Lev L. Dassin, Acting U. S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York, Joseph Demarest, Assistant Director in Charge of the New York Office of the FBI, and Raymond W. Kelly, Police Commissioner of the City of New York (NYPD), announced the unsealing of a 38-count indictment (the Leo indictment) against 12 defendants, including Daniel Leo, the alleged former acting boss, and various members and associates of the Genovese Organized Crime Family of La Cosa Nostra. The Leo indictment charges the defendants with racketeering and other offenses, including violent extortions of individuals and businesses, loansharking, narcotics trafficking and operation of illegal gambling businesses.
Also announced was the unsealing of a second indictment (the Tassiello indictment), charging Genovese associate Thomas Tassiello, a/k/a “Tommy,” with racketeering, extortion and other charges. Shortly after Tassiello’s arrest today, FBI agents executed a search warrant at the New Jersey residence of Andy Gerardo, a member of the Genovese Organized Crime Family, which was used by members and associates of the Genovese Organized Crime Family in connection with their illegal activities.
Anthony Palumbo, Rocco Petrozza, Patsy Aversa, Joseph Petullo, Arthur Boland and Tassiello were arrested this morning at their homes by members of the Joint Organized Crime Task Force, which includes agents of the FBI and detectives of the NYPD. Felice Masullo, Anthony Masullo and Angelo Masullo surrendered earlier today in Magistrate Court. Daniel Leo, Charles Salzano, Joseph Leo and Vincent Cotona are in federal custody on other charges.
According to the Leo Indictment, unsealed today in Manhattan federal court: Daniel Leo, Charles Salzano, Rocco Petrozza, Felice Masullo, Patsy Aversa, Vincent Cotona, Joseph Leo, Joseph Petullo, Anthony Masullo and Angelo Masullo participated in racketeering offenses related to the affairs of the Genovese Organized Crime Family. Daniel Leo served as acting boss of the Genovese Family beginning in approximately 2005. During the time he served as acting boss, he supervised racketeering crimes of his own “crew” of Genovese Family members and associates, including Soldier Charles Salzano and associates Joseph Leo and Arthur Boland. Salzano and Joseph Leo are charged with various racketeering offenses, including loansharking and operation of an illegal gambling business.
Additional charges against defendants named in the indictment include making and collecting extortionate loans to small business owners and other individuals, including owners and operators of bartending schools in New York City and New Jersey, and threatening victims with physical harm if they did not repay the loans.
In 2006, Daniel Leo placed long-time Soldier and Acting Capo Anthony Palumbo in charge of the New Jersey operations of the Genovese Family. Palumbo and other New Jersey-based family members and associates under his supervision, including his driver Felice Massulo and Soldier Rocco Petrozza, are charged with, among other offenses, forcibly taking over a small business in Jersey City, N.J., to collect payment on a loanshark loan. Petrozza and associates Patzy Aversa, Vincent Cotona, and Joseph Petullo are charged with extortion of the owners and operators of this same business.
Felice Masullo – who served as Palumbo’s driver and was proposed as a member of the Genovese Family – is charged with his brothers, Anthony Masullo and Angelo Masullo, with racketeering offenses including the trafficking of cocaine and crack cocaine, loansharking, and operating an illegal sports-betting business.
According to the Tassiello indictment, unsealed today in Manhattan federal court: Beginning in at least 2004, through the date of the indictment, the defendant, Thomas Tassiello, a/k/a “Tommy,” used his status as an associate of the Genovese Organized Crime Family to make a string of extortionate loans to Manhattan-based small business owners and to threaten them with physical violence and other harm when they failed to make prompt repayment of their loans. In one instance, Tassiello took ownership interest in a Manhattan bar after its owner did not keep up with weekly interest payments on a series of loans totaling approximately $100,000.
After Tassiello became aware of a federal investigation into his loansharking operation, he instructed his victims to provide false and misleading information to a federal grand jury and special agents of the FBI.
Tassiello is also charged with the operation of an illegal gambling business that engaged in sports bookmaking and illegal lottery schemes, and the transportation across state lines of stolen property.
Tassiello is charged with two counts of racketeering, six counts of conspiracy to make and collect extortionate loans, one count of interstate transportation of stolen property and one count of operating an unlawful gambling business. If convicted of all the charges contained in the indictment, Tassiello, 61, of New York City, faces a maximum sentence of 70 years in prison.
All of the defendants who were arrested today appeared before a U.S. Magistrate Judge. Daniel Leo, Charles Salzano, Joseph Leo and Vincent Cotona are expected to be arraigned on Wednesday, Feb. 11, 2009, at noon.
Mr. Dassin praised the work of the Joint Organized Crime Task Force in the investigation, and added that the investigation is continuing.
Assistant U.S. Attorneys David B. Massey, Avi Weitzman, John T. Zach and Steve Kwok are in charge of the prosecutions. he charges contained in the indictments are merely accusations, and the defendants are presumed innocent unless and until proven guilty.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Will Multiple Mob Murders be Solved by Operation Family Secrets - Part Two?
One of my loyal readers, Chicago mob boss James Marcello—captured on grainy federal recordings eating salty corn chips while discussing my column—will be sentenced in the "Family Secrets" case on Thursday.
Marcello, 66, may receive life in prison for his conviction of racketeering conspiracy in connection with previously unsolved Chicago Outfit murders.
The movie "Casino" incorrectly depicted Chicago mob brothers Anthony and Michael Spilotro beaten to death in an Indiana cornfield in 1986. But the trial showed that Marcello drove the Spilotros to a Bensenville home, where Michael thought he was going to become a "made member" of the Outfit. Bosses from every crew waited in the rumpus room for the brothers, who were beaten, strangled, their bodies dumped in the corn.
Dr. Pat Spilotro—dentist brother of the slain men—is scheduled to give a statement before U.S. District Court Judge James Zagel. Dr. Pat has been secretly working with the FBI for years. He's expected to name other mobsters he believes should also pay for the killings.
Many of the murders involved Nick Calabrese, the hit man turned federal witness, who spilled what he knew on his family and others, giving this case the name "Family Secrets."
So, how do I know Jimmy Marcello reads this column? It came up in trial evidence and federal tape.
In late February 2003, at the federal prison in Milan, Mich., the imprisoned Marcello is sitting with a visitor, his close friend Nick "The Caterer" Vangel, a Greek businessman so nicknamed by wise guys because he once owned The Carlisle banquet hall in Lombard.
That was a day or so after my column of Feb. 21, 2003, about Nick Calabrese entering the witness protection program, prepared to testify about the Spilotro and other hits. Nick Calabrese killed dozens of men, but the prospect of his testimony terrified the Outfit and they were trying to find out more.
"I just saw this last thing in the Trib," Vangel tells Marcello on the FBI surveillance tape about the column.
Marcello responds in Outfit code, with winks and nods. He also does another strange thing: Since they're talking murder, Marcello begins chomping on a bag of tasty snack food: Fritos. That's a Super Bowl commercial if I ever saw one.
