FBI file on Rockford Mobster Joseph J. Maggio shows likely motive for his 1980 killing and Mob efforts to gain access to FBI files - By Jeff Havens
Friends of ours: Joseph J. Maggio, Joseph Zammuto, Pietro Alfano, Gaetano Badalamenti, Frank J. Buscemi, Jasper Calo, Joseph Zito, Frank G. Saladino, Charles Vince, Phillip J. Emordeno, Benjamin "Lefty Guns" Ruggiero, Michael Sa Bella, Tony Riela, J. Peter Balisrieri, Bonanno Crime Family, Carmine "Lilo" Galante, Gambino Crime Family, Carlos Gambino, Pasquale Conte Sr., Tommaso Buscetta, Frank Zito, Vito Genovese, Genovese Crime Family, Paul Castellano, Joe Bonanno, John Gotti
Friends of mine: John S. Leombruni, "Donnie Brasco"
He was found dead in the back seat of his car along Safford Road by two Winnebago County Sheriff's deputies on April, 6, 1980. The victim, Rockford Mob member Joseph J. Maggio, was shot once in the side of the head at close range with 6.35mm bullet, which was made in Austria.
His killer has never been charged, and the shooting remains an open and unsolved case. However, according to Maggio's extensive FBI file, a "prime suspect" was identified by unknown sources, and the motive for his killing was "a result of his objection to LCN [La Cosa Nostra or Mafia] entry into the narcotics business in Rockford." And according to an October 1984 FBI document, an unknown informant "was instructed by his 'associates' in either Las Vegas or Los Angeles that Maggio had to be killed. [Redacted] 'associates' are members of the LCN."
Maggio's murder and FBI file provides another piece to the puzzle that may one day directly link Rockford to the Mafia-run heroin and cocaine smuggling conspiracy of the 1970s and 1980s, which was known as the "Pizza Connection."
Of the nearly 1,500 pages The Rock River Times requested from Maggio's FBI file, only 90 pages were released by the U.S. Justice Department. Most of the 90 pages released were heavily redacted or censored for content.
However, the information that was released shows the Mob's determination to not only scam ordinary citizens out of money through businesses that appear completely legitimate, but also gain access to FBI files.
ORIGINS
Less than two months before Maggio was killed, he and other Mafia members met "several times" in February 1980 with Rockford Mob boss Joseph Zammuto in Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. — where Zammuto vacationed during the winter each year.
Exactly what was discussed at the meeting is not known. However, Maggio's heavily redacted file indicates an unknown individual or group "began dealing narcotics in Rockford in August 1980, with Zammuto's sanction."
As to who began dealing drugs with Zammuto's approval is not known due to Maggio's redacted FBI file. However, what is known is John S. Leombruni was convicted in 1983 for trafficking cocaine in Rockford and the surrounding area.
According to a March 4, 1984 article in the Rockford Register Star, "There were indications in 1982 that a six-moth investigation by the FBI of cocaine traffic in Rockford had turned up Mob connections. Twelve persons were indicted, including John S. Leombruni, who was described as the city's biggest cocaine dealer. ...Leombruni had lived in Las Vegas the year before his arrest." And according to the Register Star article, an FBI affidavit indicated, Leombruni "was run out of town by 'the Mafia chief in Las Vegas.' Court approved wiretaps showed Mob involvement in the Rockford cocaine case FBI agents said, but were not allowed as evidence in Leombruni’s trial." He was tried in federal court in Rockford.
The sequence of incidents, from published sources, suggests a strong link between the Rockford Mob and other participants in the Pizza Connection, whose second in command for Midwest operations was Oregon, Ill., pizza maker Pietro Alfano.
According to a source for The Rock River Times, Alfano, now 70, "retired" and returned to Sicily shortly after his release from federal prison in 1992. As of 2004, Alfano's son operated the restaurant, which was still in business in Oregon.
Ralph Blumenthal, reporter for The New York Times and author of the 1988 book Last Days of the Sicilians, wrote that Alfano immigrated to the United States between 1963 and 1967 from Cinisi, Sicily, a town about 8 miles west of Palermo near the Mediterranean Sea.
Cinisi was also the hometown of former Sicilian Mob boss Gaetano Badalamenti, who was born in 1923, and died in 2004. Badalamenti became head of the Sicilian Mafia in 1969, but fled for his life to Brazil in November 1978 in the wake of the "Mafia wars" in Sicily.
Alfano and other Mob members born in Sicily, but working in United States, were referred to as "Zips" by their American-born counterparts. According to Selwyn Raab, former New York Times reporter and author of the 2005 book Five Families: The rise, decline and resurgence of America's most powerful Mafia empires, the term "Zip" may be Sicilian slang for "hicks" or "primitives."
DRUGS AND INTELLIGENCE FILES
On April 8, 1984, Alfano and Badalamenti were apprehended by police in Madrid, Spain. Authorities charged that they, along with 29 others overseas and in the United States, participated in a multinational, $1.65 billion heroin/cocaine smuggling and money laundering conspiracy.
The conspiracy stretched from poppy fields in Afghanistan to banks in Switzerland, ships in Bulgaria and Turkey, pay phones in Brazil, and pizza restaurants in New York, Oregon, Ill., and Milton, Wis. The conspiracy would become known as the "Pizza Connection," the successor to the 1950s' and 1960s' "French Connection."
Interim Chief of the Rockford Police Department Dominic Iasparro, head of the Rockford area Metro Narcotics task force, has been with the agency for about 32 years. Iasparro recalled area drug trafficking during the time of the Pizza Connection.
"As I understand it, the drugs weren't coming out here—they were staying in New York," Iasparro said during an April 12, 2004 interview.
In addition to being head of the local narcotics unit, Iasparro was also responsible for destroying police intelligence files concerning Rockford Mob members in the mid-1980s that Iasparro said was part of a nationwide effort to purge such information. Maggio's dossier was among the files requested by The Rock River Times last year, but apparently destroyed during the purge.
IMMIGRATION AND SPONSORSHIP
Under what circumstances Alfano arrived in the United States is not clear. However, what is clear is Alfano and other Zips in the Midwest and on the East Coast were employed in the pizza business. Also apparent is former Rockford Mob boss Frank J. Buscemi was reported by the Register Star to have facilitated the immigration of "several cousins to Rockford from Sicily and set them up in business."
What is not certain is whether Buscemi, a Chicago native, sponsored Alfano's move to Illinois. Buscemi was owner of Stateline Vending Co., Inc., and Rondinella Foods Co., before his death in Rockford on Dec. 7, 1987. Rondinella was a wholesale cheese, food and pizza ingredient distributor.
Stateline Vending began operating from the basement of the Aragona Club on Kent Street before moving to 1128 S. Winnebago St., which was owned by former Mafia Advisor Joseph Zito and Mobster Jasper Calo. The vending business eventually settled at 326 W. Jefferson St., in Rockford, before it was dissolved in 1988, after Buscemi’s death.
Winnebago County court documents from 1988 indicate alleged Rockford Mob hit man Frank G. Saladino worked for Rondinella in the 1980s when Buscemi owned the business. Saladino was found dead April 25, 2005 in Hampshire, Ill., by federal agents that went to arrest him on charges of murder and other illegal Mob-related activities.
According to Buscemi's recently released FBI file, Buscemi was also the target of a federal investigators from 1981 to 1986 in connection with Maggio's murder and "extortionate business practices."
"These allegations involved Buscemi's cheese distribution business, RONDINELLA FOODS, and his vending machine operation, STATE-LINE VENDING." Buscemi's also indicates that the investigation produced "numerous leads of extreme value, including contacts between Frank J. Buscemi and the subject of an ongoing Boston drug task force investigation."
Despite the years of investigations, Buscemi was never charged with any crime before his death in 1987. Also unknown is whether Zammuto's only sister, whose married name is Alfano, was related to Pietro Alfano through marriage.
BUSINESS MEETING
The Mob's historic ties to the vending machine business is significant in establishing an indirect link between the Rockford Mob and the Pizza connection because of a meeting that took place in July 1978 in Milwaukee between Mob members from New York, Milwaukee and Rockford.
In July 1978, federal court documents show Rockford Mafia Advisor Joseph Zito, Mob Underboss Charles Vince, and Phillip J. Emordeno along with other members of the Milwaukee and New York Mafia were alleged to have tried to extort money from a competing upstart vending machine company owner. The owner of the company the Mob members tried to shakedown, was actually an undercover federal agent named Gail T. Cobb who was masquerading as Tony Conte, owner of Best Vending Co.
According to page 229 of Raab's book, legendary FBI agent Donnie Brasco, whose real name was Joseph P Pistone, was "used" by Bonanno Mob soldier Benjamin "Lefty Guns" Ruggiero "on cooperative ventures with other families in New York, Florida and Milwaukee."
Blumnenthal wrote on page 42 of his book that in 1978 Pistone traveled to Milwaukee to vouch for Cobb, and "Pistone helped Cobb cement an alliance between the Bonanno and [Milwaukee Mob boss Frank P.] Balistrieri clans."
Actor Johnny Depp portrayed Pistone in the 1997 movie Donnie Brasco, during the time in the late 1970s when Pistone infiltrated organized crime. ("Lefty Guns" Ruggiero was played by Al Pacino.)
The Register Star described the 1978 meeting in their March 1984 article as being partly arranged by Rockford Mob members. The article concluded the meeting "confirmed long-held intelligence information that...[the Rockford Mob] possessed the influence to deal directly with the Milwaukee and New York organized crime families." The meeting was set to quash a possible violent conflict between Cobb and Mafia members.
Ruggerio's Mob captain, Michael Sa Bella contacted Tony Riela—a New Jersey Mob member with ties to the Rockford Mafia. Riela called Rockford to schedule the meeting, and Ruggiero called Zito several times. Vince also called Balistrieri’s son J. Peter Balisrieri shortly before the meeting.
According to the Register Star article, "on July 29, 1978 Cobb met the three Rockford men and Ruggiero at the Centre Stage Restaurant in Milwaukee. ....Ruggiero told Cobb that the vending machine business in Milwaukee was controlled by the mob," and if Cobb wanted to enter the business he would have to share his profits with the Mafia or be killed. Since the New York and Milwaukee crime families worked together, "Cobb also was told he would have to pay a portion of his profits to the Bonanno family," which was headed at that time by Carmine "Lilo" Galante.
DEATH ON THE PATIO
Blumenthal wrote that the shotgun assignation of Galante in the mid-afternoon on July 12, 1979 while he was dining on the patio of a restaurant in Brooklyn, N.Y., marked a tipping point in the power struggle to control drug trafficking in America. Pizza Connection prosecutors believed Galante’s murder "cleared the way for Sicilian Mafia rivals in America to set up the Pizza Connection."
Raab said on page 207 that Galante attempted to injure the other four New York Mob family's interests in the drug trade, especially the Gambino crime family. "Perhaps even more grievous, after Carlo Gambino's death [Galante] had openly predicted that he would be crowned boss of bosses."
Although Frank Balistrieri and others would be sent to prison as a result of Cobb and Pistone's efforts, no Rockford Mob members were indicted in the Milwaukee case. The same may also be said about the Pizza Connection conspiracy.
SHOOTING ON THE SIDEWALK
Unlike Galante, Alfano survived a Mob attempt on his life.
After emerging from a Balducci's delicatessen in Greenwhich Village N.Y. the evening of Feb. 11, 1987, Alfano was shot three times in the back by two men who emerged from a red car. The shooting occurred during the October 1985 to March 1987 Pizza Connection trial.
Blumenthal wrote the failed assassination attempt was allegedly arranged by Gambino family associates, which left Alfano paralyzed below the waist and confined to a wheel chair.
Blumenthal alleged Salvatore Spatola, a convicted heroin and cocaine smuggler, said the attempted killing of Alfano had been arranged by Pasquale Conte, Sr.— a captain in the Gambino family.
The exact motive for Alfano's shooting appears to be a mystery. However, Blumenthal wrote that convicted New Jersey bank robber Frank Bavosa told the FBI and New York police he and two other men were paid $40,000 to kill Alfano "allegedly because of his continuing drug-trafficking activities."
AUTONOMOUS BUT UNITED
Even though the Rockford Mob has historically been considered part of the Chicago Mafia, which is known as "The Outfit," Tommaso Buscetta, Sicilian Mafia turncoat and lead witness in the Pizza Connection trial testified that Italian-based Mobsters based throughout the world acted as one in achieving their objectives.
Supporting that claim is a statement from Thomas V. Fuentes, special agent in the organized crime section for the FBI. During a 2003 broadcast on the History Channel, Fuentes said a Nov. 14, 1957 meeting of Mafia bosses from throughout the United States in Apalachin, N.Y., was in part to decide whether American Mob members would act cohesively to cash in on the drug trade.
Specifically, Fuentes said: "We believe that the main purpose was for the bosses of the American families to decide whether or not they would engage jointly in heroin trafficking with their cousins in Sicily."
Rockford Mob Consuleri Joseph Zito's brother, Frank Zito, boss of the Springfield, Ill., Mob was one of those who attended the Apalachin conference, according Joseph Zito's FBI file.
Also in attendance at the Apalachin meeting with Zito were at least 58 other Mob members, which included Carlo Gambino; Vito Genovese, boss of the New York Genovese crime family; Gambino’s brother-in-law Paul Castellano; and Joe Bonanno. Castellano would be Gambino’s successor after Gambino’s death in 1976. Castellano was murdered in 1986, and was succeeded by John Gotti, who died in a Missouri prison medical center June 10, 2002.
SCAM IN ALABAMA
In addition to a probable motive for Maggio's killing, Maggio's FBI file shows Mob's determination to not only steal money from citizens, but gain access to FBI files.
Maggio was convicted on Dec. 6, 1972 on seven counts of mail fraud and one count of conspiracy. The conviction was obtained after an unidentified male informant said the conspiracy involved a "boat registration scheme", wherein the name United States Merchant Marine was used to collect funds for a national boat registration service.
"He said they planned to circulate a letter to all boat owners for a $10 contribution, which would then be used as a registration fee for a registry to be maintained by the company [United States Merchant Marine Service, Inc.]. ...
"[Redact] had asked him if he had any idea how the United States Merchant Marine Service could patch into the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) National Crime Information Center (NCIC)."
Maggio was born Aug. 30, 1936 in Rockford, where he lived his entire life, until his death at age 43. Maggio married in 1959, and had three sons and one daughter. He became a made Mob member in approximately February 1965.
About the author: Jeff Havens is a former award-winning reporter for the weekly newspaper The Rock River Times in Rockford, Ill. Havens lived most of his life in the Rockford area, and wrote dozens of news articles about the Mob in Rockford and Chicago.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Monday, May 15, 2006
La Cosa Nostra Tough Guy-Turned-Witness follows the Rules
Friends of ours: Bruno Facciola, Luchesse Crime Family, Alphonse "Little Al" D'Arco, Sammy "the Bull" Gravano, John Gotti, Vittorio Amuso, Paulie Vario, Henry Hill, Vic Amuso, Anthony "Gaspipe" Casso, Genovese Crime Family, Vincent "Chin" Gigante, Colombo Crime Family, "Little Vic" Orena, Bonanno Crime Family, Anthony Spero, James Ida
Friends of mine: Stephen Caracappa, Louis Eppolito
The killers placed the dead canary in the freezer. Later, after their work was finished, they placed the bird inside the mouth of the equally deceased Bruno Facciola.
The August 1990 mob hit followed a tip from two corrupt NYPD detectives that the Luchese family capo had turned government informant. Facciola was stabbed, shot through both eyes and shot again in the head before the bird was stuffed in his mouth. It was murder with a message: See no evil. And definitely speak no evil.
The slaying was orchestrated by one of the crime family's true believers, a diminutive thug known to fellow Mafiosi as "Little Al." Few in organized crime embraced the mob ethos more fervently than Alphonse D'Arco, a hard case from the cradle.
"I was a man when I was born," Little Al once bragged. He committed every crime except pimping and pornography, which D'Arco deemed beneath his dignity. Murder was a different story; he committed eight while rising from Luchese associate to acting boss.
Few in organized crime despised informants more than Little Al. "Rats," he'd spit, his face contorted with disgust. He did a three-year heroin rap without opening his yap. So when the word came down that Facciola was singing to the feds, D'Arco arranged for his demise. And for the canary.
Four months later, with the family in turmoil, D'Arco stepped up to become the Luchese boss. His reign abruptly ended on Aug. 21, 1991, but not in the fashion he expected: on the wrong end of a jury verdict. Or maybe a bullet. Instead, D'Arco _ disgusted by the loss of mob honor, double-crossed by men he had respected _ became what he most abhorred: a rat. And not just any rat.
He brought down mob bosses, underbosses, consiglieres. Fifteen years later, the former made man is still making inmates out of accomplices as perhaps the most devastating mob informant ever _ even better than Sammy "The Bull" Gravano, who famously flipped on mob superstar John Gotti.
