When Michael got out of the cab in front of the French Hospital he was

Surprised to see that the street was completely deserted. When he entered the

Hospital he was even more surprised to find the lobby empty. Damn it, what the

hell were Clemenza and Tessio doing? Sure, they never went to West Point but

They knew enough about tactics to have outposts. A couple of their men should

Have been in the lobby at least.

Even the latest visitors had departed, it was almost ten-thirty at night. Michael

was tense and alert now. He didn't bother to stop at the information desk, he

already knew his father's room number up on the fourth floor. He took the self-

service elevator. Oddly enough nobody stopped him until he reached the nurses'

Station on the fourth floor. But he strode right past her query and on to his

father's room. There was no one outside the door. Where the hell were the two

Detectives who were supposed to be waiting around to guard and question the

old man? Where the hell were Tessio and Clemenza's people? Could there be

someone inside the room? But the door was open. Michael went in. There was a

Figure in the bed and by the December moonlight straining through the window

Michael could see his father's face. Even now it was impassive, the chest heaved

Shallowly with his uneven breath. Tubes hung from steel gallows beside the bed