As Vangel tells Marcello of Nick Calabrese, of bosses swabbed for DNA, of the murders being investigated and speculates about the grand jury, Marcello makes furtive motions with his eyebrows and hands. But he can't stop gobbling his crunchy fried corn.
Family Secrets cleared many Outfit killings. But others remain unsolved, perhaps waiting for a "Family Secrets II."
One mystery is the disappearance of mob boss Anthony Zizzo in September 2006, as prosecutors prepared their case. Zizzo vanished. His car turned up in the parking lot of a Melrose Park restaurant. He had been scheduled to meet some guys on Rush Street, but never made it. Imagine that.
Another is the 2001 murder of mob boss Anthony "The Hatch" Chiaramonti, gunned down in a Brown's Chicken restaurant in Lyons, the sign out front inviting customers to eat their fill "The Chicago Way."
And the 1998 killing of Michael Cutler, who was scheduled to testify in the case against Frank Caruso Jr., the son of the current reputed Outfit street boss Frank "Toots" Caruso. Junior had been charged with the savage beating of Lenard Clark, a black teenager, in Bridgeport. Cutler saw it all. But before he could testify, Cutler was shot once in the chest in what was called a random West Side robbery.
Random? If you say so.
The unsolved 1999 murder of hit man Ronnie Jarrett, killed outside his Bridgeport home, was believed to have been ordered by mobster Frank Calabrese (brother of Nick Calabrese), who last week was sentenced to life, but was never charged with the Jarrett hit.
One incredibly puzzling death hasn't even been listed as a hit. Outfit bookie and city worker Nick "The Stick" LoCoco—tangled in the City Hall Hired Truck scandal—loved to ride horses. In November 2004, the bookie went for a canter in the woods, fell off his steed and died. On a Sunday, with NFL games under way and money on the line, a bookie goes for a horseback ride? Isn't that odd?
Marcello will have plenty of time to ponder all this and read my column while munching on his Fritos, day after day after day. Betcha Jimmy can't eat just one.
Thanks to John Kass
Marcello, 66, may receive life in prison for his conviction of racketeering conspiracy in connection with previously unsolved Chicago Outfit murders.
The movie "Casino" incorrectly depicted Chicago mob brothers Anthony and Michael Spilotro beaten to death in an Indiana cornfield in 1986. But the trial showed that Marcello drove the Spilotros to a Bensenville home, where Michael thought he was going to become a "made member" of the Outfit. Bosses from every crew waited in the rumpus room for the brothers, who were beaten, strangled, their bodies dumped in the corn.
Dr. Pat Spilotro—dentist brother of the slain men—is scheduled to give a statement before U.S. District Court Judge James Zagel. Dr. Pat has been secretly working with the FBI for years. He's expected to name other mobsters he believes should also pay for the killings.
Many of the murders involved Nick Calabrese, the hit man turned federal witness, who spilled what he knew on his family and others, giving this case the name "Family Secrets."
So, how do I know Jimmy Marcello reads this column? It came up in trial evidence and federal tape.
In late February 2003, at the federal prison in Milan, Mich., the imprisoned Marcello is sitting with a visitor, his close friend Nick "The Caterer" Vangel, a Greek businessman so nicknamed by wise guys because he once owned The Carlisle banquet hall in Lombard.
That was a day or so after my column of Feb. 21, 2003, about Nick Calabrese entering the witness protection program, prepared to testify about the Spilotro and other hits. Nick Calabrese killed dozens of men, but the prospect of his testimony terrified the Outfit and they were trying to find out more.
"I just saw this last thing in the Trib," Vangel tells Marcello on the FBI surveillance tape about the column.
Marcello responds in Outfit code, with winks and nods. He also does another strange thing: Since they're talking murder, Marcello begins chomping on a bag of tasty snack food: Fritos. That's a Super Bowl commercial if I ever saw one.
As Vangel tells Marcello of Nick Calabrese, of bosses swabbed for DNA, of the murders being investigated and speculates about the grand jury, Marcello makes furtive motions with his eyebrows and hands. But he can't stop gobbling his crunchy fried corn.
Family Secrets cleared many Outfit killings. But others remain unsolved, perhaps waiting for a "Family Secrets II."
One mystery is the disappearance of mob boss Anthony Zizzo in September 2006, as prosecutors prepared their case. Zizzo vanished. His car turned up in the parking lot of a Melrose Park restaurant. He had been scheduled to meet some guys on Rush Street, but never made it. Imagine that.
Another is the 2001 murder of mob boss Anthony "The Hatch" Chiaramonti, gunned down in a Brown's Chicken restaurant in Lyons, the sign out front inviting customers to eat their fill "The Chicago Way."
And the 1998 killing of Michael Cutler, who was scheduled to testify in the case against Frank Caruso Jr., the son of the current reputed Outfit street boss Frank "Toots" Caruso. Junior had been charged with the savage beating of Lenard Clark, a black teenager, in Bridgeport. Cutler saw it all. But before he could testify, Cutler was shot once in the chest in what was called a random West Side robbery.
Random? If you say so.
The unsolved 1999 murder of hit man Ronnie Jarrett, killed outside his Bridgeport home, was believed to have been ordered by mobster Frank Calabrese (brother of Nick Calabrese), who last week was sentenced to life, but was never charged with the Jarrett hit.
One incredibly puzzling death hasn't even been listed as a hit. Outfit bookie and city worker Nick "The Stick" LoCoco—tangled in the City Hall Hired Truck scandal—loved to ride horses. In November 2004, the bookie went for a canter in the woods, fell off his steed and died. On a Sunday, with NFL games under way and money on the line, a bookie goes for a horseback ride? Isn't that odd?
Marcello will have plenty of time to ponder all this and read my column while munching on his Fritos, day after day after day. Betcha Jimmy can't eat just one.
Thanks to John Kass
Thursday, February 05, 2009
James Marcello, Highest Ranking Mobster Charged in Operation Family Secrets, Sentenced to Life in Prison
In the long history of the Chicago Outfit, few murders have captured national attention like the killings of Anthony and Michael Spilotro, two brothers found battered and buried in an Indiana cornfield in 1986.
On Thursday, the man reputed to be the one-time head of the Chicago mob stood before a federal judge with an emotionless stare, his hands folded in front of him as he prepared to hear his sentence for his role in the Spilotro killings. James Marcello's expression didn't change as U.S. District Judge James Zagel sentenced him to life behind bars. Marcello was believed to be the highest-ranking mobster felled by the 2007 Family Secrets mob conspiracy trial, and he was held responsible for its marquee murder.
The Spilotros were killed for bringing too much heat to the mob's lucrative arm in Las Vegas, then headed by Anthony Spilotro. The brothers' deaths were immortalized in the movie "Casino," which showed them being beaten with bats in a farmer's dark field.
The Family Secrets trial cleared up many of the myths surrounding the killings. Testifying for the government, mob turncoat Nicholas Calabrese explained how the brothers were actually lured to a suburban Chicago home with the promise of promotions but were jumped in a basement by a hit team.
