In the biggest organized crime trial here in years, jurors scribbled dutifully in notebooks Monday as the son of a reputed mob leader offered a rare, almost surreal how-to lesson about growing up in the “Chicago Outfit.”
The witness, Frank Calabrese Jr., defined terms like “work cars” (untraceable cars for use in crimes), “juice loans” (“high interest loans,” he said, from “the Outfit”) and “underbosses” (akin, he explained, to “vice presidents of companies”).
Mr. Calabrese also told of hidden Uzis, shotguns and rifles in a wall of the home he once shared with his grandmother. And, in his nasal Chicago tone, he outlined essential mores of the Outfit, like, “You weren’t supposed to steal without permission.”
On trial here are five men, including Mr. Calabrese’s father, Frank Sr., who federal prosecutors say were powerful leaders in the city’s organized crime operations in decades gone by. The men are accused of taking part in a racketeering conspiracy that included gambling, loan sharking and 18 killings that, until now, had never led to charges.
Among those deaths: the fatal beatings in 1986 of Tony Spilotro, a chief enforcer in Las Vegas known as the Ant, and his brother, Michael, who were found buried in an Indiana cornfield.
Fourteen men, including some in their 70s, were indicted in the case when it began in 2005, but time and age, among other things, has thinned the numbers. Two of the initial defendants died. One is too sick to stand trial. Six others have pleaded guilty.
On Monday, five men — some balding and one, Joey Lombardo, known as the Clown, who was rolled into court in a wheelchair — listened intently as the younger Mr. Calabrese, 47, repeatedly broke another of what he described as the Outfit’s dos and don’ts: “A lot of things you weren’t supposed to talk about.”
Mr. Calabrese, whose testimony began last week and is expected to go on for days to come, told of discussions he said he had overheard about killings, including those of the Spilotro brothers. He said his father and an uncle, Nicholas, had once planned out a shooting by setting up two chairs in their office like the front seat of a car and practicing how it would come down. He said the same uncle had once asked him to fish a murder weapon out of a Chicago sewer; he was working for the city’s sewer department at the time, Mr. Calabrese said, and retrieved the gun while out on the job.
The elder Mr. Calabrese, 70, who has pleaded not guilty to the charges, said nothing aloud in court Monday, but he repeatedly whispered to his lawyer, Joseph Lopez, and sometimes smiled or smirked or shook his head as his son spoke. Mr. Lopez, in an opening statement when the trial began last month, suggested that his client and his son simply did not get along.
“It’s very difficult for any parent to see his child testify against him,” Mr. Lopez told reporters last week. But on the stand, the younger Mr. Calabrese (whose code name was Jr. on the elaborate handwritten spreadsheets for collecting “street taxes” and counting cuts in gambling operations that were flashed on a large screen before jurors) said he had sought his father’s promise a decade ago that he would “stop his ways” and “semi-retire from the Outfit.”
Total retirement, the son explained, was impossible. “Stepping back,” where people were called on only once in a while, was allowed. But while father and son were both in prison for loan sharking, the younger Mr. Calabrese testified, it became clear that the elder man was not planning to quit at all. That, the witness said, was when he wrote a letter to the F.B.I., offering all that he knew.
If the trial, which is expected to last much of the summer, seemed to some full of faded organized crime images — white-haired men in failing health and nicknames out of a forgotten book — it did not, apparently, to others.
Last week one witness, Joel Glickman, went to jail for refusing to testify against the defendants. He said he was afraid of what might happen to him if he talked.
On Monday, Mr. Glickman, 71, came to court — appearing grumpy but willing to talk about the hundreds of thousands in “street taxes” he said he had paid as a bookmaker since the 1960s. Mr. Glickman had nothing unpleasant to say, though, about Mr. Calabrese or the other men on trial. Under questioning by Mr. Lopez, he took pains to say that Mr. Calabrese had always been cordial and diplomatic and that he had never threatened him in the least.
Loyalty, Mr. Calabrese, the son, explained to the jury, was another of the dos and don’ts he had learned from his father.
He recalled that after the Spilotro deaths, he pledged he would avenge the death of his father and his uncle if they were ever similarly killed.
“One of the rules of the Outfit was that your Outfit family came before your blood family,” he said. He added, “It also came before God.”
But the trial has shown that family ties, whatever the family, don’t always hold. Later in the trial, Nicholas Calabrese, the uncle, is also scheduled to testify — for the prosecution.
Thanks to Monica Davey
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
"Made" The Chicago Way - Mob Induction & A Son Turning on His Father
In one of the first undercover tapes played at the Family Secrets trial, a speaker identified as reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr. recounted for his son the ceremony at which Outfit members become "made."
The underboss, the Outfit's second-in-command, and capos, who led the street crews, initiated new members one by one, cutting their fingers and then burning a holy picture in their hands, the elder Calabrese said in the 1999 conversation. The bosses checked out if anyone flinched in pain, according to the tape played Monday in court. Candidates had to have a murder under their belt.
"You know what I regret more than anything?" said Calabrese, accused by prosecutors in 13 gangland slayings. "Burning the holy pictures in my hand. That bothers me."
In his first full day on the witness stand, Calabrese's son, Frank Jr., who identified his father on the tape, testified about murder and intimidation as his father glowered at him from under furrowed brows, his chin jutting forward in defiance at times and amusement at other times.
The younger Calabrese, dressed in an unbuttoned blue, red and white polo shirt, largely avoided his father's gaze, looking straight ahead as he responded to the questions of a federal prosecutor, often pushing out his lower lip and knitting together his eyebrows in the same manner as his father.
For the first time, Calabrese told why he had turned his back on his father and wore a hidden recorder for the feds as the two talked in a federal prison.
When the younger Calabrese was about to go to prison in the loan-sharking case, he said, he had a meeting at his attorney's office that his father unexpectedly attended. Calabrese had violated his bond by taking drugs, and his father made him promise to go clean, he said. "Promise me you'll never do drugs again" and be "a good person," the older Calabrese told him, the son testified
At the same time, Calabrese asked his father to "semiretire" from the Outfit, and "he said he would," the son testified.
After he went to prison, the younger Calabrese said he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, leading him to decide to indeed change his criminal ways. But Calabrese said he realized his father never intended to reform.
The younger Calabrese said he contacted federal authorities from prison and offered to cooperate. Now he is one of the government's star witnesses at the trial of the senior Calabrese, 70, reputed mob figures Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, James Marcello and Paul "the Indian" Schiro as well as Anthony Doyle, a former Chicago police officer. At the heart of the prosecution are 18 long-unsolved murders.
In an undercover tape played in court Monday, the elder Calabrese expressed some regrets at being made a full-fledged member of the Outfit in the secret ceremony years earlier. On the tape, the elder Calabrese said he told his sponsor, Angelo LaPietra, boss of the 26th Street crew in the early to mid-1980s, that "I didn't want it."
"I would be strapped down and if I wanted to do something else, I couldn't," Calabrese was heard on the tape telling his son.
The elder Calabrese told his son that to qualify, a made member had to have committed at least one murder, though the initiation could take place years later, the son said. But the elder Calabrese gave plaudits to Mario Puzo, author of the "Godfather," saying the book's depiction of the making ceremony was "very close" to the real thing, his son said.
Calabrese told jurors that his father and his uncle, Nicholas Calabrese, had confided to him years earlier the details of how brothers Anthony and Michael Spilotro had been killed in one of the Outfit's most infamous murders.
Nicholas Calabrese is expected to testify for the government, implicating his brother, Frank Sr. in as many as 13 murders. The cooperation of the elder Calabrese's brother and son led to the code name for the federal investigation, Operation Family Secrets.
In the mid-1980s, the Outfit was unhappy with Anthony Spilotro's handling of its interests in Nevada, and Nicholas Calabrese and John Fecarotta went out to Las Vegas to kill Anthony Spilotro and someone else, the younger Calabrese testified.
They were unsuccessful, but while they were there, Fecarotta won a lot of money while gambling. Casino records placed Nicholas Calabrese there for the Las Vegas trip. The two older Calabreses were furious when they learned of the records because Nicholas Calabrese and Fecarotta had killed another Outfit associate - - whose name Calabrese Jr. said he could not remember - - while they were in Las Vegas.
When the first attempt to kill Anthony Spilotro failed, members of the Outfit decided to bring the Spilotro brothers to Chicago, under the pretense of initiating Michael Spilotro as a "made" member, Calabrese Jr. said. The Spilotros were led to a Chicago-area home and to the basement, where "a whole bunch of guys" surrounded them, he testified.
The brothers were strangled, and beaten to death as some of the Outfit members held their legs, he said. The older Calabreses told him that "Michael didn't put up much of a struggle," but Anthony Spilotro struggled and warned those who were killing him, "You guys are going to get in trouble!" Calabrese Jr. testified.
Nicholas Calabrese later shot Fecarotta to death because Fecarotta was assigned to bury the Spilotros' bodies, which were discovered in an Indiana cornfield, but Nicholas himself was wounded in the hit, Calabrese Jr. testified. When his uncle recovered, he asked Calabrese Jr., at the time a supervisor at the Chicago Department of Sewers, to retrieve the gun used in the shooting from a sewer where Nicholas Calabrese had dumped it. The younger Calabrese said he arranged it so his work crew carried out repairs in the area where the gun was dumped. Under the pretense of cleaning the sewer, Calabrese found the gun and returned it to his uncle, he testified.
Jurors and defendants alike paid rapt attention to much of the testimony Monday, even when Calabrese Jr. detailed high-interest juice loans, street taxes on businesses and other Outfit operations.
The serious atmosphere of the courtroom was broken only a few times, including once when Calabrese Sr. decided to get up to leave the courtroom for a restroom in the middle of his son's testimony. The elder Calabrese, who is in custody, went to a bathroom in a lockup hidden from the view of jurors.
A few minutes later, outside the jury's presence, Judge James Zagel admonished the defendants that they were allowed to leave for a restroom break during testimony, but by doing so they waived their constitutional right to be present for testimony.
Lombardo, whose nickname of "the Clown" has long matched his history of colorful antics, piped up: "I go pretty often, judge!" drawing laughter from the packed courtroom.
Much of Calabrese's testimony Monday dealt with the minutiae of Outfit life, such as how he spoke in code with his father, how juice loans were calculated and his work with his uncle in enforcing bans on illegal activity in parts of the Chicago area without Outfit approval.
Calabrese Sr. also told his son, in one of their taped conversations played Monday, that federal authorities did not always know who were actual members of the Outfit. Asked by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully whether that meant that the Outfit had "sleepers" who worked almost exclusively behind the scenes, Calabrese said, "Yes."
The only other testimony Monday came from Joel Glickman, a former mob-connected sports bookmaker who previously had refused to testify, despite being given immunity from prosecution, and had been jailed for contempt. After a week in jail, Glickman decided to testify after all. He said he took out a juice loan for his boss at an insurance company from Calabrese Sr.
Thanks to Liam Ford
The underboss, the Outfit's second-in-command, and capos, who led the street crews, initiated new members one by one, cutting their fingers and then burning a holy picture in their hands, the elder Calabrese said in the 1999 conversation. The bosses checked out if anyone flinched in pain, according to the tape played Monday in court. Candidates had to have a murder under their belt.
"You know what I regret more than anything?" said Calabrese, accused by prosecutors in 13 gangland slayings. "Burning the holy pictures in my hand. That bothers me."
In his first full day on the witness stand, Calabrese's son, Frank Jr., who identified his father on the tape, testified about murder and intimidation as his father glowered at him from under furrowed brows, his chin jutting forward in defiance at times and amusement at other times.
The younger Calabrese, dressed in an unbuttoned blue, red and white polo shirt, largely avoided his father's gaze, looking straight ahead as he responded to the questions of a federal prosecutor, often pushing out his lower lip and knitting together his eyebrows in the same manner as his father.
For the first time, Calabrese told why he had turned his back on his father and wore a hidden recorder for the feds as the two talked in a federal prison.
When the younger Calabrese was about to go to prison in the loan-sharking case, he said, he had a meeting at his attorney's office that his father unexpectedly attended. Calabrese had violated his bond by taking drugs, and his father made him promise to go clean, he said. "Promise me you'll never do drugs again" and be "a good person," the older Calabrese told him, the son testified
At the same time, Calabrese asked his father to "semiretire" from the Outfit, and "he said he would," the son testified.
After he went to prison, the younger Calabrese said he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, leading him to decide to indeed change his criminal ways. But Calabrese said he realized his father never intended to reform.
The younger Calabrese said he contacted federal authorities from prison and offered to cooperate. Now he is one of the government's star witnesses at the trial of the senior Calabrese, 70, reputed mob figures Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, James Marcello and Paul "the Indian" Schiro as well as Anthony Doyle, a former Chicago police officer. At the heart of the prosecution are 18 long-unsolved murders.
In an undercover tape played in court Monday, the elder Calabrese expressed some regrets at being made a full-fledged member of the Outfit in the secret ceremony years earlier. On the tape, the elder Calabrese said he told his sponsor, Angelo LaPietra, boss of the 26th Street crew in the early to mid-1980s, that "I didn't want it."
"I would be strapped down and if I wanted to do something else, I couldn't," Calabrese was heard on the tape telling his son.
The elder Calabrese told his son that to qualify, a made member had to have committed at least one murder, though the initiation could take place years later, the son said. But the elder Calabrese gave plaudits to Mario Puzo, author of the "Godfather," saying the book's depiction of the making ceremony was "very close" to the real thing, his son said.
Calabrese told jurors that his father and his uncle, Nicholas Calabrese, had confided to him years earlier the details of how brothers Anthony and Michael Spilotro had been killed in one of the Outfit's most infamous murders.
Nicholas Calabrese is expected to testify for the government, implicating his brother, Frank Sr. in as many as 13 murders. The cooperation of the elder Calabrese's brother and son led to the code name for the federal investigation, Operation Family Secrets.
In the mid-1980s, the Outfit was unhappy with Anthony Spilotro's handling of its interests in Nevada, and Nicholas Calabrese and John Fecarotta went out to Las Vegas to kill Anthony Spilotro and someone else, the younger Calabrese testified.
They were unsuccessful, but while they were there, Fecarotta won a lot of money while gambling. Casino records placed Nicholas Calabrese there for the Las Vegas trip. The two older Calabreses were furious when they learned of the records because Nicholas Calabrese and Fecarotta had killed another Outfit associate - - whose name Calabrese Jr. said he could not remember - - while they were in Las Vegas.
When the first attempt to kill Anthony Spilotro failed, members of the Outfit decided to bring the Spilotro brothers to Chicago, under the pretense of initiating Michael Spilotro as a "made" member, Calabrese Jr. said. The Spilotros were led to a Chicago-area home and to the basement, where "a whole bunch of guys" surrounded them, he testified.
The brothers were strangled, and beaten to death as some of the Outfit members held their legs, he said. The older Calabreses told him that "Michael didn't put up much of a struggle," but Anthony Spilotro struggled and warned those who were killing him, "You guys are going to get in trouble!" Calabrese Jr. testified.
Nicholas Calabrese later shot Fecarotta to death because Fecarotta was assigned to bury the Spilotros' bodies, which were discovered in an Indiana cornfield, but Nicholas himself was wounded in the hit, Calabrese Jr. testified. When his uncle recovered, he asked Calabrese Jr., at the time a supervisor at the Chicago Department of Sewers, to retrieve the gun used in the shooting from a sewer where Nicholas Calabrese had dumped it. The younger Calabrese said he arranged it so his work crew carried out repairs in the area where the gun was dumped. Under the pretense of cleaning the sewer, Calabrese found the gun and returned it to his uncle, he testified.
Jurors and defendants alike paid rapt attention to much of the testimony Monday, even when Calabrese Jr. detailed high-interest juice loans, street taxes on businesses and other Outfit operations.
The serious atmosphere of the courtroom was broken only a few times, including once when Calabrese Sr. decided to get up to leave the courtroom for a restroom in the middle of his son's testimony. The elder Calabrese, who is in custody, went to a bathroom in a lockup hidden from the view of jurors.
A few minutes later, outside the jury's presence, Judge James Zagel admonished the defendants that they were allowed to leave for a restroom break during testimony, but by doing so they waived their constitutional right to be present for testimony.
Lombardo, whose nickname of "the Clown" has long matched his history of colorful antics, piped up: "I go pretty often, judge!" drawing laughter from the packed courtroom.
Much of Calabrese's testimony Monday dealt with the minutiae of Outfit life, such as how he spoke in code with his father, how juice loans were calculated and his work with his uncle in enforcing bans on illegal activity in parts of the Chicago area without Outfit approval.
Calabrese Sr. also told his son, in one of their taped conversations played Monday, that federal authorities did not always know who were actual members of the Outfit. Asked by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully whether that meant that the Outfit had "sleepers" who worked almost exclusively behind the scenes, Calabrese said, "Yes."
The only other testimony Monday came from Joel Glickman, a former mob-connected sports bookmaker who previously had refused to testify, despite being given immunity from prosecution, and had been jailed for contempt. After a week in jail, Glickman decided to testify after all. He said he took out a juice loan for his boss at an insurance company from Calabrese Sr.
Thanks to Liam Ford
Monday, July 09, 2007
The Outfit Family, Your Blood Family, and God, in that Order
Friends of ours: Frank Calabrese Sr.,
Friends of mine: Frank Calabrese Jr., Joel Glickman
The eldest son of reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr. testified today that his dad schooled him in the ways of the Outfit, making it understood that the Chicago crime syndicate was meant to be more important to its members than anything—even family and God.