Alphonse D'Arco, born July 28, 1932, grew up near the Brooklyn Navy Yards. The neighborhood was heavy with heavyweight mobsters, including some of his relatives. His childhood, D'Arco once recalled, was "like being in the forest and all the trees were the dons and the organized crime guys." D'Arco walked into the woods without hesitation. He was 14 when he started hanging with the local mobsters; one year later, he dropped out of school.
Two tenets of the old-school Mafia appealed to D'Arco: Loyalty and honor. Both extended into his personal life; in 1951, during the Korean War, D'Arco volunteered for the Army, served two years and received an honorable discharge. When he returned to Brooklyn and the mob, he found a wife; they remain married to this day. The D'Arcos had five children.
In 1959, D'Arco first met future Luchese family boss Vittorio Amuso. He was soon making money for the Lucheses in a variety of ways: Hijacking. Drug dealing. Burglary. Counterfeiting. Arson. Armed robbery.
D'Arco became a made man on Aug. 23, 1982, in a ceremony held in a Bronx kitchen. "I should burn like this paper if I betray anyone in this room," D'Arco swore. D'Arco was particularly good with dates, and he always remembered this one. He remembered plenty of other things along the way. D'Arco was a guy who listened more than he spoke.
D'Arco had long ago resolved the differences between mob life and straight society. As John Q. Citizen, D'Arco would have lived by the rules. As Alphonse D'Arco, mobster, he would abide by the Mafia's code _ no questions asked. He obeyed orders and his elders, kicked money up to the bosses. And he never cooperated with law enforcement. Not even on the smallest of matters.
His capo was Paulie Vario, one of the family's most valued leaders. As the entire crew would soon discover, the erosion of mob values was under way. And it was happening in their midst.
Henry Hill was a Luchese associate and a cocaine dealer. Once arrested, Hill became the most notorious Mafia turncoat of the decade. His testimony helped put Vario away in 1984. Hill's life became fodder for the classic mob movie "GoodFellas." Vario, played by Paul Sorvino in the movie, died in a Texas prison four years later. His replacement was Alphonse D'Arco.
D'Arco's old friend Vic Amuso became the head of the family. His underboss was another pal, Anthony "Gaspipe" Casso, a hoodlum responsible for three dozen murders.
The mob life was good for D'Arco. He had about $1 million in loan-sharking money spread around, and ran his own crew. The family hierarchy relied on him to handle important business _ labor unions, racketeering, murder.
"He was a true believer in La Cosa Nostra," said former federal prosecutor George Stamboulidis. "He grew up in the life. It was something that he wanted, and succeeded at."
D'Arco dressed in shirts with big "wiseguy collars," and lived in an apartment on Spring Street in Little Italy. The market rent was $1,200 a month; D'Arco paid $200.
He brought his son, Joe, into the family business, and considered doing the same for another son, John. When the order came down for Joe to whack a guy in California, Al unflinchingly told his son to do it. At his father's behest, Joe committed a second mob murder in New York. The son played by his father's rules.
A few months after they exposed Bruno Facciola, the two crooked detectives provided Casso with a new bit of information: the underboss and Amuso were targeted for arrest. On Jan. 9, 1991, the pair met with Little Al at a Brooklyn bar, where Amuso pronounced him acting boss of the Lucheses. Then Casso and Amuso vanished. Top of the world, Al.
During eight eye-opening months as boss, D'Arco's blind allegiance to the mob was undermined. From seclusion, Amuso and Casso started a whispering campaign against D'Arco among the Luchese faithful. A fellow mobster informed D'Arco about the betrayal; so did FBI agents.
Yet D'Arco was unconvinced until the night of Sept. 18, 1991, when he attended a meeting in a midtown Manhattan hotel room. His longtime Luchese associates appeared unnerved. A family hit man was among the group, and the vibe was ugly. D'Arco had no doubt that he was marked for death.
D'Arco managed to bolt the meeting, and reconsidered his life _ or what might be left of it. He considered going to war against the Amuso/Casso faction, handling things in the style of his Brooklyn mentors. But D'Arco had no more loyalty to the Lucheses. And he no longer viewed them as men of honor.
"So I says, `That's it,"' D'Arco explained later from the witness stand. "I washed my hands of the whole thing."
D'Arco sent most of his family to Hawaii, far from the deadly streets of New York. Accompanied by his son, D'Arco hid in his mother's Long Island home. A deal was made. On Sept. 21, 1991, Alphonse D'Arco became the most unlikely cooperating witness ever recruited. And also one of the most expensive.
The federal government spent more than $2 million to relocate the D'Arco clan. Little Al and six other families were moved from New York to parts unknown. He left behind a mob fortune; his legal net worth was about $30,000.
News of the stunning defection spread quickly through the underworld. An attorney was dispatched to the Metropolitan Correction Center to inform jailed Gambino boss John Gotti that Little Al was switching sides.
The acting boss was one of the highest-ranking mobsters to ever flip, and federal authorities took advantage. He testified more than a dozen times against his former friends and the mob's top echelon.
D'Arco was a combative and effective witness. His memory for details and dates was unshakable. He took on New York's top defense attorneys, and refused to let any put words into his mouth.
Testifying at a 1996 competency hearing for Genovese family boss Vincent "Chin" Gigante, D'Arco flew into a rage. "Don't break my chops," D'Arco warned defense attorney Michael Shapiro. "I'll break yours, too."
D'Arco's testimony helped convict ex-cronies Amuso and Casso; Gigante and Colombo boss "Little Vic" Orena; Bonanno consigliere Anthony Spero; Genovese consigliere James Ida; and an assortment of other mobsters.
He testified before uncounted grand juries, spilling about corruption in the unions, the Garment District, the airports and the Hunts Point market. "D'Arco gave them great value for the money," said criminal defense lawyer Edward Hayes. "He testified against a lot of guys, and they got convicted. D'Arco is a lunatic, but he has a story."
Once, in a Brooklyn courtroom, D'Arco stood before a federal judge who noted they had grown up in the same nearby neighborhood. "Yeah," D'Arco replied. "And we both rose to the top of our professions."
Prosecutor Stamboulidis said D'Arco embraced his new calling as fervently as his old. "When he entered an agreement with the government, he answered all the questions with brutal honesty and thoroughness," Stamboulidis said. "A true believer does everything 100 percent. He believes 100 percent in his current position."
His reward came in November 2002, when D'Arco was sentenced at a courtroom in suburban Westchester County. Little Al appeared via closed-circuit television and received time served, which essentially meant no jail time. He was fined $50, and returned to obscurity.
While mob turncoats like Gravano and Hill went back to jail, D'Arco stayed on the right side of the law. And one of the biggest trials yet remained in his future _ one that brought him back to the day when Bruno Facciola had a canary for his last meal.
It was March 2005 when federal authorities announced the indictments of ex-NYPD detectives Stephen Caracappa and Louis Eppolito, former police partners-turned-partners in crime. The two were charged with taking $4,000 a month from Gaspipe Casso to work as Luchese family hit men.
On occasion, they also slipped the underboss inside information. They let Casso know that Facciola was reportedly working as an informant. Casso ordered D'Arco to handle the hit.
Little Al was called again to testify. The federal RICO statute, a powerful tool that allows law enforcement to link crimes committed over decades, made D'Arco every bit as valuable in 2006 as he was 15 years before. It was a big case, and D'Arco could help bring down the "Mafia Cops."
The ex-boss, now 73, looked more grandfatherly than Godfatherly as he testified, his thick Brooklyn accent unchanged by years of life outside the city. He wore a 20-year-old suit to court, one of two now hanging in his closet.
He spent parts of two days on the stand, standing firm under withering cross-examination from Hayes and former Gotti lawyer Bruce Cutler. Caracappa and Eppolito were quickly convicted, and faced life in prison.
Alphonse D'Arco went home, where his loyalty was still appreciated. But there was a moment during his testimony where D'Arco recalled a less complicated time, when he was a young man whose belief in simple values was absolute.
The burly Cutler, his booming voice filling the courtroom, recited a litany of perks that came D'Arco's way from the Witness Protection Program: No jail time. A new identity. An attorney, free of charge. "That's another reward, yes?" Cutler asked.
"I don't see anything to be a reward," D'Arco responded without hesitation. "I'd trade it all to go back on Spring Street."
Thanks to Larry McShane
Friends of mine: Stephen Caracappa, Louis Eppolito
The killers placed the dead canary in the freezer. Later, after their work was finished, they placed the bird inside the mouth of the equally deceased Bruno Facciola.
The August 1990 mob hit followed a tip from two corrupt NYPD detectives that the Luchese family capo had turned government informant. Facciola was stabbed, shot through both eyes and shot again in the head before the bird was stuffed in his mouth. It was murder with a message: See no evil. And definitely speak no evil.
The slaying was orchestrated by one of the crime family's true believers, a diminutive thug known to fellow Mafiosi as "Little Al." Few in organized crime embraced the mob ethos more fervently than Alphonse D'Arco, a hard case from the cradle.
"I was a man when I was born," Little Al once bragged. He committed every crime except pimping and pornography, which D'Arco deemed beneath his dignity. Murder was a different story; he committed eight while rising from Luchese associate to acting boss.
Few in organized crime despised informants more than Little Al. "Rats," he'd spit, his face contorted with disgust. He did a three-year heroin rap without opening his yap. So when the word came down that Facciola was singing to the feds, D'Arco arranged for his demise. And for the canary.
Four months later, with the family in turmoil, D'Arco stepped up to become the Luchese boss. His reign abruptly ended on Aug. 21, 1991, but not in the fashion he expected: on the wrong end of a jury verdict. Or maybe a bullet. Instead, D'Arco _ disgusted by the loss of mob honor, double-crossed by men he had respected _ became what he most abhorred: a rat. And not just any rat.
He brought down mob bosses, underbosses, consiglieres. Fifteen years later, the former made man is still making inmates out of accomplices as perhaps the most devastating mob informant ever _ even better than Sammy "The Bull" Gravano, who famously flipped on mob superstar John Gotti.
Alphonse D'Arco, born July 28, 1932, grew up near the Brooklyn Navy Yards. The neighborhood was heavy with heavyweight mobsters, including some of his relatives. His childhood, D'Arco once recalled, was "like being in the forest and all the trees were the dons and the organized crime guys." D'Arco walked into the woods without hesitation. He was 14 when he started hanging with the local mobsters; one year later, he dropped out of school.
Two tenets of the old-school Mafia appealed to D'Arco: Loyalty and honor. Both extended into his personal life; in 1951, during the Korean War, D'Arco volunteered for the Army, served two years and received an honorable discharge. When he returned to Brooklyn and the mob, he found a wife; they remain married to this day. The D'Arcos had five children.
In 1959, D'Arco first met future Luchese family boss Vittorio Amuso. He was soon making money for the Lucheses in a variety of ways: Hijacking. Drug dealing. Burglary. Counterfeiting. Arson. Armed robbery.
D'Arco became a made man on Aug. 23, 1982, in a ceremony held in a Bronx kitchen. "I should burn like this paper if I betray anyone in this room," D'Arco swore. D'Arco was particularly good with dates, and he always remembered this one. He remembered plenty of other things along the way. D'Arco was a guy who listened more than he spoke.
D'Arco had long ago resolved the differences between mob life and straight society. As John Q. Citizen, D'Arco would have lived by the rules. As Alphonse D'Arco, mobster, he would abide by the Mafia's code _ no questions asked. He obeyed orders and his elders, kicked money up to the bosses. And he never cooperated with law enforcement. Not even on the smallest of matters.
His capo was Paulie Vario, one of the family's most valued leaders. As the entire crew would soon discover, the erosion of mob values was under way. And it was happening in their midst.
Henry Hill was a Luchese associate and a cocaine dealer. Once arrested, Hill became the most notorious Mafia turncoat of the decade. His testimony helped put Vario away in 1984. Hill's life became fodder for the classic mob movie "GoodFellas." Vario, played by Paul Sorvino in the movie, died in a Texas prison four years later. His replacement was Alphonse D'Arco.
D'Arco's old friend Vic Amuso became the head of the family. His underboss was another pal, Anthony "Gaspipe" Casso, a hoodlum responsible for three dozen murders.
The mob life was good for D'Arco. He had about $1 million in loan-sharking money spread around, and ran his own crew. The family hierarchy relied on him to handle important business _ labor unions, racketeering, murder.
"He was a true believer in La Cosa Nostra," said former federal prosecutor George Stamboulidis. "He grew up in the life. It was something that he wanted, and succeeded at."
D'Arco dressed in shirts with big "wiseguy collars," and lived in an apartment on Spring Street in Little Italy. The market rent was $1,200 a month; D'Arco paid $200.
He brought his son, Joe, into the family business, and considered doing the same for another son, John. When the order came down for Joe to whack a guy in California, Al unflinchingly told his son to do it. At his father's behest, Joe committed a second mob murder in New York. The son played by his father's rules.
A few months after they exposed Bruno Facciola, the two crooked detectives provided Casso with a new bit of information: the underboss and Amuso were targeted for arrest. On Jan. 9, 1991, the pair met with Little Al at a Brooklyn bar, where Amuso pronounced him acting boss of the Lucheses. Then Casso and Amuso vanished. Top of the world, Al.
During eight eye-opening months as boss, D'Arco's blind allegiance to the mob was undermined. From seclusion, Amuso and Casso started a whispering campaign against D'Arco among the Luchese faithful. A fellow mobster informed D'Arco about the betrayal; so did FBI agents.
Yet D'Arco was unconvinced until the night of Sept. 18, 1991, when he attended a meeting in a midtown Manhattan hotel room. His longtime Luchese associates appeared unnerved. A family hit man was among the group, and the vibe was ugly. D'Arco had no doubt that he was marked for death.
D'Arco managed to bolt the meeting, and reconsidered his life _ or what might be left of it. He considered going to war against the Amuso/Casso faction, handling things in the style of his Brooklyn mentors. But D'Arco had no more loyalty to the Lucheses. And he no longer viewed them as men of honor.
"So I says, `That's it,"' D'Arco explained later from the witness stand. "I washed my hands of the whole thing."
D'Arco sent most of his family to Hawaii, far from the deadly streets of New York. Accompanied by his son, D'Arco hid in his mother's Long Island home. A deal was made. On Sept. 21, 1991, Alphonse D'Arco became the most unlikely cooperating witness ever recruited. And also one of the most expensive.
The federal government spent more than $2 million to relocate the D'Arco clan. Little Al and six other families were moved from New York to parts unknown. He left behind a mob fortune; his legal net worth was about $30,000.
News of the stunning defection spread quickly through the underworld. An attorney was dispatched to the Metropolitan Correction Center to inform jailed Gambino boss John Gotti that Little Al was switching sides.
The acting boss was one of the highest-ranking mobsters to ever flip, and federal authorities took advantage. He testified more than a dozen times against his former friends and the mob's top echelon.
D'Arco was a combative and effective witness. His memory for details and dates was unshakable. He took on New York's top defense attorneys, and refused to let any put words into his mouth.
Testifying at a 1996 competency hearing for Genovese family boss Vincent "Chin" Gigante, D'Arco flew into a rage. "Don't break my chops," D'Arco warned defense attorney Michael Shapiro. "I'll break yours, too."
D'Arco's testimony helped convict ex-cronies Amuso and Casso; Gigante and Colombo boss "Little Vic" Orena; Bonanno consigliere Anthony Spero; Genovese consigliere James Ida; and an assortment of other mobsters.
He testified before uncounted grand juries, spilling about corruption in the unions, the Garment District, the airports and the Hunts Point market. "D'Arco gave them great value for the money," said criminal defense lawyer Edward Hayes. "He testified against a lot of guys, and they got convicted. D'Arco is a lunatic, but he has a story."
Once, in a Brooklyn courtroom, D'Arco stood before a federal judge who noted they had grown up in the same nearby neighborhood. "Yeah," D'Arco replied. "And we both rose to the top of our professions."
Prosecutor Stamboulidis said D'Arco embraced his new calling as fervently as his old. "When he entered an agreement with the government, he answered all the questions with brutal honesty and thoroughness," Stamboulidis said. "A true believer does everything 100 percent. He believes 100 percent in his current position."
His reward came in November 2002, when D'Arco was sentenced at a courtroom in suburban Westchester County. Little Al appeared via closed-circuit television and received time served, which essentially meant no jail time. He was fined $50, and returned to obscurity.
While mob turncoats like Gravano and Hill went back to jail, D'Arco stayed on the right side of the law. And one of the biggest trials yet remained in his future _ one that brought him back to the day when Bruno Facciola had a canary for his last meal.
It was March 2005 when federal authorities announced the indictments of ex-NYPD detectives Stephen Caracappa and Louis Eppolito, former police partners-turned-partners in crime. The two were charged with taking $4,000 a month from Gaspipe Casso to work as Luchese family hit men.