In some of the most riveting testimony of the trial, Calabrese recounted how the men walked down the basement stairs. Realizing his fate, Anthony Spilotro asked whether he could say a prayer.
That moment was not lost on one of their brothers, Patrick Spilotro, a suburban dentist who aided federal authorities in the Family Secrets investigation. Spilotro was one of three relatives to address the court during Marcello's sentencing hearing and ask for a just punishment. Those who "denied my brothers a prayer . . ." he said, his voice trailing off, "deserve no mercy."
Prosecutors alleged Marcello drove Calabrese and others to the murder scene. He might have known how his actions would hurt others, Patrick Spilotro said, as Marcello lost his father in an Outfit killing.
Assistant U.S. Atty. Markus Funk argued for a stiff sentence, describing Marcello as more cunning, courteous and adept than the other mob figures at the trial. In short, he was management material. "That is why he, unlike them, is in a different position in the Outfit," Funk said.
Marcello's lawyers, Marc Martin and Thomas Breen, told the judge there was little they could say that had not been repeated often during the trial. Marcello pleaded not guilty and always maintained his innocence, they said. "Mr. Marcello has denied his involvement in the Spilotro brothers' murder as well as [a third murder]," Breen said. "That's all he can do."
When Zagel offered him a chance to address the court, Marcello declined, as many convicted reputed mobsters have historically done.
The judge then echoed Funk as he handed down the sentence, saying Marcello had shown self-control and judgment throughout the trial, unlike others who had sometimes come unglued. It was most significant to Zagel that "you could have done better," the judge told Marcello. "You know how to do better."
Marcello spent most of the hearing looking relaxed in a dark olive suit, even when the son of another of his victims turned from the courtroom lectern to stare him down. Bob D'Andrea's father, Nicholas, was beaten to death in 1981 while mob leaders were questioning him about an unauthorized attempt on the life of a ranking Outfit member.
D'Andrea told Marcello to imagine his father's pain as he was beaten with the butt of a shotgun while tied up in the back of a car. One day, Marcello will have to explain himself to God, D'Andrea said. "I hope Mr. Marcello has some good answers for him," he said. "That's not life. That's eternity."
At the defense table, Marcello sat still, one hand resting on his cheek.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
On Thursday, the man reputed to be the one-time head of the Chicago mob stood before a federal judge with an emotionless stare, his hands folded in front of him as he prepared to hear his sentence for his role in the Spilotro killings. James Marcello's expression didn't change as U.S. District Judge James Zagel sentenced him to life behind bars. Marcello was believed to be the highest-ranking mobster felled by the 2007 Family Secrets mob conspiracy trial, and he was held responsible for its marquee murder.
The Spilotros were killed for bringing too much heat to the mob's lucrative arm in Las Vegas, then headed by Anthony Spilotro. The brothers' deaths were immortalized in the movie "Casino," which showed them being beaten with bats in a farmer's dark field.
The Family Secrets trial cleared up many of the myths surrounding the killings. Testifying for the government, mob turncoat Nicholas Calabrese explained how the brothers were actually lured to a suburban Chicago home with the promise of promotions but were jumped in a basement by a hit team.
In some of the most riveting testimony of the trial, Calabrese recounted how the men walked down the basement stairs. Realizing his fate, Anthony Spilotro asked whether he could say a prayer.
That moment was not lost on one of their brothers, Patrick Spilotro, a suburban dentist who aided federal authorities in the Family Secrets investigation. Spilotro was one of three relatives to address the court during Marcello's sentencing hearing and ask for a just punishment. Those who "denied my brothers a prayer . . ." he said, his voice trailing off, "deserve no mercy."
Prosecutors alleged Marcello drove Calabrese and others to the murder scene. He might have known how his actions would hurt others, Patrick Spilotro said, as Marcello lost his father in an Outfit killing.
Assistant U.S. Atty. Markus Funk argued for a stiff sentence, describing Marcello as more cunning, courteous and adept than the other mob figures at the trial. In short, he was management material. "That is why he, unlike them, is in a different position in the Outfit," Funk said.
Marcello's lawyers, Marc Martin and Thomas Breen, told the judge there was little they could say that had not been repeated often during the trial. Marcello pleaded not guilty and always maintained his innocence, they said. "Mr. Marcello has denied his involvement in the Spilotro brothers' murder as well as [a third murder]," Breen said. "That's all he can do."
When Zagel offered him a chance to address the court, Marcello declined, as many convicted reputed mobsters have historically done.
The judge then echoed Funk as he handed down the sentence, saying Marcello had shown self-control and judgment throughout the trial, unlike others who had sometimes come unglued. It was most significant to Zagel that "you could have done better," the judge told Marcello. "You know how to do better."
Marcello spent most of the hearing looking relaxed in a dark olive suit, even when the son of another of his victims turned from the courtroom lectern to stare him down. Bob D'Andrea's father, Nicholas, was beaten to death in 1981 while mob leaders were questioning him about an unauthorized attempt on the life of a ranking Outfit member.
D'Andrea told Marcello to imagine his father's pain as he was beaten with the butt of a shotgun while tied up in the back of a car. One day, Marcello will have to explain himself to God, D'Andrea said. "I hope Mr. Marcello has some good answers for him," he said. "That's not life. That's eternity."
At the defense table, Marcello sat still, one hand resting on his cheek.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
Court Officers Fill Gallery to Honor Murdered Colleague at Mob Trial
It was a courtroom, but the court officers seemed out of place. They were not escorting prisoners or guarding a judge, shepherding the family of a defendant or quieting a crowd. They were the crowd.
In federal court in Brooklyn on Tuesday, in a rare rendering of a grim law enforcement rite, court officers filled the rows of the gallery to honor the memory of a colleague killed in the line of duty. The ritual, one that the city’s police officers have become woefully accustomed to, was unusual for the court officers, who, in the last 40 years, have lost only a handful of their number in violent circumstances.
The occasion was the trial of Charles Carneglia, who is accused of murdering Officer Albert Gelb, a decorated court officer, and several others.
Officer Gelb was fatally shot in 1976, and his death remained a mystery for more than three decades. The authorities, who accused Mr. Carneglia last year in a wide-ranging racketeering case in which 61 others were also charged, say the killing was mob related.
Also in court was Emily Gelb, Officer Gelb’s sister, listening as Peter Zuccaro, a burly Gambino family associate who became a government informant, testified about the killing. Ms. Gelb buried her face in her hands as Mr. Zuccaro matter-of-factly talked about beating her brother and of later hearing from his associate, Mr. Carneglia, a reputed Gambino soldier, about his death.
About two dozen court officers, wearing suits rather than uniforms, filled up several rows. They said they knew about Officer Gelb from stories told at the Court Officers’ Academy and from the plaque dedicated to him in criminal court in Brooklyn, where he had worked.
Officer Gelb, 24 when he was killed, was the most decorated court officer in the city at the time, making arrests, both on and off duty, of men with guns and a purse snatcher.