Frank Calabrese Jr., 47, took the stand again today for a little more than an hour, before a break gave prosecutors the opportunity to call witness Joel Glickman, a former mob-connected sports bookmaker who went to jail a week ago rather than testify against Calabrese Sr.
Much of Calabrese's testimony this morning dealt with the minutiae of Outfit life, such as how he spoke in code with his father, how juice loans were calculated and his work with his uncle Nicholas Calabrese in enforcing bans on illegal activity in parts of the Chicago area without Outfit approval.
"We would use brothers, code them as sisters," Calabrese Jr. said.
His father, himself was known as "Frankie Breeze," would give nicknames to people, Calabrese Jr. said.
Sometimes, if they were around someone from whom they wanted to mask the true nature of their conversation, they would change how they referred to someone two or three times, so it would appear to an outsider that they were having conversations about three different people, he said.
Calabrese Jr. is one of the government's two star witnesses in the trial—code named Family Secrets because defendant Frank Calabrese Sr.'s son and brother had done the unthinkable, squealing on a reputed mob brother and blood relative.
The elder Calabrese, 70, and four other men are charged with running the Chicago Outfit for decades as a racketeering conspiracy.
Calabrese Jr. testified today that there were many rules of the Outfit that his father explained over the years—"dos and don'ts, mostly don'ts."
Chief among them was where members' loyalty should lie—to the Outfit above mother, father or other relatives. "He told me . . . your family, the Outfit family, came before your blood family. . . It also came before God," Calabrese Jr. said.
Members of the Outfit were expected to be members for life, and although they could withdraw from active duty, they were expected to respond if any bosses called on them, Calabrese Jr. said.
Members could, however, be frozen out of the Outfit if they engaged in illegal activity without prior approval from an Outfit leader, stole money from an Outfit crew or started taking drugs, he said.
Calabrese Jr. testified about how he, his father and his uncle spent a few hours a week, usually each Saturday, keeping the books for their street tax, juice loan and gambling operations. He was involved in the work from the late 1970s through the early 1990s, he said.
He also demonstrated how he and others kept track of bookmakers, gamblers and others who owed his father's 26th Street crew, using cards and notes with coded names—but real dollar amounts—regarding weekly debts and payments.
Thanks to Liam Ford
Friends of mine: Frank Calabrese Jr., Joel Glickman
The eldest son of reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr. testified today that his dad schooled him in the ways of the Outfit, making it understood that the Chicago crime syndicate was meant to be more important to its members than anything—even family and God.
Frank Calabrese Jr., 47, took the stand again today for a little more than an hour, before a break gave prosecutors the opportunity to call witness Joel Glickman, a former mob-connected sports bookmaker who went to jail a week ago rather than testify against Calabrese Sr.Much of Calabrese's testimony this morning dealt with the minutiae of Outfit life, such as how he spoke in code with his father, how juice loans were calculated and his work with his uncle Nicholas Calabrese in enforcing bans on illegal activity in parts of the Chicago area without Outfit approval.
"We would use brothers, code them as sisters," Calabrese Jr. said.
His father, himself was known as "Frankie Breeze," would give nicknames to people, Calabrese Jr. said.
Sometimes, if they were around someone from whom they wanted to mask the true nature of their conversation, they would change how they referred to someone two or three times, so it would appear to an outsider that they were having conversations about three different people, he said.
Calabrese Jr. is one of the government's two star witnesses in the trial—code named Family Secrets because defendant Frank Calabrese Sr.'s son and brother had done the unthinkable, squealing on a reputed mob brother and blood relative.
The elder Calabrese, 70, and four other men are charged with running the Chicago Outfit for decades as a racketeering conspiracy.
Calabrese Jr. testified today that there were many rules of the Outfit that his father explained over the years—"dos and don'ts, mostly don'ts."
Chief among them was where members' loyalty should lie—to the Outfit above mother, father or other relatives. "He told me . . . your family, the Outfit family, came before your blood family. . . It also came before God," Calabrese Jr. said.
Members of the Outfit were expected to be members for life, and although they could withdraw from active duty, they were expected to respond if any bosses called on them, Calabrese Jr. said.
Members could, however, be frozen out of the Outfit if they engaged in illegal activity without prior approval from an Outfit leader, stole money from an Outfit crew or started taking drugs, he said.
Calabrese Jr. testified about how he, his father and his uncle spent a few hours a week, usually each Saturday, keeping the books for their street tax, juice loan and gambling operations. He was involved in the work from the late 1970s through the early 1990s, he said.
He also demonstrated how he and others kept track of bookmakers, gamblers and others who owed his father's 26th Street crew, using cards and notes with coded names—but real dollar amounts—regarding weekly debts and payments.
Thanks to Liam Ford
Mobster, Tony Spilotro, Fought Killers to Death
Friends of ours: Tony "the Ant" Spilotro, Frank Calabrese Sr., Nick Calabrese, James Marcello, Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, Paul "The Indian" Schiro, Anthony Doyle
Friends of mine: Michael Spilotro, Frank Calabrese Jr.
A mobster who inspired a movie character warned his attackers before they beat him to death that they would get in trouble, an organized crime insider testified Monday.
Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, and his brother, Michael, had been lured to a basement on the pretext that Michael would be initiated as a "made guy" into the mob, Frank Calabrese Jr. said.
"He came into the basement and there were a whole bunch of guys who grabbed him and strangled him and beat him to death," Calabrese said at Chicago's biggest mob trial in years. "Tony put up a fight. He kept saying, 'You guys are going to get in trouble, you guys are going to get in trouble,'" the prosecution witness said.
Five defendants, including Calabrese's father, reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr., are charged with taking part in a racketeering conspiracy that included 18 killings, gambling, loan sharking and extortion. The slayings of the Spilotro brothers - Michael was killed the same night - were among the murder charges.
Despite his graphic narrative, Calabrese was not a witness to the June 1986 death of Tony Spilotro, known as the Chicago Outfit's man in Las Vegas and inspiration for the Joe Pesci character in "Casino."
Calabrese testified that he heard what happened from his uncle, Nicholas Calabrese, who has pleaded guilty and also is expected to testify at the trial. The younger Calabrese testified he was told Tony Spilotro would be killed because he was engaging in unauthorized activities in Las Vegas.
Calabrese Sr., 69, is on trial along with James Marcello, 65; Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, 78; convicted jewel thief Paul Schiro, 70; and former police officer Anthony Doyle, 62.
Prosecutors on Monday began playing tapes made secretly by Calabrese Jr. in talks with his father when they both were imprisoned for loan sharking. Calabrese Jr. said he wrote to an FBI agent volunteering to make the tapes because he wanted to change his life and get away from his father, whom he described as manipulative and unwilling to give up crime. The father sat expressionless as his son, who now runs a carry-out near Phoenix, said he wanted to "expose my father for what he was."
Also Monday, convicted bookie Joel Glickman, who went to jail rather than testify against Calabrese Sr., told jurors he paid thousands in "street tax" to the mob and once got a "juice loan" from Calabrese.
Glickman, looking haggard after spending a week behind bars for contempt because of his earlier refusal to testify, said he paid as much as $400,000 in "street tax" over 25 years of working as a bookmaker.
If he hadn't paid the mob for permission to do business, he would have lived in a state of fear, he said.
"Fear of what?" asked Assistant U.S. Attorney Markus Funk. "Fear of getting hurt," Glickman said.
Glickman said that he stopped working as a bookie for six years in the 1970s and went into the insurance business, but that while doing so he got a $20,000 loan for his boss from Calabrese.
"A juice loan?" Funk asked, using a mob term for usury.
"I'd say so," said Glickman, testifying under immunity from prosecution.
Calabrese attorney Joseph Lopez tried to soften the impact of that testimony, asking Glickman whether "Calabrese ever threatened you."
"Never," Glickman said. He agreed with Lopez that Calabrese had always been polite and diplomatic with him.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Friends of mine: Michael Spilotro, Frank Calabrese Jr.
A mobster who inspired a movie character warned his attackers before they beat him to death that they would get in trouble, an organized crime insider testified Monday.
Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, and his brother, Michael, had been lured to a basement on the pretext that Michael would be initiated as a "made guy" into the mob, Frank Calabrese Jr. said.
"He came into the basement and there were a whole bunch of guys who grabbed him and strangled him and beat him to death," Calabrese said at Chicago's biggest mob trial in years. "Tony put up a fight. He kept saying, 'You guys are going to get in trouble, you guys are going to get in trouble,'" the prosecution witness said.
Five defendants, including Calabrese's father, reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr., are charged with taking part in a racketeering conspiracy that included 18 killings, gambling, loan sharking and extortion. The slayings of the Spilotro brothers - Michael was killed the same night - were among the murder charges.
Despite his graphic narrative, Calabrese was not a witness to the June 1986 death of Tony Spilotro, known as the Chicago Outfit's man in Las Vegas and inspiration for the Joe Pesci character in "Casino."
Calabrese testified that he heard what happened from his uncle, Nicholas Calabrese, who has pleaded guilty and also is expected to testify at the trial. The younger Calabrese testified he was told Tony Spilotro would be killed because he was engaging in unauthorized activities in Las Vegas.
Calabrese Sr., 69, is on trial along with James Marcello, 65; Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, 78; convicted jewel thief Paul Schiro, 70; and former police officer Anthony Doyle, 62.
Prosecutors on Monday began playing tapes made secretly by Calabrese Jr. in talks with his father when they both were imprisoned for loan sharking. Calabrese Jr. said he wrote to an FBI agent volunteering to make the tapes because he wanted to change his life and get away from his father, whom he described as manipulative and unwilling to give up crime. The father sat expressionless as his son, who now runs a carry-out near Phoenix, said he wanted to "expose my father for what he was."
Also Monday, convicted bookie Joel Glickman, who went to jail rather than testify against Calabrese Sr., told jurors he paid thousands in "street tax" to the mob and once got a "juice loan" from Calabrese.
Glickman, looking haggard after spending a week behind bars for contempt because of his earlier refusal to testify, said he paid as much as $400,000 in "street tax" over 25 years of working as a bookmaker.
If he hadn't paid the mob for permission to do business, he would have lived in a state of fear, he said.
"Fear of what?" asked Assistant U.S. Attorney Markus Funk. "Fear of getting hurt," Glickman said.
Glickman said that he stopped working as a bookie for six years in the 1970s and went into the insurance business, but that while doing so he got a $20,000 loan for his boss from Calabrese.
"A juice loan?" Funk asked, using a mob term for usury.
"I'd say so," said Glickman, testifying under immunity from prosecution.
Calabrese attorney Joseph Lopez tried to soften the impact of that testimony, asking Glickman whether "Calabrese ever threatened you."
"Never," Glickman said. He agreed with Lopez that Calabrese had always been polite and diplomatic with him.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Analyzing Crime Scene Clues
Imagine the heartbreak of having your young child mysteriously disappear from a holiday party…as happened to a northern Virginia family some years ago.
Now imagine you’re the FBI agent trying desperately to solve the case, but with no sign of the missing 5-year-old and little evidence to go on. Your prime suspect is the maintenance man at the apartment complex where the child lived. In his car you find tiny bits of hair and clothing fibers. Will this evidence be your link to the missing child, the break you need to solve the investigation?
In this case…as in many cases like it before and since…the answer was yes—thanks to the work of forensic experts in our FBI Laboratory. After careful analysis, our scientists found that the hairs were highly similar to the missing girl’s and that the fibers were no different from those on a rabbit hair coat worn by the child’s mother. Even though the 5-year-old was never found, this trace evidence—as we call it because it’s small and easily transferred—played a key role in putting the killer behind bars.
Each year, some 10,000 bits of this kind of evidence—shards of glass, strands of hair and fur, paint chips, soil clods, feathers, rocks and minerals, building materials of all kinds, you name it—come pouring into what we call our Trace Evidence Unit on the third floor of our FBI Lab in rural Virginia, courtesy of not just FBI investigators but also any law enforcement agency nationwide looking for help in a case.
There, it is compared, contrasted, and analyzed every which way for whatever clues may lie hidden, usually invisible to the naked eye. A lot can be learned in the process.
Just a few examples: We can tell if a strand of hair is dyed or burned; whether it’s from an animal or human being; what part of the body it’s from; and whether it was shed or pulled out. When glass is fractured, we can determine the direction of the blow and what did the damage. We can take the smallest pieces of building materials and figure out if they are insulation, fiber glass, building tile, bricks, cement blocks, etc.
“It’s amazing how the smallest clues can end up yielding so much information and making such a big difference in cases,” says Cary Oien, chief of the unit.
Here are some more details about the work of the unit:
The people. Highly professional and well-schooled. Along with Oien, the 18-person staff includes: forensic examiners who do the evidence comparisons, write reports, and testify in court … physical scientists who prepare and process the evidence … and a geologist who specializes in mineralogy and soil comparisons.
Tools and techniques. For soil, a technique called “x-ray diffraction” is used. For glass, it’s the glass refractive index measurement (yes, “GRIM” for short). For fiber, we use tools like the microspectrophotometer and infrared spectrophotometer to discriminate between colors and types of polymers (polyester vs. wool, for example). And of course, there are plenty of powerful microscopes on hand.
Cases. More than we can name. But including: 9/11, the D.C. snipers, the ’01 anthrax attacks, O.J. Simpson, and plenty of violent crimes and kidnappings.
Final words. “We’re all about using science to solve crimes,” says Oien. “But there is a very personal side to what we do. Some of the cases we’re involved in—whether it’s a missing child or a brutal murder—are heart wrenching. It’s a great feeling when our analysis helps take a dangerous criminal off the streets. That’s what makes every day here interesting and worthwhile.”
Thanks to the FBI
Now imagine you’re the FBI agent trying desperately to solve the case, but with no sign of the missing 5-year-old and little evidence to go on. Your prime suspect is the maintenance man at the apartment complex where the child lived. In his car you find tiny bits of hair and clothing fibers. Will this evidence be your link to the missing child, the break you need to solve the investigation?
In this case…as in many cases like it before and since…the answer was yes—thanks to the work of forensic experts in our FBI Laboratory. After careful analysis, our scientists found that the hairs were highly similar to the missing girl’s and that the fibers were no different from those on a rabbit hair coat worn by the child’s mother. Even though the 5-year-old was never found, this trace evidence—as we call it because it’s small and easily transferred—played a key role in putting the killer behind bars.
Each year, some 10,000 bits of this kind of evidence—shards of glass, strands of hair and fur, paint chips, soil clods, feathers, rocks and minerals, building materials of all kinds, you name it—come pouring into what we call our Trace Evidence Unit on the third floor of our FBI Lab in rural Virginia, courtesy of not just FBI investigators but also any law enforcement agency nationwide looking for help in a case.
There, it is compared, contrasted, and analyzed every which way for whatever clues may lie hidden, usually invisible to the naked eye. A lot can be learned in the process.
Just a few examples: We can tell if a strand of hair is dyed or burned; whether it’s from an animal or human being; what part of the body it’s from; and whether it was shed or pulled out. When glass is fractured, we can determine the direction of the blow and what did the damage. We can take the smallest pieces of building materials and figure out if they are insulation, fiber glass, building tile, bricks, cement blocks, etc.
“It’s amazing how the smallest clues can end up yielding so much information and making such a big difference in cases,” says Cary Oien, chief of the unit.
Here are some more details about the work of the unit:
The people. Highly professional and well-schooled. Along with Oien, the 18-person staff includes: forensic examiners who do the evidence comparisons, write reports, and testify in court … physical scientists who prepare and process the evidence … and a geologist who specializes in mineralogy and soil comparisons.
Tools and techniques. For soil, a technique called “x-ray diffraction” is used. For glass, it’s the glass refractive index measurement (yes, “GRIM” for short). For fiber, we use tools like the microspectrophotometer and infrared spectrophotometer to discriminate between colors and types of polymers (polyester vs. wool, for example). And of course, there are plenty of powerful microscopes on hand.
Cases. More than we can name. But including: 9/11, the D.C. snipers, the ’01 anthrax attacks, O.J. Simpson, and plenty of violent crimes and kidnappings.
Final words. “We’re all about using science to solve crimes,” says Oien. “But there is a very personal side to what we do. Some of the cases we’re involved in—whether it’s a missing child or a brutal murder—are heart wrenching. It’s a great feeling when our analysis helps take a dangerous criminal off the streets. That’s what makes every day here interesting and worthwhile.”
Thanks to the FBI
Searching for Carmie Guido
I had a reader ask me for some information on a relative of theirs that has passed on that they thought might have a mob association. The terms of the association are unclear. The gentleman's name in question is Carmie Guido. Carmie ran a restaurant on Taylor Street called Guido's. Apparently, you had to place your order through an intercom system.
If anybody has any information that they can share, please pass it along.
Thanks!
If anybody has any information that they can share, please pass it along.
Thanks!
Yes Your Honor
As readers first learned on Sunday, The Shark Attacks segment was going to be curtailed so as to not be too specific or as spicy as it had been since the start of the Family Secrets Mob Trial. The reason is that the author of those posts, Joseph Lopez, who represents Frank Calabrese Sr. in court, had been ordered by Judge Zagel to temper his comments. It is my understanding that the government had made that request to the judge in closed chambers last week. Although, I give them an open invitation to share with me their observations on the proceedings as well. Who knew that anybody even read this site? ;-)
Since that post on Sunday, I have had a handful of attorneys contact me to express their concern on the ruling as matter of First Amendment rights. A few sites that they shared with me that I will pass along include the First Amendment Center and a trial transcript regarding a case in which the judge had a similar reaction. As long time readers will know, if you have something to share, I am glad to pass it along to all of the readers that stop by here. In fact, the majority of my links are ones suggested to me by those in law enforcement and the media.
