Friends of ours: Frank Calabrese Sr., James Marcello, Nick Calabrese, Frank Calabrese Jr.
Friends of mine: Robert Cooley
Frank Calabrese Sr. has been accused of killing 13 people in mob hits, but his attorney swears he's not a danger to society. So attorney Joseph Lopez is asking a federal judge to release Calabrese Sr., 69, from the Metropolitan Correctional Center while he awaits trial as one of the top mobsters charged in the most important recent criminal case filed against the Chicago mob, called Family Secrets.
Calabrese Sr. was in prison for running a loan-sharking operation when he was indicted last year in the Family Secrets case. With his sentence up in the old case, Calabrese Sr. wants out. He has been ordered detained on the current case.
In a filing submitted Thursday, Lopez points out that the murders charged in the current case are more than 20 years old. He argues that "there's no indication he will commit any crimes in the future." And Lopez says Calabrese Sr. has been an exemplary inmate while inside, including completing a GED program and parenting classes, receiving a diploma for attending Alcoholics Anonymous and getting an award from the warden of the federal prison in Milan, Mich., as well the town's chief of police and its mayor for taking part in a program that warns youths of the perils of a criminal life.
The filing by Lopez also points out that there are several other mob cases across the nation where alleged top mobsters were let out on bond. And he contends that another government witness used by federal prosecutors in the past, Robert Cooley, has pinned one of the murders charged against Calabrese Sr. on four other men, not Calabrese Sr.
Calabrese Sr.'s chances to get out appear slim. When a fellow defendant, alleged Chicago mob leader James Marcello, charged with three murders in the case asked for bond, the judge denied the request. And the evidence appears extensive against Calabrese Sr. His brother, Nick, is cooperating with the federal government and has admitted to committing multiple mob killings. Calabrese Sr.'s son, Frank Calabrese Jr., is also cooperating with the feds and put his life on the line by secretly recording his father in prison allegedly talking about participating in various mob hits.
The U.S. attorney's office declined to comment, but prosecutors are expected to oppose releasing Calabrese Sr. at a detention hearing.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Friday, June 02, 2006
Best gift for ‘Sopranos’ fans? End season with a bang
Friends of mine: Soprano Crime Family
Now that everyone has had their midlife crisis, maybe we can get back to some bloodshed on "The Sopranos."
As HBO's top drama ends its sixth season, it seems obvious the show's writers fell into a funk. HBO is not releasing screeners of the finale, but the hour will have to be one heckuva caper to redeem the last three months. OK, there was that belated whacking last episode, a fitting cap to the "Brokeback Mafia" saga that should have ended at least six episodes earlier, for Goomba's sake.
Everyone suffered from existential crises. Tony (James Gandolfini) struggled to regain face after being shot by his uncle; Vito (Joseph Gannascoli) was yanked out of the closet by his leather chaps; Artie (John Ventimiglia) festered as his restaurant floundered; Paulie (Tony Sirico) learned his aunt, the sister, was his mother; and Carmela (Edie Falco) had an epiphany in Paris yet was back to folding laundry in New Jersey. As Tony complained to Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco), every day is a gift, but does every gift have to be socks?
It was hard to escape the sense that the writers were marking time until the show's final season (eight episodes in 2007). Two episodes with Tony in a coma - in a 12-episode season?
Only a show like "The Sopranos" could make a gay mobster seem so perverse yet get away with two hetero hoods, Tony and Christopher (Michael Imperioli), declaring their love for each other as they bonded over the memory of Tony’s decision to whack Christopher’s fiancee, Adriana. But let's hold off on the lime; there's still life in this body.
David Chase began this series as a triangle between a middle-aged mobster, his therapist and his psycho mama, Livia (Nancy Marchand). Marchand's death in 2000 prompted major revisions, but fans may yet get a payoff that resonates with the show's themes of family and betrayal - one starting to seem obvious yet deviously brilliant.
The key to the end may lie in Tony's increasingly tense relationship with son A.J. (Robert Iler). As the show's writers have underlined this season, A.J. is Livia: The Next Generation, self-absorbed, hateful and incapable of feeling compassion for anyone. As Tony told Melfi in the last episode, he hates his son. On some level, Tony recognizes the family resemblance.