“He didn’t have to get involved,” said Sgt. Tim Smyth, a court officer, outside court. Mr. Zuccaro’s testimony had been tough to watch, he said. “It made it real.”
The state’s 4,000 court officers protect and secure courtrooms and court buildings. They guard defendants and sequestered juries, keep guns out of courthouses and escort judges to their cars (and in some cases, when the judges receive threats, guard them at home). They are authorized to carry weapons when they are off-duty.
In interviews, court officers said their work was not without dangers, although nothing like those faced by police officers. They are not out on the streets alone, or forced to confront heavily armed criminals.
Dennis Quirk, who has been president of one of the two court officers’ unions since 1974, said that he and his colleagues had to master different skills, like subduing attackers in the courtroom without using guns. “The perps we’re dealing with are criminals who we know don’t have a weapon,” he said.
The perils court officers confront are courthouse scuffles and the occasional riot, or the crush of observers at high-profile trials, officers said.
Lt. Jack Sullivan, 49, said in an interview that the trial of John A. Gotti in Manhattan, for example, was a circus. “There were as many people rooting for him as against him,” he said. Lieutenant Sullivan said he had taken his share of knocks, but he did not want to talk about his injuries in detail.
When court officers die in the line of duty, it is usually away from the safety of the courthouse
In 1973, Francis Carroll, an officer in Criminal Court in Manhattan, was shot to death trying to prevent the escape of two men who took $50 from the clerk of a Midtown hotel.
Alphonso B. Deal, another court officer, was also killed while off duty. Mr. Deal, a senior court clerk who worked in Lower Manhattan and lived in Harlem, was fatally shot in 1988 when he came to the aid of a neighbor who had been shot in a robbery attempt.
Senior Court Officers Mitchel Wallace and Thomas Jurgens as well as Capt. William Thompson died after they raced to the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001.
Then there was Officer Gelb, the son of a dry cleaner from Flatbush, Brooklyn, who in three years as a court officer racked up more arrests than many of his colleagues made in a career.
In February 1975, in the Esquire Diner in Brooklyn, he crossed paths with Mr. Carneglia, according to Mr. Zuccaro, who was in the diner at the time.
Officer Gelb wore a leather jacket and a big hat, and Mr. Carneglia wore two guns. Mr. Zuccaro said that he saw Officer Gelb and Mr. Carneglia struggling over a pistol, and that Mr. Carneglia had asked for his help.
Mr. Zuccaro said he had obliged. “I punched him to the side of the head,” he said. “I kicked him a couple of times.”
Mr. Carneglia was arrested on a charge of weapons possession and, Mr. Zuccaro testified that later, Mr. Carneglia told him that he was trying to “straighten it out” with Officer Gelb so that he would not testify against him.
In March 1976, before he was scheduled to testify against Mr. Carneglia, Officer Gelb was found dead in his car with four bullets in his body.
In court on Tuesday, Mr. Zuccaro testified about another conversation with Mr. Carneglia. “He told me that the guy couldn’t be reached,” Mr. Zuccaro said, “and that he wouldn’t back off and that he had to go.”
Thanks to Kareem Fahim
In federal court in Brooklyn on Tuesday, in a rare rendering of a grim law enforcement rite, court officers filled the rows of the gallery to honor the memory of a colleague killed in the line of duty. The ritual, one that the city’s police officers have become woefully accustomed to, was unusual for the court officers, who, in the last 40 years, have lost only a handful of their number in violent circumstances.
The occasion was the trial of Charles Carneglia, who is accused of murdering Officer Albert Gelb, a decorated court officer, and several others.
Officer Gelb was fatally shot in 1976, and his death remained a mystery for more than three decades. The authorities, who accused Mr. Carneglia last year in a wide-ranging racketeering case in which 61 others were also charged, say the killing was mob related.
Also in court was Emily Gelb, Officer Gelb’s sister, listening as Peter Zuccaro, a burly Gambino family associate who became a government informant, testified about the killing. Ms. Gelb buried her face in her hands as Mr. Zuccaro matter-of-factly talked about beating her brother and of later hearing from his associate, Mr. Carneglia, a reputed Gambino soldier, about his death.
About two dozen court officers, wearing suits rather than uniforms, filled up several rows. They said they knew about Officer Gelb from stories told at the Court Officers’ Academy and from the plaque dedicated to him in criminal court in Brooklyn, where he had worked.
Officer Gelb, 24 when he was killed, was the most decorated court officer in the city at the time, making arrests, both on and off duty, of men with guns and a purse snatcher.
“He didn’t have to get involved,” said Sgt. Tim Smyth, a court officer, outside court. Mr. Zuccaro’s testimony had been tough to watch, he said. “It made it real.”
The state’s 4,000 court officers protect and secure courtrooms and court buildings. They guard defendants and sequestered juries, keep guns out of courthouses and escort judges to their cars (and in some cases, when the judges receive threats, guard them at home). They are authorized to carry weapons when they are off-duty.
In interviews, court officers said their work was not without dangers, although nothing like those faced by police officers. They are not out on the streets alone, or forced to confront heavily armed criminals.
Dennis Quirk, who has been president of one of the two court officers’ unions since 1974, said that he and his colleagues had to master different skills, like subduing attackers in the courtroom without using guns. “The perps we’re dealing with are criminals who we know don’t have a weapon,” he said.
The perils court officers confront are courthouse scuffles and the occasional riot, or the crush of observers at high-profile trials, officers said.
Lt. Jack Sullivan, 49, said in an interview that the trial of John A. Gotti in Manhattan, for example, was a circus. “There were as many people rooting for him as against him,” he said. Lieutenant Sullivan said he had taken his share of knocks, but he did not want to talk about his injuries in detail.
When court officers die in the line of duty, it is usually away from the safety of the courthouse
In 1973, Francis Carroll, an officer in Criminal Court in Manhattan, was shot to death trying to prevent the escape of two men who took $50 from the clerk of a Midtown hotel.
Alphonso B. Deal, another court officer, was also killed while off duty. Mr. Deal, a senior court clerk who worked in Lower Manhattan and lived in Harlem, was fatally shot in 1988 when he came to the aid of a neighbor who had been shot in a robbery attempt.
Senior Court Officers Mitchel Wallace and Thomas Jurgens as well as Capt. William Thompson died after they raced to the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001.
Then there was Officer Gelb, the son of a dry cleaner from Flatbush, Brooklyn, who in three years as a court officer racked up more arrests than many of his colleagues made in a career.
In February 1975, in the Esquire Diner in Brooklyn, he crossed paths with Mr. Carneglia, according to Mr. Zuccaro, who was in the diner at the time.
Officer Gelb wore a leather jacket and a big hat, and Mr. Carneglia wore two guns. Mr. Zuccaro said that he saw Officer Gelb and Mr. Carneglia struggling over a pistol, and that Mr. Carneglia had asked for his help.
Mr. Zuccaro said he had obliged. “I punched him to the side of the head,” he said. “I kicked him a couple of times.”
