Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

He still thought it had all been set up too fast (подготовлено, спланировано слишком быстро). Clemenza had given him copies of the police mug shots (полицейских фотографий; mug – /пивная/ кружка; /сленг/ лицо, рот; mug shot – фотография /сделанная в полиции/) of the two punks, the dope (подсказку; dope – густое смазывающее вещество, смазка; to dope up – /сленг/ выискивать, выяснять) on where the punks went drinking every night to pick up bar girls. Paulie had recruited two of the strong-arms (громил) in the family and fingered the punks for them (указал). He had also given them their instructions. No blows on the top or the back of the head (никаких ударов по темени или затылку), there was to be no accidental fatality (не должно быть никаких случайных несчастных случаев; fatality [f∂'tælıtı] – рок, обреченность, фатальность; смерть /от несчастного случая/). Other than that (в остальном же) they could go as far as they liked. He had given them only one warning: "If those punks get out of the hospital in less than a month, you guys go back to driving trucks."

The two big men were getting out of the car. They were both ex-boxers who had never made it past the small clubs (которым никогда не удалось выбраться за пределы маленьких клубов) and had been fixed up by Sonny Corleone (были обеспечены /долей/; to fixed up – организовать, уладить, договориться; дать приют) with a little loan-shark action (loan-shark – гангстер-ростовщик, человек, ссужающий деньги под грабительские проценты; to loan – одалживать, ссужать + shark – акула) so that they could make a decent living (достойное существование, достойный заработок). They were, naturally, anxious to show their gratitude (стремились показать свою благодарность; anxious [‘æŋk∫∂s] – озабоченный, беспокоящийся; сильно желающий /чего-либо/).

Paulie Gatto hated quickie jobs, especially when they involved violence. He liked to plan things ahead. And something like tonight, even though it was punk stuff, could turn into serious business if somebody made a mistake. Now, sipping his beer, he glanced around, checking how the two young punks were making out with the two little tramps at the bar.

Paulie Gatto knew everything there was to know about those two punks. Their names were Jerry Wagner and  Kevin Moonan. They were both about twenty years old, good-looking, brown-haired, tall, well-built. Both were due to go back to college out of town in two weeks, both had fathers with political influence and this, with their college student classification, had so far kept them out of the draft. They were both also under suspended sentences for assaulting the daughter of Amerigo Bonasera. The lousy bastards, Paulie Gatto thought. Draft dodging, violating their probation by drinking in a bar after midnight, chasing floozies. Young punks. Paulie Gatto had been deferred from the draft himself because his doctor had furnished the draft board with documents showing that this patient, male, white, aged twenty-six, unmarried, had received electrical shock treatments for a mental condition. All false of course, but Paulie Gatto felt that he had earned his draft exemption. It had been arranged by Clemenza after Gatto had "made his bones" in the family business.

It was Clemenza who had told him that this job must be rushed through, before the boys went to college. Why the hell did it have to be done in New York, Gatto wondered. Clemenza was always giving extra orders instead of just giving out the job. Now if those two little tramps walked out with the punks it would be another night wasted.

He could hear one of the girls laughing and saying, "Are you crazy, Jerry? I'm not going in any car with you. I don't want to wind up in the hospital like that other poor girl." Her voice was spitefully rich with satisfaction. That was enough for Gatto. He finished up his beer and walked out into the dark street. Perfect. It was after midnight. There was only one other bar that showed light. The rest of the stores were closed. The precinct patrol car had been taken care of by Clemenza. They wouldn't be around that way until they got a radio call and then they'd come slow.

He leaned against the four-door Chevy sedan. In the back seat two men were sitting, almost invisible, although they were very big men. Paulie said, "Take them when they come out."

He still thought it had all been set up too fast. Clemenza had given him copies of the police mug shots of the two punks, the dope on where the punks went drinking every night to pick up bar girls. Paulie had recruited two of the strong-arms in the family and fingered the punks for them. He had also given them their instructions. No blows on the top or the back of the head, there was to be no accidental fatality. Other than that they could go as far as they liked. He had given them only one warning: "If those punks get out of the hospital in less than a month, you guys go back to driving trucks."