Who to bring Tony down but family? Family has gotten him almost killed more than once.
One can imagine A.J. committing some petty crime and being collared by the feds. As instincts kick in, A.J. saves himself by giving the government all the evidence they need to put away his father.
It would be the ultimate coda to this novel-like series about one mobster's efforts to keep himself and his families - criminal and biological - afloat on an ever-shifting tide of blood.
How perfect would it be for A.J. to do what no Soprano ever has - finally sing?
Thanks to Mark A. Perigard
Now that everyone has had their midlife crisis, maybe we can get back to some bloodshed on "The Sopranos."
As HBO's top drama ends its sixth season, it seems obvious the show's writers fell into a funk. HBO is not releasing screeners of the finale, but the hour will have to be one heckuva caper to redeem the last three months. OK, there was that belated whacking last episode, a fitting cap to the "Brokeback Mafia" saga that should have ended at least six episodes earlier, for Goomba's sake.
Everyone suffered from existential crises. Tony (James Gandolfini) struggled to regain face after being shot by his uncle; Vito (Joseph Gannascoli) was yanked out of the closet by his leather chaps; Artie (John Ventimiglia) festered as his restaurant floundered; Paulie (Tony Sirico) learned his aunt, the sister, was his mother; and Carmela (Edie Falco) had an epiphany in Paris yet was back to folding laundry in New Jersey. As Tony complained to Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco), every day is a gift, but does every gift have to be socks?
It was hard to escape the sense that the writers were marking time until the show's final season (eight episodes in 2007). Two episodes with Tony in a coma - in a 12-episode season?
Only a show like "The Sopranos" could make a gay mobster seem so perverse yet get away with two hetero hoods, Tony and Christopher (Michael Imperioli), declaring their love for each other as they bonded over the memory of Tony’s decision to whack Christopher’s fiancee, Adriana. But let's hold off on the lime; there's still life in this body.
David Chase began this series as a triangle between a middle-aged mobster, his therapist and his psycho mama, Livia (Nancy Marchand). Marchand's death in 2000 prompted major revisions, but fans may yet get a payoff that resonates with the show's themes of family and betrayal - one starting to seem obvious yet deviously brilliant.
The key to the end may lie in Tony's increasingly tense relationship with son A.J. (Robert Iler). As the show's writers have underlined this season, A.J. is Livia: The Next Generation, self-absorbed, hateful and incapable of feeling compassion for anyone. As Tony told Melfi in the last episode, he hates his son. On some level, Tony recognizes the family resemblance.
Who to bring Tony down but family? Family has gotten him almost killed more than once.
One can imagine A.J. committing some petty crime and being collared by the feds. As instincts kick in, A.J. saves himself by giving the government all the evidence they need to put away his father.
It would be the ultimate coda to this novel-like series about one mobster's efforts to keep himself and his families - criminal and biological - afloat on an ever-shifting tide of blood.
How perfect would it be for A.J. to do what no Soprano ever has - finally sing?
Thanks to Mark A. Perigard
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Capo "Convicts Himself"
Friends of ours: Gregory DePalma, Gambino Crime Family
A prosecutor told a jury in closing arguments yesterday that an ailing Gambino captain has all but convicted himself of racketeering by bragging about the family and its crimes as he cozied up to an undercover FBI agent. Gregory DePalma, 74, breathing through a tube connected to an oxygen tank and holding a blanket in front of him, sat with his eyes closed as Assistant U.S. Attorney Christopher Conniff berated him as a "violent and cunning criminal."
"In the end, it was Gregory DePalma's love of Mafia life that did him in. He could not stop talking about it. He has literally convicted himself in this case," Conniff said in Manhattan federal court.
The government has cited one audiotape in which the defendant bragged he should win an Academy Award for winning leniency with his frail appearance. The prosecutor said DePalma welcomed undercover FBI agent Joaquin Garcia into the Gambino family because he thought Garcia could provide stolen jewelry.