Mr. Carneglia was arrested on a charge of weapons possession and, Mr. Zuccaro testified that later, Mr. Carneglia told him that he was trying to “straighten it out” with Officer Gelb so that he would not testify against him.
In March 1976, before he was scheduled to testify against Mr. Carneglia, Officer Gelb was found dead in his car with four bullets in his body.
In court on Tuesday, Mr. Zuccaro testified about another conversation with Mr. Carneglia. “He told me that the guy couldn’t be reached,” Mr. Zuccaro said, “and that he wouldn’t back off and that he had to go.”
Thanks to Kareem Fahim
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Joe Pistone - Legendary Lawman
Past issues of Legendary Lawmen have been key figures from our past. This month features a bit more recent individual. Many of you may already know him by his alias but may not know the story behind the man. Here is an individual that put his life on the line and his family on hold in an effort to bring down key figures within the mafia.
In 1969 Joe Pistone became an undercover FBI agent. In September 1976 he volunteered to infiltrate the Bonnano family and shortly there after, Donnie Brasco was born. Pistone would spend six years as a low-level jewel thief informing on the goings on inside the mob during some of the most volatile power struggles in organized crime. His story has been told in books, articles and in a major motion picture.
Joseph Dominick Pistone was born 1939 in Erie, Pennsylvania. Growing up in Paterson, New Jersey he graduated from Paterson State in 1965, receiving a degree in anthropology. Following a year as a teacher at Paterson School No. 10, Pistone secured a job at the Office of Naval Intelligence. From 1969 thru 1974 Pistone worked various jobs within the Bureau. In 1974 he was transferred to New York to work in the truck hijacking unit.
It was his ability to drive 18-wheeler and bulldozers that led him to work undercover infiltrating a vehicle theft ring. This assignment resulted in over 30 arrests and cemented Pistone's legend within law enforcement. Pistone was not only handy behind the wheel, he was also of Sicilian heritage and spoke Italian fluently. Of course growing up in Paterson, New Jersey didn't hurt matters either; he was already accustomed to the Mafia's idiosyncrasies.
During the 1970s there was a major influx of Sicilian mobsters coming to the United States which caused a great deal of tension with their U.S. counterparts. Pistone entered into the family while this rift was occurring. Many accusations and much finger-pointing went on during this time and Pistone soon found himself in the middle of being called out for stealing a quarter million dollars from the family. The penalty for such an infraction was death. After three sit-downs with the accuser (Tony Mirra) and his representatives, Pistone (Brasco) was found innocent of the theft.
Pistone was taken into the fold by Bonanno family capo Dominick "Sonny Black" Napolitano. He would eventually be tutored by Benjamin "Lefty Guns" Ruggiero, a Bonanno soldier. Ruggiero would eventually provide the FBI agent with details on the activities of other crews outside of the Bonanno family. Pistone was eventually invited into the family as a "made man". To accomplish this Pistone would have to kill someone at the order of Napolitano. Once again the agent got lucky; his target, Anthony Indelicato, would vanish before Pistone/Brasco would be able to carry out the killing. The year was 1981.
Following the order to kill Indelicato, Anthony's father Alphonse Indelicato, together with Phillip "Philly Lucky" Giaccone and Dominick "Big Trin" Trinchera were found murdered. Two days later, Napolitano and Ruggiero were informed that their longtime associate was in fact an undercover FBI agent. Ruggiero was arrested by the FBI and served 20 years in prison. Napolitano was subsequently murdered for allowing an undercover agent to infiltrate the family. On august 12, 1982, his body was found with several gunshot wounds and his hands were cut off. Pistone's testimony would help uncover an extensive drug distribution network that was being run out of New York City pizzerias. His relationship with Napolitano and Ruggiero would eventually lead to more than 200 indictments and over 100 convictions of mafia members.
In 1986 Pistone retired from the FBI and currently does lectures and training. Pistone would go on to write Donnie Brasco: My Undercover Life in the Mafia (1987). This would eventually develop into the major motion picture staring Johnny Depp (as Brasco) and Al Pacino (as Ruggiero). Two subsequent books would later detail his experiences; The Way of the Wiseguy (2004) and Donnie Brasco: Unfinished Business (2007).
Thanks to Charles Bennett
Charles Bennett was born in our Nation's Capital and grew up in the Maryland suburbs. Mr. Bennett has been working in all aspects of the publishing industry since the late 1980s primarily in the fields of commercial photography and magazine production. Moving to California in 1992 to attend college resulted in B.F.A and Masters degrees. California also supplied Mr. Bennett with his wife. The two of them are avid sports persons and participate in shooting, scuba diving, surfing, running and bicycling. As a long time hobby Mr. Bennett has studied the legends of American law enforcement which led to his writing these columns.
In 1969 Joe Pistone became an undercover FBI agent. In September 1976 he volunteered to infiltrate the Bonnano family and shortly there after, Donnie Brasco was born. Pistone would spend six years as a low-level jewel thief informing on the goings on inside the mob during some of the most volatile power struggles in organized crime. His story has been told in books, articles and in a major motion picture.
Joseph Dominick Pistone was born 1939 in Erie, Pennsylvania. Growing up in Paterson, New Jersey he graduated from Paterson State in 1965, receiving a degree in anthropology. Following a year as a teacher at Paterson School No. 10, Pistone secured a job at the Office of Naval Intelligence. From 1969 thru 1974 Pistone worked various jobs within the Bureau. In 1974 he was transferred to New York to work in the truck hijacking unit.
It was his ability to drive 18-wheeler and bulldozers that led him to work undercover infiltrating a vehicle theft ring. This assignment resulted in over 30 arrests and cemented Pistone's legend within law enforcement. Pistone was not only handy behind the wheel, he was also of Sicilian heritage and spoke Italian fluently. Of course growing up in Paterson, New Jersey didn't hurt matters either; he was already accustomed to the Mafia's idiosyncrasies.
During the 1970s there was a major influx of Sicilian mobsters coming to the United States which caused a great deal of tension with their U.S. counterparts. Pistone entered into the family while this rift was occurring. Many accusations and much finger-pointing went on during this time and Pistone soon found himself in the middle of being called out for stealing a quarter million dollars from the family. The penalty for such an infraction was death. After three sit-downs with the accuser (Tony Mirra) and his representatives, Pistone (Brasco) was found innocent of the theft.
Pistone was taken into the fold by Bonanno family capo Dominick "Sonny Black" Napolitano. He would eventually be tutored by Benjamin "Lefty Guns" Ruggiero, a Bonanno soldier. Ruggiero would eventually provide the FBI agent with details on the activities of other crews outside of the Bonanno family. Pistone was eventually invited into the family as a "made man". To accomplish this Pistone would have to kill someone at the order of Napolitano. Once again the agent got lucky; his target, Anthony Indelicato, would vanish before Pistone/Brasco would be able to carry out the killing. The year was 1981.