In terms of coverage of the trial, when I spoke with Shark over the weekend, we have both been impressed with in depth reporting from The Tribune and the Sun Times. In particular, Jeff Coen and Steve Warmbir. If you have been visiting my site for anytime, you will know that I have been a fan of both men for a while. Personally, I also love that Steve has even created a blog himself that has an abundance of additional information that does not make into the regular newspaper. It is an excellent marriage of using the new media to support and expand upon the established media. There is no doubt that we are in good hands with both papers to keep us informed all summer long. If my schedule permits, I hope to even attend the trial one day myself to give a first hand account.
Since that post on Sunday, I have had a handful of attorneys contact me to express their concern on the ruling as matter of First Amendment rights. A few sites that they shared with me that I will pass along include the First Amendment Center and a trial transcript regarding a case in which the judge had a similar reaction. As long time readers will know, if you have something to share, I am glad to pass it along to all of the readers that stop by here. In fact, the majority of my links are ones suggested to me by those in law enforcement and the media.
In terms of coverage of the trial, when I spoke with Shark over the weekend, we have both been impressed with in depth reporting from The Tribune and the Sun Times. In particular, Jeff Coen and Steve Warmbir. If you have been visiting my site for anytime, you will know that I have been a fan of both men for a while. Personally, I also love that Steve has even created a blog himself that has an abundance of additional information that does not make into the regular newspaper. It is an excellent marriage of using the new media to support and expand upon the established media. There is no doubt that we are in good hands with both papers to keep us informed all summer long. If my schedule permits, I hope to even attend the trial one day myself to give a first hand account.
Has "The Shark" had his teeth pulled?
The federal judge presiding over the Family Secrets mob case in Chicago has privately told Joseph "The Shark" Lopez -- the defense lawyer for reputed Outfit hit man Frank Calabrese Sr. -- to stop allowing his critiques of the trial to be posted on an Internet blog.
Lopez, among the more colorful defense attorneys at the trial, called a witness in one blog posting "boring," a doofus and -- using Italian slang -- an ass.
U.S. District Judge James Zagel was not amused and ordered Lopez to stop e-mailing his entries to the blog, chicagosyndicate.blogspot.com. The judge recently took the action behind closed doors, according to sources familiar with the matter.
Friday, Lopez, among the more media-friendly lawyers in the case, took the uncharacteristic step of having no comment. "I can't talk about it because it's under seal," Lopez said.
In general, attorneys are prohibited during trial from making statements outside of court that could have a prejudicial effect on the case.
Last Tuesday, Lopez went to great lengths -- before telling the news media about his client's reaction to the day's testimony -- to say he would not comment on specific witnesses. Not that Lopez's short-lived blog had only negative things to say.
Lopez noted the judge was "doing an excellent job of moving [the] trial along at a good pace."
He gave kudos to one of the prosecutors on the government team, noting tangentially, "he is quite a sailor." He criticized another as "monotone and dry with no emotion."
And Lopez was kind to a fellow defense attorney, Rick Halprin, who represents reputed top mobster Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo. In one cross-examination, "Halprin was great as usual," Lopez wrote.
When asked about the compliment on the blog, Halprin said, "While I agreed with the sentiment, it's still inappropriate."
"The only opinion that counts is the jury's," Halprin said. Thanks to Steve Warmbir
FBI Director Meets with Privacy and Civil Liberties Groups
FBI Director Robert S. Mueller, III, met today with representatives of several privacy and civil liberties groups in a continuation of discussions surrounding the Bureau’s use of National Security Letters.
The leaders and representatives of advocacy groups had a chance to discuss with Director Mueller and the FBI’s General Counsel, Valerie Caproni, the Bureau’s continuing initiatives to strengthen internal controls designed to protect privacy and civil liberties.
Today’s meeting is part of a continuing dialogue aimed at reaching out to subject matter experts, including critics, who may give added value to the development of internal processes. The FBI’s goal is to maintain compliance with rules and law while effectively carrying out the FBI’s mission to deter and prevent terrorism. At the initial meeting in March, Bureau officials discussed the findings released by the Department of Justice Inspector General regarding the FBI’s use of National Security Letters and the actions taken by the FBI based on the Inspector General’s recommendations. At a follow up meeting, privacy groups were provided the draft proposal for improved internal guidelines. The advocacy groups provided valuable suggestions, many of which were incorporated into the final product.
“These are complex issues, and it’s important that we have an open and ongoing dialogue,” said Director Mueller. “We have worked hard to develop more transparency around our development of policy where privacy and civil liberties are concerned. We may not agree with the advocacy groups on every point, but the dialogue is valuable and their advice is important to us.”
The leaders and representatives of advocacy groups had a chance to discuss with Director Mueller and the FBI’s General Counsel, Valerie Caproni, the Bureau’s continuing initiatives to strengthen internal controls designed to protect privacy and civil liberties.
Today’s meeting is part of a continuing dialogue aimed at reaching out to subject matter experts, including critics, who may give added value to the development of internal processes. The FBI’s goal is to maintain compliance with rules and law while effectively carrying out the FBI’s mission to deter and prevent terrorism. At the initial meeting in March, Bureau officials discussed the findings released by the Department of Justice Inspector General regarding the FBI’s use of National Security Letters and the actions taken by the FBI based on the Inspector General’s recommendations. At a follow up meeting, privacy groups were provided the draft proposal for improved internal guidelines. The advocacy groups provided valuable suggestions, many of which were incorporated into the final product.
“These are complex issues, and it’s important that we have an open and ongoing dialogue,” said Director Mueller. “We have worked hard to develop more transparency around our development of policy where privacy and civil liberties are concerned. We may not agree with the advocacy groups on every point, but the dialogue is valuable and their advice is important to us.”
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Judge Muzzling Attorneys at Mob Trial?
Attorney Joseph "The Shark" Lopez, who is representing Frank Calabrese Sr. in the Chicago Family Secrets Mob Trial, has agreed to provide us with updates on his observations and thoughts regarding the various court proceedings.
Today, Shark indicates that Judge Zagel has ordered him to tone down his comments to the media.
Today, Shark indicates that Judge Zagel has ordered him to tone down his comments to the media.
"Local court rules do not allow me to comment on the witnesses in this case. Somehow my first amendment got lost in the fray. Frank (Calabrese) Jr. is on stand, as Jeff Coen wrote, he made all kinds of allegations. The tapes will be played next week. It should be an intersting week. I can't wait until cross examination. At least three lawyers will ask him questions. It's sure to be a great week. Judge Zagel is moving the trial along and the prosecutors are moving witnesses in and out. As usual, I asked a gazillion questions last week. This week should be the same. Stay Tuned." - Shark
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Mob Testimony Better Than Any TV Drama
Friends of ours: Frank Calabrese Sr., Angelo "The Hook" LaPietra
Frank Calabrese Jr. says he was just a Holy Cross High School student when his father got him started in the family business by assigning him to help his Uncle Nick make the rounds to collect all the quarters taken in from peep shows at half a dozen adult bookstores.
The bookstores were owned by a guy named Vito, who got the idea the Calabreses were skimming -- which they were -- and decided to paint the quarters to help him get an honest count. Frank Calabrese Jr.'s father, alleged mob hit man Frank Calabrese Sr., didn't appreciate the tactic and confronted Vito, slapping him and telling him "not to worry," Frank Jr. told a federal jury Tuesday.
Soon thereafter, "Vito left and couldn't be found," said Frank Jr., who in short order was helping his "Uncle Joe" run the bookstores.
You hear for years about the big Family Secrets investigation of the Chicago Outfit and how a son helped make the case against his father by secretly tape-recording their conversations. You hear it so long it starts to become background noise, and then the son steps into the courtroom and you suddenly are witness to more real drama than any television show about the mob has ever captured.
Frank Jr. hobbled to the witness stand with the help of a cane in his left hand, necessitated by multiple sclerosis, with which he was diagnosed in 2000.
He is a big man with broad shoulders and a shaved head, imposing despite his illness and eyeglasses. He wore a striped golf shirt, which was untucked. And he is the spitting image of his father, who watched Frank Jr.'s first hour of testimony with seeming bemusement, a thin smile on his face that one could imagine concealed an urge to get up and slap his 47-year-old son. Frank Jr. said that's exactly what Frank Sr. did on more than one occasion after he stole and spent between $600,000 and $800,000 that he took from one of his father's hiding spots in the early 1990s.
Frank Jr. said he invested about $200,000 of the money into opening a restaurant, La Luce at Lake and Ogden, and a lesser amount on the Bella Luna Cafe on Dearborn. But he said he spent most of it on vacations and drugs. "I blew all the money. I just spent it all wildly," he testified, occasionally interrupting to take a swig from a bottle of Ice Mountain water.
His father figured out what had happened and came to Frank Jr.'s home in Elmwood Park to confront him. "He grabbed me by the arm and walked me down the street," Frank Jr. testified, admitting that he started to cry. "When I denied it, he cracked me in the head with an open hand."
After Frank Jr. confessed, his father told him he would have to find a way to pay the money back, because it actually belonged to mob boss Angelo "The Hook" LaPietra.
Soon thereafter, Frank Sr. went to the restaurant to check on his son and found he wasn't there. According to Frank Jr., his father then phoned him and instructed him to meet him outside a White Hen in Elmwood Park.
From there they drove to a garage in Elmwood Park where Frank Jr. said his father kept cars owned in other people's names that he used for his Outfit work.
Once inside the garage, "my father cracked me and started yelling at me," Frank Jr. testified. Then, Frank Jr. said, "He pulled out a gun and stuck it in my face and told me: 'I'd rather have you dead than disobey me.' "
"I started crying and hugging him and kissing him," Frank Jr. told the jury. "Help me. Help me," Frank Jr. said he pleaded. "I want to do the right thing."
His father relented. On the way back to the restaurant, though, Frank Sr. "punched me in the face . . . numerous times," Frank Jr. said.
Assistant U.S. Attorney John Scully cut off the line of questioning at that point and took it another direction, though likely to return to it in the days ahead as the younger Calabrese continues his testimony. Frank Jr. then told stories of the first two times he accompanied his dad on his mob enforcement rounds, including helping with the attempted firebombing of an Elmwood Park garage.
It is in the nature of men to want to bring their sons into the family business, I suppose, and therefore illogical to think it would be any different when the family business is crime. But logic has nothing to do with it.
Thanks to Mark Brown
Frank Calabrese Jr. says he was just a Holy Cross High School student when his father got him started in the family business by assigning him to help his Uncle Nick make the rounds to collect all the quarters taken in from peep shows at half a dozen adult bookstores.
The bookstores were owned by a guy named Vito, who got the idea the Calabreses were skimming -- which they were -- and decided to paint the quarters to help him get an honest count. Frank Calabrese Jr.'s father, alleged mob hit man Frank Calabrese Sr., didn't appreciate the tactic and confronted Vito, slapping him and telling him "not to worry," Frank Jr. told a federal jury Tuesday.
Soon thereafter, "Vito left and couldn't be found," said Frank Jr., who in short order was helping his "Uncle Joe" run the bookstores.
You hear for years about the big Family Secrets investigation of the Chicago Outfit and how a son helped make the case against his father by secretly tape-recording their conversations. You hear it so long it starts to become background noise, and then the son steps into the courtroom and you suddenly are witness to more real drama than any television show about the mob has ever captured.
Frank Jr. hobbled to the witness stand with the help of a cane in his left hand, necessitated by multiple sclerosis, with which he was diagnosed in 2000.
He is a big man with broad shoulders and a shaved head, imposing despite his illness and eyeglasses. He wore a striped golf shirt, which was untucked. And he is the spitting image of his father, who watched Frank Jr.'s first hour of testimony with seeming bemusement, a thin smile on his face that one could imagine concealed an urge to get up and slap his 47-year-old son. Frank Jr. said that's exactly what Frank Sr. did on more than one occasion after he stole and spent between $600,000 and $800,000 that he took from one of his father's hiding spots in the early 1990s.
Frank Jr. said he invested about $200,000 of the money into opening a restaurant, La Luce at Lake and Ogden, and a lesser amount on the Bella Luna Cafe on Dearborn. But he said he spent most of it on vacations and drugs. "I blew all the money. I just spent it all wildly," he testified, occasionally interrupting to take a swig from a bottle of Ice Mountain water.
His father figured out what had happened and came to Frank Jr.'s home in Elmwood Park to confront him. "He grabbed me by the arm and walked me down the street," Frank Jr. testified, admitting that he started to cry. "When I denied it, he cracked me in the head with an open hand."
After Frank Jr. confessed, his father told him he would have to find a way to pay the money back, because it actually belonged to mob boss Angelo "The Hook" LaPietra.
Soon thereafter, Frank Sr. went to the restaurant to check on his son and found he wasn't there. According to Frank Jr., his father then phoned him and instructed him to meet him outside a White Hen in Elmwood Park.
From there they drove to a garage in Elmwood Park where Frank Jr. said his father kept cars owned in other people's names that he used for his Outfit work.
Once inside the garage, "my father cracked me and started yelling at me," Frank Jr. testified. Then, Frank Jr. said, "He pulled out a gun and stuck it in my face and told me: 'I'd rather have you dead than disobey me.' "
"I started crying and hugging him and kissing him," Frank Jr. told the jury. "Help me. Help me," Frank Jr. said he pleaded. "I want to do the right thing."
His father relented. On the way back to the restaurant, though, Frank Sr. "punched me in the face . . . numerous times," Frank Jr. said.
Assistant U.S. Attorney John Scully cut off the line of questioning at that point and took it another direction, though likely to return to it in the days ahead as the younger Calabrese continues his testimony. Frank Jr. then told stories of the first two times he accompanied his dad on his mob enforcement rounds, including helping with the attempted firebombing of an Elmwood Park garage.
It is in the nature of men to want to bring their sons into the family business, I suppose, and therefore illogical to think it would be any different when the family business is crime. But logic has nothing to do with it.
Thanks to Mark Brown
Friday, July 06, 2007
America's Most Wanted and The Chicago Syndicate for 7-7-07
America's Most Wanted and The Chicago Syndicate have partnered on AMW's upcoming episodes for Fox.
Jimmy Trindade Missing: Jimmy Trindade was a “man’s man” who loved taking long fishing trips off the coast of Florida . But last year, during one of his regular voyages—he mysteriously disappeared. Police have offered a number of possibilities as to what could’ve happened—everything from Jimmy falling overboard to a case of modern day pirates. And now, his family and friends have asked for AMW to help. Tune in this week and join the search for Jimmy Trindade.
Riyad Mohamad Hamdan: Riyad Hamdan is a convicted sex offender who police say was apprehended back in 1994. But now, they say he’s violated his parole and could be molesting children again. This week, we need your help tracking him down before anyone else is hurt.
Kevin Murden: Police say an altercation in a Harrisburg , Pa. led to a full-fledged bar brawl. In the midst of which Kevin Murden allegedly shot a man. Now, months later, police are still on his trail.
David Block: According to cops, in 2002, David Block gave a 14-year-old a spiked drink and committed a horrible crime. A friend of the victim’s family, Block accompanied them during a Florida vacation. But while the family was away, Block allegedly raped their teenage daughter. Now, five years later, he’s still on the lam. This week, we hope to put an end to his run.
Elias Urioste: Cops say Elias Urioste committed a brutal crime last winter. He allegedly attacked a New Mexico man; shooting him, forcing him to drink gasoline, and then setting him on fire. Urioste is wanted for first-degree murder and this week, and with your help this week, we can haul him in.
Chanel Petro-Nixon: Do you remember what it was like to be 16? It's supposed to be one of the best years of a girl's life. But last year, Chanel Petro-Nixon's glory days were cut short. She disappeared on June 18th, and four days later, her body was found in a trash bag in the middle of her bustling Brooklyn neighborhood. Now, a year after the murder-- nobody's forgotten and we're not giving up until we find her killer.
Mark Petersimes: Petersimes is on the run after police say he broke off his monitoring device and busted out of a Dallas halfway-house. Considering his past sexual assaults convictions, cops think he has the potential to strike again. This week, we’ll do everything we can to bring him down.
Jennifer Nielsen: 22-year-old Jennifer Nielsen was a paper delivery girl for USA Today. She was also about to give birth to her first born child. But last month, her life came to a tragic end when she was brutally stabbed to death. Police found a knife at the scene but have been unable to identify a suspect. We’re banking on this week being the week somebody comes forward.
Mike Torres: Miguel “Mike” Torres and his girlfriend Barbara seemed like the perfect match. But according to police, Barbara had no idea that Torres was waiting until after they were married to reveal his dark, and violent side.
Jerry Ambrozuk: Ambrozuk spent 24 years on the run after allegedly crashing a rental plane in Montana and leaving his girlfriend to die. America ’s Most Wanted’s longest running fugitive was captured at his home in Texas last year, and now we have the update on his trial and the verdict.
Kelly Nolan: Kelly Nolan disappeared from a Madison , Wis. bar only a few weeks ago. Now family friends have a lot of questions, and this week, we’re going to do our best to give them some answers.
