JК
The Sicilian :: Puzo Mario
Страница: 205 из 278And so on that bright morning, the smoky Sicilian sun making themsweat, the six Mafia chiefs rode their horses up and down along the wall surrounding Prince Ollorto's estate. The assembled peasants, under olive trees older than Christ, watched these six men, famous all over Sicily for their ferocity. They waited as if hoping for some miracle, too fearful to move forward.
But that miracle would not be the forces of law. Minister Trezza had sent direct orders to the Maresciallo commanding them that carabinieri were to be confined to their barracks. On that day, there was not a uniformed member of the National Police to be seen in the whole province of Palermo.
The multitude outside the wall of Prince Ollorto's estate waited. The six Mafia chiefs rode their horses up and down as consistent as metronomes, their faces impassive, their guns sheathed in rifle holsters, lupare on shoulder straps, pistols tucked in their belts hidden by jackets. They made no menacing signs toward the crowd – indeed they ignored them; they simply rode in silence back and forth. The peasants, as if hoping the horses would tire or carry these guardian dragons away, opened their food sacks and uncorked their wine bottles. They were mostly men, only a few women, and among these was the girl Justina with her mother and father. They had come to show their defiance for the murderers of Silvio Ferra. And yet none of them dared pass the line of slowly moving horses, dared to claim the land that was theirs by right of law.
It was not only fear that restrained them; these riders were "men of respect" who were in fact the lawgivers of the towns they lived in. The Friends of the Friends had established their own shadowy government that functioned more effectively than the government in Rome. Was there a thief or cattle rustler stealing a peasant's cattle and sheep? If the victim reported the crime to the carabinieri, he would never recover his goods. But if he went to see these Mafia chiefs and paid a twenty percent fee, the lost stock would be found and he would receive a guarantee that it would not happen again. If a hot-tempered bully murdered some innocent workman over a glass of wine, the government could rarely convict because of perjured testimony and the law of omerta. But if the victim's family went to one of these six men of respect, then vengeance and justice could be had.
Chronic petty thieves in poor neighborhoods would be executed, feuds settled with honor, a quarrel over land boundaries resolved without the expense of lawyers. These six men were judges whose opinions could not be appealed or ignored, whose punishments were severe and could not be evaded except by emigration.
But that miracle would not be the forces of law. Minister Trezza had sent direct orders to the Maresciallo commanding them that carabinieri were to be confined to their barracks. On that day, there was not a uniformed member of the National Police to be seen in the whole province of Palermo.
The multitude outside the wall of Prince Ollorto's estate waited. The six Mafia chiefs rode their horses up and down as consistent as metronomes, their faces impassive, their guns sheathed in rifle holsters, lupare on shoulder straps, pistols tucked in their belts hidden by jackets. They made no menacing signs toward the crowd – indeed they ignored them; they simply rode in silence back and forth. The peasants, as if hoping the horses would tire or carry these guardian dragons away, opened their food sacks and uncorked their wine bottles. They were mostly men, only a few women, and among these was the girl Justina with her mother and father. They had come to show their defiance for the murderers of Silvio Ferra. And yet none of them dared pass the line of slowly moving horses, dared to claim the land that was theirs by right of law.
It was not only fear that restrained them; these riders were "men of respect" who were in fact the lawgivers of the towns they lived in. The Friends of the Friends had established their own shadowy government that functioned more effectively than the government in Rome. Was there a thief or cattle rustler stealing a peasant's cattle and sheep? If the victim reported the crime to the carabinieri, he would never recover his goods. But if he went to see these Mafia chiefs and paid a twenty percent fee, the lost stock would be found and he would receive a guarantee that it would not happen again. If a hot-tempered bully murdered some innocent workman over a glass of wine, the government could rarely convict because of perjured testimony and the law of omerta. But if the victim's family went to one of these six men of respect, then vengeance and justice could be had.
Chronic petty thieves in poor neighborhoods would be executed, feuds settled with honor, a quarrel over land boundaries resolved without the expense of lawyers. These six men were judges whose opinions could not be appealed or ignored, whose punishments were severe and could not be evaded except by emigration.