Following the order to kill Indelicato, Anthony's father Alphonse Indelicato, together with Phillip "Philly Lucky" Giaccone and Dominick "Big Trin" Trinchera were found murdered. Two days later, Napolitano and Ruggiero were informed that their longtime associate was in fact an undercover FBI agent. Ruggiero was arrested by the FBI and served 20 years in prison. Napolitano was subsequently murdered for allowing an undercover agent to infiltrate the family. On august 12, 1982, his body was found with several gunshot wounds and his hands were cut off. Pistone's testimony would help uncover an extensive drug distribution network that was being run out of New York City pizzerias. His relationship with Napolitano and Ruggiero would eventually lead to more than 200 indictments and over 100 convictions of mafia members.
In 1986 Pistone retired from the FBI and currently does lectures and training. Pistone would go on to write Donnie Brasco: My Undercover Life in the Mafia (1987). This would eventually develop into the major motion picture staring Johnny Depp (as Brasco) and Al Pacino (as Ruggiero). Two subsequent books would later detail his experiences; The Way of the Wiseguy (2004) and Donnie Brasco: Unfinished Business (2007).
Thanks to Charles Bennett
Charles Bennett was born in our Nation's Capital and grew up in the Maryland suburbs. Mr. Bennett has been working in all aspects of the publishing industry since the late 1980s primarily in the fields of commercial photography and magazine production. Moving to California in 1992 to attend college resulted in B.F.A and Masters degrees. California also supplied Mr. Bennett with his wife. The two of them are avid sports persons and participate in shooting, scuba diving, surfing, running and bicycling. As a long time hobby Mr. Bennett has studied the legends of American law enforcement which led to his writing these columns.
Kick-Ass - Comic About Mafia Boss Made Good is Heading to the Big Screen
In one of the quickest turnarounds from comic book series to film of all time, the comics world has barely had a year to familiarize itself with Mark Millar and John Romita Jr.’s “Kick-Ass.” Nevertheless, the film about a young kid inspired by comics to take on crime is uppercutting its way into theaters this year, and actor Mark Strong offered MTV some insight into how the movie is shaping up.
“The character I play in the comic is Genovese,” Strong told MTV News from the “Sherlock Holmes” set. The character took on a new name for the movie, but is still based on one from the comics. “He’s a mafia boss. And in the film, he’s called Frank D’Amico.”
“Kick-Ass” is still in production, however, as Strong pointed out, indicating that some elements of the comic book’s story may change as filming proceeds.
“The film is following the comic very closely, but I think by the time the film comes out it’s going to match the comic,” he explained. “For now, he’s a mafia boss made good. And he realizes that part of his world is collapsing because of a superhero on the street.”
As for starring alongside headliner Nicolas Cage, Strong hasn’t had any onscreen time together with him to comment on his performance, but he did share some insight.
“Nick and I don’t have any scenes together,” Strong said, describing Cage’s role as Damon Macready. “He basically becomes a man capable of handling himself and he’s basically out to clean up the streets and I’m responsible for cleaning up the mess.”
That’s a mess, which, if you’ve read the Marvel Comics series, you know is one sloppy and hilariously violent undertaking.
Thanks to Brian Warmoth
“The character I play in the comic is Genovese,” Strong told MTV News from the “Sherlock Holmes” set. The character took on a new name for the movie, but is still based on one from the comics. “He’s a mafia boss. And in the film, he’s called Frank D’Amico.”
“Kick-Ass” is still in production, however, as Strong pointed out, indicating that some elements of the comic book’s story may change as filming proceeds.
“The film is following the comic very closely, but I think by the time the film comes out it’s going to match the comic,” he explained. “For now, he’s a mafia boss made good. And he realizes that part of his world is collapsing because of a superhero on the street.”
As for starring alongside headliner Nicolas Cage, Strong hasn’t had any onscreen time together with him to comment on his performance, but he did share some insight.
“Nick and I don’t have any scenes together,” Strong said, describing Cage’s role as Damon Macready. “He basically becomes a man capable of handling himself and he’s basically out to clean up the streets and I’m responsible for cleaning up the mess.”
That’s a mess, which, if you’ve read the Marvel Comics series, you know is one sloppy and hilariously violent undertaking.
Thanks to Brian Warmoth
30 Arrested Charged with Organized Crime Activities Including Racketeering, Narcotics, Extortion, Bookmaking and Firearms.
The state police say their break came nine months ago when leaders of a West Warwick-based racketeering enterprise decided they needed to “teach a lesson” and hurt someone who owed them money.
Their target, however, was a low-ranking associate of mobster Nicholas Pari, who has since died of natural causes. They felt it their duty to inform Pari in advance as a matter of criminal courtesy. Pari objected, and asked ranking members of the Patriarca crime family to intervene. They did, siding with Pari in getting the assault called off. But the little exchange alerted the police to an enterprise they knew little about.
Yesterday, in simultaneous raids at 25 locations in Rhode Island and one in Massachusetts, the state police, working with officers from West Warwick, Warwick, Cranston and Coventry, arrested 30 people they say were active conspirators in an organized criminal enterprise managed by Donald St. Germain, 54, of West Warwick, and Adolf “George” Eunis, 67, of South Kingstown, on a range of offenses, including racketeering, narcotics, extortion, bookmaking and firearms.
St. Germain, whose criminal record goes back 20 years and includes interstate highjacking and stolen goods, is being held without bail pending a hearing on Feb. 19. He asked for a public defender.
Video
Eunis’ bail was set at $50,000, with surety, yesterday in District Court. Neither entered a plea, as felony charges are handled in Superior Court. A screening date of April 10 was set.
Yesterday afternoon, as court personnel discussed how to handle the influx of defendants being bused in for arraignment, friends and relatives perused a seven-page list of those arrested and the charges against them.
“Joe Montouri, they got,” commented one of the men. “They just shut West Warwick down,” said another of the men.
For the next hour, as the clerks divided the list into two, people chatted about the charges, those who had been arrested, and who knew whom. Friends waved at each other. Cell phones kept going off.
Shortly before 3 p.m. –– an hour after the scheduled time –– court personnel called the names of those defendants whose cases would be heard by District Court Judge Jeanne E. LaFazia. The rest would be handled by Judge Anthony Capraro next door, they said.
The defendants were brought out, in shackles, in groups of three.
Lt. Col. Stephen O’Donnell, second in command at the Rhode Island State Police, and Col. Brendan Doherty, the state police superintendent, credited the arrests to troopers and detectives who monitored more than a thousand phone conversations among members of the group, and to the work of an undercover state police detective, Christopher Zarrella, who managed to infiltrate the group. “It takes a lot of intestinal fortitude to do what he did,” O’Donnell said of Zarrella. “He’s a unique guy.”
In the wake of the aborted assault, in June 2008, Zarrella, a member of the intelligence unit, ingratiated himself with the two leaders and gradually gained their trust, O’Donnell said. Over the next several months he was seen as one of the regular members of the group, buying drugs and firearms and establishing himself as one of the guys.