A prosecutor told a jury in closing arguments yesterday that an ailing Gambino captain has all but convicted himself of racketeering by bragging about the family and its crimes as he cozied up to an undercover FBI agent. Gregory DePalma, 74, breathing through a tube connected to an oxygen tank and holding a blanket in front of him, sat with his eyes closed as Assistant U.S. Attorney Christopher Conniff berated him as a "violent and cunning criminal."
"In the end, it was Gregory DePalma's love of Mafia life that did him in. He could not stop talking about it. He has literally convicted himself in this case," Conniff said in Manhattan federal court.
The government has cited one audiotape in which the defendant bragged he should win an Academy Award for winning leniency with his frail appearance. The prosecutor said DePalma welcomed undercover FBI agent Joaquin Garcia into the Gambino family because he thought Garcia could provide stolen jewelry.
Jimmy Hoffa
Jimmy Hoffa, one of the most controversial labor leaders of his time, helped make the Teamsters the largest labor union in the U.S., and was also known for his ties to organized crime. His son, James P. Hoffa, has been a general president of the Teamsters since 1999.
• 1913: Born February 14 in Brazil, Indiana
• 1928: Leaves school to work as a stock boy
• 1940: Becomes chairman of the Central States Drivers Council
• 1942: Elected president of the Michigan Conference of Teamsters
• 1952: Becomes international vice president of the Teamsters
• 1957-1971: Elected international president of the Teamsters
• 1967: Starts 13-year sentence for jury tampering, fraud and conspiracy
• 1971: President Richard Nixon commutes Hoffa's sentence
• 1975: Disappears on July 30 from a restaurant in suburban Detroit, Michigan
• 1982: Legally declared "presumed dead"
Source: Encyclopedia Brittanica
• 1913: Born February 14 in Brazil, Indiana
• 1928: Leaves school to work as a stock boy
• 1940: Becomes chairman of the Central States Drivers Council
• 1942: Elected president of the Michigan Conference of Teamsters
• 1952: Becomes international vice president of the Teamsters
• 1957-1971: Elected international president of the Teamsters
• 1967: Starts 13-year sentence for jury tampering, fraud and conspiracy
• 1971: President Richard Nixon commutes Hoffa's sentence
• 1975: Disappears on July 30 from a restaurant in suburban Detroit, Michigan
• 1982: Legally declared "presumed dead"
Source: Encyclopedia Brittanica
FBI Calls off Dig for Hoffa
Friends of mine: Jimmy Hoffa
The FBI said Tuesday it found no trace of Jimmy Hoffa after digging up a suburban Detroit horse farm in one of the most intensive searches in decades for the former Teamsters boss. The two-week search involved dozens of FBI agents, along with anthropologists, archaeologists, cadaver-sniffing dogs and a demolition crew that took apart a barn.
Louis Fischetti, supervisory agent with the Detroit FBI, said he believed the tip that led agents to the farm was the best federal authorities had received since 1976. The agency planned to continue the investigation into Hoffa's 1975 disappearance. "There are still prosecutable defendants who are living, and they know who they are," said Judy Chilen, assistant agent in charge of the Detroit FBI. The farm was once owned by a Hoffa associate and was said to be a mob meeting place before the union boss' disappearance.
Hoffa vanished after he went to meet two organized crime figures. Investigators have long suspected he was killed by the mob to prevent him from reclaiming the presidency of the Teamsters after he got out of prison for corruption. But no trace of him has ever been found, and no one was ever charged.
The farm was just the latest spot to be dug up in search of clues to Hoffa's fate. In 2003, authorities excavated beneath a backyard pool a few hours north of Detroit. The following year, police ripped up floorboards in a Detroit home to test bloodstains. But the blood was not Hoffa's.
Over the years, some have theorized that Hoffa was buried at Giants Stadium in the New Jersey Meadowlands; ground up and thrown into a Florida swamp; or obliterated in a mob-owned fat-rendering plant.
