Don Pembruzzio wiped his forehead in exasperation. He knew when he put himself forward to be the new Godfather that he would be in for a rough ride but perhaps even he had underestimated the challenge ahead.
When he chose to delay the appointment of his caporegimes for 6 months so that he could whip the troops into shape, he knew there were whispers that he was leaving his flanks exposed. But sometimes, to make thin-crust pizza you have to slice a few chorizzos and grate a few people in their mozzarellas. If this was what it would take to sanitise the family, then so be it.
He looked up again at his consigliare, Oshinuzzi, who was telling him that another storm was brewing over the family finances. It was true that the Capos had come in only a few weeks before they had to make accounts but these were supposed to be elite Capos, who’d spent a long time in the business. Instead of accounts to turn the family business around, what they’d come up with was a fiasco.
“So you say we can get away with arranging a communion for the accounts?” he asked Oshinuzzi.
“Well, yeah, though I would really advise a confirmation; but fuhgedaboutit, we can do a communion.”
“Yeah, puhgedaboutit. Bazzabing bazzaboom.”
So, on the day all the families from the 36 districts were gathered to look at the accounts, there was no trace of it anywhere. Flash drives had been cleaned, emails hacked, offices raided. It was like all the numbers guys and bookies had been on vacation for the previous 3 months.
There was pandemonium but Don Pembruzzio told everyone to be calm, that it would be fixed.
“Get me Udomaggia”, he whispered to Oshinuzzi. Udomaggia was a capo and was Pembruzzio’s numbers guy. “We need to get zis right, once and po all.”
Udomaggia called a quick meeting of the bookies and let them know in no unclear terms that Don Pembruzzio was not pleased. They all went to work, hammering out new accounts, which went out to Don Pembruzzio, Oshinuzzi and all the families.
He thought he had done a good job and was therefore very surprised when his phone rang. It was the Consigliere.
“Udomaggia” he began, curtly.
“Oshinuzzi.” he answered.
“Yeah, the Godfather wants to see you pronto.”
“I’m at dinner with my family and…”
“Pronto.” And he hung up.
It was a trembling Udomaggia that knocked Don Pembruzzio’s door less than 30 minutes later.
“Capo Udomaggia, iz zis yooah work product? Did you supervise every step of it?”
“So how did zese items remain in it unchanged?”
“Really!” said Oshinuzzi, his shock visible. “How did these things escape the gaze of a legal eagle?”
“I…I…changed…it…it… was changed, godfather. Please, Godfather. I did not fail you.”
Don Pembruzzio looked intently at Udomaggia for what seemed to the latter like an eternity.
Udomaggia shot Oshinuzzi a pleading glance. Finally, Don Pembruzzio broke the silence, holding out his ring for Udomaggia to kiss.
“I believe you. I know for a fact that you were sabotaged. And I know who did it. And I am about to deal with him.”
Don Pembruzzio beckoned to Oshinuzzi. “Get me Don Budgettini, right now.”