Jimmy Trindade Missing: Jimmy Trindade was a “man’s man” who loved taking long fishing trips off the coast of Florida . But last year, during one of his regular voyages—he mysteriously disappeared. Police have offered a number of possibilities as to what could’ve happened—everything from Jimmy falling overboard to a case of modern day pirates. And now, his family and friends have asked for AMW to help. Tune in this week and join the search for Jimmy Trindade. Riyad Mohamad Hamdan: Riyad Hamdan is a convicted sex offender who police say was apprehended back in 1994. But now, they say he’s violated his parole and could be molesting children again. This week, we need your help tracking him down before anyone else is hurt.
Kevin Murden: Police say an altercation in a Harrisburg , Pa. led to a full-fledged bar brawl. In the midst of which Kevin Murden allegedly shot a man. Now, months later, police are still on his trail.
David Block: According to cops, in 2002, David Block gave a 14-year-old a spiked drink and committed a horrible crime. A friend of the victim’s family, Block accompanied them during a Florida vacation. But while the family was away, Block allegedly raped their teenage daughter. Now, five years later, he’s still on the lam. This week, we hope to put an end to his run.
Elias Urioste: Cops say Elias Urioste committed a brutal crime last winter. He allegedly attacked a New Mexico man; shooting him, forcing him to drink gasoline, and then setting him on fire. Urioste is wanted for first-degree murder and this week, and with your help this week, we can haul him in.
Chanel Petro-Nixon: Do you remember what it was like to be 16? It's supposed to be one of the best years of a girl's life. But last year, Chanel Petro-Nixon's glory days were cut short. She disappeared on June 18th, and four days later, her body was found in a trash bag in the middle of her bustling Brooklyn neighborhood. Now, a year after the murder-- nobody's forgotten and we're not giving up until we find her killer.
Mark Petersimes: Petersimes is on the run after police say he broke off his monitoring device and busted out of a Dallas halfway-house. Considering his past sexual assaults convictions, cops think he has the potential to strike again. This week, we’ll do everything we can to bring him down.
Jennifer Nielsen: 22-year-old Jennifer Nielsen was a paper delivery girl for USA Today. She was also about to give birth to her first born child. But last month, her life came to a tragic end when she was brutally stabbed to death. Police found a knife at the scene but have been unable to identify a suspect. We’re banking on this week being the week somebody comes forward.
Mike Torres: Miguel “Mike” Torres and his girlfriend Barbara seemed like the perfect match. But according to police, Barbara had no idea that Torres was waiting until after they were married to reveal his dark, and violent side.
Jerry Ambrozuk: Ambrozuk spent 24 years on the run after allegedly crashing a rental plane in Montana and leaving his girlfriend to die. America ’s Most Wanted’s longest running fugitive was captured at his home in Texas last year, and now we have the update on his trial and the verdict.
Kelly Nolan: Kelly Nolan disappeared from a Madison , Wis. bar only a few weeks ago. Now family friends have a lot of questions, and this week, we’re going to do our best to give them some answers.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Judge Throws Attorney Out of Court at Mob Trial
Robert Cooley was a crooked lawyer with mob connections. Almost 20 years ago, he turned informant and helped send judges, aldermen and mobsters to prison. He showed up Monday at Chicago's current mob trial and was asked to leave. The judge did not explain why he asked Cooley to leave the courtroom but clearly given Cooley's role in past outfit trials he might be a distraction for some witnesses as well as the five defendants.
When Cooley appeared at the federal courthouse Monday afternoon, he had a movie producer in tow. The former federal informant, disbarred attorney and author of a tell-all book about Chicago's mob said the planned film should be his long-awaited financial reward: "Now it is time to reap the harvest," Cooley said. "I worked hard to do what I did and got no credit before. Now I think I will with the movie."
During the 1970's and 80's, Cooley was a self-described mafia "mechanic" or fixer of court cases. He bribed judges, court clerks and cops to keep his outfit clients out of jail. Later, as a federal witness, his testimony anchored as many as nine trials that exposed the mob's stranglehold on Chicago's city hall and the courts.
Cooley caused a stir Monday afternoon when he entered the courtroom where five alleged outfit bosses -- men he knew from the past -- are facing decades-old charges in the "Family Secrets" trial.
"I was never close to think of those," Cooley said. "I knew who they were and they ran in the same circles as I did but they knew who I was and there are no surprises. They pretty much put the mob out of business a while back and I don't think it is running."
Even though his mob connections date back thirty years, Cooley said he was not asked to be a witness in "Family Secrets."
He said the men on trial are not -- as alleged -- the outfit's modern day bosses. That person, he says, remains in the background, but still pulling the strings in Chicago. "There's somebody right now who has been run the city for a long time and I'm not talking about Mayor Daley but hopefully his day will come," Cooley said.
Cooley said he's living in California now and was never hidden by the federal witness protection program.
No word on when the movie based on Cooley's book might be filmed or released. It still in the research stage.
Thanks to Charles Thomas
When Cooley appeared at the federal courthouse Monday afternoon, he had a movie producer in tow. The former federal informant, disbarred attorney and author of a tell-all book about Chicago's mob said the planned film should be his long-awaited financial reward: "Now it is time to reap the harvest," Cooley said. "I worked hard to do what I did and got no credit before. Now I think I will with the movie."
During the 1970's and 80's, Cooley was a self-described mafia "mechanic" or fixer of court cases. He bribed judges, court clerks and cops to keep his outfit clients out of jail. Later, as a federal witness, his testimony anchored as many as nine trials that exposed the mob's stranglehold on Chicago's city hall and the courts.
Cooley caused a stir Monday afternoon when he entered the courtroom where five alleged outfit bosses -- men he knew from the past -- are facing decades-old charges in the "Family Secrets" trial.
"I was never close to think of those," Cooley said. "I knew who they were and they ran in the same circles as I did but they knew who I was and there are no surprises. They pretty much put the mob out of business a while back and I don't think it is running."
Even though his mob connections date back thirty years, Cooley said he was not asked to be a witness in "Family Secrets."
He said the men on trial are not -- as alleged -- the outfit's modern day bosses. That person, he says, remains in the background, but still pulling the strings in Chicago. "There's somebody right now who has been run the city for a long time and I'm not talking about Mayor Daley but hopefully his day will come," Cooley said.
Cooley said he's living in California now and was never hidden by the federal witness protection program.
No word on when the movie based on Cooley's book might be filmed or released. It still in the research stage.
Thanks to Charles Thomas
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Mobster's Son Testifies Against Dad at Trial
Frank Calabrese Jr. had barely introduced himself and testified that he lettered in football at Holy Cross High School before his father sneered and leaned over to whisper into his lawyer's ear.
The start of his testimony Tuesday was one of the most anticipated moments of the trial -- code named Family Secrets because defendant Frank Calabrese Sr.'s son and brother had done the unthinkable, squealing on a reputed mob brother and blood relative.
The 47-year-old Calabrese Jr., stricken with multiple sclerosis, limped into court on a cane, taking the witness stand a mere 10 yards from his father. Even though Calabrese Sr. swiveled his chair for a direct look at his son, the two did not appear to make eye contact.
He was on the stand for just 45 minutes before jurors were sent home for the holiday, but Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully led the younger Calabrese through a quick personal history: how he joined the family's mob business as just a high schooler and now operates a pizza joint. He said he's been living near Phoenix running a strip-mall restaurant that serves pizza "Chicago style."
The balding Calabrese testified in a white casual shirt with thin green stripes, his remaining hair buzzed close. He leaned into the microphone to answer each question and occasionally paused to take sips from a water bottle.
Calabrese testified he was a teenager when he joined the 26th Street crew, collecting quarters from peep-show booths in mob-controlled pornography shops with his uncle Nicholas. It is Nicholas Calabrese, Frank Calabrese Sr.'s brother, who is expected later in the trial to implicate his brother in as many as 13 decades-old gangland slayings.
Eventually, Calabrese Jr. said, he graduated to keeping the books -- gambling, juice-loan and street-tax records -- with his father.
Once, Calabrese said, his father took him along when he slapped around an associate nicknamed "Peachy" for spending Outfit gambling money. Another time, his father had him use a flare to ignite kerosene against the garage of someone who wasn't following orders. "He wasn't taking care of his obligations to us," Calabrese said.
The elder Calabrese, 70, sat with a sarcastic smile through much of the testimony, talking repeatedly to his lawyer, Joseph Lopez. His son appeared to focus mostly on the prosecutor asking questions from a few feet away. In the son's brief time Tuesday on the witness stand, no mention was made of the hidden recording device Calabrese wore to secretly tape conversations with his father while the two were imprisoned in Michigan in the 1990s.
That promises to be the highlight of the son's testimony in the trial's coming days. But Calabrese revealed how his relationship with his father soured.
Calabrese said he was moving from job to job and using powder cocaine when he went to one of his father's hiding spots and stole $200,000 in cash to help open a Lake Street restaurant. Later, he went back for hundreds of thousands of dollars more, he said. "I blew all the money," he said. "I just would spend it all wildly."
On discovering the thefts, his father slapped him and threatened him, Calabrese testified. At one point, his father drove him to an Elmwood Park garage where Outfit "work cars" were kept. "He pulled out a gun and stuck it in my face and said, 'I'd rather have you dead than disobey me,'" Calabrese said. "I started crying. I started hugging and kissing him.
"I said, 'Help me. Help me do the right thing,'" he said.
After court Tuesday, Lopez, the elder Calabrese's lawyer, told reporters that his client had not been fazed by the son's testimony. "He's happy to see his son," Lopez said.
Asked why the elder Calabrese appeared to be smiling during parts of his son's testimony, Lopez replied, "He's a happy-go-lucky fellow." But another government witness Tuesday painted a starkly different portrait of the elder Calabrese. James Stolfe, the soft-spoken co-founder of the well-known Connie's Pizza restaurant chain, said he made "extortion payments" to Frank Calabrese Sr. and the Chicago Outfit for 20 years beginning in the 1980s.
Stolfe said he sold his 1962 Oldsmobile Starfire to buy his first Connie's location on West 26th Street near Chinatown, and he operated for nearly two decades before the mob paid a visit. Stolfe said he thought the two men, one large and one small, were salesmen, but he quickly learned differently.
Stolfe didn't have time to talk, he said he told them. "They said, 'Find time,'" he said.
The two demanded $300,000 -- or else, Stolfe testified. "They said that it was no joke, and if I didn't pay that I was gonna get hurt," he said.
Stolfe said he went to Calabrese, whom he knew from the Bridgeport neighborhood where the two had grown up, to intercede on his behalf. Strangely enough, Stolfe said, Calabrese had just been to his office for the first time in years, the only hint in Tuesday's testimony that Calabrese was in on the extortion from the beginning.
Calabrese said he would see what he could do, Stolfe said, and soon said the payment "only" had to be $100,000. Fearing that he could be beaten or his business burned down, Stolfe said, he agreed to pay. He said he handed over the first payment of $50,000 cash to Calabrese.
That prompted the prosecutor to ask Stolfe if he saw Calabrese in the courtroom. Calabrese, in a gray jacket over a black shirt, didn't stand up but stuck up a hand and waved toward the witness stand as Stolfe pointed him out.
The white-haired Stolfe, 67, said he confided in only his close associate, Donald "Captain D" DiFazio, about the payoffs, keeping even his wife in the dark.
Stolfe said he eventually put Calabrese on the payroll as a "spotter," ostensibly to keeptrack of pizza delivery trucks. In reality, it was to hide the monthly payoffs of about $1,000.
Stolfe acknowledged Tuesday that he had lied to a grand jury investigating Calabrese in 1990, concealing the nature of the payoffs to Calabrese and his relationship with the reputed mobster. He told jurors Tuesday that he had been intimidated by Calabrese. Stolfe said Calabrese even invited himself on his family vacations.
On cross-examination, attorney Lopez tried to portray the two as pals. "Did anyone put a gun to your head and say you had to go play handball with him?" Lopez asked.
The attorney pointed out that when Stolfe halted the payoffs in 2002 when the Family Secrets investigation became public, no one burned down a Connie's Pizza restaurant. Prosecutors also called DiFazio to the stand, who testified that he carried the payoffs to the mob for years. For the final payoffs, DiFazio said, he gave the cash-filled envelopes to Frank Calabrese Jr., who was already wearing a wire for the feds.
DiFazio, testifying with a gravelly voice and heavy Chicago accent, said he is still director of special events for Connie's. "I'm supposed to be at Taste of Chicago," he said.
He said he still lives in Bridgeport and described each mob figure he testified about as "another tough guy."
He said he was once confronted by Anthony "Tony the Hatch" Chiaramonti when Connie's sought to open a location in Lyons. Those plans were scrapped, DiFazio said. "The name speaks for itself," he said of Chiaramonti, who was gunned down at a chicken restaurant in the suburb in 2001.
On cross-examination, Lopez sometimes made small talk with DiFazio, who wore an expensive-looking suit. The attorney, who had exchanged his trademark pink socks for red ones Tuesday to match a blazing red tie, said he had heard DiFazio is a sharp dresser.
"You were a tough guy, too, weren't you?" Lopez asked. "The whole neighborhood was filled with tough guys."
DiFazio finally gave in. "Absolutely," he said.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
The start of his testimony Tuesday was one of the most anticipated moments of the trial -- code named Family Secrets because defendant Frank Calabrese Sr.'s son and brother had done the unthinkable, squealing on a reputed mob brother and blood relative.
The 47-year-old Calabrese Jr., stricken with multiple sclerosis, limped into court on a cane, taking the witness stand a mere 10 yards from his father. Even though Calabrese Sr. swiveled his chair for a direct look at his son, the two did not appear to make eye contact.
He was on the stand for just 45 minutes before jurors were sent home for the holiday, but Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully led the younger Calabrese through a quick personal history: how he joined the family's mob business as just a high schooler and now operates a pizza joint. He said he's been living near Phoenix running a strip-mall restaurant that serves pizza "Chicago style."
The balding Calabrese testified in a white casual shirt with thin green stripes, his remaining hair buzzed close. He leaned into the microphone to answer each question and occasionally paused to take sips from a water bottle.
Calabrese testified he was a teenager when he joined the 26th Street crew, collecting quarters from peep-show booths in mob-controlled pornography shops with his uncle Nicholas. It is Nicholas Calabrese, Frank Calabrese Sr.'s brother, who is expected later in the trial to implicate his brother in as many as 13 decades-old gangland slayings.
Eventually, Calabrese Jr. said, he graduated to keeping the books -- gambling, juice-loan and street-tax records -- with his father.
Once, Calabrese said, his father took him along when he slapped around an associate nicknamed "Peachy" for spending Outfit gambling money. Another time, his father had him use a flare to ignite kerosene against the garage of someone who wasn't following orders. "He wasn't taking care of his obligations to us," Calabrese said.
The elder Calabrese, 70, sat with a sarcastic smile through much of the testimony, talking repeatedly to his lawyer, Joseph Lopez. His son appeared to focus mostly on the prosecutor asking questions from a few feet away. In the son's brief time Tuesday on the witness stand, no mention was made of the hidden recording device Calabrese wore to secretly tape conversations with his father while the two were imprisoned in Michigan in the 1990s.
That promises to be the highlight of the son's testimony in the trial's coming days. But Calabrese revealed how his relationship with his father soured.
Calabrese said he was moving from job to job and using powder cocaine when he went to one of his father's hiding spots and stole $200,000 in cash to help open a Lake Street restaurant. Later, he went back for hundreds of thousands of dollars more, he said. "I blew all the money," he said. "I just would spend it all wildly."
On discovering the thefts, his father slapped him and threatened him, Calabrese testified. At one point, his father drove him to an Elmwood Park garage where Outfit "work cars" were kept. "He pulled out a gun and stuck it in my face and said, 'I'd rather have you dead than disobey me,'" Calabrese said. "I started crying. I started hugging and kissing him.
"I said, 'Help me. Help me do the right thing,'" he said.
After court Tuesday, Lopez, the elder Calabrese's lawyer, told reporters that his client had not been fazed by the son's testimony. "He's happy to see his son," Lopez said.
Asked why the elder Calabrese appeared to be smiling during parts of his son's testimony, Lopez replied, "He's a happy-go-lucky fellow." But another government witness Tuesday painted a starkly different portrait of the elder Calabrese. James Stolfe, the soft-spoken co-founder of the well-known Connie's Pizza restaurant chain, said he made "extortion payments" to Frank Calabrese Sr. and the Chicago Outfit for 20 years beginning in the 1980s.
Stolfe said he sold his 1962 Oldsmobile Starfire to buy his first Connie's location on West 26th Street near Chinatown, and he operated for nearly two decades before the mob paid a visit. Stolfe said he thought the two men, one large and one small, were salesmen, but he quickly learned differently.
Stolfe didn't have time to talk, he said he told them. "They said, 'Find time,'" he said.
The two demanded $300,000 -- or else, Stolfe testified. "They said that it was no joke, and if I didn't pay that I was gonna get hurt," he said.
Stolfe said he went to Calabrese, whom he knew from the Bridgeport neighborhood where the two had grown up, to intercede on his behalf. Strangely enough, Stolfe said, Calabrese had just been to his office for the first time in years, the only hint in Tuesday's testimony that Calabrese was in on the extortion from the beginning.
Calabrese said he would see what he could do, Stolfe said, and soon said the payment "only" had to be $100,000. Fearing that he could be beaten or his business burned down, Stolfe said, he agreed to pay. He said he handed over the first payment of $50,000 cash to Calabrese.