On occasion, they also slipped the underboss inside information. They let Casso know that Facciola was reportedly working as an informant. Casso ordered D'Arco to handle the hit.
Little Al was called again to testify. The federal RICO statute, a powerful tool that allows law enforcement to link crimes committed over decades, made D'Arco every bit as valuable in 2006 as he was 15 years before. It was a big case, and D'Arco could help bring down the "Mafia Cops."
The ex-boss, now 73, looked more grandfatherly than Godfatherly as he testified, his thick Brooklyn accent unchanged by years of life outside the city. He wore a 20-year-old suit to court, one of two now hanging in his closet.
He spent parts of two days on the stand, standing firm under withering cross-examination from Hayes and former Gotti lawyer Bruce Cutler. Caracappa and Eppolito were quickly convicted, and faced life in prison.
Alphonse D'Arco went home, where his loyalty was still appreciated. But there was a moment during his testimony where D'Arco recalled a less complicated time, when he was a young man whose belief in simple values was absolute.
The burly Cutler, his booming voice filling the courtroom, recited a litany of perks that came D'Arco's way from the Witness Protection Program: No jail time. A new identity. An attorney, free of charge. "That's another reward, yes?" Cutler asked.
"I don't see anything to be a reward," D'Arco responded without hesitation. "I'd trade it all to go back on Spring Street."
Thanks to Larry McShane
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Mob Museum in Las Vegas
If Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman gets his wish, a mob museum will be coming to downtown Las Vegas. The Mayor has a new survey which supports his desires.
Book Club: Five Families: The Rise, Fall and Resurgence of America's Most Powerful Mafia Empires
Friends of ours: Gambino Crime Family, Bonanno Crime Family, Colombo Crime Family, Lucchese Crime Family, Genovese Crime Family. John "Dapper Don" Gotti, Vincente "The Chin" Gigante, Charles "Lucky" Luciano
Selwyn Raab recently met with Gotham Gazette's Reading NYC Book Club to discuss his book Five Families: The Rise, Fall and Resurgence of America's Most Powerful Mafia Empires, a history of the Mafia from its origins in Sicily to the present day. The following is an edited transcript of the event.
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Mr. Raab, your book focuses largely on the fall of the New York crime families, but the title includes the phrase "resurgence." What's going on with the Mafia in New York City right now?
SELWYN RAAB: Up until 9/11, there had been a 20-year long, concentrated attack against the Mafia, based on the Racketeer Influence Corruptions Act, popularly known as RICO. What was important about RICO was that for the first time it gave prosecutors an effective tool to go after the big shots in organized crime. At the attack's peak, there were 200 people working full time on just investigating the five Mafia families in New York -- the Gambino, the Bonano, the Colombo, the Lucchese, and the Genovese. The FBI had a specific squad following each family, and were able to bust John Gotti, Vincente "The Chin" Gigante, and other bosses, even though they didn't pull a trigger or shake anyone down themselves.
[This prosecution was coupled with a] concentrated effort to knock the Mafia out of some industries. Waste collection and construction were two immense moneymakers for them, and they've been hurt in both industries, especially commercial garbage collection. There is now some oversight by city agencies, licensing etc. The Mafia has been severely wounded in some of these big industries – but not mortally.
As soon as 9/11 occurred, terrorism justifiably became a prime concern and objective for the FBI and most police departments, including New York's. This created a reprieve – suddenly you had this tremendous diminution of people investigating the mob.
Today, the Mafia is still making money in gambling and loan sharking. The penalties for these crimes are very small, nobody goes away for a long time, and bosses are never brought up on charges. Still, this is terrific seed money to keep them going.
The Mafia is still very big on Wall Street, counterfeit credit cards, and phone scams. But a lot of the most recent action has been in the suburbs, where the theory is the local police departments don't have the expertise to stop them.
FORMING THE MAFIA
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Is there a fundamental difference between the Mafia and other types of organized crime?
SELWYN RAAB: We've always had organized crime groups – you had Irish and German gangs on the Bowery, Jewish bootleggers, the Italians, and so on. To oversimplify, prohibition changed all these gangs from street thugs to executives. The money was so big that they could expand, and when prohibition ended, they had big organizations to go into different things like labor racketeering.
But the Italians had a business genius named Charles "Lucky" Luciano. Luciano saw the handwriting on the wall – prohibition was going to end, and what were gangs going to do for loot? He also saw the lack of a central organization. Luciano had a major convention [of Italian gangs] in Chicago in 1931, and said we can't have fights among ourselves anymore, because it's bad for business. He turned the Italian gangs into a semi-military organization based on what had been going on in Sicily, where each family had a boss, underboss, consigliere, and soldiers.
If you knocked out the leaders of the Jewish or Irish gangs, they dissolved, because there was no military setup. But Luciano set up the Mafia so that the individual is secondary to the organization; the theory was that the organization had to survive at any cost. If the boss died or was arrested, the organization replaced him, and he set up another hierarchy.
To stop disputes between families, Luciano created something called the Commission comprised of representatives from each of the five New York families. Immediately, they had more power than anyone else in the country.
Luciano also urged the Mafiosi to diversify their activities. Instead of having just gambling or loan sharking as other gangs did, they went into labor racketeering. They were a mirror image of capitalism: whatever works.
That distinction still exists today. The Mafia has such a lot going for it. The Latin Americans – Columbians and Mexicans – are into one thing: narcotics. They don't have the know-how to do these other kinds of crimes. Same thing with the Asian gangs, the Chinese. They may be involved in smuggling immigrants, or do shake down rackets on stores or restaurants in Chinatown and Queens. But they're not involved in other things.
THE IMPACT OF ORGANIZED CRIME ON NEW YORK CITY
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Why did New York City's Mafia families have such a disproportionate amount of power within the nationwide Mafia right from the beginning?
SELWYN RAAB: We can thank Benito Mussolini partly for this. The Mafia had always been very strong since it started out in Sicily in the 18th century, where people once thought of them as liberators because they fought against the foreign invaders, protecting the small farmers, peasants, and businessmen. They developed into a tyrannical organization, and they grew very powerful both politically and financially. When Benito Mussolini came into power, he saw them as a threat and started a crackdown. He rounded people up and put them in cages, sent them away for life, or killed them.
Because of this, a lot of the young Mafiosi in the 1920s emigrated to the United States, and the major place they went was New York City. They liked New York. It was very profitable. There was a big Italian American population, bigger than anywhere else. They settled into New York because they were welcomed here.
The curse of New York is that there are still five powerful Mafia families here. In the rest of the country it wasn't that hard to combat the Mafia – you just had to knock off one family and there would be no one around to fill their shoes. Here, if there is a devastating blow to one family, that vacuum can be filled by one of the others. They know if it's a good opportunity, and they'll take advantage of it.
PHILIP ANGELL: In New York City organized crime families were involved in a lot of very public rackets – the trash business, the construction business, the ready-mix concrete business. These were pretty open secrets for a long time. Do you have any sense of why this was tolerated by the political, financial, and law enforcement establishment?
SELWYN RAAB: Well, one major reason was that J. Edgar Hoover didn't want the FBI to do anything with the mob. They didn't do anything until after his death in 1972.
I started as a reporter in New York in the 1960s on the education beat. I was working for a year when there was a big scandal: schools were falling apart. I was assigned to the story and found so many connections. There were secret Mafia partners to all these construction firms that were allowing ceilings to collapse, and building shoddy buildings. There was a big investigation, and eventually the city got rid of some of the people who worked for the Board of Education and banned some of the contractors. But they never went after the Mafia.
So I started asking around: Why don't you do anything about the Mafia? "It's too hard," I was told. But the real reason was that the Mafia was paying off the politicians and the judges. Every stone you turned up in this town had to do with the Mafia. Garbage, the fish market, you name it.
Also, when you talked to mayors off the record they'd say: 'everything runs smoothly now. If you fool around with the construction industry, there will be a strike. If you do anything about trying to regulate the garbage industry, they won't pick up the garbage. If you try to do anything about the fish market, restaurants won't get any fish. Leave well enough alone. They're not bothering anybody.'
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Can you point to any industries that the Mafia ruined or ran out of town?
SELWYN RAAB: I used to speak to people in the garment center, and they said you had a choice: either you get protection from the mob, or you sign up with the union and pay the union dues. The union will let you be non-union, but you have to be hooked up with some family. In fact, the corrupt unions were getting part of the payoffs.
There were mob families running all the trucking in the garment center – the Colombos and the Luccheses. You couldn't be an independent trucker and go into the garment center. You'd have flat tires, and your drivers would be beaten up. These weren't the only reasons – there were runaway industries for cheaper labor elsewhere, too– but they added an extra inducement. Why bother?
It wasn't just the garment industry. Garbage haulers wouldn't come into New York because they knew it wasn't worth the effort. If you came in you'd be shaken down, and if you didn't pay them off there would be a strike, because they controlled the Teamsters on the garbage locals.
A lot of fish wholesalers wouldn't come into New York for many years. They would rather go to New England, or the big fish markets in Baltimore, where they wouldn't have this trouble.
PHILIP ANGELL: And the important thing to remember is that it was underwritten by violence, no matter what industry.
ROMANTICIZING THE MOB
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Why do people have such a romantic view of this?
SELWYN RAAB: Well, that's Hollywood. American entertainers have always had a vicarious love affair with criminals. They're interesting people; you're more interested in rogues than good guys. Do you want to do a story about the founder of the Red Cross or Salvation Army? No one is too interested in that.
One of my pet peeves is a movie like the Godfather, where we set up the idea that there are good Mafiosi and bad Mafiosi. Don Vito Corleone, played by Marlon Brando, he's a white hat, a good guy cowboy. At one point, he's opposed to narcotics, and as a result there's an attempt on his life by the bad Mafiosi. But who wins? The good guys. They try to create this image that it's not so simple, that you can identify with them.
I don't watch the Sopranos every week, but when I do watch what I see is a soap opera not about a mob family, but a dysfunctional suburban family. If you're a middle-aged man, you can easily identify with Tony Soprano. His kids are rebelling against him, his wife is smarter than him and wants to leave him, he doesn't have the old time loyalty when he goes to the office anymore. He has all these midlife crises, even though he lives in a mini mansion, has a harem of beauties throwing themselves at him, and he's got big cars and all the money in the world. Yet he's got these crises; you can sympathize with him. You don’t see him for the most part killing people.
You get a vicarious kick out of watching these people. Look at the great lives they lead: they sleep late, they don't have to go to work, they make a lot of money, they have a lot of woman friends. It looks good.
There's one other aspect which I think is a subtext to all of this, which makes these movies popular and is why people romanticize the Mafia: they're antiestablishment. In the Godfather, they talk about how the Italian Americans couldn't get a break. They had to become a government onto themselves, because the WASP establishment wouldn't allow them to become bankers or big businessmen. You can see it also in the Sopranos. His father was a laborer. What a choice: drive a truck for a living, or could he work for the mob and make a lot of money, be comfortable, take care of your family?
GOTHAM GAZETTE: But how much of that is true?
SELWYN RAAB: Well, I've talked to a few made men. They always rationalized what they did and why they did it. But they have always been into anything that will bring them money.
Thanks to the GOTHAM GAZETTE
Selwyn Raab recently met with Gotham Gazette's Reading NYC Book Club to discuss his book Five Families: The Rise, Fall and Resurgence of America's Most Powerful Mafia Empires, a history of the Mafia from its origins in Sicily to the present day. The following is an edited transcript of the event.
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Mr. Raab, your book focuses largely on the fall of the New York crime families, but the title includes the phrase "resurgence." What's going on with the Mafia in New York City right now?
SELWYN RAAB: Up until 9/11, there had been a 20-year long, concentrated attack against the Mafia, based on the Racketeer Influence Corruptions Act, popularly known as RICO. What was important about RICO was that for the first time it gave prosecutors an effective tool to go after the big shots in organized crime. At the attack's peak, there were 200 people working full time on just investigating the five Mafia families in New York -- the Gambino, the Bonano, the Colombo, the Lucchese, and the Genovese. The FBI had a specific squad following each family, and were able to bust John Gotti, Vincente "The Chin" Gigante, and other bosses, even though they didn't pull a trigger or shake anyone down themselves.
[This prosecution was coupled with a] concentrated effort to knock the Mafia out of some industries. Waste collection and construction were two immense moneymakers for them, and they've been hurt in both industries, especially commercial garbage collection. There is now some oversight by city agencies, licensing etc. The Mafia has been severely wounded in some of these big industries – but not mortally.
As soon as 9/11 occurred, terrorism justifiably became a prime concern and objective for the FBI and most police departments, including New York's. This created a reprieve – suddenly you had this tremendous diminution of people investigating the mob.
Today, the Mafia is still making money in gambling and loan sharking. The penalties for these crimes are very small, nobody goes away for a long time, and bosses are never brought up on charges. Still, this is terrific seed money to keep them going.
The Mafia is still very big on Wall Street, counterfeit credit cards, and phone scams. But a lot of the most recent action has been in the suburbs, where the theory is the local police departments don't have the expertise to stop them.
FORMING THE MAFIA
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Is there a fundamental difference between the Mafia and other types of organized crime?
SELWYN RAAB: We've always had organized crime groups – you had Irish and German gangs on the Bowery, Jewish bootleggers, the Italians, and so on. To oversimplify, prohibition changed all these gangs from street thugs to executives. The money was so big that they could expand, and when prohibition ended, they had big organizations to go into different things like labor racketeering.
But the Italians had a business genius named Charles "Lucky" Luciano. Luciano saw the handwriting on the wall – prohibition was going to end, and what were gangs going to do for loot? He also saw the lack of a central organization. Luciano had a major convention [of Italian gangs] in Chicago in 1931, and said we can't have fights among ourselves anymore, because it's bad for business. He turned the Italian gangs into a semi-military organization based on what had been going on in Sicily, where each family had a boss, underboss, consigliere, and soldiers.
If you knocked out the leaders of the Jewish or Irish gangs, they dissolved, because there was no military setup. But Luciano set up the Mafia so that the individual is secondary to the organization; the theory was that the organization had to survive at any cost. If the boss died or was arrested, the organization replaced him, and he set up another hierarchy.
To stop disputes between families, Luciano created something called the Commission comprised of representatives from each of the five New York families. Immediately, they had more power than anyone else in the country.
Luciano also urged the Mafiosi to diversify their activities. Instead of having just gambling or loan sharking as other gangs did, they went into labor racketeering. They were a mirror image of capitalism: whatever works.
That distinction still exists today. The Mafia has such a lot going for it. The Latin Americans – Columbians and Mexicans – are into one thing: narcotics. They don't have the know-how to do these other kinds of crimes. Same thing with the Asian gangs, the Chinese. They may be involved in smuggling immigrants, or do shake down rackets on stores or restaurants in Chinatown and Queens. But they're not involved in other things.
THE IMPACT OF ORGANIZED CRIME ON NEW YORK CITY
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Why did New York City's Mafia families have such a disproportionate amount of power within the nationwide Mafia right from the beginning?
SELWYN RAAB: We can thank Benito Mussolini partly for this. The Mafia had always been very strong since it started out in Sicily in the 18th century, where people once thought of them as liberators because they fought against the foreign invaders, protecting the small farmers, peasants, and businessmen. They developed into a tyrannical organization, and they grew very powerful both politically and financially. When Benito Mussolini came into power, he saw them as a threat and started a crackdown. He rounded people up and put them in cages, sent them away for life, or killed them.
Because of this, a lot of the young Mafiosi in the 1920s emigrated to the United States, and the major place they went was New York City. They liked New York. It was very profitable. There was a big Italian American population, bigger than anywhere else. They settled into New York because they were welcomed here.
The curse of New York is that there are still five powerful Mafia families here. In the rest of the country it wasn't that hard to combat the Mafia – you just had to knock off one family and there would be no one around to fill their shoes. Here, if there is a devastating blow to one family, that vacuum can be filled by one of the others. They know if it's a good opportunity, and they'll take advantage of it.
PHILIP ANGELL: In New York City organized crime families were involved in a lot of very public rackets – the trash business, the construction business, the ready-mix concrete business. These were pretty open secrets for a long time. Do you have any sense of why this was tolerated by the political, financial, and law enforcement establishment?
SELWYN RAAB: Well, one major reason was that J. Edgar Hoover didn't want the FBI to do anything with the mob. They didn't do anything until after his death in 1972.
I started as a reporter in New York in the 1960s on the education beat. I was working for a year when there was a big scandal: schools were falling apart. I was assigned to the story and found so many connections. There were secret Mafia partners to all these construction firms that were allowing ceilings to collapse, and building shoddy buildings. There was a big investigation, and eventually the city got rid of some of the people who worked for the Board of Education and banned some of the contractors. But they never went after the Mafia.
