[EXT. PENTANGELI'S LONG BEACH ESTATE - DAY]
[Part of the old estate of Don Corleone. By now, the wall has been torn down, and the other houses sold off.]
[His car is parked; Pentangeli steps out, still angry over the confrontation. As he approaches the house, he notices something strained about the bodyguards who discreetly guard his house. No one seems to want to tell him.]
PENTANGELI: What's up?
[Pentangeli glances over to the front door foyer.]
[PENTANGELI'S VIEW]
[The strange and silent Bussetta, the man who now always travels with Michael.]
[INT. PENTANGELI'S HOUSE - DAY]
[Pentangeli enters; he sees his WIFE, standing oddly in the hallway.]
PENTANGELI *Sicilian*: What's this?
WIFE: Michael Corleone.
PENTANGELI: One Michael Corleone...Dove?
WIFE *Sicilian*: He's in your study.
[He knows it is very very serious for Michael to be here in his home. He automatically moves into his study.]
[INT. PENTANGELI'S STUDY - DAY]
[Michael stands quietly in the room. This was once his father's study, although it is totally redecorated. Pentangeli starts sweating, and moves toward the young Don, and kisses his hand.]
PENTANGELI: Don Corleone, I wish you let me know you was coming. We could have prepared something for you.
MICHAEL: I didn't want you to know I was coming. You heard what happened in my home?
PENTANGELI: Michael, yes, we was all relieved...
MICHAEL *furious*: In my home! In the same room where my wife was sleeping; where my children come in their pajamas, and play with their toys.
[He's terrified Pentangeli with his anger; then, just as suddenly, he talks quietly, calmly.]
MICHAEL: I want you to help me take my revenge.
PENTANGELI: Michael, anything. What is it I can do for you?
MICHAEL: I want you to settle these troubles with the Rosato Brothers.
PENTANGELI: I was just going to contact you, Michael; we just had a 'sit-down' - in fact, I just come from there.
MICHAEL: I want you to settle on their terms.
PENTANGELI: Mike, I don't understand. Don't ask me to do that.
MICHAEL: Trust me; do as I ask.
PENTANGELI: It would be the beginning of the end for my family. How can I keep all my other territories in like if I let two wise-guys stand up and demand this and that, and then give it to them?
MICHAEL: Frankie...do you respect me? Do I have your loyalty?
PENTANGELI: Always... But sometimes I don't understand. I know I'll never have your kind of brains, in big deals. But Mike, this is a street thing. And Hyman Roth in Miami is behind the Rosato Brothers.
MICHAEL: I know.
PENTANGELI: Then why do you want me to lay down to them?
MICHAEL *coldly, but convincing*: Frankie, Roth tried to have me k**ed. I'm sure it was him, but I don't know yet why.
PENTANGELI: Jesus Christ, Michael, then let's hit 'em now, while we still got the muscle.
MICHAEL: This was my father's old study. When I was a kid, we had to be quiet when we played near here. When I was older, I learned many things from him here. I was happy that this house never went to strangers; first Clemenza took it over, and then you. My father taught me, in this room, never to act until you know everything that's behind things. Never. If Hyman Roth sees that I interceded with you in the Rosato Brothers' favor, he'll think his relationship with me is still sound. I'm going somewhere to meet him tomorrow. We have friends in some very important business that we're making. Do this for me; you make the peace with the Rosato Brothers on their terms. Let the word out that I forced you; you're not happy wit hit, but acquiesced, just because of me. It will get back to Hyman Roth. Do this, Frankie. You can trust me.
PENTANGELI: Sure, Mike. I'll go along.
MICHAEL: Good.
[They embrace; Michael kisses him. He looks at the young Don, thoughtfully.]
[INT. TROPICANA HOTEL - CLOSE VIEW - DAY]
[The money trays are carefully unloaded from the gaming tables, and put on a cart with others. The cart, preceded and followed by security guards, is then wheeled through the casino, into a private, counting room.]
[INT. COUNTING ROOM - MED. VIEW - DAY]
[The guards leave the room; the door is locked after them, leaving only Hagen. Neri and an ACCOUNTANT, a very fat man. The numbered boxes are opened, and cash and checks are spread out on the counting table. The accountant begins with amazing speed and sk**, to count and divide the money.]
