Omerta: A Novel by Mario Puzo (English) Paperback Book

Description: Omerta by Mario Puzo Puzos final novel of Mafia intrigue tells the story of Astorre Viola, the adopted Sicilian "nephew" of the last great American Don. While Don Raymonde Apriles own children went on to respectable careers, Astorre is carefully trained. And when the Don is murdered, Astorre Viola will claim his destiny. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description To Don Raymonde Apriles children he was a loyal family member, their fathers adopted "nephew." To the FBI he was a man who would rather ride his horses than do Mob business. No one knew why Aprile, the last great American Don, had adopted Astorre Viola many years before in Sicily; no one suspected how he had carefully trained him . . . and how, while the Dons children claimed respectable careers in America, Astorre Viola waited for his time to come.Now his time has arrived. The Don is dead, his murder one bloody act in a drama of ambition and deceit--from the deadly compromises made by an FBI agent to the greed of two crooked NYPD detectives and the frightening plans of a South American mob kingpin. In a collision of enemies and lovers, betrayers and loyal soldiers, Astorre Viola will claim his destiny. Because after all these years, this moment is in his blood. . . . Author Biography Mario Puzo was born in New York and, following military service in World War II, attended New Yorks New School for Social Research and Columbia University. His bestselling novel The Godfather was preceded by two critically acclaimed novels, The Dark Arena and The Fortunate Pilgrim. In 1978, he published Fools Die, followed by The Sicilian, The Fourth K, and the second installment in his Mafia trilogy, The Last Don. Mario Puzo also wrote many screenplays, including those for Earthquake, Superman, and all three Godfather movies, for which he received two Academy Awards. He died in July 1999 at his home on Long Island, New York, at the age of seventy-eight, just after completing the manuscript of Omerta. Review "[A] deft and passionate last novel by the Balzac of the Mafia."--Time "A SPLENDID PIECE OF CRIME FICTION . . . A FITTING CAP TO A TREMENDOUS CAREER . . . Through it all, Puzo keeps the heat on and keeps the reader enthralled with his characters and his story."--The Denver Post Review Quote "[A] deft and passionate last novel by the Balzac of the Mafia." --Time "A SPLENDID PIECE OF CRIME FICTION . . . A FITTING CAP TO A TREMENDOUS CAREER . . . Through it all, Puzo keeps the heat on and keeps the reader enthralled with his characters and his story." --The Denver Post Excerpt from Book PROLOGUE 1967 N THE STONE-FILLED VILLAGE of Castellarnmare del Golfo facing the dark Sicilian Mediterranean, a great Mafia Don lay dying. Vincenzo Zeno was a man of honor, who all his life had been loved for his fair and impartial judgment, his help to those in need, and his implacable punishment of those who dared to oppose his will. Around him were three of his former followers, each of whom had gone on to achieve his own power and position: Raymonde Aprile from Sicily and New York, Octavius Bianco from Palermo, and Benito Craxxi from Chicago. Each owed him one last favor. Don Zeno was the last of the true Mafia chiefs, having all his life observed the old traditions. He extracted a tariff on all business, but never on drugs, prostitution, or other crime of any kind. And never did a poor man come to his house for money and go away empty-handed. He corrected the injustices of the law-the highest judge in Sicily could make his ruling, but if you had right on your side, Don Zeno would veto that judgment with his own force of will, and arms. No philandering youth could leave the daughter of a poor peasant without Don Zeno persuading him into holy matrimony. No bank could foreclose on a helpless farmer without Don Zeno interfering to put things right. No young lad who hungered for a university education could be denied it for lack of money or qualification. If they were related to his cosca, his clan, their dreams were fulfilled. The laws from Rome could never justify the traditions of Sicily and had no authority; Don Zeno would overrule them, no matter what the cost. But the Don was now in his eighties, and over the last few years his power had begun to wane. Hed had the weakness to marry a very beautiful young girl, who had produced a fine male child. She had died in childbirth, and the boy was now two years old. The old man, knowing that the end was near and that without him his cosca would be pulverized by the more powerful coscas of Corleone and Clericuzio, pondered the future of his son. Now he thanked his three friends for the courtesy and respect they had shown in traveling so many miles to hear his request. Then he told them that he wanted his young son, Astorre, to be taken to a place of safety and brought up under different circumstances but in the tradition of a man of honor, like himself. "I can die with a clear conscience," he said, though his friends knew that in his lifetime he had decided the deaths of hundreds of men, "if I can see my son to safety. For in this two-year-old I see the heart and soul of a true Mafioso, a rare and almost extinct quality." He told them he would choose one of these men would to act as guardian to this unusual child, and with this responsibility would come great rewards. "It is strange," Don Zeno said, staring through clouded eyes. "According to tradition, it is the first son who is the true Mafioso. But in my case it took until I reached my eightieth year before I could make my dream come true. Im not a man of superstition, but if I were, I could believe this child grew from the soil of Sicily itself. His eyes are as green as olives that spring from my best trees. And he has the Sicilian sensibilityromantic, musical, happy. Yet if someone offends him, he doesnt forget, as young as he is. But he must be guided." "And so what do you wish from us, Don Zeno?" Craxxi asked. "For I will gladly take this child of yours and raise him as my own." Bianco stared at Craxxi almost resentfully. "I know the boy from when he was first born. He is familiar to me. I will take him as my own." Raymonde Aprile looked at Don Zeno but said nothing. "And