So I started asking around: Why don't you do anything about the Mafia? "It's too hard," I was told. But the real reason was that the Mafia was paying off the politicians and the judges. Every stone you turned up in this town had to do with the Mafia. Garbage, the fish market, you name it.
Also, when you talked to mayors off the record they'd say: 'everything runs smoothly now. If you fool around with the construction industry, there will be a strike. If you do anything about trying to regulate the garbage industry, they won't pick up the garbage. If you try to do anything about the fish market, restaurants won't get any fish. Leave well enough alone. They're not bothering anybody.'
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Can you point to any industries that the Mafia ruined or ran out of town?
SELWYN RAAB: I used to speak to people in the garment center, and they said you had a choice: either you get protection from the mob, or you sign up with the union and pay the union dues. The union will let you be non-union, but you have to be hooked up with some family. In fact, the corrupt unions were getting part of the payoffs.
There were mob families running all the trucking in the garment center – the Colombos and the Luccheses. You couldn't be an independent trucker and go into the garment center. You'd have flat tires, and your drivers would be beaten up. These weren't the only reasons – there were runaway industries for cheaper labor elsewhere, too– but they added an extra inducement. Why bother?
It wasn't just the garment industry. Garbage haulers wouldn't come into New York because they knew it wasn't worth the effort. If you came in you'd be shaken down, and if you didn't pay them off there would be a strike, because they controlled the Teamsters on the garbage locals.
A lot of fish wholesalers wouldn't come into New York for many years. They would rather go to New England, or the big fish markets in Baltimore, where they wouldn't have this trouble.
PHILIP ANGELL: And the important thing to remember is that it was underwritten by violence, no matter what industry.
ROMANTICIZING THE MOB
GOTHAM GAZETTE: Why do people have such a romantic view of this?
SELWYN RAAB: Well, that's Hollywood. American entertainers have always had a vicarious love affair with criminals. They're interesting people; you're more interested in rogues than good guys. Do you want to do a story about the founder of the Red Cross or Salvation Army? No one is too interested in that.
One of my pet peeves is a movie like the Godfather, where we set up the idea that there are good Mafiosi and bad Mafiosi. Don Vito Corleone, played by Marlon Brando, he's a white hat, a good guy cowboy. At one point, he's opposed to narcotics, and as a result there's an attempt on his life by the bad Mafiosi. But who wins? The good guys. They try to create this image that it's not so simple, that you can identify with them.
I don't watch the Sopranos every week, but when I do watch what I see is a soap opera not about a mob family, but a dysfunctional suburban family. If you're a middle-aged man, you can easily identify with Tony Soprano. His kids are rebelling against him, his wife is smarter than him and wants to leave him, he doesn't have the old time loyalty when he goes to the office anymore. He has all these midlife crises, even though he lives in a mini mansion, has a harem of beauties throwing themselves at him, and he's got big cars and all the money in the world. Yet he's got these crises; you can sympathize with him. You don’t see him for the most part killing people.
You get a vicarious kick out of watching these people. Look at the great lives they lead: they sleep late, they don't have to go to work, they make a lot of money, they have a lot of woman friends. It looks good.
There's one other aspect which I think is a subtext to all of this, which makes these movies popular and is why people romanticize the Mafia: they're antiestablishment. In the Godfather, they talk about how the Italian Americans couldn't get a break. They had to become a government onto themselves, because the WASP establishment wouldn't allow them to become bankers or big businessmen. You can see it also in the Sopranos. His father was a laborer. What a choice: drive a truck for a living, or could he work for the mob and make a lot of money, be comfortable, take care of your family?
GOTHAM GAZETTE: But how much of that is true?
SELWYN RAAB: Well, I've talked to a few made men. They always rationalized what they did and why they did it. But they have always been into anything that will bring them money.
Thanks to the GOTHAM GAZETTE
Monday, May 08, 2006
After a Trial, the Tables Are Turned on a Defense Lawyer
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito
Bruce Cutler, whose cross-examinations are so ardently aggressive that those who undergo them are often said to have been "Bruce-ified," is expected to be cross-examined himself next month at a highly unusual hearing in the continuing saga of the so-called Mafia Cops trial.
As one of New York's fiercest — and most physically formidable — lawyers, Mr. Cutler has always taken a bellicose approach, making a name for himself as the sort of lawyer who will slam down documents and stretch the limits of invective on behalf of a client. On June 29, however, he will most likely — for the first time in his 30-year career — take the witness stand himself, this time in his own defense.
His former client at the trial, Louis J. Eppolito, a retired New York detective, has accused him in court documents and in the press of shoddy legal work, saying that Mr. Cutler roundly ignored him at the trial and would not allow him to testify before the jury. On April 6, Mr. Eppolito was convicted of helping in at least eight murders by the mob and, despite the fact that he once professed respect for Mr. Cutler, he has now turned against him, hoping that the verdict will be set aside.
As part of that process, Judge Jack B. Weinstein has decided to hold a hearing in federal court in Brooklyn to determine, as the judge wrote in his order, "the competency of the defense," which is to say whether Mr. Cutler botched the job. No matter its result, the hearing is assured to be a courtroom smoker in the old style, as Mr. Cutler (brash, verbose and built like a tugboat) settles in against Mr. Eppolito's new lawyer, Joseph A. Bondy (smooth voice, smooth style, smooth suit).
It is even possible that Mr. Eppolito will take the stand and tell the judge what he has already told The Daily News: He was vastly unhappy with Mr. Cutler's work, despite appearances at trial. On the day of his defense, such as it was ( it was 13 minutes long), Mr. Eppolito told reporters, "I have faith in Bruce and always will," and then, when the verdict was read, the two men hugged — adoringly, it seemed — in open court.
Nonetheless, in papers filed this week, Mr. Eppolito said that, during the trial, he took to writing notes to Mr. Cutler and "was routinely told that I was annoying him and to stop."
Mr. Cutler did not respond yesterday to phone calls seeking comment, but he responded to the charges earlier this week by calling Mr. Eppolito "a desperate man" in "desperate times."
Thanks to Alan Feuer
Bruce Cutler, whose cross-examinations are so ardently aggressive that those who undergo them are often said to have been "Bruce-ified," is expected to be cross-examined himself next month at a highly unusual hearing in the continuing saga of the so-called Mafia Cops trial.
As one of New York's fiercest — and most physically formidable — lawyers, Mr. Cutler has always taken a bellicose approach, making a name for himself as the sort of lawyer who will slam down documents and stretch the limits of invective on behalf of a client. On June 29, however, he will most likely — for the first time in his 30-year career — take the witness stand himself, this time in his own defense.
His former client at the trial, Louis J. Eppolito, a retired New York detective, has accused him in court documents and in the press of shoddy legal work, saying that Mr. Cutler roundly ignored him at the trial and would not allow him to testify before the jury. On April 6, Mr. Eppolito was convicted of helping in at least eight murders by the mob and, despite the fact that he once professed respect for Mr. Cutler, he has now turned against him, hoping that the verdict will be set aside.
As part of that process, Judge Jack B. Weinstein has decided to hold a hearing in federal court in Brooklyn to determine, as the judge wrote in his order, "the competency of the defense," which is to say whether Mr. Cutler botched the job. No matter its result, the hearing is assured to be a courtroom smoker in the old style, as Mr. Cutler (brash, verbose and built like a tugboat) settles in against Mr. Eppolito's new lawyer, Joseph A. Bondy (smooth voice, smooth style, smooth suit).
It is even possible that Mr. Eppolito will take the stand and tell the judge what he has already told The Daily News: He was vastly unhappy with Mr. Cutler's work, despite appearances at trial. On the day of his defense, such as it was ( it was 13 minutes long), Mr. Eppolito told reporters, "I have faith in Bruce and always will," and then, when the verdict was read, the two men hugged — adoringly, it seemed — in open court.
Nonetheless, in papers filed this week, Mr. Eppolito said that, during the trial, he took to writing notes to Mr. Cutler and "was routinely told that I was annoying him and to stop."
Mr. Cutler did not respond yesterday to phone calls seeking comment, but he responded to the charges earlier this week by calling Mr. Eppolito "a desperate man" in "desperate times."
Thanks to Alan Feuer
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Mop Cop Will Make Case for Poor Defense
Friends of ours: John "Dapper Don" Gotti
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Carappa
Mob cop Louis Eppolito will be allowed to air his gripes about his flashy former lawyer Bruce Cutler - who he says defended him poorly at his murder trial.
At the convicted killer's request, Brooklyn federal Judge Jack Weinstein ordered lawyers back into court June 29 to hash out the matter, including Cutler. "Defense counsel spent the majority of Mr. Eppolito's closing argument speaking about himself, including [that] he lost 14 pounds during trial," new lawyer Joseph Bondy said in a court document.
The ostentatious lawyer and client parted ways in late April after the conviction. Eppolito and Cutler had even argued about the defense, which lasted about 12 minutes.
Cutler, who also defended late mob boss "Dapper Don" John Gotti, didn't respond to a request for comment yesterday.
The hearing is unlikely to have an impact on whether Weinstein will throw out the conviction, because the judge has already hinted strongly that he would let an appeals court decide the matter. The murder conviction could be reversed due to statute-of-limitations considerations.
Eppolito and fellow mob cop Stephen Caracappa are to be sentenced on May 22. The pair face life in the slammer.
The two were convicted of committing a slew of gangland slayings in the late '80s and early '90s while wearing their shields, as well as dealing drugs in Las Vegas in 2004.
Thanks to Heidi Singer
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Carappa
Mob cop Louis Eppolito will be allowed to air his gripes about his flashy former lawyer Bruce Cutler - who he says defended him poorly at his murder trial.
At the convicted killer's request, Brooklyn federal Judge Jack Weinstein ordered lawyers back into court June 29 to hash out the matter, including Cutler. "Defense counsel spent the majority of Mr. Eppolito's closing argument speaking about himself, including [that] he lost 14 pounds during trial," new lawyer Joseph Bondy said in a court document.
The ostentatious lawyer and client parted ways in late April after the conviction. Eppolito and Cutler had even argued about the defense, which lasted about 12 minutes.
Cutler, who also defended late mob boss "Dapper Don" John Gotti, didn't respond to a request for comment yesterday.
The hearing is unlikely to have an impact on whether Weinstein will throw out the conviction, because the judge has already hinted strongly that he would let an appeals court decide the matter. The murder conviction could be reversed due to statute-of-limitations considerations.
Eppolito and fellow mob cop Stephen Caracappa are to be sentenced on May 22. The pair face life in the slammer.
The two were convicted of committing a slew of gangland slayings in the late '80s and early '90s while wearing their shields, as well as dealing drugs in Las Vegas in 2004.
Thanks to Heidi Singer
Friday, May 05, 2006
NY "Mafia" Firm is Closed
Friends of ours: Gambino Crime Family, Salvatore "Sammy the Bull" Gravano, Edward Garofola, Michael "Mickey Scars" DiLeonardo
New York City has ordered a mob-tainted construction company at the center of former NYPD Commissioner Bernard Kerik's bribe-taking probe to shut down because the owners "lacked character, honesty and integrity,". The Bloomberg administration's decision to deny permits for Interstate Materials Corp. to work within the five boroughs followed a ruling by the city's Business Integrity Commission that ripped into owners Peter and Frank DiTommaso, officials said.
According to officials, the BIC, formerly known as the Trade Waste Commission, quietly issued a "supplemental ruling" on Interstate's mob connections last fall that determined the company was not fit to do business in or with the city.
The commission also determined the DiTommasos bought the company from two major Gambino crime-family figures - Salvatore "Sammy Bull" Gravano's brother-in-law, Edward Garofola, and Michael "Mickey Scars" DiLeonardo - merely to help the mobsters "avoid regulatory scrutiny and preserve the mob's influence over the transfer station," commission Chairman Thomas McCormack wrote.
Nearly two months later, the city Sanitation Department yanked "temporary" permits allowing Interstate to operate its massive "clean-fill material" facility on Staten Island for the past 10 years. City officials also instructed Interstate that it had until New Year's Eve to shut down.
Interstate obtained a stay from the Richmond County Supreme Court challenging the edict. A final decision regarding the city's right to cut off Interstate is expected shortly, Sanitation Department spokesman Vito Turso said.
Meanwhile, in The Bronx, a grand jury is continuing to probe whether Interstate paid for nearly $200,000 worth of apartment renovations for Kerik, then city correction commissioner.
It is also investigating whether the firm hired his brother, Donald, and a one-time close friend, Lawrence Ray, in exchange for getting Kerik to go to bat with the Trade Waste Commission. Kerik and the DiTommasos have denied any wrongdoing.
Sources say the Bronx grand jury will be asked in two weeks to indict Kerik.
Thanks to Murray Weis
New York City has ordered a mob-tainted construction company at the center of former NYPD Commissioner Bernard Kerik's bribe-taking probe to shut down because the owners "lacked character, honesty and integrity,". The Bloomberg administration's decision to deny permits for Interstate Materials Corp. to work within the five boroughs followed a ruling by the city's Business Integrity Commission that ripped into owners Peter and Frank DiTommaso, officials said.
According to officials, the BIC, formerly known as the Trade Waste Commission, quietly issued a "supplemental ruling" on Interstate's mob connections last fall that determined the company was not fit to do business in or with the city.
The commission also determined the DiTommasos bought the company from two major Gambino crime-family figures - Salvatore "Sammy Bull" Gravano's brother-in-law, Edward Garofola, and Michael "Mickey Scars" DiLeonardo - merely to help the mobsters "avoid regulatory scrutiny and preserve the mob's influence over the transfer station," commission Chairman Thomas McCormack wrote.
Nearly two months later, the city Sanitation Department yanked "temporary" permits allowing Interstate to operate its massive "clean-fill material" facility on Staten Island for the past 10 years. City officials also instructed Interstate that it had until New Year's Eve to shut down.
Interstate obtained a stay from the Richmond County Supreme Court challenging the edict. A final decision regarding the city's right to cut off Interstate is expected shortly, Sanitation Department spokesman Vito Turso said.
Meanwhile, in The Bronx, a grand jury is continuing to probe whether Interstate paid for nearly $200,000 worth of apartment renovations for Kerik, then city correction commissioner.
It is also investigating whether the firm hired his brother, Donald, and a one-time close friend, Lawrence Ray, in exchange for getting Kerik to go to bat with the Trade Waste Commission. Kerik and the DiTommasos have denied any wrongdoing.
Sources say the Bronx grand jury will be asked in two weeks to indict Kerik.
Thanks to Murray Weis
Judge: Basis for Appeal in 'Mafia Cops' Trial
The judge
, who presided over the Mafia Cops Trial, of two former police detectives convicted of moonlighting as hit men for the mob denied the defendants' request to overturn the verdict, but the judge acknowledged there is basis for an appeal.
Louis Eppolito and former New York Police Department partner Stephen Caracappa were convicted on April 6 of participating in eight killings while on the payroll of a Mafia underboss, Anthony Casso.
Their lawyers appeared before U.S. District Judge Jack Weinstein.
Weinstein says "It was not a strong case, and the government was warned that from day one.'' Eppolito and Caracappa were respected detectives who worked as hired killers for Casso from 1986 to 1990. In two of the slayings, they used their police credentials to make traffic stops that ended with the drivers killed.
-
-
, who presided over the Mafia Cops Trial, of two former police detectives convicted of moonlighting as hit men for the mob denied the defendants' request to overturn the verdict, but the judge acknowledged there is basis for an appeal.Louis Eppolito and former New York Police Department partner Stephen Caracappa were convicted on April 6 of participating in eight killings while on the payroll of a Mafia underboss, Anthony Casso.
Their lawyers appeared before U.S. District Judge Jack Weinstein.
Weinstein says "It was not a strong case, and the government was warned that from day one.'' Eppolito and Caracappa were respected detectives who worked as hired killers for Casso from 1986 to 1990. In two of the slayings, they used their police credentials to make traffic stops that ended with the drivers killed.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Strippers + Golf + Police + The Chicago Mob = Lawsuit
Strippers on a golf course, some suburban police and the Chicago mob. They all come together in an unusual lawsuit that is the subject of this Intelligence Report. The case follows an I-Team report from 2002.
Several patrolmen from west suburban Northlake lost their jobs after participating in a police golf outing that featured exotic dancers acting as caddies. That was almost four years ago. Now, one of the former cops who attended the outing is suing Northlake and its police chief for allegedly smearing his reputation and blackballing him with other police departments.
I-Team surveillance spotted Northlake police officers and some local business leaders gathering with female caddies in the summer of 2002. The women had been deployed to the golf outing from their full-time place of employment: Allstars Gentlemen's Club in west suburban Northlake where they work as strippers or barmaids.