NERI: Fifteen percent skim?
HAGEN: Twenty-five this time.
[The accountant stops, and looks up to Neri.]
NERI: It might show.
HAGEN: Mike wants it.
[Neri nods, and the accountant continues. Neri opens a door, allowing a sandy-haired man, a COURIER, into the room. The cream is placed into his pouch personally by Neri.]
NERI: We've never sent this much with one courier.
HAGEN *to the courier*: Your plans are a little different this time. You skip Miami, and go straight to Geneva. It's to be deposited to this number. *handing him a small envelope* And it's got to be there by Monday morning, no slip-up.
COURIER: I think I was 'picked-up' last trip. That hour layover I had at Kennedy. I went over and bought a paper...
[Neri has finished putting the 'creamed' money into the pouch.]
NERI: Those were our people.
COURIER: Okay, just thought you should know.
[He is just about to close and lock the pouch, when Hagen gestures that he should wait, and adds more stacks of carefully packaged bills into the pouch. Then Neri locks it, and handcuffs it to the courier's arm, looking inquiringly at Hagen.]
HAGEN: Let them count.
[The courier is shown out through a private door, and then the first door is opened. Two accountants come in with the guards, and the trays are opened, and the counting process is begun all over again, this time with the State Tally sheets.]
[INT. TROPICANA CORRIDOR - MOVING VIEW - DAY]
[The courier continues on his way; followed by Hagen and Neri.]
NERI: What's up?
HAGEN: No questions.
NERI: I got to ask questions, Tom, there's three million dollars cash in that pouch; Mike is gone and I have no word from him.
HAGEN: Al, as far as you're concerned, I'm the Don.
NERI: How do I know you haven't gone into business for yourself?
[This hurts Tom; but he is a reasonable man, and he knows he owes Neri some explanation.]
HAGEN: You've been through a lot with us so I'm going to give you the truth. Mike knows it was someone within the compound that set him up for that hit. So nobody is to know where he is, not you, not Rocco, not even his brother Fredo. Sorry, Al, I know how you feel about Mike...but he still remembers Tessio.
[EXT. KEY WEST - NIGHT]
[Michael is led to a desolate, night-lit private dock. He is followed by the ever-present Bussetta, and they are helped onto a light-weight, luxury cabin cruiser. The crew cast off various ropes, and the boat sets out into the night.]
[EXT. TAHOE ESTATE - DAY]
[A seaplane lands nicely by the private Corleone harbor; Hagen disembarks with his inevitable overloaded briefcase. He continues down the ramp, past several bu*tonmen, dressed in summer casual attire, and who resemble secret service men rather than thugs. His wife THERESA lies on a blanket on the great lawn, with her youngest children, who run to their father for a kiss.]
THERESA: Hungry?
HAGEN: Just a little.
THERESA: I've invited Mama, Sandra and the kids for barbecue.
HAGEN: What about Kay?
THERESA: I couldn't find her. She's been so broody, sticks to herself.
[EXT. TAHOE LAWN BARBECUE - MED. VIEW - DAY]
[Hagen and Sonny's boys are throwing a football around on the lawn; the littler kids running after them. Coals are burning in the old style stone barbecue, and several tables are set for the family. In the distance, there is always evidence of the bodyguards. Theresa, Mama and Sandra prepare the steaks. Hagen relaxes in a sports shirt.]
HAGEN: Let me try Kay.
[He crosses the lawn, to the house on the beach where Michael and his family live. Is about to knock on the door:]
HAGEN'S SON: Hey, Pop, heads up!
[The football is flying in his direction; he catches it and throws it back. Then he cracks the door open, and peeks in.]
[INT. MICHAEL'S HOUSE - DAY]
HAGEN: Kay?
[He steps in, the beautiful summer living room is neat, but
empty.]
HAGEN: Anyone hungry?
[He moves through the house more quickly; into the dining and recreation room areas. A cat jumps off a pile of cushions and runs across the room.]
HAGEN: Hello?
