neatly dressed, hair always set. Kay
had never seen her in disarray (беспорядок /в одежде/; смятение [dis'rei]). Her
mother too had always been a little disinterested in her, holding her at arm's length. And
she did so now. "Kay, stop being so dramatic. I'm sure it's all a great deal of fuss about
nothing at all. After all, the boy was a Dartmouth boy, he couldn't possibly be mixed up