(10 of 10)
In New York, Puzo may walk the streets unrecognized. But in Las Vegas he is a celebrity—"Mr. P." to the dealers at the baccarat tables and Mario to the casino managers and habitual high rollers. He takes fame in his slow, fluid stride, even when confronted by admirers like the young hulk in a white suit who a few weeks ago grabbed Puzo's hand and babbled, "I shoulda been Sonny. All my friends told me so. I'm tough, I'm big, I'm comical, I'm smart and I'm an action guy."
These days Puzo's idea of action is to hole up in one of the Tropicana's gilded suites, kick off his shoes, open his shirt and play pinochle with his cronies. As much as $10,000 may ebb and flow around the table, but the atmosphere is casual, full of kibitzing and smoke from 8-in. Monte Cruzes.
It is a scene sometimes repeated for lower stakes in New York with his closest and oldest friends, Novelists Mandel and Heller, Diamond Merchant Julie Green and a retired clothing executive named Speed Vogel. The group has been meeting and eating together for more than 15 years, most recently at Heller's Manhattan apartment where Puzo pays part of the rent and which he uses when he stays in town.
When he arrives, Mario likes to strip down to his underwear and light up a cigar. He is a reluctant housekeeper. Says Heller: "For a while, I tried to get him to make his bed, but there was no use. He says he never made his bed in the Army and he can't start now. He leaves crushed-out cigars all over the place and ashes where they happen to drop. Now, we are not the odd couple, it is just that I don't like his mess."
What his fellow novelist does like is Puzo's "deceptive incongruity between his personality and his highly discriminating intelligence." It shows clearly in his early novels and the book reviews he wrote during the '60s. It flickers promisingly around the edges of The Godfather and Fools Die and could well flare in his future project, a novel that connects the Sicilian and American Mafias. If Mario Puzo never writes another word he will already have earned the title of Godfather of the Paperbacks. Like his friend Joe Heller's Catch-22, Puzo's The Godfather and "an offer you can't refuse" have already become part of the language. This may find him a niche in American letters. He is already assured a place in American numbers.