With the information gathered by Zarrella, the state police obtained warrants to tap the phones of St. Germain and Eunis. The wiretaps, according to O’Donnell, helped show “a clear pattern” of an organized criminal enterprise operating out of St. Germain’s second-floor apartment at 47 Phenix Ave., in West Warwick.
“On a daily basis, numerous individuals in the organization would buy and sell marijuana” and various prescription drugs that were obtained illegally, O’Donnell said. “We also learned that they were managing partners in a gambling and loan-sharking operation.”
The police said that the two had enlisted, as part of their strong-arm operation, Terrell Walker, who in 1973 was charged with murdering a Boston police officer during a botched robbery of a pawn shop; witnesses recanted and the charge was reduced to manslaughter, for which he was sentenced to 18 to 20 years.
According to the state police, a decision to close in on the group was made a short time ago after St. Germain and Eunis decided they needed to deal harshly with Daniel Louth, 48, another individual who owed them a large amount of money.
They decided they would “teach him a lesson” and went to several people, including Zarrella, for help in tracking him down.
The assault, without Zarrella’s help, occurred Jan. 19 at a Shell station on Quaker Lane in Warwick. Michael Sherman, 35, and Michael Lillie, 33, both of West Warwick, carried out the assault, according to O’Donnell, with Jeremy Lavoie, 36, of West Warwick, as a lookout.
Louth –– who was brought in for arraignment yesterday with Eunis –– was held as a violator due to his extensive criminal record, which includes drug, extortion and bookmaking convictions. He faces racketeering, organized criminal gambling, bookmaking and drug charges.
Lillie and Sherman were ordered held without bail pending a hearing on Feb. 19.
At a news conference yesterday at state police headquarters , troopers displayed some of the items seized during yesterday’s early morning raids — including 2 pounds of marijuana, large quantities of prescription drugs, cell phones, scales, grinding tools and $10,000 cash.
Thanks to Richard C. Dujardin and Maria Armental
Their target, however, was a low-ranking associate of mobster Nicholas Pari, who has since died of natural causes. They felt it their duty to inform Pari in advance as a matter of criminal courtesy. Pari objected, and asked ranking members of the Patriarca crime family to intervene. They did, siding with Pari in getting the assault called off. But the little exchange alerted the police to an enterprise they knew little about.
Yesterday, in simultaneous raids at 25 locations in Rhode Island and one in Massachusetts, the state police, working with officers from West Warwick, Warwick, Cranston and Coventry, arrested 30 people they say were active conspirators in an organized criminal enterprise managed by Donald St. Germain, 54, of West Warwick, and Adolf “George” Eunis, 67, of South Kingstown, on a range of offenses, including racketeering, narcotics, extortion, bookmaking and firearms.
St. Germain, whose criminal record goes back 20 years and includes interstate highjacking and stolen goods, is being held without bail pending a hearing on Feb. 19. He asked for a public defender.
Video
Eunis’ bail was set at $50,000, with surety, yesterday in District Court. Neither entered a plea, as felony charges are handled in Superior Court. A screening date of April 10 was set.
Yesterday afternoon, as court personnel discussed how to handle the influx of defendants being bused in for arraignment, friends and relatives perused a seven-page list of those arrested and the charges against them.
“Joe Montouri, they got,” commented one of the men. “They just shut West Warwick down,” said another of the men.
For the next hour, as the clerks divided the list into two, people chatted about the charges, those who had been arrested, and who knew whom. Friends waved at each other. Cell phones kept going off.
Shortly before 3 p.m. –– an hour after the scheduled time –– court personnel called the names of those defendants whose cases would be heard by District Court Judge Jeanne E. LaFazia. The rest would be handled by Judge Anthony Capraro next door, they said.
The defendants were brought out, in shackles, in groups of three.
Lt. Col. Stephen O’Donnell, second in command at the Rhode Island State Police, and Col. Brendan Doherty, the state police superintendent, credited the arrests to troopers and detectives who monitored more than a thousand phone conversations among members of the group, and to the work of an undercover state police detective, Christopher Zarrella, who managed to infiltrate the group. “It takes a lot of intestinal fortitude to do what he did,” O’Donnell said of Zarrella. “He’s a unique guy.”
In the wake of the aborted assault, in June 2008, Zarrella, a member of the intelligence unit, ingratiated himself with the two leaders and gradually gained their trust, O’Donnell said. Over the next several months he was seen as one of the regular members of the group, buying drugs and firearms and establishing himself as one of the guys.
With the information gathered by Zarrella, the state police obtained warrants to tap the phones of St. Germain and Eunis. The wiretaps, according to O’Donnell, helped show “a clear pattern” of an organized criminal enterprise operating out of St. Germain’s second-floor apartment at 47 Phenix Ave., in West Warwick.
“On a daily basis, numerous individuals in the organization would buy and sell marijuana” and various prescription drugs that were obtained illegally, O’Donnell said. “We also learned that they were managing partners in a gambling and loan-sharking operation.”
The police said that the two had enlisted, as part of their strong-arm operation, Terrell Walker, who in 1973 was charged with murdering a Boston police officer during a botched robbery of a pawn shop; witnesses recanted and the charge was reduced to manslaughter, for which he was sentenced to 18 to 20 years.
According to the state police, a decision to close in on the group was made a short time ago after St. Germain and Eunis decided they needed to deal harshly with Daniel Louth, 48, another individual who owed them a large amount of money.
They decided they would “teach him a lesson” and went to several people, including Zarrella, for help in tracking him down.
The assault, without Zarrella’s help, occurred Jan. 19 at a Shell station on Quaker Lane in Warwick. Michael Sherman, 35, and Michael Lillie, 33, both of West Warwick, carried out the assault, according to O’Donnell, with Jeremy Lavoie, 36, of West Warwick, as a lookout.
Louth –– who was brought in for arraignment yesterday with Eunis –– was held as a violator due to his extensive criminal record, which includes drug, extortion and bookmaking convictions. He faces racketeering, organized criminal gambling, bookmaking and drug charges.
Lillie and Sherman were ordered held without bail pending a hearing on Feb. 19.
At a news conference yesterday at state police headquarters , troopers displayed some of the items seized during yesterday’s early morning raids — including 2 pounds of marijuana, large quantities of prescription drugs, cell phones, scales, grinding tools and $10,000 cash.
Thanks to Richard C. Dujardin and Maria Armental
Did "Sammy the Bull" Spare Junior Gotti to Save His Own Son?
John A. (Junior) Gotti's role in a 1990 rubout at the World Trade Center was a gangland secret for years because of a "son for a son" deal between his father and a Mafia turncoat, a government witness revealed Monday.
Before federal prosecutors charged Junior last year with the murder of Gambino soldier Louis DiBono, the mob scion's name had never surfaced in connection with the hit ordered by John Gotti Sr.
That's because infamous turncoat Salvatore (Sammy Bull) Gravano - who implicated the Dapper Don, underboss Frank Locascio and others in the murder conspiracy - never fingered Junior, and apparently with good reason, according to former capo Michael (Mikey Scars) DiLeonardo.