The FBI began the excavation on May 17, digging at Hidden Dreams Farm, 30 miles northwest of Detroit. The search started after a tip from Donovan Wells, an ailing federal inmate who once lived on the farm and was acquainted with its former owner, 92-year-old Hoffa associate Rolland McMaster, according to a government investigator.
McMaster's attorney Mayer Morganroth said he was not surprised that the search was wrapping up with the mystery unsolved. "We never expected that anything was there," he said, adding that the FBI probably felt pressured to respond to the tip, lest it seem as if it were not trying to solve the case. The FBI said the search was expected to cost less than $250,000. The government plans to pay for the barn to be rebuilt.
While many veteran investigators and Hoffa experts were skeptical about the search, the little community of Milford Township seemed to relish the attention. A bakery sold cupcakes with a plastic green hand emerging from chocolate frosting meant to resemble dirt. Other businesses sold Hoffa-inspired T-shirts and put up signs with wisecracks such as "Caution FBI Crossing Ahead."
Hoffa was last seen on July 30, 1975. He was scheduled to have dinner at a restaurant about 20 miles from the farm. He was supposed to meet with a New Jersey Teamsters boss and a Detroit Mafia captain, both of whom are now dead.
The FBI said Tuesday it found no trace of Jimmy Hoffa after digging up a suburban Detroit horse farm in one of the most intensive searches in decades for the former Teamsters boss. The two-week search involved dozens of FBI agents, along with anthropologists, archaeologists, cadaver-sniffing dogs and a demolition crew that took apart a barn.
Louis Fischetti, supervisory agent with the Detroit FBI, said he believed the tip that led agents to the farm was the best federal authorities had received since 1976. The agency planned to continue the investigation into Hoffa's 1975 disappearance. "There are still prosecutable defendants who are living, and they know who they are," said Judy Chilen, assistant agent in charge of the Detroit FBI. The farm was once owned by a Hoffa associate and was said to be a mob meeting place before the union boss' disappearance.
Hoffa vanished after he went to meet two organized crime figures. Investigators have long suspected he was killed by the mob to prevent him from reclaiming the presidency of the Teamsters after he got out of prison for corruption. But no trace of him has ever been found, and no one was ever charged.
The farm was just the latest spot to be dug up in search of clues to Hoffa's fate. In 2003, authorities excavated beneath a backyard pool a few hours north of Detroit. The following year, police ripped up floorboards in a Detroit home to test bloodstains. But the blood was not Hoffa's.
Over the years, some have theorized that Hoffa was buried at Giants Stadium in the New Jersey Meadowlands; ground up and thrown into a Florida swamp; or obliterated in a mob-owned fat-rendering plant.
The FBI began the excavation on May 17, digging at Hidden Dreams Farm, 30 miles northwest of Detroit. The search started after a tip from Donovan Wells, an ailing federal inmate who once lived on the farm and was acquainted with its former owner, 92-year-old Hoffa associate Rolland McMaster, according to a government investigator.
McMaster's attorney Mayer Morganroth said he was not surprised that the search was wrapping up with the mystery unsolved. "We never expected that anything was there," he said, adding that the FBI probably felt pressured to respond to the tip, lest it seem as if it were not trying to solve the case. The FBI said the search was expected to cost less than $250,000. The government plans to pay for the barn to be rebuilt.
While many veteran investigators and Hoffa experts were skeptical about the search, the little community of Milford Township seemed to relish the attention. A bakery sold cupcakes with a plastic green hand emerging from chocolate frosting meant to resemble dirt. Other businesses sold Hoffa-inspired T-shirts and put up signs with wisecracks such as "Caution FBI Crossing Ahead."
Hoffa was last seen on July 30, 1975. He was scheduled to have dinner at a restaurant about 20 miles from the farm. He was supposed to meet with a New Jersey Teamsters boss and a Detroit Mafia captain, both of whom are now dead.
Congressman Questions Cost of Hoffa Search
Friends of mine: Jimmy Hoffa
A Michigan congressman is questioning the cost of the FBI's search for the remains of former Teamsters boss Jimmy Hoffa. "The FBI might be better off establishing a budget and some kind of timeline, because what new information do they have now, 31 years later?" said Rep. Joe Knollenberg, whose district is near the search site. Monday marked the 13th consecutive day that agents have worked at Hidden Dreams Farm in Milford Township, 30 miles northwest of Detroit.