SANDRA *O.S.*: She's gone, Tom.
[Sandra has followed him into Michael's house.]
HAGEN: What do you mean gone?
SANDRA: The Barretts from Rubicon Bay came by in a new speedboat. Rocco tried to say she wasn't in, but Kay spotted them and asked if they would take her and the kids for a ride. That was three hours ago.
HAGEN *furious*: Why didn't someone tell me!
SANDRA: I wanted to tell you alone; your wife doesn't know what's going on.
[Hagen rushes out of the house.]
[EXT. TAHOE LAWN - DAY]
[Hagen moves quickly out of Michael's house; moving across the lawn to the boathouse.]
HAGEN'S SON: Hey, Dad!
[This time he ignores the thrown ball, and moves directly to Rocco, who is by some men near the boathouse.]
HAGEN: Rocco!
ROCCO: I know. I went down to the Barrett house. But she's gone. They drove her and the kids to North Tahoe airport.
HAGEN: Goddamn it, where were you?
ROCCO: I was in my house. Willy tried, but it would have taken some strong-arm to stop her, and he figured you wouldn't want that.
[INT. THE BOATHOUSE - DAY]
[They enter the boathouse.]
HAGEN *to one of the men*: Get me a Scotch and water.
[The man hurries behind the bar.]
ROCCO: She took a flight to San Francisco. We figure she's going to connect to New Hampshire; her parents' place.
HAGEN *almost to himself*: I can't let him down.
[He swallows the drink down in several gulps. And then looks up to his men watching him. He's embarra**ed to have shown such weakness.]
HAGEN: All right, let me think a minute.
[Rocco clears the men out.]
ROCCO: Me too, Tom?
HAGEN: Yeah, give me a minute.
[Rocco gone, Hagen moves behind the enormous bar, and pours
himself a giant drink. He drinks that, and calms himself.]
HAGEN: Oh Christ, Pop. It was so good when you were alive. I felt I could handle anything...
[EXT. VIEW FROM BOAT - FULL VIEW - DAY]
[A beautiful coastal view of a tropical Caribbean city. An extraordinary view, high buildings, palm trees, all set right on the bay.]
[MED. CLOSE VIEW ON MICHAEL]
[On the cruiser, Bussetta a little distance away, watching, but never speaking. The dark-skinned CAPTAIN of the cruiser keeps pointing repeatedly.]
CAPTAIN: Habana, Habana.
[EXT. HAVANA STREET - MOVING VIEW - DAY]
[Michael and Bussetta are driven in a Mercury sedan, making its way through the streets of Havana.]
[CLOSE VIEW ON MICHAEL looking out the window.]
[MICHAEL'S POV]
[Crowded streets, occasional roving bands playing for the tourists; there is much evidence of tourism: Americans walking through the streets with cameras. Occasionally, we see a Cuban with a row of numbers attached to his hat, carrying a big sheet of the daily lottery numbers. From all of these street impressions, the city is booming with activity, but there is also much evidence of who*es and pimps and little children begging in the streets.]
[MED. VIEW]
[The big American car stops at an intersection. Bussetta is sitting in the forward pa**enger side; while Michael is in the back. He hears tapping on the window; he turns and sees four Cuban boys tapping on his window and extending their hands, and rubbing their stomachs as though they were hungry. The Cuban driver rolls down his window and shouts them away in Spanish.]
[INT. HAVANA CASINO LOBBY - MOVING VIEW - NIGHT]
[Michael is led through a beautiful wooden lobby of the hotel, done in Spanish style, apparently just recently completed. He is approached by a thin, mousy man, SAM ROTH, who ushers him toward the casino entrance.]
SAM ROTH: Hiya, Mr. Corleone, I'm Sam Roth. Welcome to the Capri; my brother's upstairs. You wanta take a rest before you see him, or can I get you something, anything at all?
MICHAEL: No, I'm fine.
[He leads Michael into the main casino.]
SAM ROTH: This is it! We think it makes Vegas look like the corner crap game.
MICHAEL: Very impressive.
SAM ROTH: Jake, Jake, come over here. Mike, I want you to meet Jake Cohen; he manages the casino for us.