"They were dressed just like anybody else going to a golf outing. I doubt any of the golfers knew if they were waitresses or nurses or whatever, and they were working spending their time their day for a good cause helping people get scholarships, and frankly we applaud the Northlake lodge for the efforts that they are doing," said David Wickster, FOP labor council.
Among the outing organizers was veteran lawman Ementi Coary, a Northlake patrolman. After the I-Team report revealed these 18-hole antics, there was an internal investigation of Coary and several other cops who all resigned.
"The outing in question was not a sanctioned by the police department or city," said Chief Dennis Koletsos, Northlake police. But Chief Dennis Koletsos is being sued by ex-officer Coary for slander and allegedly breaching their agreement that Coary's history would not be revealed to any prospective employers.
In the Cook County suit, Coary says he was not hired for a police position in Rosemont after Koletsos revealed he had a videotape of Coary taking cash from the mob-connected strip club and has telephone records of Coary in phone conversations with Chicago outfit boss James "Jimmy the Man" Marcello.
Coary denies the charges and Chief Koletsos says he never made the comments alleged in the lawsuit.
There is another curious element to this story. The Northlake police produced a slick, 20-minute video to recruit new officers. The tape is accessible on Northlake's web site. But four years after Northlake's police department was embarrassed by a stripper golf outing, the officers involved-, resigned long ago, are still on Northlake's recruitment tape.
Even disgraced officer Ementi Coary, who claims the chief has framed him as being mobbed up and is now suing the department, is still starring in their video.
The police chief says Northlake doesn't have enough money to edit out Coary and the others from that recruitment tape. As for the suit, the chief said "when you open Pandora's box, you never know what's going to come out."
Coary now works as part-time policeman in Melrose Park.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
I-Team surveillance spotted Northlake police officers and some local business leaders gathering with female caddies in the summer of 2002. The women had been deployed to the golf outing from their full-time place of employment: Allstars Gentlemen's Club in west suburban Northlake where they work as strippers or barmaids.
"They were dressed just like anybody else going to a golf outing. I doubt any of the golfers knew if they were waitresses or nurses or whatever, and they were working spending their time their day for a good cause helping people get scholarships, and frankly we applaud the Northlake lodge for the efforts that they are doing," said David Wickster, FOP labor council.
Among the outing organizers was veteran lawman Ementi Coary, a Northlake patrolman. After the I-Team report revealed these 18-hole antics, there was an internal investigation of Coary and several other cops who all resigned.
"The outing in question was not a sanctioned by the police department or city," said Chief Dennis Koletsos, Northlake police. But Chief Dennis Koletsos is being sued by ex-officer Coary for slander and allegedly breaching their agreement that Coary's history would not be revealed to any prospective employers.
In the Cook County suit, Coary says he was not hired for a police position in Rosemont after Koletsos revealed he had a videotape of Coary taking cash from the mob-connected strip club and has telephone records of Coary in phone conversations with Chicago outfit boss James "Jimmy the Man" Marcello.
Coary denies the charges and Chief Koletsos says he never made the comments alleged in the lawsuit.
There is another curious element to this story. The Northlake police produced a slick, 20-minute video to recruit new officers. The tape is accessible on Northlake's web site. But four years after Northlake's police department was embarrassed by a stripper golf outing, the officers involved-, resigned long ago, are still on Northlake's recruitment tape.
Even disgraced officer Ementi Coary, who claims the chief has framed him as being mobbed up and is now suing the department, is still starring in their video.
The police chief says Northlake doesn't have enough money to edit out Coary and the others from that recruitment tape. As for the suit, the chief said "when you open Pandora's box, you never know what's going to come out."
Coary now works as part-time policeman in Melrose Park.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
The Mafia Guide to Succeeding in Business
California based Network Media, Inc. has released a new Web site that shows how entrepreneurs can learn valuable business lessons from the Mafia.
MafiaGuide is based on the lifelong friendship that a company associate shared with a reputed mob boss, and his list of "rules" for succeeding in business." Network Media President, Christopher Stewart, calls the Web site the first of its kind.
"The Mafia Guide to Succeeding in Business draws positive business lessons from a nefarious source," says Stewart. "That's the obvious hook. However, as visitors to the Web site will quickly see, the lessons learned are powerful and invaluable to anyone either starting a business or building one."
The Web site is a teaser for the upcomming book, The Mafia Guide to Starting a Small Business, which is currently in production.
MafiaGuide is based on the lifelong friendship that a company associate shared with a reputed mob boss, and his list of "rules" for succeeding in business." Network Media President, Christopher Stewart, calls the Web site the first of its kind.
"The Mafia Guide to Succeeding in Business draws positive business lessons from a nefarious source," says Stewart. "That's the obvious hook. However, as visitors to the Web site will quickly see, the lessons learned are powerful and invaluable to anyone either starting a business or building one."
The Web site is a teaser for the upcomming book, The Mafia Guide to Starting a Small Business, which is currently in production.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
'Sopranos' in Trouble with the Law
Two "Sopranos" actors are in trouble with the law, according to a report published Tuesday.
According to a report in the New York Post, John Ventimiglia, who plays chef Artie Bucco on the show, was arrested on charges of drunken driving and cocaine possession about a block from his Brooklyn home.
Also, Louis Gross, the actor who plays Tony Soprano's new bodyguard, has been charged in a Queens break-in. Gross was previously arrested on shoplifting charges in February.
According to a report in the New York Post, John Ventimiglia, who plays chef Artie Bucco on the show, was arrested on charges of drunken driving and cocaine possession about a block from his Brooklyn home.
Also, Louis Gross, the actor who plays Tony Soprano's new bodyguard, has been charged in a Queens break-in. Gross was previously arrested on shoplifting charges in February.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Mafia Cop Reportedly Can't Afford New Lawyer
Friends of mine: Stephen Caracappa, Louis Eppolito
Convicted Mafia cop Stephen Caracappa is broke and can't afford to hire a new lawyer, according to a published report. The former Great Kills resident is $250,000 in debt, according to court papers filed this week, the Daily News reported.
Caracappa is also reportedly unhappy with his representation. In a letter to Federal Judge Jack Weinstein, Dominick Caracappa, Stephen's brother, wrote that "the defense attorneys failed to address" the defendants' relationship with members of the mob.
Caracappa's attorney Edward Hayes, who is not owed money by Caracappa, told the Daily News that his client "needs a fresh look at the case and someone who can knock me if that's what the appeal needs."
Caracappa and his former partner Louis Eppolito were convicted earlier this month of being hit men for the Mafia and face life in prison without a chance of parole when sentenced.
Thanks to Staten Island Advance
Convicted Mafia cop Stephen Caracappa is broke and can't afford to hire a new lawyer, according to a published report. The former Great Kills resident is $250,000 in debt, according to court papers filed this week, the Daily News reported.
Caracappa is also reportedly unhappy with his representation. In a letter to Federal Judge Jack Weinstein, Dominick Caracappa, Stephen's brother, wrote that "the defense attorneys failed to address" the defendants' relationship with members of the mob.
Caracappa's attorney Edward Hayes, who is not owed money by Caracappa, told the Daily News that his client "needs a fresh look at the case and someone who can knock me if that's what the appeal needs."
Caracappa and his former partner Louis Eppolito were convicted earlier this month of being hit men for the Mafia and face life in prison without a chance of parole when sentenced.
Thanks to Staten Island Advance
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Heat Surrounds Sheriff For Alleged Mob Association
Friends of mine: Rick Rizzolo, Freddie Glusman
A candidate for Orange County sheriff called Thursday for the resignation of Sheriff Mike Carona in the wake of a published report and photos showing Carona in a cozy pose with a man identified as a mob associate.
Ralph Martin, a commander in the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department and an Orange County resident, is one of two current and one retired law enforcement officers running against Carona in the June 6 primary.
Martin said an article in the O.C. Weekly and accompanying photos show Carona smiling while the arm of Rick Rizzolo, a man the FBI has called a mob associate, is draped over Carona's shoulder. Carona is in uniform.
The article also contains photos of Carona with Freddie Glusman, owner of the Ritz restaurant in Newport Beach and Piero's in Las Vegas, and Gary Primm, owner of a Nevada casino. Both Glusman and Primm, according to the Weekly, are Carona contributors and were sworn in as departmental reserve deputies before they were cleared through background checks. Michael Schroeder, campaign advisor for Carona, could not be reached for immediate comment.
Martin said he saw the pictures Wednesday for the first time. "Rick Rizzolo is a known Mafia associate," Martin said. "He owns a strip club up in Vegas and he has a criminal background."
The picture, he said, was taken at the Ritz restaurant in Newport Beach, "during some ceremony. We know the sheriff is in uniform, and (it is) obviously a social gathering. They look to be pretty close here."
Pointing to another photo, Martin said Carona is "in the middle giving deputy reserve sheriff's badges to Glusman, who likes to associate with the Mafia especially at his (Newport Beach) restaurant and another one in Vegas."
Martin said Glusman likes to host a clientele that is known to law enforcement officers. "His places are hangouts for known mobsters," Martin said. Martin said he does not know of any criminal background for Primm. "I don't know if he has one," Martin said. "What I saw today was really over the top for Orange County's sheriff," Martin said of the photos. Organized crime agents, according to the Weekly, say the Rizzolo posed for the shot at the Ritz sometime between 2002-04.
Rizzolo, according to investigators, is tied to Chicago and New York organized crime families, and has been described by the Las Vegas Review Journal as a target of an ongoing corruption probe.
The Orange County Register reported in November that Carona accepted a contribution of $1,500 from Rizzolo, and Carona's media consultants acknowledged the men met two or three times.
Two weeks ago, according to the Weekly, Carona's spokesmen said they were "clueless" about Rizzolo's occupation and mob ties.
Glusman, according to the Weekly, flashed his sheriff's badge during a parking space dispute with a former officer, who reported it to police. Glusman resigned before an internal affairs investigation was completed, the Weekly reported.
Carona drew criticism for appointing political allies to reserve deputy positions in 1999 over the objections of the department's own background investigators. According to published reports, Carona appointed 86 allies, friends and relatives to the reserve program, before background checks were completed and days before the state stiffened training requirements. They were later removed from the state's peace officer database after it was determined the checks were incomplete, but the Sheriff's Department allowed the reservists to keep their badges and in some cases, department-issued guns.
Earlier this week, the Los Angeles Times reported that a handgun belonging to a reserve Orange County sheriff's deputy turned up at the mansion of the former video game executive accused of crashing a Ferrari in Malibu in February.
Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies confiscated the gun during a raid at the Bel-Air home of Bo Stefan Eriksson, who faces grand theft, embezzlement and driving under the influence charges related to the accident, and detectives were trying to determine how Eriksson came in possession of the weapon.
A sheriff's department spokesman told The Times that the .357 magnum Smith & Wesson was registered to Roger A. Davis, a Newport Beach businessman and deputy with the Orange County sheriff's professional services division.
Davis was issued a permit to carry a concealed weapon by the Orange County Sheriff's Department in August 2002 for protection, and detectives were still trying to sort out Davis' connection to Eriksson.
Sandi Gibbons, a spokeswoman for the Los Angeles County District Attorney's Office, said the gun was a key piece of evidence. Prosecutors have charged Eriksson with a weapons violation because, as a convicted felon, he is not allowed to possess a firearm.
Martin said the article and photos are "really more a reflection of the failed reserve program that (Carona) calls the professional services reserve program."
"These names have been around, but we've never realized at this point that they were sworn in," Martin said.
Martin said Carona, within the last six months, returned the $1,500 donation from Rizzolo. "If any of (Carona's) deputies were found to be associated with any criminals and internal affairs investigation would be launched and they would be disciplined and terminated," Martin said.
A candidate for Orange County sheriff called Thursday for the resignation of Sheriff Mike Carona in the wake of a published report and photos showing Carona in a cozy pose with a man identified as a mob associate.
Ralph Martin, a commander in the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department and an Orange County resident, is one of two current and one retired law enforcement officers running against Carona in the June 6 primary.
Martin said an article in the O.C. Weekly and accompanying photos show Carona smiling while the arm of Rick Rizzolo, a man the FBI has called a mob associate, is draped over Carona's shoulder. Carona is in uniform.
The article also contains photos of Carona with Freddie Glusman, owner of the Ritz restaurant in Newport Beach and Piero's in Las Vegas, and Gary Primm, owner of a Nevada casino. Both Glusman and Primm, according to the Weekly, are Carona contributors and were sworn in as departmental reserve deputies before they were cleared through background checks. Michael Schroeder, campaign advisor for Carona, could not be reached for immediate comment.
Martin said he saw the pictures Wednesday for the first time. "Rick Rizzolo is a known Mafia associate," Martin said. "He owns a strip club up in Vegas and he has a criminal background."
The picture, he said, was taken at the Ritz restaurant in Newport Beach, "during some ceremony. We know the sheriff is in uniform, and (it is) obviously a social gathering. They look to be pretty close here."
Pointing to another photo, Martin said Carona is "in the middle giving deputy reserve sheriff's badges to Glusman, who likes to associate with the Mafia especially at his (Newport Beach) restaurant and another one in Vegas."
Martin said Glusman likes to host a clientele that is known to law enforcement officers. "His places are hangouts for known mobsters," Martin said. Martin said he does not know of any criminal background for Primm. "I don't know if he has one," Martin said. "What I saw today was really over the top for Orange County's sheriff," Martin said of the photos. Organized crime agents, according to the Weekly, say the Rizzolo posed for the shot at the Ritz sometime between 2002-04.
Rizzolo, according to investigators, is tied to Chicago and New York organized crime families, and has been described by the Las Vegas Review Journal as a target of an ongoing corruption probe.
The Orange County Register reported in November that Carona accepted a contribution of $1,500 from Rizzolo, and Carona's media consultants acknowledged the men met two or three times.
Two weeks ago, according to the Weekly, Carona's spokesmen said they were "clueless" about Rizzolo's occupation and mob ties.
Glusman, according to the Weekly, flashed his sheriff's badge during a parking space dispute with a former officer, who reported it to police. Glusman resigned before an internal affairs investigation was completed, the Weekly reported.
Carona drew criticism for appointing political allies to reserve deputy positions in 1999 over the objections of the department's own background investigators. According to published reports, Carona appointed 86 allies, friends and relatives to the reserve program, before background checks were completed and days before the state stiffened training requirements. They were later removed from the state's peace officer database after it was determined the checks were incomplete, but the Sheriff's Department allowed the reservists to keep their badges and in some cases, department-issued guns.
Earlier this week, the Los Angeles Times reported that a handgun belonging to a reserve Orange County sheriff's deputy turned up at the mansion of the former video game executive accused of crashing a Ferrari in Malibu in February.
Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies confiscated the gun during a raid at the Bel-Air home of Bo Stefan Eriksson, who faces grand theft, embezzlement and driving under the influence charges related to the accident, and detectives were trying to determine how Eriksson came in possession of the weapon.
A sheriff's department spokesman told The Times that the .357 magnum Smith & Wesson was registered to Roger A. Davis, a Newport Beach businessman and deputy with the Orange County sheriff's professional services division.
Davis was issued a permit to carry a concealed weapon by the Orange County Sheriff's Department in August 2002 for protection, and detectives were still trying to sort out Davis' connection to Eriksson.
Sandi Gibbons, a spokeswoman for the Los Angeles County District Attorney's Office, said the gun was a key piece of evidence. Prosecutors have charged Eriksson with a weapons violation because, as a convicted felon, he is not allowed to possess a firearm.
Martin said the article and photos are "really more a reflection of the failed reserve program that (Carona) calls the professional services reserve program."
"These names have been around, but we've never realized at this point that they were sworn in," Martin said.
Martin said Carona, within the last six months, returned the $1,500 donation from Rizzolo. "If any of (Carona's) deputies were found to be associated with any criminals and internal affairs investigation would be launched and they would be disciplined and terminated," Martin said.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Witness Protection Program Places High-Profile Mob Informant on Kansas City Royals
Friends of ours: Junior Gotti, John Gotti
The Kansas City Royals added a new rightfielder yesterday – a 5-foot-8, 275 pound, 53-year old mob informant the federal witness protection placed with the team as a means to keep him out of public view.
Listed on the roster as "Jim Smith," the new Royal is reportedly Vinnie Macaluso, a construction foreman and Mafioso from New Jersey who is preparing to testify for the government in the trial of John A. Gotti, the son of late mob boss John Gotti.
No one from the Federal Witness Protection program would comment on record about "Smith," but an anonymous source within the department confirmed Macaluso was placed with the Royals. "We couldn't think of a place where a person is more likely to go unnoticed than with the Kansas City Royals," said the source. "By playing with them we can be assured no one will ever find him because his face will never be on television and because almost no one attends their games."
"Smith" reportedly has never played baseball in his life, something the Witness Protection program thinks works to their advantage. "Since he'll probably be striking out all the time and dropping fly balls and falling down and stuff, he'll fit in perfectly with the Royals and won't raise flags with anyone," said the source. "We heard he could actually play a little bit of football, so that's why we didn't place him with the Arizona Cardinals."