That prompted the prosecutor to ask Stolfe if he saw Calabrese in the courtroom. Calabrese, in a gray jacket over a black shirt, didn't stand up but stuck up a hand and waved toward the witness stand as Stolfe pointed him out.
The white-haired Stolfe, 67, said he confided in only his close associate, Donald "Captain D" DiFazio, about the payoffs, keeping even his wife in the dark.
Stolfe said he eventually put Calabrese on the payroll as a "spotter," ostensibly to keeptrack of pizza delivery trucks. In reality, it was to hide the monthly payoffs of about $1,000.
Stolfe acknowledged Tuesday that he had lied to a grand jury investigating Calabrese in 1990, concealing the nature of the payoffs to Calabrese and his relationship with the reputed mobster. He told jurors Tuesday that he had been intimidated by Calabrese. Stolfe said Calabrese even invited himself on his family vacations.
On cross-examination, attorney Lopez tried to portray the two as pals. "Did anyone put a gun to your head and say you had to go play handball with him?" Lopez asked.
The attorney pointed out that when Stolfe halted the payoffs in 2002 when the Family Secrets investigation became public, no one burned down a Connie's Pizza restaurant. Prosecutors also called DiFazio to the stand, who testified that he carried the payoffs to the mob for years. For the final payoffs, DiFazio said, he gave the cash-filled envelopes to Frank Calabrese Jr., who was already wearing a wire for the feds.
DiFazio, testifying with a gravelly voice and heavy Chicago accent, said he is still director of special events for Connie's. "I'm supposed to be at Taste of Chicago," he said.
He said he still lives in Bridgeport and described each mob figure he testified about as "another tough guy."
He said he was once confronted by Anthony "Tony the Hatch" Chiaramonti when Connie's sought to open a location in Lyons. Those plans were scrapped, DiFazio said. "The name speaks for itself," he said of Chiaramonti, who was gunned down at a chicken restaurant in the suburb in 2001.
On cross-examination, Lopez sometimes made small talk with DiFazio, who wore an expensive-looking suit. The attorney, who had exchanged his trademark pink socks for red ones Tuesday to match a blazing red tie, said he had heard DiFazio is a sharp dresser.
"You were a tough guy, too, weren't you?" Lopez asked. "The whole neighborhood was filled with tough guys."
DiFazio finally gave in. "Absolutely," he said.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
Bookie Refuses to Testify in Court Against the Mob
A host of hit men, henchmen, burglars, gamblers and loan sharks who have crossed paths with the Chicago Outfit over the years are scheduled to testify at the Family Secrets mob trial, but at least one career bookie wants to take a pass.
Joel Glickman, 71, was taken into custody late Monday after defying an order from U.S. District Judge James Zagel to testify. Glickman had been slated to tell jurors that he paid between $1,300 and $2,000 a month in "street taxes" to defendant Frank Calabrese Sr. and other reputed mob figures to run his gambling operation.
Zagel reminded Glickman, who wore a black short-sleeve shirt unbuttoned at the neck, that he had been granted immunity from prosecution to talk about his history with the mob, but Glickman was steadfast in his refusal to answer any questions posed by Assistant U.S. Atty. Markus Funk.
"I respectfully refuse to testify," Glickman said calmly several times before Zagel found him in contempt of court and ordered him taken into custody. Zagel warned he would bring Glickman back to the courtroom Tuesday to ask him again whether he wishes to answer questions.
Loraine Ray, Glickman's attorney, declined to comment on her client's reasons to remain mum despite immunity. According to documents filed by prosecutors in the case, Glickman was to testify that he had dozens of gamblers as regular customers in the 1970s and made about $150,000 a year.
If Glickman continues to refuse to testify, Zagel could arguably hold him in custody throughout the expected three-month trial, if not longer, legal experts said.
After court Monday, Calabrese's attorney, Joseph Lopez, said Glickman has "no reason whatsoever" to fear his client. The relationship between the men ended in the 1960s, Lopez said. "I hope he changes his mind and comes to court," Lopez said. "I hate to see the man locked up for this."
Before Glickman's exchange with the judge, jurors did hear from a number of witnesses Monday, all of them testifying against Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, who is among the five defendants being tried on sweeping charges of racketeering conspiracy.
At the heart of the conspiracy case are 18 decades-old gangland slayings. But despite that, the trial isn't expected to produce many "CSI" moments.
Key evidence will come mostly from witnesses and secret government recordings, not the advanced scientific analysis of DNA, ballistics or fiber evidence. Yet jurors looked on Monday as an old-fashioned fingerprint was projected onto a large screen at the front of the courtroom.
It appeared on a copy of a title application for a 1973 Ford LTD, signed for by the generic-sounding ACME Security Service. But under the "Se" in "Service," investigators say, is a print from the left middle finger of Lombardo. And the car in question was one of two allegedly driven from the scene of the murder of federal witness Daniel Seifert. The shotgun slaying in front of Seifert's wife and young son is the lone murder with which the reputed Outfit leader has been charged.
The FBI agent who found the print more than three decades ago was on the stand. He's now a thin, retired, white-haired man who keeps busy with "a little bit of farming."
Roy McDaniel told jurors he is a former supervising fingerprint specialist with the FBI who has made "several million" comparisons. He said he had 40 years of experience, testified in court nearly 100 times and even played a role on the FBI's disaster team that processes prints at the scenes of plane crashes and other disasters.
McDaniel testified about his work with a hint of a Southern accent. "You have [fingerprints] before you were born, and you will have them until you decompose after death," he said.
McDaniel said he took control of more than a dozen documents related to the Ford LTD that were retrieved from the Illinois secretary of state's office in Springfield and sent to Washington D.C. It was October 1974, about a month after Seifert had been ambushed and gunned down outside his Bensenville plastics business. Seifert had agreed to testify against Lombardo and others in a pension fraud case months before he was killed.
McDaniel told the jury how he sprayed the title application with a solution, dried it and then steamed it to make latent prints visible. The marks left on the document by a finger's friction ridges matched a finger on FBI fingerprint card 673515E, the one carrying the prints of Lombardo, McDaniel said.
"Only that one finger, of everybody in the world, could've made that particular print," McDaniel said as jurors watched the overhead screen or on their own TV screens near their seats.
On cross-examination McDaniel acknowledged that he had only attempted to match the print to the defendants in the case who Seifert was set to testify against.
Lombardo leaned back in his chair most of the day, occasionally standing so witnesses could identify him. To some he returned a nod or even a hand wave as he sat back down.
Others who testified included several former employees of a North Side CB radio store who told jurors that in the months after Seifert's death, they told authorities that Lombardo had routinely bought police scanners from them before the murder. A scanner was found in the Ford after the gunmen abandoned it at a car dealership.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
Joel Glickman, 71, was taken into custody late Monday after defying an order from U.S. District Judge James Zagel to testify. Glickman had been slated to tell jurors that he paid between $1,300 and $2,000 a month in "street taxes" to defendant Frank Calabrese Sr. and other reputed mob figures to run his gambling operation.
Zagel reminded Glickman, who wore a black short-sleeve shirt unbuttoned at the neck, that he had been granted immunity from prosecution to talk about his history with the mob, but Glickman was steadfast in his refusal to answer any questions posed by Assistant U.S. Atty. Markus Funk.
"I respectfully refuse to testify," Glickman said calmly several times before Zagel found him in contempt of court and ordered him taken into custody. Zagel warned he would bring Glickman back to the courtroom Tuesday to ask him again whether he wishes to answer questions.
Loraine Ray, Glickman's attorney, declined to comment on her client's reasons to remain mum despite immunity. According to documents filed by prosecutors in the case, Glickman was to testify that he had dozens of gamblers as regular customers in the 1970s and made about $150,000 a year.
If Glickman continues to refuse to testify, Zagel could arguably hold him in custody throughout the expected three-month trial, if not longer, legal experts said.
After court Monday, Calabrese's attorney, Joseph Lopez, said Glickman has "no reason whatsoever" to fear his client. The relationship between the men ended in the 1960s, Lopez said. "I hope he changes his mind and comes to court," Lopez said. "I hate to see the man locked up for this."
Before Glickman's exchange with the judge, jurors did hear from a number of witnesses Monday, all of them testifying against Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, who is among the five defendants being tried on sweeping charges of racketeering conspiracy.
At the heart of the conspiracy case are 18 decades-old gangland slayings. But despite that, the trial isn't expected to produce many "CSI" moments.
Key evidence will come mostly from witnesses and secret government recordings, not the advanced scientific analysis of DNA, ballistics or fiber evidence. Yet jurors looked on Monday as an old-fashioned fingerprint was projected onto a large screen at the front of the courtroom.
It appeared on a copy of a title application for a 1973 Ford LTD, signed for by the generic-sounding ACME Security Service. But under the "Se" in "Service," investigators say, is a print from the left middle finger of Lombardo. And the car in question was one of two allegedly driven from the scene of the murder of federal witness Daniel Seifert. The shotgun slaying in front of Seifert's wife and young son is the lone murder with which the reputed Outfit leader has been charged.
The FBI agent who found the print more than three decades ago was on the stand. He's now a thin, retired, white-haired man who keeps busy with "a little bit of farming."
Roy McDaniel told jurors he is a former supervising fingerprint specialist with the FBI who has made "several million" comparisons. He said he had 40 years of experience, testified in court nearly 100 times and even played a role on the FBI's disaster team that processes prints at the scenes of plane crashes and other disasters.
McDaniel testified about his work with a hint of a Southern accent. "You have [fingerprints] before you were born, and you will have them until you decompose after death," he said.
McDaniel said he took control of more than a dozen documents related to the Ford LTD that were retrieved from the Illinois secretary of state's office in Springfield and sent to Washington D.C. It was October 1974, about a month after Seifert had been ambushed and gunned down outside his Bensenville plastics business. Seifert had agreed to testify against Lombardo and others in a pension fraud case months before he was killed.
McDaniel told the jury how he sprayed the title application with a solution, dried it and then steamed it to make latent prints visible. The marks left on the document by a finger's friction ridges matched a finger on FBI fingerprint card 673515E, the one carrying the prints of Lombardo, McDaniel said.
"Only that one finger, of everybody in the world, could've made that particular print," McDaniel said as jurors watched the overhead screen or on their own TV screens near their seats.
On cross-examination McDaniel acknowledged that he had only attempted to match the print to the defendants in the case who Seifert was set to testify against.
Lombardo leaned back in his chair most of the day, occasionally standing so witnesses could identify him. To some he returned a nod or even a hand wave as he sat back down.
Others who testified included several former employees of a North Side CB radio store who told jurors that in the months after Seifert's death, they told authorities that Lombardo had routinely bought police scanners from them before the murder. A scanner was found in the Ford after the gunmen abandoned it at a car dealership.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
Monday, July 02, 2007
Mobster's Fingerprints Matched By FBI
Friends of ours: Joseph “Joey the Clown” Lombardo
A retired FBI fingerprint analyst testified today that a fingerprint from reputed top Chicago mobster Joseph “Joey the Clown” Lombardo appeared on an application for a car title for a Ford LTD that was used by the killers in the 1974 murder of government witness Daniel Seifert.
Roy L. McDaniel, a 40-year veteran of the FBI laboratory, told jurors in the Operation Family Secrets mob trial that he identified a fingerprint that matched the left middle finger of Lombardo after he received the material in October 1974.
Police recovered the car after the Sept. 27, 1974, murder of Seifert, who was to be a witness at a federal criminal trial against Lombardo, his former close friend.
Lombardo was accused of helping rip off a Teamster pension fund, and prosecutors say Seifert was the only witness who could link him to two checks they said were part of the scheme. When Seifert was killed, the case against Lombardo was dropped.
The brown Ford LTD was recovered at an Elmhurst car dealership where prosecutors say the hit team met after killing Seifert. It had been outfitted as a so-called Chicago Outfit “work car,” equipped with four switches under the dashboard that let the driver turn off all exterior lights of the car, so it could be driven completely dark at night. The license-plate holders were on spring-loaded flip brackets, so the plates could be quickly switched, according to prosecutors.
The owner of the car, listed on the title application as Acme Security Service, turned out to be fake. But there were other prints on documents related to the purchase of the car that were examined by the FBI that did not match Lombardo’s prints or those of anyone else the FBI was looking at.
Lombardo’s attorney, Rick Halprin, elicited that information during his questioning, apparently in an effort to show that other people handled the documents besides Lombardo and that the FBI doesn’t know who they are.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
A retired FBI fingerprint analyst testified today that a fingerprint from reputed top Chicago mobster Joseph “Joey the Clown” Lombardo appeared on an application for a car title for a Ford LTD that was used by the killers in the 1974 murder of government witness Daniel Seifert.
Roy L. McDaniel, a 40-year veteran of the FBI laboratory, told jurors in the Operation Family Secrets mob trial that he identified a fingerprint that matched the left middle finger of Lombardo after he received the material in October 1974.
Police recovered the car after the Sept. 27, 1974, murder of Seifert, who was to be a witness at a federal criminal trial against Lombardo, his former close friend.
Lombardo was accused of helping rip off a Teamster pension fund, and prosecutors say Seifert was the only witness who could link him to two checks they said were part of the scheme. When Seifert was killed, the case against Lombardo was dropped.
The brown Ford LTD was recovered at an Elmhurst car dealership where prosecutors say the hit team met after killing Seifert. It had been outfitted as a so-called Chicago Outfit “work car,” equipped with four switches under the dashboard that let the driver turn off all exterior lights of the car, so it could be driven completely dark at night. The license-plate holders were on spring-loaded flip brackets, so the plates could be quickly switched, according to prosecutors.
The owner of the car, listed on the title application as Acme Security Service, turned out to be fake. But there were other prints on documents related to the purchase of the car that were examined by the FBI that did not match Lombardo’s prints or those of anyone else the FBI was looking at.
Lombardo’s attorney, Rick Halprin, elicited that information during his questioning, apparently in an effort to show that other people handled the documents besides Lombardo and that the FBI doesn’t know who they are.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
Sunday, July 01, 2007
How Much Power Does the Chicago Outfit Posess?
The "Family Secrets" trial of a group of alleged Chicago mobsters has drawn attention to the Windy City's gangland heritage and raises questions about the strength of today's "Outfit."
Is the shadowy organization - the modern-day legacy of Al Capone - on its last legs, or is it as strong as ever? Observers disagree.
Retired reporter John Drummond, who chronicled organized crime for WBBM-TV for decades, said the Outfit has been weakened through recent federal crackdowns and the aging of kingpins. Reputed mob boss Joseph "the Clown" Lombardo, one of the Family Secrets defendants, is in his late 70s. "I think they are pretty much in disarray," Drummond said. "Nobody wants to take over the mantle of leadership because of the scrutiny that they'd be under."
Jim Wagner, president of the Chicago Crime Commission, was less optimistic. The former FBI agent said the mob's influence remains as pervasive as ever and includes illegal activities such as gambling and prostitution as well as legitimate white-collar businesses that launder dirty money. "My concern is that people have the misunderstanding that this trial, as important as it is, represents an end of the Outfit, and nothing could be further from the truth," Wagner said. "The money's still there, and therefore the influence is still there."
All Illinoisans are affected by organized crime, Wagner said, because the crime syndicate's participation in any enterprise adds a layer of cost that is passed on to taxpayers or consumers.
The Illinois Gaming Board's 2001 decision to block a casino from being built in Rosemont centered on allegations that the project was tainted by mob influence. Late Rosemont mayor Donald Stephens was dogged for years by allegations that he had associated with Chicago mob chief Sam Giancana, but Stephens denied any connection beyond purchasing property from him in the early-1960s.
The sweeping Family Secrets trial that began in June in U.S. District Court is expected to offer an insider's view into the Chicago Outfit's past misdeeds. The alleged racketeering conspiracy at the heart of the case includes 18 long-unsolved murders and a myriad of crimes ranging from extorting "street taxes" from businesses to making "juice loans," or loan-sharking.
Probably the most notorious killing is that of Anthony Spilotro, who was found buried with his brother in an Indiana cornfield in 1986. In the 1995 movie "Casino," Joe Pesci's character - and his grisly end - is based on Spilotro.
Such displays of brutality generally are a thing of the past for organized crime, author and crime historian Richard Lindberg said. He said that's because mob hits tend to attract law enforcement attention. "The lesson that (mobsters) learned is that violence is bad for business," he said. "Once you stop seeing bodies being found in trunks at the airport or in ditches on the side of country highways, then the mob becomes invisible."
Even if the traditional Italian-American mob may be waning, experts say other kinds of gangs have moved into the Chicago region, possibly with the old syndicate's blessing. They include ethnic crime organizations from Eastern Europe and Asia. The new gangs are even more discreet, Lindberg said.
"What's happened, some people will tell you, is that the government has put too much priority on the traditional mobs, and the other ethnic groups are probably doing very well for themselves," Drummond, the retired reporter, said.
Chicago cannot shake its underworld history, particularly the image of Capone (1899-1947), whose bootlegging empire was the precursor to today's mob. Image-conscious city officials have tried to downplay that era, but it refuses to die.
Few Capone-related sites even survive today, but Don Fielding said his "Untouchables" bus tour continues to thrive. He said guides hit the highlights of Scarface's career. "I hope the trial goes on for years," Fielding said. "It gives people this little sense of intrigue."