COHEN *appreciating Michael's status*: Mr. Corleone.
[Sam turns to Bussetta and extends his glad-hand.]
SAM ROTH: Pleasure to meet you, I'm sure...
[He gets no response whatsoever from Bussetta.]
[INT. PRESIDENTIAL PALACE - NIGHT]
[An extremely tall, well-built Cuban, tanned and wearing an attractive mustache, LEON, in his middle forties, reads from a prepared paper. His sentences are translated by a smaller man, standing to his rear.]
LEON *Spanish*: Most respected gentlemen, allow me to welcome you to the City of Havana, the Republic of Cuba on behalf of His Excellency, Fulgencio Batista.
[THE VIEW BEGINS TO MOVE along the various men gathered for
this meeting.]
LEON *O.S.*: I'd like to thank this distinguished group of American Industrialists, for continuing to work with Cuba, for the greatest period of prosperity in her entire history. Mr. William Proxmiro, representing the General Fruit Company... Messrs. Corngold and Dant, of the United Telephone and Telegraph Company; Mr. Petty, regional Vice-President of the Pan American Mining Corporation; and, of course, our friend Mr. Robert Allen, of South American Sugar. Mr. Nash of the American State Department. And Mr. Hyman Roth of Miami, and Michael Corleone of Nevada representing our Associates in Tourism and Leisure Activities.
[VIEW ON THE ENTIRE GROUP]
[Leon pauses to take a drink of water. Then proudly, he lifts a shiny yellow telephone for all to see.]
LEON: The President would like to take this opportunity to thank U T&T for their lovely gift: a solid gold telephone! He thought all you gentlemen would care to take a look at it.
[He hands the heavy phone set to one of his aides, and it is pa**ed in turn to each of the men in attendance.]
CORNGOLD: Your Excellency, perhaps you could discuss the status of rebel activity and how this may affect our businesses.
[MED. CLOSE VIEW ON MICHAEL]
[He receives the telephone, and glances at it before pa**ing it on to Hyman Roth.]
LEON *O.S.*: Of course. The rebel movement is basically unpopular, and since July of 1958 has been contained in the Oriente Province, in the mountains of the Sierra Muestre.
[Michael pa**es the phone on to Roth.]
LEON *continuing*: We began a highly successful offensive against them in March, and activities within the city itself are at a minimum. I can a**ure you we'll tolerate no guerrillas in the casinos or swimming pools!
[General subdued laughter.]
[A CUBAN STREET - LATE DAY]
[Police are stopping traffic. Michael's Mercury is among the cars; a police officer, seeing that some important person is being driven, walks up to the driver. He leans forward, and says something in Spanish to the driver. The driver, in turn, leans over to Michael.]
DRIVER: He says it will just be a short time and they'll let us through.
[Michael looks out the window.]
[MICHAEL'S VIEW]
[The old building has been totally surrounded by police and military vehicles. Right at this moment, they are waiting lazily, but soldiers are there with automatic weapons ready. There is a momentary commotion inside the building, and the men brace up. A Captain of the Army detachment says something in Spanish over a megaphone; and his men put their weapons at the ready, as other policemen lead a group of civilians out of the building with their hands up.]
[They are moved over to some military truck, where they are
frisked before being loaded.]
[All of a sudden, one of the civilian rebels breaks loose, and rushes toward the command vehicle. He hurls himself into the vehicle, as two police try to pull him out. A second later, and there is an explosion; the man obviously having hidden a grenade on his body, sacrificing his own life to take the life of the Captain. There is a commotion, but the military quickly quell it.]
[CLOSE VIEW ON MICHAEL watching. The police rush to Michael's car and guide it outside of the trouble area.]
[MED. VIEW]
[As they lead and escort the Mercury out of the area.]
[EXT. HAVANA COUNTRY CLUB - CLOSE VIEW - DAY]
[Some gla**es; rum is poured into them; then Coca Cola. Quarter limes are squeezed.]
SAM ROTH *O.S.*: Rum... Coca Cola...a squeeze of fresh lime...
[Sam prepares the drinks for his brother, Hyman, and a group of men, including Michael.]