The Republican told The Associated Press he has not asked the FBI for an explanation but may do so this week. "It seems to be a no-holds-barred move on the part of the FBI to do all this sifting and digging and searching," Knollenberg said. "It's purely a question of cost at this moment. ... It's the taxpayer that has the voice here, too."
Messages left for FBI spokeswoman Dawn Clenney were not immediately returned Monday.
The FBI has declined to release an estimate of how much the search will cost but has said it will last a couple of weeks and involve more than 40 FBI personnel, as well as demolition experts, archaeologists and anthropologists. "The expenditure of funds has always been necessary in each and every case the FBI works, and this one is no exception," the FBI said in a statement last week.
"We will not abandon our responsibility to effectively investigate a pending organized crime case simply because it might be termed 'too old.' " The FBI has said it received a credible tip that Hoffa's body is buried at the farm, once owned by a Hoffa associate.
Hoffa was last seen when he was scheduled to have dinner at a restaurant about 20 miles from the farm. He was supposed to meet with a New Jersey Teamsters boss and a Detroit Mafia captain, who are now both dead.
A Michigan congressman is questioning the cost of the FBI's search for the remains of former Teamsters boss Jimmy Hoffa. "The FBI might be better off establishing a budget and some kind of timeline, because what new information do they have now, 31 years later?" said Rep. Joe Knollenberg, whose district is near the search site. Monday marked the 13th consecutive day that agents have worked at Hidden Dreams Farm in Milford Township, 30 miles northwest of Detroit.
The Republican told The Associated Press he has not asked the FBI for an explanation but may do so this week. "It seems to be a no-holds-barred move on the part of the FBI to do all this sifting and digging and searching," Knollenberg said. "It's purely a question of cost at this moment. ... It's the taxpayer that has the voice here, too."
Messages left for FBI spokeswoman Dawn Clenney were not immediately returned Monday.
The FBI has declined to release an estimate of how much the search will cost but has said it will last a couple of weeks and involve more than 40 FBI personnel, as well as demolition experts, archaeologists and anthropologists. "The expenditure of funds has always been necessary in each and every case the FBI works, and this one is no exception," the FBI said in a statement last week.
"We will not abandon our responsibility to effectively investigate a pending organized crime case simply because it might be termed 'too old.' " The FBI has said it received a credible tip that Hoffa's body is buried at the farm, once owned by a Hoffa associate.
Hoffa was last seen when he was scheduled to have dinner at a restaurant about 20 miles from the farm. He was supposed to meet with a New Jersey Teamsters boss and a Detroit Mafia captain, who are now both dead.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Donald Trump Connected to Chicago Mob?
Friends of mine: Phillip Wasserman
Donald Trump's Mar-a-Lago private club may be fined $15,000 by the Town of Palm Beach for three code violations — including a $5,000 hit for advertising and holding free-lunch seminars pushing a financial services company for older retirees.
Free lunches? Retiree seminars? Advertising? Holy Marjorie Merriweather Post!
Trump was in the Caribbean Thursday and couldn't be reached. But the Mar-a-Lago member whose company organized the lunches, Phillip Roy Financial Services boss Phillip Wasserman, said he was at the receiving end of a good "talking to" by The Donald.
Palm Beach forbids events at Mar-a-Lago to be advertised as "open to the public," which Wasserman did on the company's Web site. "Mr. Trump was stern with us," said Wasserman, who has offices in Boca and North Palm Beach.
The company boasts hundreds of free-lunch financial planning seminars in places like Carrabba's and Outback Steakhouse. The general concept of the popular seminars is being investigated by state regulators because it can hide high-pressure pitches.
"Mr. Trump didn't mention anything about a fine, but we'll be happy to reimburse him when he pays," Wasserman said.