Thanks to the Sports Pickle
The Kansas City Royals added a new rightfielder yesterday – a 5-foot-8, 275 pound, 53-year old mob informant the federal witness protection placed with the team as a means to keep him out of public view.
Listed on the roster as "Jim Smith," the new Royal is reportedly Vinnie Macaluso, a construction foreman and Mafioso from New Jersey who is preparing to testify for the government in the trial of John A. Gotti, the son of late mob boss John Gotti.
No one from the Federal Witness Protection program would comment on record about "Smith," but an anonymous source within the department confirmed Macaluso was placed with the Royals. "We couldn't think of a place where a person is more likely to go unnoticed than with the Kansas City Royals," said the source. "By playing with them we can be assured no one will ever find him because his face will never be on television and because almost no one attends their games."
"Smith" reportedly has never played baseball in his life, something the Witness Protection program thinks works to their advantage. "Since he'll probably be striking out all the time and dropping fly balls and falling down and stuff, he'll fit in perfectly with the Royals and won't raise flags with anyone," said the source. "We heard he could actually play a little bit of football, so that's why we didn't place him with the Arizona Cardinals."
Thanks to the Sports Pickle
Friday, April 28, 2006
Now on DVD: In the Mix
Singer Usher stars in this romantic comedy as a nightclub DJ who saves the life of a mob boss (Chazz Palminteri), then finds trouble when he falls for the don's daughter. The DVD has deleted scenes and a making-of featurette.
It's Splitsville!
Friends of ours: John "Dapper Don" Gotti
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Caracappa
Mafia cop Louis Eppolito and his mouthpiece Bruce Cutler are calling it quits. Less than a week after the convicted hit man for the mob complained to the Daily News that his lawyers "abandoned" him and former NYPD partner Stephen Caracappa at their trial, his defense lawyers had a message of their own.
"Counsel agree that Mr. Eppolito should have new counsel represent him," Cutler's co-counsel Bettina Schein informed the judge in a letter filed late Friday. "We respectfully request Mr. Eppolito be afforded sufficient time to find new counsel."
What amounted to a legal divorce filing came just days after an exclusive Daily News interview in which Eppolito blasted the colorful Cutler — best known as the lawyer for the late mob boss John (Dapper Don) Gotti.
"We were abandoned by the lawyers," Eppolito told The News. "They put up no defense for our lives. I believe you have to fight."
The legal bickering also came less than three weeks after Eppolito and Caracappa were convicted by a Brooklyn federal jury of eight gangland murders — including two killings they personally carried out for the Luchese crime family while they were NYPD detectives.
The duo faces life in prison without the possibility of parole when sentenced in one of the most notorious cases of police corruption in NYPD history.
Federal Judge Jack Weinstein ordered a hearing for today on Eppolito's comments — made to The News in a phone interview from the Metropolitan Detention Center, where he is being held in solitary confinement.
"I wanted to take the stand. I begged them," Eppolito, 57, told The News. "I said, 'Put me up there. This is my life I'm fighting for.'"
Eppolito's family members stepped up the blame in letters to the judge made public last week. "Lou and Steve had two very able attorneys that did not put on a defense," wrote Eppolito's sister Paula Guarneri. "There is so much the jury did not hear in their defense."
Cutler generated a lot of noise in court with his theatrics, but not much else, jurors told The News after the April 6 verdict. Schein mostly handled the legal paperwork.
The search for a new lawyer will likely delay sentencing currently scheduled for May 22. Eppolito's new lawyer must review the entire case and prepare a motion to set aside the verdict.
Caracappa, 64, has not publicly stated any opinion about his lawyer, Edward Hayes. "I think I'll stay with him until the sentencing," Hayes said. "I think he needs a fresh view for the appeal, but I will assist him in any way I can."
Thanks to John Marzulli
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Caracappa
Mafia cop Louis Eppolito and his mouthpiece Bruce Cutler are calling it quits. Less than a week after the convicted hit man for the mob complained to the Daily News that his lawyers "abandoned" him and former NYPD partner Stephen Caracappa at their trial, his defense lawyers had a message of their own.
"Counsel agree that Mr. Eppolito should have new counsel represent him," Cutler's co-counsel Bettina Schein informed the judge in a letter filed late Friday. "We respectfully request Mr. Eppolito be afforded sufficient time to find new counsel."
What amounted to a legal divorce filing came just days after an exclusive Daily News interview in which Eppolito blasted the colorful Cutler — best known as the lawyer for the late mob boss John (Dapper Don) Gotti.
"We were abandoned by the lawyers," Eppolito told The News. "They put up no defense for our lives. I believe you have to fight."
The legal bickering also came less than three weeks after Eppolito and Caracappa were convicted by a Brooklyn federal jury of eight gangland murders — including two killings they personally carried out for the Luchese crime family while they were NYPD detectives.
The duo faces life in prison without the possibility of parole when sentenced in one of the most notorious cases of police corruption in NYPD history.
Federal Judge Jack Weinstein ordered a hearing for today on Eppolito's comments — made to The News in a phone interview from the Metropolitan Detention Center, where he is being held in solitary confinement.
"I wanted to take the stand. I begged them," Eppolito, 57, told The News. "I said, 'Put me up there. This is my life I'm fighting for.'"
Eppolito's family members stepped up the blame in letters to the judge made public last week. "Lou and Steve had two very able attorneys that did not put on a defense," wrote Eppolito's sister Paula Guarneri. "There is so much the jury did not hear in their defense."
Cutler generated a lot of noise in court with his theatrics, but not much else, jurors told The News after the April 6 verdict. Schein mostly handled the legal paperwork.
The search for a new lawyer will likely delay sentencing currently scheduled for May 22. Eppolito's new lawyer must review the entire case and prepare a motion to set aside the verdict.
Caracappa, 64, has not publicly stated any opinion about his lawyer, Edward Hayes. "I think I'll stay with him until the sentencing," Hayes said. "I think he needs a fresh view for the appeal, but I will assist him in any way I can."
Thanks to John Marzulli
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Overheard: Longshoreman's Union
Homeland Security announced Tuesday all U.S. port workers will have to undergo background checks to look for any security threats. This administration doesn't know the Longshoreman's Union. There are no more patriotic Americans than the Mafia.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Mob Cop's Daughter Begs Judge: Free Dad
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Caracappa
Daddy's dearest is coming to the rescue again.
The daughter of convicted Mafia cop Louis Eppolito has fired off an emotional letter to Brooklyn Federal Judge Jack Weinstein, attacking the government's case, dissing her father's lawyers and begging the judge to set aside his conviction. In short, the dark-haired beauty launched the kind of defense her father claims he didn't get at his trial.
"There were so many things that I thought would have come out in trial, so many pieces of information and evidence that would have shown reasonable doubt and let the jury know that my father and Steve Caracappa are innocent," Andrea Eppolito said in a four-page missive made public yesterday.
"I don't know why the lawyers didn't do certain things, ask certain questions, or take a more aggressive defense. Your Honor, please do not punish my father and our family for those mistakes," she added.
A year ago today, Eppolito made front-page news when she unexpectedly waltzed in front of a bevy of microphones and delivered an impassioned defense of her father after a routine courthouse appearance.
This time around, Eppolito, a 29-year-old marketing specialist from Las Vegas, wrote Weinstein she was appealing to him "on behalf of my father, my family, and in the name of justice."
She implored the judge to set aside the April 6 verdict in which her dad and Caracappa, his former NYPD partner, were convicted of being linked to eight mob murders.
The disgraced ex-detective also ripped defense lawyers Bruce Cutler and Bettina Schein for not allowing him to testify and not aggressively defending him. Weinstein will hold a hearing Monday to determine whether Eppolito needs new counsel.
In her missive, Andrea says her dad's 1992 biography, "Mafia Cop," in which Eppolito admits his father, uncle and cousin were in the Mafia, revealed a family history that was largely kept secret from her as a child.
"My father walked away from a life of crime that was filled with easy money, easy hours, lies, deceit, coercion, murder and many other degrading acts, to wake up early, put on a uniform or suit and carry a badge.
"Please do not condemn him, do not force him to pay for the sins of his father and the family that came before him."
Thanks to John Marzulli
Daddy's dearest is coming to the rescue again.
The daughter of convicted Mafia cop Louis Eppolito has fired off an emotional letter to Brooklyn Federal Judge Jack Weinstein, attacking the government's case, dissing her father's lawyers and begging the judge to set aside his conviction. In short, the dark-haired beauty launched the kind of defense her father claims he didn't get at his trial.
"There were so many things that I thought would have come out in trial, so many pieces of information and evidence that would have shown reasonable doubt and let the jury know that my father and Steve Caracappa are innocent," Andrea Eppolito said in a four-page missive made public yesterday.
"I don't know why the lawyers didn't do certain things, ask certain questions, or take a more aggressive defense. Your Honor, please do not punish my father and our family for those mistakes," she added.
A year ago today, Eppolito made front-page news when she unexpectedly waltzed in front of a bevy of microphones and delivered an impassioned defense of her father after a routine courthouse appearance.
This time around, Eppolito, a 29-year-old marketing specialist from Las Vegas, wrote Weinstein she was appealing to him "on behalf of my father, my family, and in the name of justice."
She implored the judge to set aside the April 6 verdict in which her dad and Caracappa, his former NYPD partner, were convicted of being linked to eight mob murders.
The disgraced ex-detective also ripped defense lawyers Bruce Cutler and Bettina Schein for not allowing him to testify and not aggressively defending him. Weinstein will hold a hearing Monday to determine whether Eppolito needs new counsel.
In her missive, Andrea says her dad's 1992 biography, "Mafia Cop," in which Eppolito admits his father, uncle and cousin were in the Mafia, revealed a family history that was largely kept secret from her as a child.
"My father walked away from a life of crime that was filled with easy money, easy hours, lies, deceit, coercion, murder and many other degrading acts, to wake up early, put on a uniform or suit and carry a badge.
"Please do not condemn him, do not force him to pay for the sins of his father and the family that came before him."
Thanks to John Marzulli
Four-Year Gotti Offer
Friends of ours: Junior Gotti, John Gotti, Gambino Crime Family
The feds have made John "Junior" Gotti an offer he likely can't refuse.
Gotti is secretly weighing whether to accept a new plea deal that would put him behind bars for less than four years in exchange for pleading guilty to racketeering charges, two sources familiar with the negotiations told The Post.
While Gotti, 42, has yet to sign off on the deal, he is seriously considering it and could plead guilty as soon as next week, one of the sources said.
The offer includes a five-year prison sentence that would likely be whittled down to 31/2 years behind bars with credit for time he's already served - roughly one-tenth of the 30-year sentence he could face if a jury convicts him.
The new terms mirror those sought by Gotti last November, but prosecutors then refused to go below a 10-year sentence. The feds sweetened the deal after a jury failed to reach a verdict in his case last month - Gotti's second mistrial. A third trial is scheduled to begin July 5.
The son of John "Dapper Don" Gotti would also have to fork over $500,000 in cash under the proposed deal - a measly sum compared to the $25 million in forfeitures now hanging over his head.
Once released, the father of five would be forced to move from his Oyster Bay, L.I., home. The terms of the deal bar him from living in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut or Massachusetts, a source said.
Gotti's lawyer, Charles Carnesi, declined to comment on the negotiations. A call to prosecutors was not returned.
Gotti has admitted he once ran the Gambino crime family for his father, but claims he left the mob in 1999.
To accept the deal, Gotti would have to admit to more recent racketeering charges, including loan-sharking and extortion, and the sensational 1992 kidnapping of radio host Curtis Sliwa. Sliwa was shot in a stolen taxi allegedly piloted by a Gambino thug, but managed to escape by climbing out the window.
The new offer, with its five-year prison term, is a fraction of any previous deal put on the table. Prior his first trial, in the summer of 2005, Gotti rejected an offer that would have forced him to serve 18 years behind bars.
When a jury failed to reach a verdict, Gotti's then-lawyer, Jeffrey Lichtman, negotiated a 10-year sentence and $1 million in forfeitures, but Gotti had a change of heart and rejected the offer. The gamble paid off when a second jury failed to reach a verdict in March - it was reported split 8-4 in favor of acquittal.
The mob scion has long been a suspect in three murders - a double hit in 1992 on Thomas and Rosemary Uva, who were known for robbing mob-connected social clubs, as well as the slaying of Danny Silva in a 1983 barroom brawl.
The new offer does not protect him from prosecution in those cases should the feds develop new evidence.
Thanks to Kati Cornell
The feds have made John "Junior" Gotti an offer he likely can't refuse.
Gotti is secretly weighing whether to accept a new plea deal that would put him behind bars for less than four years in exchange for pleading guilty to racketeering charges, two sources familiar with the negotiations told The Post.
While Gotti, 42, has yet to sign off on the deal, he is seriously considering it and could plead guilty as soon as next week, one of the sources said.
The offer includes a five-year prison sentence that would likely be whittled down to 31/2 years behind bars with credit for time he's already served - roughly one-tenth of the 30-year sentence he could face if a jury convicts him.
The new terms mirror those sought by Gotti last November, but prosecutors then refused to go below a 10-year sentence. The feds sweetened the deal after a jury failed to reach a verdict in his case last month - Gotti's second mistrial. A third trial is scheduled to begin July 5.
The son of John "Dapper Don" Gotti would also have to fork over $500,000 in cash under the proposed deal - a measly sum compared to the $25 million in forfeitures now hanging over his head.
Once released, the father of five would be forced to move from his Oyster Bay, L.I., home. The terms of the deal bar him from living in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut or Massachusetts, a source said.
Gotti's lawyer, Charles Carnesi, declined to comment on the negotiations. A call to prosecutors was not returned.
Gotti has admitted he once ran the Gambino crime family for his father, but claims he left the mob in 1999.
To accept the deal, Gotti would have to admit to more recent racketeering charges, including loan-sharking and extortion, and the sensational 1992 kidnapping of radio host Curtis Sliwa. Sliwa was shot in a stolen taxi allegedly piloted by a Gambino thug, but managed to escape by climbing out the window.
The new offer, with its five-year prison term, is a fraction of any previous deal put on the table. Prior his first trial, in the summer of 2005, Gotti rejected an offer that would have forced him to serve 18 years behind bars.
When a jury failed to reach a verdict, Gotti's then-lawyer, Jeffrey Lichtman, negotiated a 10-year sentence and $1 million in forfeitures, but Gotti had a change of heart and rejected the offer. The gamble paid off when a second jury failed to reach a verdict in March - it was reported split 8-4 in favor of acquittal.
The mob scion has long been a suspect in three murders - a double hit in 1992 on Thomas and Rosemary Uva, who were known for robbing mob-connected social clubs, as well as the slaying of Danny Silva in a 1983 barroom brawl.
The new offer does not protect him from prosecution in those cases should the feds develop new evidence.
Thanks to Kati Cornell
Gambino Boss Heading to Jail
NINE YEARS FOR GEEZER GODFATHER
Friend of ours: Gambino Crime Family, Arnold "Zeke" Squitieri, Peter Gotti, John Gotti, Gregory DePalma
Reputed Gambino head Arnold "Zeke" Squitieri copped a plea to racketeering charges stemming from a daring three-year probe by an undercover FBI agent who infiltrated the crime family's ranks and brought down its leadership.
Squitieri, 70, confessed to racketeering and three shakedown schemes in a plea deal with the feds that will likely land him behind bars for nine years - roughly half the time he would have faced had he taken his chances with a jury. But the aging mafioso, who appeared in Manhattan Federal Court clad in tan prison garb that exposed a tattooed arm, made it clear he wasn't pleading guilty to save himself.
After admitting his misdeeds yesterday, Squitieri turned to coldly point at his wife, Marie, in the spectator seats.
"I did it for you. I pleaded guilty because of you," Squitieri said, prompting his wife to well up with tears and rush from the courtroom.
Also looking on were three of Squitieri's daughters, including raven-haired attorney Ginger Squitieri, who sat next to her father as a member of his defense team and greeted him with a kiss.
The feds claim Squitieri took the reins as Gambino acting boss when reputed boss Peter Gotti was arrested in 2002 - the first generation of Gambino bosses in the post-John Gotti era.
Under the deal hammered out with Assistant U.S. Attorney Christopher Conniff, Squitieri confessed to racketeering and raking in cash through shakedown schemes targeting two construction companies, in Mineola, L.I., and Westchester, and a New Jersey trucking company.
"I know it was wrong," Squitieri said. But the reputed mob leader - identified by the feds as an acting boss - kept his lips zipped when asked to acknowledge his role in the Gambino crime family.
"Mr. Squitieri makes no concession with respect to the name of the enterprise," defense lawyer Gerald Shargel told Magistrate Judge Michael Dolinger.