MAN: Cuba Libres.
MICHAEL: I was told the Cubans now call this drink: "La Mentira."
ROTH: I still don't speak Spanish, Michael.
MICHAEL: It means... "The Lie."
[A moment's hesitation, then a few of the men laugh. Now two Cubans in white carry a table which has a lovely small cake on it.]
SAM ROTH: The cake is here.
[They all raise their gla**es to the old man.]
EVERYONE *ad lib*: Happy Birthday!
[Roth glances at the cake and its inscription, is pleased.]
ROTH: I hope my age is correct: I am always accurate about my age.
[Some laugh. He nods, and they begin to cut it, put a piece
on plates, and carry them to the different men.]
ROTH: Everything we've learned in Vegas is true here; but we can go further. The bigger, the swa*kier, the plusher the store, the more a sense of legitimacy, and the bigger business we do. *looking at the plate brought to him* A smaller piece. What we've proposed to the Cuban Government is that it put up half the cash on a dollar for dollar basis. *accepting a smaller piece* Thank you. We can find people in the United States who will put up our share for a small piece of the action, yet we will retain control.
ONE OF THE MEN: How much?
ROTH: A hundred million dollars. But only if this Government relaxes its restrictions on importing building materials; we'll need some new laws, too, but that will be no difficulty.
ANOTHER MAN :What are import duties now?
ROTH: As much as seventy percent. Also, I'm working out an arrangement with the Minister of Labor so that all our pit bosses, stick-men and Dealers, can be considered specialized technicians eligible for two year visas. As of now they're only allowed in Cuba for six months at a time. In short, we're in a full partnership with the Cuban Government.
[VIEW ON MICHAEL]
[Is handed a piece of cake. Roth moves over to a folder of documents.]
ROTH *continuing*: Here are applications from Friends all over the States. I understand Santo Virgilio in Tampa is trying to make his own deal. Well, the Cuban Government will brush him off. The Lakeville Road Boys are going to take over the Nacionale here. I'm planning a new hotel casino to be known as Riviera. The new Capri will go to the Corleone Family.
[MED. VIEW]
[The cake is sliced and carried to each of the men.]
ROTH: Then there's the Sevilla Biltmore; the Havana Hilton, which is going to cost twenty-four million -- Cuban banks will put up half, the Teamsters will bankroll the rest. Generally, there will be friends for all our friends including the Lieutenant Governor of Nevada; Eddie Levine of Newport will bring in the Pennino Brothers, Dino and Eddie; they'll handle actual casino operations. And seeing that all of his friends have been served, Roth raises his fork.]
ROTH: Enjoy.
MICHAEL: I saw an interesting thing today. A man was being arrested by the Military Police; probably an urban guerrilla. Rather than be taken alive, he exploded a grenade hidden in his jacket, taking the command vehicle with him.
[The various men look up as Michael eats his cake, wondering what the point of it is.]
MICHAEL: It occurred to me: the police are paid to fight, and the Rebels are not.
SAM ROTH: So?
MICHAEL: So, that occurred to me.
[VIEW ON ROTH]
[He understands Michael's point, if the others do not.]
ROTH: This country has had rebels for the last fifty years; it's part of their blood. Believe me, I know... I've been coming here since the twenties; we were running mola**es out of Havana when you were a baby. To trucks owned by your father. *he chuckles warmly over the memory* We'll talk when we're alone.
[And he returns his attention to the men who are gathered with him on his birthday.]
[EXT. ROTH'S PRIVATE TERRACE - DAY]
[Michael sits alone with the old man, on a terrace that overlooks the city.]
ROTH: You have to be careful what you say in front of the others... they frighten easy. It's always been that way, most men frighten easy.
MICHAEL: We're making a big investment in Cuba. That's my only concern.
ROTH: My concern is that the three million never arrived at Batista's numbered account in Switzerland. He thinks it's because you have second thoughts about his ability to stop the rebels.
MICHAEL: The money was sent.
ROTH: Then you have to trace it. Michael, people here look at me as a reliable man. I can't afford not to be looked on as a reliable man. But you know all that; there's nothing you can learn from me. You shouldn't have to put up with a sick old man as a partner.