Wasserman's background, meanwhile, may cause some members to question the "exclusive" label Trump tagged on the historic property's club, which charges a $175,000 membership fee. A lawyer by trade, the Sarasota-based Wasserman, 49, resigned from the Florida Bar nine years ago while facing disciplinary action. The Florida Supreme Court found him guilty of charging excessive fees, failure to act with diligence, improper trust-account maintenance and even paying a disciplinary fine with a bad check.
"I hope this isn't going to cause Mr. Trump to cancel my membership," Wasserman said, "although I've seen (boxing promoter) Don King at the club and he is a convicted killer."
Wasserman also acknowledged that several members of his family were tied to the Chicago mob.
The town, meanwhile, wants Trump to pay another $5,000 for having 820 fans at the Elton John concert in March, exceeding the occupancy permit by 120; and $5,000 for removal of 8-foot hedges.
"The fines will be addressed before the Town Council in June," said Town Building Department Director Veronica Close.
Thanks to Jose Lambiet
Donald Trump's Mar-a-Lago private club may be fined $15,000 by the Town of Palm Beach for three code violations — including a $5,000 hit for advertising and holding free-lunch seminars pushing a financial services company for older retirees.
Free lunches? Retiree seminars? Advertising? Holy Marjorie Merriweather Post!
Trump was in the Caribbean Thursday and couldn't be reached. But the Mar-a-Lago member whose company organized the lunches, Phillip Roy Financial Services boss Phillip Wasserman, said he was at the receiving end of a good "talking to" by The Donald.
Palm Beach forbids events at Mar-a-Lago to be advertised as "open to the public," which Wasserman did on the company's Web site. "Mr. Trump was stern with us," said Wasserman, who has offices in Boca and North Palm Beach.
The company boasts hundreds of free-lunch financial planning seminars in places like Carrabba's and Outback Steakhouse. The general concept of the popular seminars is being investigated by state regulators because it can hide high-pressure pitches.
"Mr. Trump didn't mention anything about a fine, but we'll be happy to reimburse him when he pays," Wasserman said.
Wasserman's background, meanwhile, may cause some members to question the "exclusive" label Trump tagged on the historic property's club, which charges a $175,000 membership fee. A lawyer by trade, the Sarasota-based Wasserman, 49, resigned from the Florida Bar nine years ago while facing disciplinary action. The Florida Supreme Court found him guilty of charging excessive fees, failure to act with diligence, improper trust-account maintenance and even paying a disciplinary fine with a bad check.
"I hope this isn't going to cause Mr. Trump to cancel my membership," Wasserman said, "although I've seen (boxing promoter) Don King at the club and he is a convicted killer."
Wasserman also acknowledged that several members of his family were tied to the Chicago mob.
The town, meanwhile, wants Trump to pay another $5,000 for having 820 fans at the Elton John concert in March, exceeding the occupancy permit by 120; and $5,000 for removal of 8-foot hedges.
"The fines will be addressed before the Town Council in June," said Town Building Department Director Veronica Close.
Thanks to Jose Lambiet
Reputed Capo recalls " A Few Nice Smashes" on Tape
Friends of ours: Gambino Crime Family, Gregory DePalma
Friends of mine: Joseph "Joey Per Voi" Fornino
The final piece of evidence at reputed Gambino capo Gregory DePalma's racketeering trial depicted the Scarsdale man as a violent, robust Mafia enforcer rather than the ailing old man who drowsed at the defense table for the last two weeks.
Keenly aware of the image jurors might have of DePalma from watching him during the trial, federal prosecutors Christopher Conniff and Scott Marrah finished their case with a flourish; they used DePalma's own words to imprint their assertion that the 74-year-old was an active member of a ruthless organized crime family up until his arrest in March of last year.
Defense lawyers claim that DePalma is a sick old man living in the past, who routinely exaggerates his criminal deeds and power to puff up his own importance. An ashen-faced DePalma is brought into court every day in a wheelchair, oxygen tubes running from a green canister to his nose. He suffers from heart disease, kidney disease, and diabetes.But in a secretly taped conversation with a mob informant just two weeks before he was arrested, DePalma recounts a beating he administered to a man who owed money to a reputed associate of DePalma's.