"With the Gambino name out of it? Guilty," said Squitieri, who must also forfeit $100,000 in cash.
The gravelly-voiced wiseguy joked with the judge when asked to identify the time frame of his crimes. "I can't remember too good, your honor. I'm getting up in age," Squitieri said, estimating that the extortions occurred between 1999 and 2005.
The feds have pegged Squitieri as official underboss and acting boss of the crime family, but some members of his ranks viewed him as holding the ultimate power, according to tapes of secretly recorded conversations.
On Nov. 5, 2004, steely-nerved undercover FBI agent "Jack Falcone" asked reputed capo Gregory DePalma if Squitieri was acting boss, to which the high-ranking mobster replied, "No, he's the boss. The boss is the boss," law-enforcement sources said.
In that same momentous conversation, DePalma told the 6-foot-4, 300-pound-plus Falcone he wanted to propose him as a "made" member of the crime family - not knowing he was an undercover agent.
The probe came to an abrupt end soon after this exchange in order to protect the burly agent, who was later targeted in a $250,000 murder contract foiled by the feds in August 2005 and first reported by The Post.
Squitieri was one of 32 reputed mobsters rounded up in March 2005 as the result of the daring undercover investigation, and all but two have pleaded guilty.
Thanks to Kati Cornell and Murray Weis
Friend of ours: Gambino Crime Family, Arnold "Zeke" Squitieri, Peter Gotti, John Gotti, Gregory DePalma
Reputed Gambino head Arnold "Zeke" Squitieri copped a plea to racketeering charges stemming from a daring three-year probe by an undercover FBI agent who infiltrated the crime family's ranks and brought down its leadership.
Squitieri, 70, confessed to racketeering and three shakedown schemes in a plea deal with the feds that will likely land him behind bars for nine years - roughly half the time he would have faced had he taken his chances with a jury. But the aging mafioso, who appeared in Manhattan Federal Court clad in tan prison garb that exposed a tattooed arm, made it clear he wasn't pleading guilty to save himself.
After admitting his misdeeds yesterday, Squitieri turned to coldly point at his wife, Marie, in the spectator seats.
"I did it for you. I pleaded guilty because of you," Squitieri said, prompting his wife to well up with tears and rush from the courtroom.
Also looking on were three of Squitieri's daughters, including raven-haired attorney Ginger Squitieri, who sat next to her father as a member of his defense team and greeted him with a kiss.
The feds claim Squitieri took the reins as Gambino acting boss when reputed boss Peter Gotti was arrested in 2002 - the first generation of Gambino bosses in the post-John Gotti era.
Under the deal hammered out with Assistant U.S. Attorney Christopher Conniff, Squitieri confessed to racketeering and raking in cash through shakedown schemes targeting two construction companies, in Mineola, L.I., and Westchester, and a New Jersey trucking company.
"I know it was wrong," Squitieri said. But the reputed mob leader - identified by the feds as an acting boss - kept his lips zipped when asked to acknowledge his role in the Gambino crime family.
"Mr. Squitieri makes no concession with respect to the name of the enterprise," defense lawyer Gerald Shargel told Magistrate Judge Michael Dolinger.
"With the Gambino name out of it? Guilty," said Squitieri, who must also forfeit $100,000 in cash.
The gravelly-voiced wiseguy joked with the judge when asked to identify the time frame of his crimes. "I can't remember too good, your honor. I'm getting up in age," Squitieri said, estimating that the extortions occurred between 1999 and 2005.
The feds have pegged Squitieri as official underboss and acting boss of the crime family, but some members of his ranks viewed him as holding the ultimate power, according to tapes of secretly recorded conversations.
On Nov. 5, 2004, steely-nerved undercover FBI agent "Jack Falcone" asked reputed capo Gregory DePalma if Squitieri was acting boss, to which the high-ranking mobster replied, "No, he's the boss. The boss is the boss," law-enforcement sources said.
In that same momentous conversation, DePalma told the 6-foot-4, 300-pound-plus Falcone he wanted to propose him as a "made" member of the crime family - not knowing he was an undercover agent.
The probe came to an abrupt end soon after this exchange in order to protect the burly agent, who was later targeted in a $250,000 murder contract foiled by the feds in August 2005 and first reported by The Post.
Squitieri was one of 32 reputed mobsters rounded up in March 2005 as the result of the daring undercover investigation, and all but two have pleaded guilty.
Thanks to Kati Cornell and Murray Weis
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
What's Your Mob Nickname?
Someone has designed a Mafia Name Generator for those who are interested in trying it out.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Mafia Cop's Bizarre Nondefense
Friends of ours: John Gotti
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Caracappa
Finally, Louie Eppolito offers a defense. His defense is that he had no defense.
The Mafia cop, in a jailhouse interview with my colleague Greg B. Smith in yesterday's Daily News, claimed that his defense team in his recent trial at which he was convicted of eight-mob related murders was poor.
Eppolito wasn't the only one surprised by the unfocused defense offered by Bruce Cutler and Eddie Hayes, two high-profile lawyers. In fact, Eppolito's first mistake probably was hiring Cutler. If you're trying to convince a jury that you're not mobbed up, why would you hire John Gotti's mouthpiece, the most high-profile mob lawyer in New York?
Almost everyone who attended the trial on a regular basis was surprised by the defense, which often rambled, got lost in name-calling and histrionics, and looked flatfooted in cross-examinations.
By contrast, Burton Kaplan was the best prosecution witness many court observers ever saw. His spellbinding testimony was like listening to an Elmore Leonard novel on tape. He was the quintessential shady Brooklyn character, an ingenious street kid who seemed to consciously have chosen "Crime" as a life plan on Career Day at Manual Training High.
Here was a complex man who says he loves his wife of 49 years, although he took a lover while on the lam. A man who adores his daughter - who became a Criminal Court judge - but a father who at middle age crossed the line to commit a murder that left two other daughters without a father. A family man who helped cause funerals in seven other families. And yet the defense was never able to paint this grab bag of contradictions as a liar.
The government started with a clear and lucid opening by Assistant U.S. Attorney Mitra Hormozi, who led the jury through a nightmarish narrative of two cops who betrayed their badges for money in a sociopathic spree of kidnapping, bribery and murder. No $50 words, no table thumping, no bellowing. Just a well-prepared lawyer telling a compelling, true-crime story in prose as sparse and direct as James M. Cain's in "The Postman Always Rings Twice."
The great Samuel Goldwyn, who founded MGM studios, once said that he could tell if a movie was working by whether or not his butt squirmed. Not one juror squirmed during Hormozi's opening.
Then, lead U.S. prosecutor Robert Henoch, a lieutenant colonel in the Army Reserves who had served in the Middle East, started calling witnesses to support Hormozi's harrowing tale. Henoch led Kaplan through his direct testimony, which was filled with precise, damning details like knowing where former Eppolito partner Stephen Caracappa's mother lived on Staten Island. Or that Caracappa had a black cat in an apartment in a "thin" building on 22nd St. in Manhattan. Or that he met with Eppolito at a "lady friend's" apartment in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. Each detail became another brick in a prison wall.
Neither cop took the stand to counter Kaplan's testimony. Eppolito now claims that his lawyers forbade him from testifying. Excuse me, the client is the boss. But the two Mafia cops did worse than not testifying. Through the entire trial Eppolito and Caracappa sat stoically, showing zero emotion as their freedom was chipped away piece by icy piece by 40 prosecution witnesses. Noted anthropologist and linguist Ray Birdwhistell says the human face is capable of some 250,000 facial expressions. During the three-week trial, Eppolito and Caracappa each chose one expression - blank. Which made them look like the cold-blooded killers the prosecution claimed they were.
Weird.
If I were a wrongly accused man fighting for my life, and my lawyers convinced me taking the stand would be counterproductive, I would at least use my face to emote and register outrage, horror, astonishment, disbelief, incredulity, shock, pity, sadness, rage and disappointment to the 12 very human jurors sitting in the box, who gazed constantly at the defendants for reaction to the terrible things being said about them. Only to see two blocks of ice.
If Burton Kaplan was falsely connecting me to eight Mafia murders, the U.S. Marshals would need to bind and gag me to keep me still and silent. If Eppolito was being framed, as he now claims from a jail cell, why didn't he leap from his seat in the courtroom and scream, "Liar!" Why not plant at least a single seed of doubt in the mind of even one juror by reacting like an innocent man framed?
What was the risk? A few days held in contempt while you're facing life in a cage? Instead, Eppolito waited until the jury said, "Guilty" 70 times, after which he embraced and backslapped Cutler, before claiming he doesn't know what the defense was thinking.
During the trial, many on the jury were probably wondering the same of poker-faced Eppolito.
Thanks to Denis Hamill
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Caracappa
Finally, Louie Eppolito offers a defense. His defense is that he had no defense.
The Mafia cop, in a jailhouse interview with my colleague Greg B. Smith in yesterday's Daily News, claimed that his defense team in his recent trial at which he was convicted of eight-mob related murders was poor.
Eppolito wasn't the only one surprised by the unfocused defense offered by Bruce Cutler and Eddie Hayes, two high-profile lawyers. In fact, Eppolito's first mistake probably was hiring Cutler. If you're trying to convince a jury that you're not mobbed up, why would you hire John Gotti's mouthpiece, the most high-profile mob lawyer in New York?
Almost everyone who attended the trial on a regular basis was surprised by the defense, which often rambled, got lost in name-calling and histrionics, and looked flatfooted in cross-examinations.
By contrast, Burton Kaplan was the best prosecution witness many court observers ever saw. His spellbinding testimony was like listening to an Elmore Leonard novel on tape. He was the quintessential shady Brooklyn character, an ingenious street kid who seemed to consciously have chosen "Crime" as a life plan on Career Day at Manual Training High.
Here was a complex man who says he loves his wife of 49 years, although he took a lover while on the lam. A man who adores his daughter - who became a Criminal Court judge - but a father who at middle age crossed the line to commit a murder that left two other daughters without a father. A family man who helped cause funerals in seven other families. And yet the defense was never able to paint this grab bag of contradictions as a liar.
The government started with a clear and lucid opening by Assistant U.S. Attorney Mitra Hormozi, who led the jury through a nightmarish narrative of two cops who betrayed their badges for money in a sociopathic spree of kidnapping, bribery and murder. No $50 words, no table thumping, no bellowing. Just a well-prepared lawyer telling a compelling, true-crime story in prose as sparse and direct as James M. Cain's in "The Postman Always Rings Twice."
The great Samuel Goldwyn, who founded MGM studios, once said that he could tell if a movie was working by whether or not his butt squirmed. Not one juror squirmed during Hormozi's opening.
Then, lead U.S. prosecutor Robert Henoch, a lieutenant colonel in the Army Reserves who had served in the Middle East, started calling witnesses to support Hormozi's harrowing tale. Henoch led Kaplan through his direct testimony, which was filled with precise, damning details like knowing where former Eppolito partner Stephen Caracappa's mother lived on Staten Island. Or that Caracappa had a black cat in an apartment in a "thin" building on 22nd St. in Manhattan. Or that he met with Eppolito at a "lady friend's" apartment in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. Each detail became another brick in a prison wall.
Neither cop took the stand to counter Kaplan's testimony. Eppolito now claims that his lawyers forbade him from testifying. Excuse me, the client is the boss. But the two Mafia cops did worse than not testifying. Through the entire trial Eppolito and Caracappa sat stoically, showing zero emotion as their freedom was chipped away piece by icy piece by 40 prosecution witnesses. Noted anthropologist and linguist Ray Birdwhistell says the human face is capable of some 250,000 facial expressions. During the three-week trial, Eppolito and Caracappa each chose one expression - blank. Which made them look like the cold-blooded killers the prosecution claimed they were.
Weird.
If I were a wrongly accused man fighting for my life, and my lawyers convinced me taking the stand would be counterproductive, I would at least use my face to emote and register outrage, horror, astonishment, disbelief, incredulity, shock, pity, sadness, rage and disappointment to the 12 very human jurors sitting in the box, who gazed constantly at the defendants for reaction to the terrible things being said about them. Only to see two blocks of ice.
If Burton Kaplan was falsely connecting me to eight Mafia murders, the U.S. Marshals would need to bind and gag me to keep me still and silent. If Eppolito was being framed, as he now claims from a jail cell, why didn't he leap from his seat in the courtroom and scream, "Liar!" Why not plant at least a single seed of doubt in the mind of even one juror by reacting like an innocent man framed?
What was the risk? A few days held in contempt while you're facing life in a cage? Instead, Eppolito waited until the jury said, "Guilty" 70 times, after which he embraced and backslapped Cutler, before claiming he doesn't know what the defense was thinking.
During the trial, many on the jury were probably wondering the same of poker-faced Eppolito.
Thanks to Denis Hamill
Monday, April 17, 2006
After Conviction 'Mafia cop' Insists: 'It Was a Perfect Frame'
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Caracappa
In his first interview since being convicted of racketeering conspiracy, so-called "Mafia cop" Louis Eppolito maintained his innocence, insisting that he was the victim of "a perfect frame."
"I was the most perfect scapegoat in history. Nobody was better than I was," Eppolito told the Daily News for Monday editions.
Days after being convicted alongside former NYPD partner Stephen Caracappa for doubling as hit men for the mob, Eppolito claimed he was targeted in part because he had been accused in 1984 of leaking secrets to the Mafia. He was later cleared of those initial charges. "It left a stigma that I was connected to the mob," he told the newspaper by telephone on Friday.
The former detective said he had thought about facing the family members of victims. "I'm going to have to stand there and have people look at me and say, 'You killed my father, you killed my son,"' Eppolito said. "I didn't kill anybody. ... What am I supposed to do? They'll say you don't have remorse."
Both men were convicted April 6 of participating in eight brutal killings while on the monthly payroll of a murderous Mafia underboss. They were also found guilty of kidnapping, witness tampering and bribery _ and of providing inside law enforcement information to the mob.
Neither man took the stand during the trial, though Eppolito told the Daily News that he "begged" his lawyers to let him take the stand.
The 57-year-old said his predicament could be blamed on his 1992 book, "Mafia Cop," which key witness Burton Kaplan said from the stand was "the reason for all our troubles."
"I've thought about it a million times," Eppolito admitted. "I would not have been arrested if I hadn't written the book."
"Still," he said, "there are no regrets. Not a one."
In his first interview since being convicted of racketeering conspiracy, so-called "Mafia cop" Louis Eppolito maintained his innocence, insisting that he was the victim of "a perfect frame."
"I was the most perfect scapegoat in history. Nobody was better than I was," Eppolito told the Daily News for Monday editions.
Days after being convicted alongside former NYPD partner Stephen Caracappa for doubling as hit men for the mob, Eppolito claimed he was targeted in part because he had been accused in 1984 of leaking secrets to the Mafia. He was later cleared of those initial charges. "It left a stigma that I was connected to the mob," he told the newspaper by telephone on Friday.
The former detective said he had thought about facing the family members of victims. "I'm going to have to stand there and have people look at me and say, 'You killed my father, you killed my son,"' Eppolito said. "I didn't kill anybody. ... What am I supposed to do? They'll say you don't have remorse."
Both men were convicted April 6 of participating in eight brutal killings while on the monthly payroll of a murderous Mafia underboss. They were also found guilty of kidnapping, witness tampering and bribery _ and of providing inside law enforcement information to the mob.
Neither man took the stand during the trial, though Eppolito told the Daily News that he "begged" his lawyers to let him take the stand.
The 57-year-old said his predicament could be blamed on his 1992 book, "Mafia Cop," which key witness Burton Kaplan said from the stand was "the reason for all our troubles."
"I've thought about it a million times," Eppolito admitted. "I would not have been arrested if I hadn't written the book."
"Still," he said, "there are no regrets. Not a one."
Mafia Cop Raped Me, Gal Says
Drug Bust Wife's Shocking Claim
Friends of mine: Stephen Caracappa, Louis Eppolito
Mob cop Stephen Caracappa was not only a murderous Mafia mole when he wore an NYPD badge - he also was a rapist, according to a bombshell charge.
"That man reminded me of the devil - he was Satan," alleged victim Diane Frisco said about the dirty ex-detective, who she first met in the late 1970s while Caracappa was an undercover narcotics cop putting together a case against her and her husband, Richard Warme.
Frisco and Warme were once eyed as potential character witnesses for the feds in their case against Caracappa and disgraced former partner Louis Eppolito, who were convicted on murder raps earlier this month.
While being questioned on the Caracappa drug connection, Frisco told investigators that he had lured her into a Bronx motel room in 1978 and raped her. Her husband was in prison at the time awaiting trial after the then-cop busted him for facilitating a drug deal.
Warme said her ordeal began after then-cop Caracappa, whom she had only known as "Frankie Black" - his undercover persona - came to her house off the Throgs Neck Expressway and explained, "You know I can help your husband when it comes time for trial."
