Later that night, Tom Hagen sat alone in Don Corleone's dark office, drinking. He couldn't believe that Sonny was dead. He heard the door behind him open and close. Turning round, he saw Don Corleone.
He looked very old and tired as he walked stiffly across the room. He had lost weight, and his clothes hung loosely from his body.
'Give me some wine,' he said as he lowered himself slowly into his favourite leather armchair. He waited while Tom poured him a drink, then half spoke, half whispered: 'My wife was crying before she fell asleep. Outside my window, I saw Tessio and Clemenza coming to the house and it's midnight. So, Tom, I think you should tell your Don what everybody already knows.'
'I was about to come up and tell you, 'Tom said. 'But you needed a drink first.' 'Yes, 'Tom looked down, ashamed. 'You've had your drink. You can tell me now.'
Tom looked up, his eyes filled with tears. 'They shot Sonny,' he said, his voice shaking. 'He's dead.' Don Corleone closed his eyes. For a second he, too, seemed about to cry. But when he opened his eyes again, they were dry. 'I want no revenge,' he said sadly. 'I want you to arrange a meeting with the heads of the five families. This war stops now.'