"Oh, I gave him a few nice smashes," DePalma said of the attack on John Nigro at Pasta Per Voi, a Port Chester restaurant owned by Joseph "Joey Per Voi" Fornino, an accused associate of DePalma's who has also been charged in the case. DePalma claimed Nigro owed Fornino money.
In the conversation with the informant, Peter Forchetti, DePalma said he finally caught up with Nigro at the restaurant. In an obscenity-laced rant, DePalma says he called Nigro a rat, accusing Nigro of giving information to authorities about DePalma's son, Craig.
The elder DePalma pleaded guilty in 1999 to extorting Nigro. Craig DePalma also was convicted in the case. The younger DePalma is currently in a coma in a New Rochelle nursing home following a failed jail-house suicide attempt.
Gregory DePalma laments to Forchetti that there was one thing he didn't do when he beat up Nigro. "I made a mistake," he said. "I didn't rip his hairpiece off."
He accused Nigro of ripping off a Yonkers toupee maker by not paying him the $5,500 he owed for the rug.
Of course, DePalma had his own toupee trauma just before the trial began when deputy U.S Marshals found two $50 bills taped under DePalma's hairpiece in his Westchester Medical Center hospital room.
The finding assisted Judge Alvin Hellerstein in his decision not to postpone the trial, despite assertions by DePalma's lawyers, Martin Geduldig and John Meringolo, that he was too ill to stand trial.
Closing arguments in the case are scheduled for Tuesday.
Thanks to Timothy O'Connor
Friends of mine: Joseph "Joey Per Voi" Fornino
The final piece of evidence at reputed Gambino capo Gregory DePalma's racketeering trial depicted the Scarsdale man as a violent, robust Mafia enforcer rather than the ailing old man who drowsed at the defense table for the last two weeks.
Keenly aware of the image jurors might have of DePalma from watching him during the trial, federal prosecutors Christopher Conniff and Scott Marrah finished their case with a flourish; they used DePalma's own words to imprint their assertion that the 74-year-old was an active member of a ruthless organized crime family up until his arrest in March of last year.
Defense lawyers claim that DePalma is a sick old man living in the past, who routinely exaggerates his criminal deeds and power to puff up his own importance. An ashen-faced DePalma is brought into court every day in a wheelchair, oxygen tubes running from a green canister to his nose. He suffers from heart disease, kidney disease, and diabetes.But in a secretly taped conversation with a mob informant just two weeks before he was arrested, DePalma recounts a beating he administered to a man who owed money to a reputed associate of DePalma's.
"Oh, I gave him a few nice smashes," DePalma said of the attack on John Nigro at Pasta Per Voi, a Port Chester restaurant owned by Joseph "Joey Per Voi" Fornino, an accused associate of DePalma's who has also been charged in the case. DePalma claimed Nigro owed Fornino money.
In the conversation with the informant, Peter Forchetti, DePalma said he finally caught up with Nigro at the restaurant. In an obscenity-laced rant, DePalma says he called Nigro a rat, accusing Nigro of giving information to authorities about DePalma's son, Craig.
The elder DePalma pleaded guilty in 1999 to extorting Nigro. Craig DePalma also was convicted in the case. The younger DePalma is currently in a coma in a New Rochelle nursing home following a failed jail-house suicide attempt.
Gregory DePalma laments to Forchetti that there was one thing he didn't do when he beat up Nigro. "I made a mistake," he said. "I didn't rip his hairpiece off."
He accused Nigro of ripping off a Yonkers toupee maker by not paying him the $5,500 he owed for the rug.
Of course, DePalma had his own toupee trauma just before the trial began when deputy U.S Marshals found two $50 bills taped under DePalma's hairpiece in his Westchester Medical Center hospital room.
The finding assisted Judge Alvin Hellerstein in his decision not to postpone the trial, despite assertions by DePalma's lawyers, Martin Geduldig and John Meringolo, that he was too ill to stand trial.
Closing arguments in the case are scheduled for Tuesday.
Thanks to Timothy O'Connor
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