In its central exhibit about the city's origins, the Chicago History Museum acknowledges the power that Capone wielded but frames him in a negative context. The display includes a graphic photograph of the 1929 St. Valentine's Day Massacre, in which several of Capone's rival gang members were sprayed by machine-gun fire. "Part of what the museum is about is to promote a fuller understanding of the history of Chicago," museum historian Sarah Marcus said. "If you are choosing to erase portions of history, first of all, people are going to know you're doing it. And second of all, you have a responsibility to confront some of the less pleasant and disturbing aspects. ... It's not all sunshine and roses."
Thanks to Mike Ramsey
Is the shadowy organization - the modern-day legacy of Al Capone - on its last legs, or is it as strong as ever? Observers disagree.
Retired reporter John Drummond, who chronicled organized crime for WBBM-TV for decades, said the Outfit has been weakened through recent federal crackdowns and the aging of kingpins. Reputed mob boss Joseph "the Clown" Lombardo, one of the Family Secrets defendants, is in his late 70s. "I think they are pretty much in disarray," Drummond said. "Nobody wants to take over the mantle of leadership because of the scrutiny that they'd be under."
Jim Wagner, president of the Chicago Crime Commission, was less optimistic. The former FBI agent said the mob's influence remains as pervasive as ever and includes illegal activities such as gambling and prostitution as well as legitimate white-collar businesses that launder dirty money. "My concern is that people have the misunderstanding that this trial, as important as it is, represents an end of the Outfit, and nothing could be further from the truth," Wagner said. "The money's still there, and therefore the influence is still there."
All Illinoisans are affected by organized crime, Wagner said, because the crime syndicate's participation in any enterprise adds a layer of cost that is passed on to taxpayers or consumers.
The Illinois Gaming Board's 2001 decision to block a casino from being built in Rosemont centered on allegations that the project was tainted by mob influence. Late Rosemont mayor Donald Stephens was dogged for years by allegations that he had associated with Chicago mob chief Sam Giancana, but Stephens denied any connection beyond purchasing property from him in the early-1960s.
The sweeping Family Secrets trial that began in June in U.S. District Court is expected to offer an insider's view into the Chicago Outfit's past misdeeds. The alleged racketeering conspiracy at the heart of the case includes 18 long-unsolved murders and a myriad of crimes ranging from extorting "street taxes" from businesses to making "juice loans," or loan-sharking.
Probably the most notorious killing is that of Anthony Spilotro, who was found buried with his brother in an Indiana cornfield in 1986. In the 1995 movie "Casino," Joe Pesci's character - and his grisly end - is based on Spilotro.
Such displays of brutality generally are a thing of the past for organized crime, author and crime historian Richard Lindberg said. He said that's because mob hits tend to attract law enforcement attention. "The lesson that (mobsters) learned is that violence is bad for business," he said. "Once you stop seeing bodies being found in trunks at the airport or in ditches on the side of country highways, then the mob becomes invisible."
Even if the traditional Italian-American mob may be waning, experts say other kinds of gangs have moved into the Chicago region, possibly with the old syndicate's blessing. They include ethnic crime organizations from Eastern Europe and Asia. The new gangs are even more discreet, Lindberg said.
"What's happened, some people will tell you, is that the government has put too much priority on the traditional mobs, and the other ethnic groups are probably doing very well for themselves," Drummond, the retired reporter, said.
Chicago cannot shake its underworld history, particularly the image of Capone (1899-1947), whose bootlegging empire was the precursor to today's mob. Image-conscious city officials have tried to downplay that era, but it refuses to die.
Few Capone-related sites even survive today, but Don Fielding said his "Untouchables" bus tour continues to thrive. He said guides hit the highlights of Scarface's career. "I hope the trial goes on for years," Fielding said. "It gives people this little sense of intrigue."
In its central exhibit about the city's origins, the Chicago History Museum acknowledges the power that Capone wielded but frames him in a negative context. The display includes a graphic photograph of the 1929 St. Valentine's Day Massacre, in which several of Capone's rival gang members were sprayed by machine-gun fire. "Part of what the museum is about is to promote a fuller understanding of the history of Chicago," museum historian Sarah Marcus said. "If you are choosing to erase portions of history, first of all, people are going to know you're doing it. And second of all, you have a responsibility to confront some of the less pleasant and disturbing aspects. ... It's not all sunshine and roses."
Thanks to Mike Ramsey
Replacement for "The Sopranos" Found
The Hollywood Reporter said Wednesday a four-part movie about Saddam Hussein's life will air on HBO. It makes perfect sense that the cable network would buy a mini-series about Iraq. There's nothing HBO likes better than a shoot-'em-up with no ending.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Widow Testifies that Mobster Killed Her Husband
Friends of ours: Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo
Friends of mine: Irwin Weiner
Emma Seifert had just gotten her sick 4-year-old son settled in the office she shared with her husband and was preparing to make her morning coffee when two gunmen burst through the door.
"I believe they said, 'This is a robbery and where is ...' I don't know if they called him my husband or 'that SOB,' " Seifert told jurors Thursday as she described how mobsters gunned down her husband, Daniel, on the morning of Sept. 27, 1974. "I screamed but obviously not loud enough, because Daniel didn't hear me," Seifert said.
She gave perhaps the most powerful testimony yet in the federal trial in Chicago of five alleged organized crime figures, including two prominent mob bosses.
Daniel Seifert was to be a key government witness against Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, who had been charged with ripping off a Teamsters Union pension fund. When Seifert was killed, the case against Lombardo evaporated. Lombardo is one of the five men on trial as federal prosecutors seek to pin 18 murders, including Seifert's, on the mob.
Emma Seifert testified that she couldn't be definite but believed one of the three gunmen she saw that day was Lombardo -- based on his height, build and lightness on his feet. "Joey was a boxer and very light on his feet," she said.
She acknowledged under questioning by one of Lombardo's defense attorneys that she did not initially tell police about her suspicion. She said she feared for her family's safety but did tell her brother-in-law that day of her belief, according to court testimony.
Her son, Joseph, was there the day his father was killed and also was in court Thursday to hear her testimony, as was his half-brother, Nick. "We felt that she was very courageous," Joseph said of his mom's testimony, speaking for himself and Nick.
He praised the prosecution, saying, "for us, it was an incredibly enlightening day of testimony, of hearing different details and different sides."
Testimony on Thursday revealed that Daniel Seifert became a business associate of mobsters after he did some carpentry work with a mobbed-up businessman, Irwin Weiner.
Weiner helped bankroll the fiberglass factory that Seifert operated. Weiner was friends with Lombardo, and soon Lombardo was hired at the factory, but Emma Seifert testified she never saw him do any work.
Lombardo and Seifert were close, so close that Seifert named his son, Joseph, after him. But relations soured, and Seifert left to start his own business, his widow testified. When the mob later learned that Seifert was cooperating with the feds, the threats began, culminating in his slaying, she told jurors.
Emma Seifert testified that her son had gone into the fiberglass factory first that morning, with her husband trailing behind. Two gunmen burst through a back door, pushed her to the floor and jumped Daniel Seifert in the entryway, hitting him in the head with a gun.
With her husband down, Emma tried to get into her office desk where there was a gun, but the drawer was locked and one of the gunmen herded her and her son into a bathroom, she told the jury.
She heard a gunshot and then heard nothing for a few seconds, told her son to stay put and went back to her desk, Emma said. She saw her husband running for his life across the factory parking lot -- the last time she would see him alive, she testified. Emma said she locked the office door and called police. Emma told jurors that her husband ran through another building, and one of the gunmen shot him. As he lay on the grass, a gunman came up to him and delivered a point-blank shot to his head, according to her testimony.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
Friends of mine: Irwin Weiner
Emma Seifert had just gotten her sick 4-year-old son settled in the office she shared with her husband and was preparing to make her morning coffee when two gunmen burst through the door.
"I believe they said, 'This is a robbery and where is ...' I don't know if they called him my husband or 'that SOB,' " Seifert told jurors Thursday as she described how mobsters gunned down her husband, Daniel, on the morning of Sept. 27, 1974. "I screamed but obviously not loud enough, because Daniel didn't hear me," Seifert said.
She gave perhaps the most powerful testimony yet in the federal trial in Chicago of five alleged organized crime figures, including two prominent mob bosses.
Daniel Seifert was to be a key government witness against Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, who had been charged with ripping off a Teamsters Union pension fund. When Seifert was killed, the case against Lombardo evaporated. Lombardo is one of the five men on trial as federal prosecutors seek to pin 18 murders, including Seifert's, on the mob.
Emma Seifert testified that she couldn't be definite but believed one of the three gunmen she saw that day was Lombardo -- based on his height, build and lightness on his feet. "Joey was a boxer and very light on his feet," she said.
She acknowledged under questioning by one of Lombardo's defense attorneys that she did not initially tell police about her suspicion. She said she feared for her family's safety but did tell her brother-in-law that day of her belief, according to court testimony.
Her son, Joseph, was there the day his father was killed and also was in court Thursday to hear her testimony, as was his half-brother, Nick. "We felt that she was very courageous," Joseph said of his mom's testimony, speaking for himself and Nick.
He praised the prosecution, saying, "for us, it was an incredibly enlightening day of testimony, of hearing different details and different sides."
Testimony on Thursday revealed that Daniel Seifert became a business associate of mobsters after he did some carpentry work with a mobbed-up businessman, Irwin Weiner.
Weiner helped bankroll the fiberglass factory that Seifert operated. Weiner was friends with Lombardo, and soon Lombardo was hired at the factory, but Emma Seifert testified she never saw him do any work.
Lombardo and Seifert were close, so close that Seifert named his son, Joseph, after him. But relations soured, and Seifert left to start his own business, his widow testified. When the mob later learned that Seifert was cooperating with the feds, the threats began, culminating in his slaying, she told jurors.
Emma Seifert testified that her son had gone into the fiberglass factory first that morning, with her husband trailing behind. Two gunmen burst through a back door, pushed her to the floor and jumped Daniel Seifert in the entryway, hitting him in the head with a gun.
With her husband down, Emma tried to get into her office desk where there was a gun, but the drawer was locked and one of the gunmen herded her and her son into a bathroom, she told the jury.
She heard a gunshot and then heard nothing for a few seconds, told her son to stay put and went back to her desk, Emma said. She saw her husband running for his life across the factory parking lot -- the last time she would see him alive, she testified. Emma said she locked the office door and called police. Emma told jurors that her husband ran through another building, and one of the gunmen shot him. As he lay on the grass, a gunman came up to him and delivered a point-blank shot to his head, according to her testimony.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
The Mob Turns Down the CIA
The CIA released classified documents Wednesday admitting that the spy agency once recruited mafia hit man Johnny Roselli to try to kill Fidel Castro. However, the gangster turned the U.S. government down. The mob won't get in bed with just anybody.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Mob Scion Admits No-Show Job Scam
Mob scion Anthony Colombo copped a plea to defrauding a Manhattan construction company, cutting his losses to avoid a retrial four months after a federal jury deadlocked on the charge.
The son of murdered mob boss Joseph Colombo, who ran an off-shoot crew with his brother, Chris Colombo, likely faces 18 months behind bars after he 'fessed up to landing a pal a no-show job at EDP Construction from 1999 to 2000. "I assisted Philip Dioguardi in obtaining a job with EDP entities knowing that he did not actually perform at all times the work he was paid for," Colombo said as he pleaded guilty in Manhattan federal court yesterday.
The reputed wiseguy dodged conviction in February when a jury acquitted him of racketeering and extortion, and failed to reach a verdict on two additional extortion counts and conspiracy.
At the same trial, Chris, who gained notoriety in 2005 by filming the failed reality show "House Arrest" for HBO, was convicted on two counts of gambling. In his opening and closing statements, his defense attorney conceded Chris had committed those crimes, but the jury acquitted Chris of two extortion raps and deadlocked on racketeering and other charges. During trial testimony, EDP owner Dominick Fonti said he was also duped into putting Anthony Colombo on his payroll - knowing nothing about his mob ties - and then watched helplessly as his businesses were drained of cash.
Fonti said he doled out a weekly $600 salary to Colombo and more than $24,000 in bonuses, agreeing to make the checks out to gangster's wife, Carol.
The small-business owner claimed he eventually wised up to the fact he was dealing with a son of a murdered Mafia boss and thought to himself, "Boy, Dominick. You really got yourself in deep s- - - here."
Thanks to Kati Cornell
The son of murdered mob boss Joseph Colombo, who ran an off-shoot crew with his brother, Chris Colombo, likely faces 18 months behind bars after he 'fessed up to landing a pal a no-show job at EDP Construction from 1999 to 2000. "I assisted Philip Dioguardi in obtaining a job with EDP entities knowing that he did not actually perform at all times the work he was paid for," Colombo said as he pleaded guilty in Manhattan federal court yesterday.
The reputed wiseguy dodged conviction in February when a jury acquitted him of racketeering and extortion, and failed to reach a verdict on two additional extortion counts and conspiracy.
At the same trial, Chris, who gained notoriety in 2005 by filming the failed reality show "House Arrest" for HBO, was convicted on two counts of gambling. In his opening and closing statements, his defense attorney conceded Chris had committed those crimes, but the jury acquitted Chris of two extortion raps and deadlocked on racketeering and other charges. During trial testimony, EDP owner Dominick Fonti said he was also duped into putting Anthony Colombo on his payroll - knowing nothing about his mob ties - and then watched helplessly as his businesses were drained of cash.
Fonti said he doled out a weekly $600 salary to Colombo and more than $24,000 in bonuses, agreeing to make the checks out to gangster's wife, Carol.
The small-business owner claimed he eventually wised up to the fact he was dealing with a son of a murdered Mafia boss and thought to himself, "Boy, Dominick. You really got yourself in deep s- - - here."
Thanks to Kati Cornell
Chicago Pizza, Mob Style
Friends of ours: Jim Colissimo, Al Capone, Murray "the Camel" Humphreys, Sam "Momo" Giancana, Tony "the Big Tuna" Accardo, "Little" Jimmy Marcello, Angelo "the Hook" Lapietra, Nicholas Ferriola, Frank Calabrese Sr.
This is one of the "family secrets" that federal authorities exposed during their covert investigation of Chicago outfit bosses. The Connie's connection is among the secrets that will be revealed during the government prosecution of five ranking hoodlums-- a secret that we can tell you about tonight.
From Colissimo to Capone, Murray "the Camel" Humphreys to Sam "Momo" Giancana, "the Big Tuna" to "Little" Jimmy, for a century the backbone of Chicago organized crime has been the street tax on criminal activities such as gambling, jewel heists, prostitution and peep shows.
As video from a hidden FBI camera shows, vice operators pay when outfit toughs come calling, if they want to stay in business and keep their legs intact. According to federal investigators, from 1980 until 2001, the late outfit boss Angelo "the Hook" Lapietra ordered shakedowns totaling more than $300,000. Lapietra's nickname is derived from the meat hook from which he would hang debtors. Mob enforcers Nicholas Ferriola and Frank Calabrese Sr. were among those who collected the street tax.
Sometimes, they even muscled legitimate businesses for street taxes: from Rush Street taverns to restaurants, including beloved Chicago pizza maker Connie's.
For two decades, authorities say the owner of Connie's Pizza, Jim Stolfe, paid an outfit street tax of $500 per month to hoodlum Frank Calabrese Sr. The FBI contends Connie's was an extortion victim, pay up or pay the price, but Calabrese Sr.'s lawyer says the FBI has it wrong. "Mr. Stolfe went to my client's son's wedding-that'a all I really have to say. That doesn't sound like a shakedown," said Joe Lopez, Calabrese Sr. lawyer.
Connie's original location is on 26th Street, the heart of the outfit's 26th Street Crew that controlled crime syndicate rackets from the Loop to Chinatown. According to Calabrese Sr.'s, attorney, the pizzeria would actually employ mobsters to follow these familiar looking home delivery vans, reporting back to Connie's owner which drivers were sleeping on the job. "They were friends. My client was employed there for a number of years. They were friends and they remain friends," Lopez said.
Federal authorities say the Connie's connection surfaced during a meeting at the old neighborhood Italian-American Club in Bridgeport during Operation Family Secrets. While Calabrese's son Frank Jr. was working undercover for the FBI, he secretly recorded a conversation at the Italian-American Club with club president Dominic "Captain D" Difazio. Prosecutors say the tape reveals Difazio delivering the monthly street tax payment to the mob, on behalf of Connie's, which was owned by Difazio's brother-in-law.
Difazio did not return phone calls from the I-Team. Last year, Jim Stolfe turned over the management of Connie's Pizza to his son Marc, who declined the I-Team's invitation to speak on camera but left this phone message: "I really can't say much of anything without running the risk of getting myself in trouble with one side or the other. I hope you understand."
The I-Team left several messages at the home of former Connie's boss Jim Stolfe but didn't hear back. His son says Stolfe is out of town. Also, the I-Team did not receive a reply from the lawyer for Nick Ferriola, who pleaded guilty last week to his role in the outfit extortions.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
This is one of the "family secrets" that federal authorities exposed during their covert investigation of Chicago outfit bosses. The Connie's connection is among the secrets that will be revealed during the government prosecution of five ranking hoodlums-- a secret that we can tell you about tonight.
From Colissimo to Capone, Murray "the Camel" Humphreys to Sam "Momo" Giancana, "the Big Tuna" to "Little" Jimmy, for a century the backbone of Chicago organized crime has been the street tax on criminal activities such as gambling, jewel heists, prostitution and peep shows.