MICHAEL: I wouldn't consider anyone else.
ROTH: Except the President of the United States.
[He laughs slyly, as though this is some private joke between them. Then his laughter becomes a cough, which he painfully stifles with a handkerchief.]
ROTH: If only I could live to see it, kid; to be there with you. How beautifully we've done it, step by step. Here, protected, free to make our profits without the Justice Department, the FBI; ninety miles away in partnership with a friendly government. Ninety miles, just a small step, looking for a man who desperately wants to be President of the United States, and having the cash to make it possible.
MICHAEL: You'll be there to see it; you'll be there.
[INT. MICHAEL'S SUITE - NIGHT]
[The telephone has just rung; Michael listens.]
OPERATOR: We have your call to Tahoe, Nevada, sir.
MICHAEL: Thank you. *click, click* Tom? Tom, is that you?
ROCCO *O.S.*: No, Tom's out of town. This is Rocco. Who is this?
[Michael is openly disturbed that Hagen is not there. He hangs up without answering.]
[EXT. NEW ENGLAND HOUSE - DAY]
[Tom Hagen steps out of a taxicab a bit tentatively, and then steps toward the door of a pleasant New England house. He rings the bell and waits, hat in hand. A moment later, the door opens, and Kay is standing there.]
KAY: I'm not surprised to see you, Tom.
[INT. SMALL ROOM - NEW ENGLAND HOUSE - MED. VIEW - DAY]
[Out to the yard, where we can see glimpses of little Anthony playing by himself.]
KAY *O.S.*: I can't love a man like that; I can't live with him, I can't let him be father to my children. Look.
[The little boy, moodily by himself.]
[VIEW ON KAY]
[Obviously moved.]
KAY: He's not like a little boy... he doesn't talk to me; he doesn't want to play; he doesn't like other children, he doesn't like toys. It's as though he's waiting for the time he can take his Father's place. *almost in tears* You know what he told me when he was four years old. He said he had k**ed his Grandfather...
[VIEW ON HAGEN]
[Listening, calmly.]
KAY: ... He said he had shot his Grandfather with a gun, and then he died in the garden. And he asked me... he asked me, Tom, if that meant now his father would shoot him out of... revenge. *she cries* How does a four year old boy learn the word... 'revenge'?
HAGEN: Kay... Kay...
[VIEW ON KAY]
KAY: What kind of a family is this... are we human beings? He knows his Father k**ed his Uncle Carlo. He heard Connie.
HAGEN: You don't know that's true. But Kay, just for the sake of an argument, let's a**ume it is, I'm not saying it is, remember, but... What if I gave you what might be some justification for what he did... or rather some possible justification for what he possibly did.
KAY: That's the first time I've seen the lawyer side of you, Tom. It's not your best side.
HAGEN: Okay, just hear me out. What if Carlo had been paid to help get Sonny k**ed? What if his beating of Connie that time was a deliberate plot to get Sonny out into the open? Then what? And what if the Don, a great man, couldn't bring himself to do what he had to do, avenge his son's d**h by k**ing his daughter's husband? What if that, finally, was too much for him, and he made Michael his successor, knowing that Michael would take that load off his shoulders, would take that guilt?
KAY: He's not the same as when I met him.
HAGEN: If he were, he'd be dead by now. You'd be a widow. You'd have no problem.
KAY: What the hell does that mean? Come on, Tom, speak out straight once in your life. I know Michael can't, but you're not Sicilian, you can tell a woman the truth; you can treat her like an equal, a fellow human being.
[There is a long silence.]
[Then Hagen shakes his head; he can tell her no more.]
HAGEN: If you told Michael what I've told you today, I'm a dead man.
KAY: When is it finally over? I want it to be over before my baby is born.
HAGEN: I don't know. I hope soon; but it's not over yet, and that's why you and the kids have to come back to me.
[He looks at her; it's clear that he has been entrusted with her safety and her children's. He is a kind, good man, and seems very nervous and overwrought.]
[VIEW ON THE WINDOW]
[Little Anthony is pressing his face against the gla** pane, as though he senses the adults are discussing something of importance to him.]