you, Raymonde?" Don Zeno asked. Aprile said, "If it is me that you choose, your son will be my son." The Don considered the three of them, all worthy men. He regarded Craxxi the most intelligent. Bianco was surely the most ambitious and forceful. Aprile was a more restrained man of virtue, a man closer to himself. But he was merciless. Don Zeno, even while dying, understood that it was Raymonde Aprile who most needed the child. He would benefit most from the childs love, and he would make certain his son learned how to survive in their world of treachery. Don Zeno was silent for a long moment. Finally he said, "Raymonde, you will be his father. And I can rest in peace." The Dons funeral was worthy of an emperor. All the cosca chiefs in Sicily came to pay their respects, along with cabinet ministers from Rome, the owners of the great latifundia, and hundreds of subjects of his widespread cosca. Atop the black horse-drawn hearse, two-year-old Astorre Zeno, a fiery-eyed baby attired in a black frock and black pillbox hat, rode as majestically as a Roman emperor. The cardinal of Palermo conducted the service and proclaimed memorably, "In sickness and in health, in unhappiness and despair, Don Zeno remained a true friend to all." He then intoned Don Zenos last words: "I commend myself to God. He will forgive my sins, for I have tried every day to be just." And so it was that Astorre Zeno was taken to America by Raymonde Aprile and made a part of his own household. CHAPTER 1 WHEN THE STURZO TWINS, Franky and Stace, pulled into Heskows driveway, they saw four very tall teenagers playing basketball on the small house court. Franky and Stace got out of their big Buick, and John Heskow came out to meet them. He was a tall, pear-shaped man; his thin hair neatly ringed the bare top of his skull, and his small blue eyes twinkled. "Great timing," he said. "Theres someone I want you to meet." The basketball game halted. Heskow said proudly, "This is my son, Jocko." The tallest of the teenagers stuck out his huge hand to Franky. "Hey," Franky said. "How about giving us a little game?" Jocko looked at the two visitors. They were about six feet tall and seemed in good shape. They both wore Ralph Lauren polo shirts, one red and the other green, with khaki trousers and rubber-soled shoes. They were amiable-looking, handsome men, their craggy features set with a graceful confidence. They were obviously brothers, but Jocko could not know they were twins. He figured them to be in their early forties. "Sure," Jocko said, with boyish good nature. Stace grinned. "Great! We just drove three thousand miles and have to loosen up." Jocko motioned to his companions, all well over six feet, and said, "Ill take them on my side against you three." Since he was the much better player, he thought this would give his fathers friends a chance. "Take it easy on them," John Heskow said to the kids. "Theyre just old guys futzing around." It was midafternoon in December, and the air was chilly enough to spur the blood. The cold Long Island sunlight, pale yellow, glinted off the glass roofs and walls of Heskows flower sheds, his front business. "A million bucks," Stace said. "Thats a lot of money." "My client knows its a big step to hit Don Aprile," Heskow said. "He wants the best help. Cool shooters and silent partners with mature heads. And you guys are simply the best." Franky said, "And there are not many guys who would take the risk." "Yeah," Stace said. "You have to live with it the rest of your life. Somebody coming after you, plus the cops, and the feds. " "I swear to you," Heskow said, "the NYPD wont go all out. The FBI will not take a hand." "And the Dons old friends?" Stace asked. "The dead have no friends." Heskow paused for a moment. "When the Don retired, he cut all ties. Theres nothing to worry about." Franky said to Stace, "Isnt it funny, in all our deals, they always tell us theres nothing to worry about?" Stace laughed. "Thats because theyre not the shooters. John, youre an old friend. We trust you. But what if youre wrong? Anybody can be wrong. What if the Don still has old friends? You know how he operates. No mercy. We get nailed, we dont just get killed. Well spend a couple of hours in hell first. Plus our families are at stake under the Dons rule. That means your son. Cant play for the NBA in his grave. Maybe we should know whos paying for this." Heskow leaned toward them, his light skin a scarlet red as if he were blushing. "I cant tell you that. You know that. Im just the broker. And Ive thought of all that other shit. You think Im fucking stupid? Who doesnt know who the Don is? But hes defenseless. I have assurances of that from the top levels. The police will just go through the motions. The FBI cant afford to investigate. And the top Mafia heads wont interfere. Its foolproof." "I never dreamed that Don Aprile would be one of my marks," Franky said. The deed appealed to his ego. To kill a man so dreaded and respected in his world. "Franky, this is not a basketball game," Stace warned. "If we lose, we dont shake hands and walk off the court." "Stace, its a million bucks," Franky said. "And John never steered us wrong. Lets go with it." Stace felt their excitement building. What the hell. He and Franky could take care of themselves. After all, there was the million bucks. If the truth were told, Stace was more mercenary than Franky, more business-oriented, and the million swung him. "OK," Stace said, "were in. But God have mercy on our souls if youre wrong." He had once been an altar boy "What about the Don being watched by the FBIT Franky asked. Details ISBN0345432401 Author Mario Puzo Short Title OMERTA Pages 384 Language English ISBN-10 0345432401 ISBN-13 9780345432407 Media Book DEWEY FIC Year 2001 Residence Long Island, NY, US Birth 1920 Death 1999 DOI 10.1604/9780345432407 Subtitle A Novel Place of Publication New York Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2001-05-01 NZ Release Date 2001-05-01 US Release Date 2001-05-01 Replaces 9780345443960 UK Release Date 2001-05-01 Publisher Random House USA Inc Format Paperback Publication Date 2001-05-01 Imprint Random House Inc Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:2615297;

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