As video from a hidden FBI camera shows, vice operators pay when outfit toughs come calling, if they want to stay in business and keep their legs intact. According to federal investigators, from 1980 until 2001, the late outfit boss Angelo "the Hook" Lapietra ordered shakedowns totaling more than $300,000. Lapietra's nickname is derived from the meat hook from which he would hang debtors. Mob enforcers Nicholas Ferriola and Frank Calabrese Sr. were among those who collected the street tax.
Sometimes, they even muscled legitimate businesses for street taxes: from Rush Street taverns to restaurants, including beloved Chicago pizza maker Connie's.
For two decades, authorities say the owner of Connie's Pizza, Jim Stolfe, paid an outfit street tax of $500 per month to hoodlum Frank Calabrese Sr. The FBI contends Connie's was an extortion victim, pay up or pay the price, but Calabrese Sr.'s lawyer says the FBI has it wrong. "Mr. Stolfe went to my client's son's wedding-that'a all I really have to say. That doesn't sound like a shakedown," said Joe Lopez, Calabrese Sr. lawyer.
Connie's original location is on 26th Street, the heart of the outfit's 26th Street Crew that controlled crime syndicate rackets from the Loop to Chinatown. According to Calabrese Sr.'s, attorney, the pizzeria would actually employ mobsters to follow these familiar looking home delivery vans, reporting back to Connie's owner which drivers were sleeping on the job. "They were friends. My client was employed there for a number of years. They were friends and they remain friends," Lopez said.
Federal authorities say the Connie's connection surfaced during a meeting at the old neighborhood Italian-American Club in Bridgeport during Operation Family Secrets. While Calabrese's son Frank Jr. was working undercover for the FBI, he secretly recorded a conversation at the Italian-American Club with club president Dominic "Captain D" Difazio. Prosecutors say the tape reveals Difazio delivering the monthly street tax payment to the mob, on behalf of Connie's, which was owned by Difazio's brother-in-law.
Difazio did not return phone calls from the I-Team. Last year, Jim Stolfe turned over the management of Connie's Pizza to his son Marc, who declined the I-Team's invitation to speak on camera but left this phone message: "I really can't say much of anything without running the risk of getting myself in trouble with one side or the other. I hope you understand."
The I-Team left several messages at the home of former Connie's boss Jim Stolfe but didn't hear back. His son says Stolfe is out of town. Also, the I-Team did not receive a reply from the lawyer for Nick Ferriola, who pleaded guilty last week to his role in the outfit extortions.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
Thursday, June 28, 2007
The Shark Attacks: Focus on the Daniel Seifert Murder
Attorney Joseph "The Shark" Lopez, who is representing Frank Calabrese Sr. in the Chicago Family Secrets Mob Trial, has agreed to provide us with updates on his observations and thoughts regarding the various court proceedings.
Today, Shark responds to the testimony powerful testimony of Emma Siefert, the widow of murder victim, Daniel Siefert.
Today, Shark responds to the testimony powerful testimony of Emma Siefert, the widow of murder victim, Daniel Siefert.
"Another long day in court focused on the (Daniel) Seifert murder. Mrs. (Emma) Seifert was on stand and said one time her husband put on a hood and grabbed a shotgun and went into the plastic shop and shot over the heads of his employees! Wow! Then she said one resembled Mr. Lombardo, but she did not tell anyone this for a few decades.
She described the day of her husband's demise. She called the police. Another witness saw it happen: there were two cars a brown Ford and white and blue Charger. They fled the scene. The chief of police of Elmhurst testified that he was a rookie on this day and that he was in a two man squad when they heard over the radio of the shooting. They went to a Pontiac dealer on Grand and the Ford pulled into the lot right past them. A few minutes later the blue Charger arrived. They must have froze because occupants exited the Ford and Charger and took off. Two squads chased and they got away!!
Imagine if they had caught the car, we would know who was in the car. The ford was recovered it was modified with a hot ignition and drilled air filter with switches to turn off lights, 007 Chi-town Ford style. One witness claimed that the passenger looked like the Ant! (Tony Spilotro). Another witness said a tall guy got out of ford and said hi and stated his car was ready. The squad car was in the same lot when this was happening. If it had been Chicago CPD they would have been blasting away!
Its hard to imagine how they did not get caught and we still do not know who was in the car, but the driver was good. It hit a car and kept going in and out of traffic right into North lake... We saw photos as Matt Lydon ex-Assistant United States Attorney described his case against Irv Weiner, Lombardo and others. After Seifert was gone, the case fell apart. All were aquitted. Case against defendant Lombardo was dropped.
Today all three prosecutors took turns. Defense lawyers were awake and not sleeping, Judge Zagel doing an excellent job of moving trial along at a good pace and he is always very pleasant to all." - Shark
Hollywood Celebrity P.I. Prime Topic at Mob Trial
A top Hollywood private investigator, Anthony Pellicano, now in jail battling charges he illegally wiretapped enemies of the rich and famous, worked under reputed top mobster Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo three decades ago when Pellicano lived in Chicago, according to court testimony Wednesday.
Pellicano allegedly had a mob henchman, Alva Johnson Rodgers, blow up a Mount Prospect home and was upset when the man wouldn't torch a restaurant, according to Rodgers' testimony in the historic Family Secrets mob trial in Chicago.
Pellicano allegedly had a mob henchman, Alva Johnson Rodgers, blow up a Mount Prospect home and was upset when the man wouldn't torch a restaurant, according to Rodgers' testimony in the historic Family Secrets mob trial in Chicago.
Pellicano's mob past in Chicago has long been hinted at, but the trial on Wednesday offered the first public, detailed testimony on what Pellicano allegedly did when he was in Chicago.
Pellicano's mob past in Chicago has long been hinted at, but the trial on Wednesday offered the first public, detailed testimony on what Pellicano allegedly did when he was in Chicago.
Pellicano's attorney, Steven Gruel, could not be reached Wednesday but has rejected claims that his client was mobbed up.
Rodgers, 78, testified with a Texas twang as he described to jurors how he went from a petty car thief to hanging out with Outfit members after he befriended Chicago mobster Marshall Caifano when they were both in prison in the early 1970s.
Rodgers said he saw Pellicano with Lombardo several times.
Rodgers burned down a Mount Prospect home that no one was living in at the time after Pellicano paid him $5,000.
Another time, Rodgers said Pellicano wanted him to close down a Chicago restaurant after a woman who had invested in the place wasn't getting any return.
Rodgers hired some kids to knock out the windows but said he balked when Pellicano wanted him to burn it down because the place was open 24 hours a day.
Rodgers, who mainly stole cars, came under a withering grilling by Lombardo's attorney, Rick Halprin, who mocked his testimony.
"You were, if you pardon the expression, just a bust-out loser?" Halprin asked.
"Probably, yeah," Rodgers conceded. But Rodgers added that he did do 11 years in prison for a bank robbery. "Is that heavy enough?"
"I'm glad you're not modest," Halprin said. "The bank robbery is probably the highlight of your career?"
"Well, sort of," Rodgers said.
Through his questions, Halprin mocked Rodgers' plan in the 1970s to take over the porn industry in Chicago.
Halprin asked how Rodgers could get the loans to buy millions of dollars of pornography.
"Based on your good credit, right?"
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
Pellicano allegedly had a mob henchman, Alva Johnson Rodgers, blow up a Mount Prospect home and was upset when the man wouldn't torch a restaurant, according to Rodgers' testimony in the historic Family Secrets mob trial in Chicago.Pellicano allegedly had a mob henchman, Alva Johnson Rodgers, blow up a Mount Prospect home and was upset when the man wouldn't torch a restaurant, according to Rodgers' testimony in the historic Family Secrets mob trial in Chicago.
Pellicano's mob past in Chicago has long been hinted at, but the trial on Wednesday offered the first public, detailed testimony on what Pellicano allegedly did when he was in Chicago.
Pellicano's mob past in Chicago has long been hinted at, but the trial on Wednesday offered the first public, detailed testimony on what Pellicano allegedly did when he was in Chicago.
Pellicano's attorney, Steven Gruel, could not be reached Wednesday but has rejected claims that his client was mobbed up.
Rodgers, 78, testified with a Texas twang as he described to jurors how he went from a petty car thief to hanging out with Outfit members after he befriended Chicago mobster Marshall Caifano when they were both in prison in the early 1970s.
Rodgers said he saw Pellicano with Lombardo several times.
Rodgers burned down a Mount Prospect home that no one was living in at the time after Pellicano paid him $5,000.
Another time, Rodgers said Pellicano wanted him to close down a Chicago restaurant after a woman who had invested in the place wasn't getting any return.
Rodgers hired some kids to knock out the windows but said he balked when Pellicano wanted him to burn it down because the place was open 24 hours a day.
Rodgers, who mainly stole cars, came under a withering grilling by Lombardo's attorney, Rick Halprin, who mocked his testimony.
"You were, if you pardon the expression, just a bust-out loser?" Halprin asked.
"Probably, yeah," Rodgers conceded. But Rodgers added that he did do 11 years in prison for a bank robbery. "Is that heavy enough?"
"I'm glad you're not modest," Halprin said. "The bank robbery is probably the highlight of your career?"
"Well, sort of," Rodgers said.
Through his questions, Halprin mocked Rodgers' plan in the 1970s to take over the porn industry in Chicago.
Halprin asked how Rodgers could get the loans to buy millions of dollars of pornography.
"Based on your good credit, right?"
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
Bust-out Loser Testifies Against Joey the Clown
Friends of ours: Marshall Caifano, Joey "the Clown" Lombardo
Friends of mine: Alva Johnson Rodgers, Anthony Pellicano
Alva Johnson Rodgers walked slowly into the Family Secrets trial Wednesday with a criminal record as long as his Texas drawl.
As Rodgers swore to tell the truth, he raised his left hand before quickly catching his mistake and thrusting his right hand into the air.
He's been in prison almost of third of his 78 years, Rodgers said with a hint of pride. There were auto thefts in Arkansas, Arizona and California; a bank robbery in New Jersey; the counterfeiting case in New Orleans; fake stock certificates in Florida; and a plan to bring "a boatload" of marijuana from South America. But he had never met a Chicago mobster until he helped free one from federal prison in Georgia. Rodgers, a jailhouse lawyer, said his legal research found a flaw in the sentence of his cellmate, reputed Outfit hit man Marshall Caifano.
"The Appellate Court believed us and turned him loose," Rodgers, testifying under immunity from prosecution, told a federal jury. Caifano didn't forget the favor, paying for the lawyer who was able to get Rodgers out too. It was 1973, and Rodgers was soon on his way to Chicago to start working for Caifano and his friends, including reputed mob boss Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, he said.
Lombardo and four others are on trial in an alleged conspiracy to carry out Outfit business that included 18 gangland slayings decades ago. Rodgers was called by the prosecution to tell what he knows about Lombardo's control over the mob.
Dressed in a dark suit, peach shirt and dark teal tie, the gray-haired Rodgers sometimes had to lean forward on the witness stand to hear questions. He was asked if he saw Lombardo in court Wednesday. "Yeah, I see him. He just stood up," Rodgers said. Lombardo then sat back down, leaned forward and rested his chin on one hand, appearing to pay close attention.
Under questioning by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully, Rodgers said his first memory of Lombardo was when Lombardo was promoted within the Outfit ahead of his friend Caifano. Soon he and Caifano were taking orders from Lombardo, Rodgers said. Rodgers said he sometimes drove Lombardo around town when Lombardo had a police scanner in his car. Once, he said, they realized they were listening to their police tail. "Apparently, they considered him to be 'the Clown,' and me 'the Rabbit,' " Rodgers said. "We heard every word."
Within a year, Rodgers said, Lombardo allowed him and Caifano to try to take over the porn industry in Chicago. Rodgers said he opened a fictitious business to make peep-show booths and among the visitors were Lombardo and Lombardo's friend Anthony Pellicano, who went on to become a Hollywood private investigator who is awaiting trial in a highly publicized wiretapping case.
The peep-show business was located just a few blocks from a Catholic church, Rodgers said. "When Lombardo found out about it, he came around and told me not to put the store there," Rodgers told jurors. He said he eventually was sent to to take a cut of the profits from a business being opened on North Wells Street by William "Red" Wemette who also testified against Lombardo this week.
Rodgers said he went on to give Lombardo the idea of setting fire to a rival's giant warehouse of pornography as part of the bid to take over the distribution in Chicago. Rodgers also said he set a house fire for Pellicano and delivered cryptic messages to movie production companies to "join the association." A lawyer for Pellicano did not immediately return a call seeking comment on the allegations.
On cross-examination, Lombardo's lawyer, Rick Halprin, mocked Rodgers and his alleged connection to the reputed mob heavyweight. Rodgers again leaned forward to try to hear. "I know I'm not the government, so maybe you should lean back," said Halprin, who then asked whether Rodgers was involved only in minor crimes.
"You were just a bust-out loser?" asked Halprin, quickly saying he meant no insult.
"I did 11 years in prison for that bank robbery," Rodgers said.
"I'm glad you're not modest," the lawyer shot back.
Halprin asked Rodgers where he was planning to get $2 million to replace the pornography he planned to destroy in the warehouse.
"Your good credit?" said Halprin, who feigned a talk Rodgers might have with a loan officer. "Oh, 'And I met Joey Lombardo in a sandwich shop?' "
Halprin scoffed at Rodgers' claim that his dealings with Wemette were on behalf of the mob. He suggested the two were just close friends and noted that Rodgers had once driven Wemette's car to California. Even some jurors smiled as Rodgers said that had been a stolen car -- with Wemette's plates on it.
Also Wednesday, prosecutors played for jurors undercover audio recordings of Lombardo from a 1979 investigation into labor racketeer Allen Dorfman. Lombardo could be heard threatening the life of a casino owner who failed to repay a loan.
And defense lawyers cross-examined Wemette, who had testified about paying street tax to the Outfit from his adult bookstore. Halprin asked Wemette when he had given the FBI information on the sensational 1955 murders of young brothers John and Anton Schuessler and their friend Robert Peterson. In a bid to undercut Wemette's credibility, the defense brought out that Wemette claimed that Kenneth Hansen had confessed to the triple murder in 1968 and that he tipped off the FBI in 1971. Yet Hansen wasn't charged and convicted until the 1990s.
"The people I did speak to about it were really not interested in what I had to say." Wemette said.
Prosecutors repeatedly objected, and Halprin was forced to drop the matter.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
Friends of mine: Alva Johnson Rodgers, Anthony Pellicano
Alva Johnson Rodgers walked slowly into the Family Secrets trial Wednesday with a criminal record as long as his Texas drawl.
As Rodgers swore to tell the truth, he raised his left hand before quickly catching his mistake and thrusting his right hand into the air.
He's been in prison almost of third of his 78 years, Rodgers said with a hint of pride. There were auto thefts in Arkansas, Arizona and California; a bank robbery in New Jersey; the counterfeiting case in New Orleans; fake stock certificates in Florida; and a plan to bring "a boatload" of marijuana from South America. But he had never met a Chicago mobster until he helped free one from federal prison in Georgia. Rodgers, a jailhouse lawyer, said his legal research found a flaw in the sentence of his cellmate, reputed Outfit hit man Marshall Caifano.
"The Appellate Court believed us and turned him loose," Rodgers, testifying under immunity from prosecution, told a federal jury. Caifano didn't forget the favor, paying for the lawyer who was able to get Rodgers out too. It was 1973, and Rodgers was soon on his way to Chicago to start working for Caifano and his friends, including reputed mob boss Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, he said.
Lombardo and four others are on trial in an alleged conspiracy to carry out Outfit business that included 18 gangland slayings decades ago. Rodgers was called by the prosecution to tell what he knows about Lombardo's control over the mob.
Dressed in a dark suit, peach shirt and dark teal tie, the gray-haired Rodgers sometimes had to lean forward on the witness stand to hear questions. He was asked if he saw Lombardo in court Wednesday. "Yeah, I see him. He just stood up," Rodgers said. Lombardo then sat back down, leaned forward and rested his chin on one hand, appearing to pay close attention.
Under questioning by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully, Rodgers said his first memory of Lombardo was when Lombardo was promoted within the Outfit ahead of his friend Caifano. Soon he and Caifano were taking orders from Lombardo, Rodgers said. Rodgers said he sometimes drove Lombardo around town when Lombardo had a police scanner in his car. Once, he said, they realized they were listening to their police tail. "Apparently, they considered him to be 'the Clown,' and me 'the Rabbit,' " Rodgers said. "We heard every word."
Within a year, Rodgers said, Lombardo allowed him and Caifano to try to take over the porn industry in Chicago. Rodgers said he opened a fictitious business to make peep-show booths and among the visitors were Lombardo and Lombardo's friend Anthony Pellicano, who went on to become a Hollywood private investigator who is awaiting trial in a highly publicized wiretapping case.
The peep-show business was located just a few blocks from a Catholic church, Rodgers said. "When Lombardo found out about it, he came around and told me not to put the store there," Rodgers told jurors. He said he eventually was sent to to take a cut of the profits from a business being opened on North Wells Street by William "Red" Wemette who also testified against Lombardo this week.
Rodgers said he went on to give Lombardo the idea of setting fire to a rival's giant warehouse of pornography as part of the bid to take over the distribution in Chicago. Rodgers also said he set a house fire for Pellicano and delivered cryptic messages to movie production companies to "join the association." A lawyer for Pellicano did not immediately return a call seeking comment on the allegations.