"Remember, I'm holding all the aces, kid," Caracappa allegedly told Frisco, now 58, who was charged along with her husband and was out on bail at the time. She was later acquitted at trial.
A few days later, Caracappa drove her to the Town and Country Motel on Conner Street, now a women's shelter, and led her into a first-floor room. "He put me on the bed and took off my pants," Frisco told The Post. "I was frozen - crying and frozen," she said, describing how Caracappa undressed and looked like "a skinny gorilla."
She never reported the loathsome tryst because the detective told her, "If you say anything, no one's going to believe you." "I felt dirty, filthy," said Frisco, who is threatening legal action against Caracappa. "I felt violated."
She also described some of the strong-arm tactics the cop allegedly used while acting as Frankie Black, including threatening to cut off her daughter's fingers if drugs weren't delivered to him.
She said the terrifying ordeal forced her to send her five children to stay with relatives in Arizona, where she also went for a year after her legal woes were cleared up. She then returned to The Bronx and took on her grandparent's last name.
Frisco eventually divorced Warme.
Warme, 59, is also preparing to sue Caracappa, claiming that the former cop made bogus statements on the stand about Warme taking off with $20,000 he had given him for drugs.
Caracappa testified to giving Warme cash at the man's 1978 trial. Warme adamantly denies ever receiving the moolah and now believes the rogue cop pocketed it.
Ed Hayes, Caracappa's lawyer, said he didn't know enough about the couple to comment on the charges.
Warme admits that he was "no angel," and that he helped put Caracappa in touch with drug dealers because, "at the time, I was desperate for money."
He told The Post how he was first asked to track down cocaine, then heroin.
Prosecutors tried to introduce evidence at the mob cops' trial that Caracappa was caught on tape admitting to using cocaine while working in the narcotics unit, but the judge wouldn't let the jury hear it.
Frisco and Warme were being considered as potential witnesses in the case but wound up not being asked to speak under oath, partly because of an abundance of other evidence against the former officers.
The ex-cops are to be sentenced on racketeering raps, including murder and drug dealing, May 22.
Thanks to Patrick Gallahue and Zach Haberman
Friends of mine: Stephen Caracappa, Louis Eppolito
Mob cop Stephen Caracappa was not only a murderous Mafia mole when he wore an NYPD badge - he also was a rapist, according to a bombshell charge.
"That man reminded me of the devil - he was Satan," alleged victim Diane Frisco said about the dirty ex-detective, who she first met in the late 1970s while Caracappa was an undercover narcotics cop putting together a case against her and her husband, Richard Warme.
Frisco and Warme were once eyed as potential character witnesses for the feds in their case against Caracappa and disgraced former partner Louis Eppolito, who were convicted on murder raps earlier this month.
While being questioned on the Caracappa drug connection, Frisco told investigators that he had lured her into a Bronx motel room in 1978 and raped her. Her husband was in prison at the time awaiting trial after the then-cop busted him for facilitating a drug deal.
Warme said her ordeal began after then-cop Caracappa, whom she had only known as "Frankie Black" - his undercover persona - came to her house off the Throgs Neck Expressway and explained, "You know I can help your husband when it comes time for trial."
"Remember, I'm holding all the aces, kid," Caracappa allegedly told Frisco, now 58, who was charged along with her husband and was out on bail at the time. She was later acquitted at trial.
A few days later, Caracappa drove her to the Town and Country Motel on Conner Street, now a women's shelter, and led her into a first-floor room. "He put me on the bed and took off my pants," Frisco told The Post. "I was frozen - crying and frozen," she said, describing how Caracappa undressed and looked like "a skinny gorilla."
She never reported the loathsome tryst because the detective told her, "If you say anything, no one's going to believe you." "I felt dirty, filthy," said Frisco, who is threatening legal action against Caracappa. "I felt violated."
She also described some of the strong-arm tactics the cop allegedly used while acting as Frankie Black, including threatening to cut off her daughter's fingers if drugs weren't delivered to him.
She said the terrifying ordeal forced her to send her five children to stay with relatives in Arizona, where she also went for a year after her legal woes were cleared up. She then returned to The Bronx and took on her grandparent's last name.
Frisco eventually divorced Warme.
Warme, 59, is also preparing to sue Caracappa, claiming that the former cop made bogus statements on the stand about Warme taking off with $20,000 he had given him for drugs.
Caracappa testified to giving Warme cash at the man's 1978 trial. Warme adamantly denies ever receiving the moolah and now believes the rogue cop pocketed it.
Ed Hayes, Caracappa's lawyer, said he didn't know enough about the couple to comment on the charges.
Warme admits that he was "no angel," and that he helped put Caracappa in touch with drug dealers because, "at the time, I was desperate for money."
He told The Post how he was first asked to track down cocaine, then heroin.
Prosecutors tried to introduce evidence at the mob cops' trial that Caracappa was caught on tape admitting to using cocaine while working in the narcotics unit, but the judge wouldn't let the jury hear it.
Frisco and Warme were being considered as potential witnesses in the case but wound up not being asked to speak under oath, partly because of an abundance of other evidence against the former officers.
The ex-cops are to be sentenced on racketeering raps, including murder and drug dealing, May 22.
Thanks to Patrick Gallahue and Zach Haberman
How Ol' Blue Eyes Charmed a Princess
Princess Margaret invited Frank Sinatra to perform a favourite song for her in an affectionate letter.
Friends of mine: Frank Sinatra
He was the original pop idol, a brash entertainer with links to the Mafia. She was the Queen’s wild younger sister, a princess famed for her beauty, whose life tore a blazing path through popular culture. Now an affectionate handwritten letter from the Princess Margaret to Frank Sinatra has been discovered, inviting Ol' Blue Eyes to come swing with her at Kensington Palace.
It was March 1971. Sinatra had contacted the Princess from aboard the QE2, as he prepared for a tour in London. Her two-page reply, dated March 19, bears her distinctive M insignia, reveals her home telephone number, and requests a personal performance of the song Out of this World.
The Princess, who at the time was darling of the gossip columns and regularly voted one of the world's most beautiful women, could only have been flattered by the lyrics. In the song, Sinatra who had divorced the actress Mia Farrow three years earlier, would profess his love for her — for not one but two eternites. The Princess's own marriage to Lord Snowdon was to end in divorce five years later.
She had known Sinatra for more that ten years. Inviting him to dinner at the palace, she wrote: "Dear Frank, So nice to hear from you from the dear old ship and we would love to dine with you and perhaps it would amuse you to see the ancient dwelling (1690) which we have brought up to date."
The Princess, who was referring to her apartments at Kensington Palace, gave him her telephone number — the Clarence House switchboard.
"My mother's house so don't be put off and think that you have the wrong place. Because the operator will put you through."
In the letter, which has been acquired by Argyll Etkin, the London auctioneers who specialise in Royal memorabilia, the Princess requests one song. "Please brush up on the Out of This World song for all the fans of that particular music awaiting you," she wrote. "Yours very sincerely, Margaret."
Ian Shapiro, the joint managing director of Argyll Etkin, said that the letter was fascinating. "She was not a prolific letter writer, which is what makes this so interesting. She signed letters to the family Margot, and to friends Margaret."
The auction house acquired the letter on Kensington Palace headed notepaper from a private customer. It is valued at about £1,500. The letter has come to light as controversy grows over the sale of jewellery, silver, furniture and works of art owned by Princess Margaret to pay death duties on her estate.
The sale, by her son Lord Linley, includes gifts inscribed from her "devoted Papa" George VI, the Poltimore tiara that she wore at her wedding in 1960, and the Pietro Annigoni portrait of the Princess in 1957.
Sir Roy Strong, the former curator of the National Portrait Gallery, said: "I would be sorry to see it go overseas after sale at auction. Princess Margaret loved it".
In the "swinging Sixties" Princess Margaret and her husband, a society photographer, were at the heart of the new pop culture. They met, sang and danced to the music of the best bands and singers from the Beatles to the jazz musician Duke Ellington. Sinatra was a firm favourite of the couple.
Sinatra performed at a number of concerts for the Princess in front of fans to raise money for children's charities. Christopher Warwick, in his biography Princess Margaret: A Life of Contrasts disclosed that Sinatra had once paid the Princess a fulsome compliment.
Sinatra said: "Princess Margaret is just as hep wide-awake as any American girl, may be more so. She is up on all the latest records and movies and has a lot of wit and charm too. She is the best ambassador England ever had."
Thanks to Andrew Pierce
Friends of mine: Frank Sinatra
He was the original pop idol, a brash entertainer with links to the Mafia. She was the Queen’s wild younger sister, a princess famed for her beauty, whose life tore a blazing path through popular culture. Now an affectionate handwritten letter from the Princess Margaret to Frank Sinatra has been discovered, inviting Ol' Blue Eyes to come swing with her at Kensington Palace.
It was March 1971. Sinatra had contacted the Princess from aboard the QE2, as he prepared for a tour in London. Her two-page reply, dated March 19, bears her distinctive M insignia, reveals her home telephone number, and requests a personal performance of the song Out of this World.
The Princess, who at the time was darling of the gossip columns and regularly voted one of the world's most beautiful women, could only have been flattered by the lyrics. In the song, Sinatra who had divorced the actress Mia Farrow three years earlier, would profess his love for her — for not one but two eternites. The Princess's own marriage to Lord Snowdon was to end in divorce five years later.
She had known Sinatra for more that ten years. Inviting him to dinner at the palace, she wrote: "Dear Frank, So nice to hear from you from the dear old ship and we would love to dine with you and perhaps it would amuse you to see the ancient dwelling (1690) which we have brought up to date."
The Princess, who was referring to her apartments at Kensington Palace, gave him her telephone number — the Clarence House switchboard.
"My mother's house so don't be put off and think that you have the wrong place. Because the operator will put you through."
In the letter, which has been acquired by Argyll Etkin, the London auctioneers who specialise in Royal memorabilia, the Princess requests one song. "Please brush up on the Out of This World song for all the fans of that particular music awaiting you," she wrote. "Yours very sincerely, Margaret."
Ian Shapiro, the joint managing director of Argyll Etkin, said that the letter was fascinating. "She was not a prolific letter writer, which is what makes this so interesting. She signed letters to the family Margot, and to friends Margaret."
The auction house acquired the letter on Kensington Palace headed notepaper from a private customer. It is valued at about £1,500. The letter has come to light as controversy grows over the sale of jewellery, silver, furniture and works of art owned by Princess Margaret to pay death duties on her estate.
The sale, by her son Lord Linley, includes gifts inscribed from her "devoted Papa" George VI, the Poltimore tiara that she wore at her wedding in 1960, and the Pietro Annigoni portrait of the Princess in 1957.
Sir Roy Strong, the former curator of the National Portrait Gallery, said: "I would be sorry to see it go overseas after sale at auction. Princess Margaret loved it".
In the "swinging Sixties" Princess Margaret and her husband, a society photographer, were at the heart of the new pop culture. They met, sang and danced to the music of the best bands and singers from the Beatles to the jazz musician Duke Ellington. Sinatra was a firm favourite of the couple.
Sinatra performed at a number of concerts for the Princess in front of fans to raise money for children's charities. Christopher Warwick, in his biography Princess Margaret: A Life of Contrasts disclosed that Sinatra had once paid the Princess a fulsome compliment.
Sinatra said: "Princess Margaret is just as hep wide-awake as any American girl, may be more so. She is up on all the latest records and movies and has a lot of wit and charm too. She is the best ambassador England ever had."
Thanks to Andrew Pierce
Boss: Ex-agent no thug - Former FBI chief backs DeVecchio
Friends of ours: Gregory Scarpa Sr., Colombo Crime Family
The former head of the FBI in New York insists that ex-G-man Lindley DeVecchio is innocent of charges that he helped fuel a top mob capo's murderous reign. Speaking out for the first time on the controversial case, James Kallstrom defended DeVecchio's handling of killer mobster Gregory Scarpa Sr. - and called the former agent a "hard worker" who risked his life going undercover to help smash the Mafia.
"Lin DeVecchio is not guilty and did not partake in what he's being charged with. It's as simple as that," Kallstrom, who now serves as senior counterterrorism adviser to Gov. Pataki, told the Daily News. "His work went a long way toward the success of the FBI task force breaking up La Cosa Nostra as we knew it."
Kallstrom, who was the face of the FBI through major cases such as the TWA Flight 800 probe and the first World Trade Center attack, has known the embattled agent more than 30 years.
He dismissed the corruption charges brought by Brooklyn District Attorney Charles Hynes as a hodgepodge of old accusations that had been thoroughly investigated by the Justice Department and the FBI.
The probes failed to uncover enough evidence to charge DeVecchio with a crime or even to discipline him. "There was no finding that any of those charges were valid," Kallstrom said. "From my knowledge, the two investigations were voluminous and took literally years to complete."
He added, "I don't proclaim to know everything that the district attorney might know, but from what I do know, I don't believe he's guilty of those charges because they've been thoroughly investigated before."
Prosecutors have painted an entirely different picture, accusing DeVecchio of taking payoffs from Scarpa and supplying him with inside information that led to four underworld slayings. That arrangement, prosecutors say, helped DeVecchio enhance his stature within the FBI while giving the Colombo chieftain license to kill with impunity.
Kallstrom acknowledged handling informers is "a tricky business." But he categorically denied there were payoffs. "Of course not," he said, bristling.
He added that the bureau had no knowledge that Scarpa, allegedly with DeVecchio's tacit blessings, was orchestrating a series of killings that left the streets of Brooklyn awash in blood.
"The notion that the FBI knew [Scarpa] was out killing people is preposterous," said Kallstrom, adding there were many "checks and balances" to ensure DeVecchio and Scarpa's "close working relationship" remained above board.
Hynes' office says it has the evidence to prove otherwise. "We are prepared to go to trial," said a Hynes spokesman.
Kallstrom is backing the Friends of Lin DeVecchio Trust Web site to raise funds for DeVecchio's legal defense, joining scores of active and retired FBI agents including Joe Pistone, who went undercover in the Mafia as Donnie Brasco.
"We put a Web site up to try to help with his legal expenses, and I lent my name to that because I believe he's innocent," Kallstrom said.
Thanks to Angela Mosconi
The former head of the FBI in New York insists that ex-G-man Lindley DeVecchio is innocent of charges that he helped fuel a top mob capo's murderous reign. Speaking out for the first time on the controversial case, James Kallstrom defended DeVecchio's handling of killer mobster Gregory Scarpa Sr. - and called the former agent a "hard worker" who risked his life going undercover to help smash the Mafia.
"Lin DeVecchio is not guilty and did not partake in what he's being charged with. It's as simple as that," Kallstrom, who now serves as senior counterterrorism adviser to Gov. Pataki, told the Daily News. "His work went a long way toward the success of the FBI task force breaking up La Cosa Nostra as we knew it."
Kallstrom, who was the face of the FBI through major cases such as the TWA Flight 800 probe and the first World Trade Center attack, has known the embattled agent more than 30 years.
He dismissed the corruption charges brought by Brooklyn District Attorney Charles Hynes as a hodgepodge of old accusations that had been thoroughly investigated by the Justice Department and the FBI.
The probes failed to uncover enough evidence to charge DeVecchio with a crime or even to discipline him. "There was no finding that any of those charges were valid," Kallstrom said. "From my knowledge, the two investigations were voluminous and took literally years to complete."
He added, "I don't proclaim to know everything that the district attorney might know, but from what I do know, I don't believe he's guilty of those charges because they've been thoroughly investigated before."
Prosecutors have painted an entirely different picture, accusing DeVecchio of taking payoffs from Scarpa and supplying him with inside information that led to four underworld slayings. That arrangement, prosecutors say, helped DeVecchio enhance his stature within the FBI while giving the Colombo chieftain license to kill with impunity.
Kallstrom acknowledged handling informers is "a tricky business." But he categorically denied there were payoffs. "Of course not," he said, bristling.
He added that the bureau had no knowledge that Scarpa, allegedly with DeVecchio's tacit blessings, was orchestrating a series of killings that left the streets of Brooklyn awash in blood.
"The notion that the FBI knew [Scarpa] was out killing people is preposterous," said Kallstrom, adding there were many "checks and balances" to ensure DeVecchio and Scarpa's "close working relationship" remained above board.
Hynes' office says it has the evidence to prove otherwise. "We are prepared to go to trial," said a Hynes spokesman.
Kallstrom is backing the Friends of Lin DeVecchio Trust Web site to raise funds for DeVecchio's legal defense, joining scores of active and retired FBI agents including Joe Pistone, who went undercover in the Mafia as Donnie Brasco.
"We put a Web site up to try to help with his legal expenses, and I lent my name to that because I believe he's innocent," Kallstrom said.
Thanks to Angela Mosconi
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