On cross-examination, Lombardo's lawyer, Rick Halprin, mocked Rodgers and his alleged connection to the reputed mob heavyweight. Rodgers again leaned forward to try to hear. "I know I'm not the government, so maybe you should lean back," said Halprin, who then asked whether Rodgers was involved only in minor crimes.
"You were just a bust-out loser?" asked Halprin, quickly saying he meant no insult.
"I did 11 years in prison for that bank robbery," Rodgers said.
"I'm glad you're not modest," the lawyer shot back.
Halprin asked Rodgers where he was planning to get $2 million to replace the pornography he planned to destroy in the warehouse.
"Your good credit?" said Halprin, who feigned a talk Rodgers might have with a loan officer. "Oh, 'And I met Joey Lombardo in a sandwich shop?' "
Halprin scoffed at Rodgers' claim that his dealings with Wemette were on behalf of the mob. He suggested the two were just close friends and noted that Rodgers had once driven Wemette's car to California. Even some jurors smiled as Rodgers said that had been a stolen car -- with Wemette's plates on it.
Also Wednesday, prosecutors played for jurors undercover audio recordings of Lombardo from a 1979 investigation into labor racketeer Allen Dorfman. Lombardo could be heard threatening the life of a casino owner who failed to repay a loan.
And defense lawyers cross-examined Wemette, who had testified about paying street tax to the Outfit from his adult bookstore. Halprin asked Wemette when he had given the FBI information on the sensational 1955 murders of young brothers John and Anton Schuessler and their friend Robert Peterson. In a bid to undercut Wemette's credibility, the defense brought out that Wemette claimed that Kenneth Hansen had confessed to the triple murder in 1968 and that he tipped off the FBI in 1971. Yet Hansen wasn't charged and convicted until the 1990s.
"The people I did speak to about it were really not interested in what I had to say." Wemette said.
Prosecutors repeatedly objected, and Halprin was forced to drop the matter.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
The Shark Attacks: Analysis of Family Secrets Mob Trial for 6/27
Attorney Joseph "The Shark" Lopez, who is representing Frank Calabrese Sr. in the Chicago Family Secrets Mob Trial, has agreed to provide us with updates on his observations and thoughts regarding the various court proceedings.
Today, Shark responds to the testimony of porn shop owner, William "Red" Wemette, Alva Rogers, and Jim Wagner
Today, Shark responds to the testimony of porn shop owner, William "Red" Wemette, Alva Rogers, and Jim Wagner
"What a day in court! Red Wemette as usual was a classic. Alva Rodgers, forgetaboutit! Lombardo's lawyer flattened him out. What a character. He used run the G&O at Grand and Ogden, I think it was on the southwest corner where Timo is now. There was a strip mall, it was kitty corner to the bike shop that is now a restaurant called Twisted Spoke. It was back in the day as they would say.
Rodgers is 78 and looks the part of grandpa with a mean streak. He went to the West Coast to tell someone to join the association. Not clear what that means, but he went by car. The jury is paying close attention to everything happening. The ex-FBI agent (James Wagner, now president of the Chicago Crime Commission) was kind of boring. It's clear he makes a lot more in the private sector than he did as government employee. Some people love the public service. He clearly did (as) he was on the force for a long time.
Back to Alva, get the transcript, Halprin was great as usual. He hammered away but in the end it was unclear why Alva was here. It had nothing to do with the charges.
Finally, Red (Wemette) admitted the IRS was on him. Alva said the same. Red admitted he lied under oath. Tomorrow is another day. At least we got Marcus Funk up there today, he added a new dimension to the prosecution team with his young blood and he is quite a sailor." - Shark
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Lombardo Feels Like Sadaam
Friends of ours: Joey "The Clown" Lombardo, James Marcello, John “No Nose” DiFronzo, Alphonse “Pizza Al” Tornabene
He has one of the most famous names in Chicago. It ranks right up there with Daley, Sandburg, Oprah and Susie Snowflake. I’m talking about Joe Padula. Some brave people call him “Lumpy.”
His real name is Joe Lombardo. You probably know him as “Joey the Clown,” currently standing trial in federal court in Chicago as the highest-ranking member of the Chicago Outfit.
For more than 50 years, Joey “the Clown” Lombardo has had the most prominent moniker in a fraternity where everybody knows your nickname.
As you know, most clowns don’t talk much. They’re more into pantomime, sight gags and slapstick.
Joe Lombardo’s actions have always spoken louder than his words. Like when the feds say he gave the nod to Outfit hit men to kill people, including witnesses set to testify against him. Or when, the feds say, he had a guy killed in front of his wife and 4-year-old son. Or when he bribed and extorted people, skimmed from Las Vegas casinos, and stole from labor unions.
He’s never really talked much. There was the newspaper he once used as a facemask, complete with cutaway eyeholes, to hide from reporters after a court appearance.
Lombardo’s favorite pose for police mug shots was with his mouth stretched wide open, as if at the dentist, disfiguring his facial features.
Now 78, Lombardo must be going soft on the pratfalls and practical jokes. As he sat in court last week, he wanted to talk about serious things. With me.
Our conversation took place during a break while the lawyers were out of the room. A few deputy U.S. Marshals stood nearby to make sure the Clown didn’t try to escape in his wheelchair or use his cane as a ball bat.
He was talking with a deputy about how people in all types of jobs are replaceable. Even his job, Lombardo said, whatever that may be. And then the Clown looked squarely at me and said, “If reporters are killed, they’re replaceable too.”
What a jokester.
He muttered something about cockroaches and mosquitoes.
“I watched you when you were reporting in Iraq,” he then told me, referring to TV stories I filed from the Middle East last year. He said he watched on a big screen TV.
That means he was watching TV news in his final days of freedom. After being a federal fugitive for nine months, Lombardo was nabbed on Jan. 13, 2006, in Elmwood Park, a few days after I left Baghdad. “I feel like Saddam sitting here,” he told me. “I know what he felt must’ve felt like.”
Like Saddam, Lombardo was sporting a full, fluffy beard when he was arrested after hiding out. And like Saddam, who was hanged for the execution-murders of 148 people, Lombardo could effectively face a death sentence. At his age, if convicted, his sentence will ensure he will never again see freedom and will die in prison.
“You were right,” he told me. “When you were over there in Iraq. It’s all about the First Amendment. Freedom of Speech.”
“Do you know who should be here in this courtroom?” Lombardo asked me.
Without waiting for my answer, he provided his own. “Bush and Cheney,” he said.
“What would you charge them with?” I asked the man charged in a case that includes 18 gangland murders.
Lombardo thought for a moment and answered “murder.”
“Look at all those people who have been killed or injured,” he said, citing the thousands of Americans and Iraqis.
And then he said Bush and Cheney are like two bank robbers. If one shoots and kills a teller, the other is still liable for murder. Just like Bush and Cheney, he said.
Lombardo was about 15 feet away from me. He was sitting at the defense table, but another of the five defendants was seated between us. Jimmy Marcello, a Lombardo underboss, stared straight ahead as our words passed in front of him.
Marcello, or “Little Jimmy,” never said a word or acknowledged the conversation. Maybe Marcello, 65, was just deferring to his elder.
My tête-à -tête with Lombardo ended with a final shot from the Clown.
“They still don’t have the guy, do they?” he asked, implying that there was some mega-mobster out there still calling the shots.
“Who is the guy that they don’t have?” I asked Lombardo, thinking he was about to drop the name of John “No Nose” DiFronzo or Alphonse “Pizza Al” Tornabene. But Joe Lombardo was still thinking globally. “They still don’t have the guy, Osama bin Laden.”
But they have the Clown. And that’s no joke.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
He has one of the most famous names in Chicago. It ranks right up there with Daley, Sandburg, Oprah and Susie Snowflake. I’m talking about Joe Padula. Some brave people call him “Lumpy.”
His real name is Joe Lombardo. You probably know him as “Joey the Clown,” currently standing trial in federal court in Chicago as the highest-ranking member of the Chicago Outfit.
For more than 50 years, Joey “the Clown” Lombardo has had the most prominent moniker in a fraternity where everybody knows your nickname.
As you know, most clowns don’t talk much. They’re more into pantomime, sight gags and slapstick.
Joe Lombardo’s actions have always spoken louder than his words. Like when the feds say he gave the nod to Outfit hit men to kill people, including witnesses set to testify against him. Or when, the feds say, he had a guy killed in front of his wife and 4-year-old son. Or when he bribed and extorted people, skimmed from Las Vegas casinos, and stole from labor unions.
He’s never really talked much. There was the newspaper he once used as a facemask, complete with cutaway eyeholes, to hide from reporters after a court appearance.
Lombardo’s favorite pose for police mug shots was with his mouth stretched wide open, as if at the dentist, disfiguring his facial features.
Now 78, Lombardo must be going soft on the pratfalls and practical jokes. As he sat in court last week, he wanted to talk about serious things. With me.
Our conversation took place during a break while the lawyers were out of the room. A few deputy U.S. Marshals stood nearby to make sure the Clown didn’t try to escape in his wheelchair or use his cane as a ball bat.
He was talking with a deputy about how people in all types of jobs are replaceable. Even his job, Lombardo said, whatever that may be. And then the Clown looked squarely at me and said, “If reporters are killed, they’re replaceable too.”
What a jokester.
He muttered something about cockroaches and mosquitoes.
“I watched you when you were reporting in Iraq,” he then told me, referring to TV stories I filed from the Middle East last year. He said he watched on a big screen TV.
That means he was watching TV news in his final days of freedom. After being a federal fugitive for nine months, Lombardo was nabbed on Jan. 13, 2006, in Elmwood Park, a few days after I left Baghdad. “I feel like Saddam sitting here,” he told me. “I know what he felt must’ve felt like.”
Like Saddam, Lombardo was sporting a full, fluffy beard when he was arrested after hiding out. And like Saddam, who was hanged for the execution-murders of 148 people, Lombardo could effectively face a death sentence. At his age, if convicted, his sentence will ensure he will never again see freedom and will die in prison.“You were right,” he told me. “When you were over there in Iraq. It’s all about the First Amendment. Freedom of Speech.”
“Do you know who should be here in this courtroom?” Lombardo asked me.
Without waiting for my answer, he provided his own. “Bush and Cheney,” he said.
“What would you charge them with?” I asked the man charged in a case that includes 18 gangland murders.
Lombardo thought for a moment and answered “murder.”
“Look at all those people who have been killed or injured,” he said, citing the thousands of Americans and Iraqis.
And then he said Bush and Cheney are like two bank robbers. If one shoots and kills a teller, the other is still liable for murder. Just like Bush and Cheney, he said.
Lombardo was about 15 feet away from me. He was sitting at the defense table, but another of the five defendants was seated between us. Jimmy Marcello, a Lombardo underboss, stared straight ahead as our words passed in front of him.
Marcello, or “Little Jimmy,” never said a word or acknowledged the conversation. Maybe Marcello, 65, was just deferring to his elder.
My tête-à -tête with Lombardo ended with a final shot from the Clown.
“They still don’t have the guy, do they?” he asked, implying that there was some mega-mobster out there still calling the shots.
“Who is the guy that they don’t have?” I asked Lombardo, thinking he was about to drop the name of John “No Nose” DiFronzo or Alphonse “Pizza Al” Tornabene. But Joe Lombardo was still thinking globally. “They still don’t have the guy, Osama bin Laden.”
But they have the Clown. And that’s no joke.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
Prosecution Portraying Lombardo as Top Level Mobster
Friends of ours: Joseph Aiuppa, Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo
Friends of mine: Alan Dorfman
Chicago’s top mob boss Joseph Aiuppa wasn’t happy.
He was at a meeting in a suburban restaurant in April 1979 with another reputed top mobster, Joseph “Joey the Clown” Lombardo, and Alan Dorfman, an insurance executive who was the middleman between the mob and the Teamsters pension fund.
Aiuppa was jamming his finger and hands into the table to accentuate his points, according to retired FBI Agent Art Pfizenmayer, who testified today on the meeting he did surveillance on. “Dorfman kind of sat there with his hands in his lap,” Pfizenmayer said.
Pfizenmayer was sitting at the bar and could only hear a few snatches of conversation over the tinkle of glasses as the bartender cleaned up from the lunch crowd and the piped-in music.
Pfizenmayer’s testimony was part of the prosecution’s effort to establish that Lombardo was a mobster involved in the very top level of mob communications. Lombardo is charged with four other men as part of the historic Family Secrets mob case in federal court in Chicago.
Dorfman would later be killed in 1983 after he was convicted with Lombardo of conspiring to bribe U.S. Sen. Howard Cannon. Federal authorities have said Aiuppa approved Dorfman’s murder.
Earlier in the day at trial, former Old Town porn shop owner William “Red” Wemette underwent vigorous questioning by Lombardo’s attorney, Rick Halprin.
Wemette had earlier testified that he paid street tax payments to men he believed were Lombardo’s underlings. But under questioning by Halprin, Wemette testified he had never personally given Lombardo a dime.
Wemette also admitted he signed a false affidavit in the 1970s with IRS agents in which he described payments he made to an alleged Lombardo associate as being part of a business deal, rather than street tax payments.
Wemette, though, testified he had a separate, secret source relationship with the FBI, to whom he told the truth about the street tax payments.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
Friends of mine: Alan Dorfman
Chicago’s top mob boss Joseph Aiuppa wasn’t happy.
He was at a meeting in a suburban restaurant in April 1979 with another reputed top mobster, Joseph “Joey the Clown” Lombardo, and Alan Dorfman, an insurance executive who was the middleman between the mob and the Teamsters pension fund.
Aiuppa was jamming his finger and hands into the table to accentuate his points, according to retired FBI Agent Art Pfizenmayer, who testified today on the meeting he did surveillance on. “Dorfman kind of sat there with his hands in his lap,” Pfizenmayer said.
Pfizenmayer was sitting at the bar and could only hear a few snatches of conversation over the tinkle of glasses as the bartender cleaned up from the lunch crowd and the piped-in music.
Pfizenmayer’s testimony was part of the prosecution’s effort to establish that Lombardo was a mobster involved in the very top level of mob communications. Lombardo is charged with four other men as part of the historic Family Secrets mob case in federal court in Chicago.
Dorfman would later be killed in 1983 after he was convicted with Lombardo of conspiring to bribe U.S. Sen. Howard Cannon. Federal authorities have said Aiuppa approved Dorfman’s murder.
Earlier in the day at trial, former Old Town porn shop owner William “Red” Wemette underwent vigorous questioning by Lombardo’s attorney, Rick Halprin.
Wemette had earlier testified that he paid street tax payments to men he believed were Lombardo’s underlings. But under questioning by Halprin, Wemette testified he had never personally given Lombardo a dime.
Wemette also admitted he signed a false affidavit in the 1970s with IRS agents in which he described payments he made to an alleged Lombardo associate as being part of a business deal, rather than street tax payments.
Wemette, though, testified he had a separate, secret source relationship with the FBI, to whom he told the truth about the street tax payments.
Thanks to Steve Warmbir
All American Mafioso: The Johnny Roselli
Friends of ours, Johnny Rosselli, Al Capone
Big news this week when the CIA released several internal reports known as the "family jewels". The plethora or reports brought out additional confirmation the Mob was hired by the CIA to kill Castro. Cheri Rohn, who co-wrote Thief! The Gutsy, True Story of an Ex-Con Artist
with Slick Hanner reminded me that this CIA material was spelled out in detail in the 1991 book, All American Mafioso: The Johnny Rosselli. It was written by Charles Rappleye and Ed Becker. Proving it is a small world, Ed Becker was the literay agent for Thief.
In All-American Mafioso
, Rosselli, brought to this country from Italy as a child, was a key figure in organized crime for decades until he was murdered in 1976. Los Angeles freelance journalist Rappleye and private eye Becker trace the rise of this gangster who began his career working for Al Capone, moved to Hollywood at a time when the mob was making inroads into the film industry, switched his residence to Las Vegas when the first Cosa Nostra-financed casinos were built, and played a major role in the CIA's abortive attempts to assassinate Fidel Castro. The book draws a deeply depressing picture of American life with its contention that many important figures in business and politics are beholden to the Mafia, including John Kennedy, who, the authors suggest, was killed by the mob.
Big news this week when the CIA released several internal reports known as the "family jewels". The plethora or reports brought out additional confirmation the Mob was hired by the CIA to kill Castro. Cheri Rohn, who co-wrote Thief! The Gutsy, True Story of an Ex-Con Artist
with Slick Hanner reminded me that this CIA material was spelled out in detail in the 1991 book, All American Mafioso: The Johnny Rosselli. It was written by Charles Rappleye and Ed Becker. Proving it is a small world, Ed Becker was the literay agent for Thief.In All-American Mafioso
, Rosselli, brought to this country from Italy as a child, was a key figure in organized crime for decades until he was murdered in 1976. Los Angeles freelance journalist Rappleye and private eye Becker trace the rise of this gangster who began his career working for Al Capone, moved to Hollywood at a time when the mob was making inroads into the film industry, switched his residence to Las Vegas when the first Cosa Nostra-financed casinos were built, and played a major role in the CIA's abortive attempts to assassinate Fidel Castro. The book draws a deeply depressing picture of American life with its contention that many important figures in business and politics are beholden to the Mafia, including John Kennedy, who, the authors suggest, was killed by the mob.
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