"Guys were going away for a long time and others were being left out. It was a mystery," DiLeonardo said Monday at the racketeering trial of reputed soldier Charles Carneglia in Brooklyn Federal Court.
Gambino capo Edward Garafola - Gravano's brother-in-law - provided the answer about a year after the murder, DiLeonardo said.
Although Gravano sent scores of Gambinos to prison, he spared Junior in a "son for a son" deal with Gotti Sr. in the hope that his own son, Gerard, would not be punished for his father's decision to break the Mafia oath of silence.
"It was the first time I learned that John Jr. was involved in the [DiBono] hit," DiLeonardo said.
Gotti Sr. was convicted in 1992 of ordering the murder of DiBono because he had ignored an order to meet with the crime boss when called.
Junior - who faces his own upcoming murder trial - assembled the hit team, prosecutors contend in court papers.
Carneglia is charged with sneaking up behind DiBono in the World Trade Center garage and pumping seven bullets into his head and body.
The reason Gravano did not implicate Carneglia at the time he fingered Gotti Sr. was not disclosed.
Although DiLeonardo has testified in 10 previous trials, he had not previously revealed the alleged son for a son deal. "It is implausible that after testifying against John [Jr.] three times, DiLeonardo suddenly remembered information about a murder charge," said Junior's attorney, Seth Ginsberg.
At the time he took the stand against the Teflon Don, Gravano was the highest ranking member of a Mafia family ever to cooperate with the feds.
Prosecutors ripped up Gravano's deal after he was caught trafficking Ecstasy pills with his wife, son and daughter in the witness protection program in Arizona. He is serving a 19-year sentence in the federal Supermax prison in Colorado. Gerard Gravano has nearly completed a nine-year term.
Thanks to John Marzulli
Before federal prosecutors charged Junior last year with the murder of Gambino soldier Louis DiBono, the mob scion's name had never surfaced in connection with the hit ordered by John Gotti Sr.
That's because infamous turncoat Salvatore (Sammy Bull) Gravano - who implicated the Dapper Don, underboss Frank Locascio and others in the murder conspiracy - never fingered Junior, and apparently with good reason, according to former capo Michael (Mikey Scars) DiLeonardo.
"Guys were going away for a long time and others were being left out. It was a mystery," DiLeonardo said Monday at the racketeering trial of reputed soldier Charles Carneglia in Brooklyn Federal Court.
Gambino capo Edward Garafola - Gravano's brother-in-law - provided the answer about a year after the murder, DiLeonardo said.
Although Gravano sent scores of Gambinos to prison, he spared Junior in a "son for a son" deal with Gotti Sr. in the hope that his own son, Gerard, would not be punished for his father's decision to break the Mafia oath of silence.
"It was the first time I learned that John Jr. was involved in the [DiBono] hit," DiLeonardo said.
Gotti Sr. was convicted in 1992 of ordering the murder of DiBono because he had ignored an order to meet with the crime boss when called.
Junior - who faces his own upcoming murder trial - assembled the hit team, prosecutors contend in court papers.
Carneglia is charged with sneaking up behind DiBono in the World Trade Center garage and pumping seven bullets into his head and body.
The reason Gravano did not implicate Carneglia at the time he fingered Gotti Sr. was not disclosed.
Although DiLeonardo has testified in 10 previous trials, he had not previously revealed the alleged son for a son deal. "It is implausible that after testifying against John [Jr.] three times, DiLeonardo suddenly remembered information about a murder charge," said Junior's attorney, Seth Ginsberg.
At the time he took the stand against the Teflon Don, Gravano was the highest ranking member of a Mafia family ever to cooperate with the feds.
Prosecutors ripped up Gravano's deal after he was caught trafficking Ecstasy pills with his wife, son and daughter in the witness protection program in Arizona. He is serving a 19-year sentence in the federal Supermax prison in Colorado. Gerard Gravano has nearly completed a nine-year term.
Thanks to John Marzulli
Mafia Cops' Accountant Sentenced to Only One Year in Prison Despite Stealing $5 Million + from Clients
A Connecticut accountant was sentenced Tuesday to a year in prison for stealing more than $5 million from his clients, winning a reduced sentence after authorities told a judge he risked his life as an essential witness in the conviction of two former New York City detectives for carrying out mob hits.
Stephen Corso, formerly of Ridgefield, faced the possibility of more than seven years in prison under federal sentencing guidelines. He is scheduled to surrender May 6 to serve his sentence of one year and one day.
Authorities say his extraordinary cooperation in the New York case was among the reasons he received the reduced sentence Tuesday in U.S. District Court in Bridgeport.
Corso was an important government witness against detectives Louis Eppolito and Stephen Caracappa, who were accused of participating in eight mob-related killings while working for the Luchese crime family. The case was considered one of the worst cases of police corruption in New York history.
U.S. District Court Judge Janet Hall criticized Corso's thefts from his clients as "an extraordinary violation of trust," but said she considered his cooperation in the New York case when she sentenced him Tuesday. "I can't find the words to describe the value, at least in my judgment, of this cooperation," Hall said.
A New York jury found the detectives guilty in 2006, but a judge dismissed their racketeering case after determining the statute of limitations had passed on the slayings. A federal appeals court later reinstated the verdict.
Authorities who handled the case said Corso's role as an informant was critical to prove that the conspiracy occurred within the statute of limitations. "There never would have been justice without Mr. Corso's cooperation," Robert Henoch, a former New York prosecutor who handled the case, told Hall at Corso's sentencing Tuesday.
Prosecutors argued the murders were part of a conspiracy that lasted through a 2005 drug deal with Corso, who was an FBI informant.
Corso wore a wire while offering the detectives drug money to finance a film project at a 2004 meeting in Las Vegas. Eppolito, a decorated former detective and son of a mobster, was living in Las Vegas and trying to peddle screenplays and was unconcerned about the source of the cash.
Corso said at the time that he ripped off millions from his clients to finance a life of "girlfriends, jewelry and going out." Prosecutors say he also had significant gambling losses while living a second life in Las Vegas.
Susan Patrick, whose family lost more than $800,000 to Corso, said he was a family friend before the thefts. Corso has been ordered to pay restitution to the Patricks and other victims. "This started a six-year nightmare," she said Tuesday. "We will never be whole for our losses. I don't believe Mr. Corso is at all sorry."
Corso apologized to the victims and his family Tuesday during his sentencing. "I know that I hurt that trust," Corso said. "I am deeply sorry, not only to the Patricks but the others."
Thanks to John Christoffersen
Stephen Corso, formerly of Ridgefield, faced the possibility of more than seven years in prison under federal sentencing guidelines. He is scheduled to surrender May 6 to serve his sentence of one year and one day.
Authorities say his extraordinary cooperation in the New York case was among the reasons he received the reduced sentence Tuesday in U.S. District Court in Bridgeport.
Corso was an important government witness against detectives Louis Eppolito and Stephen Caracappa, who were accused of participating in eight mob-related killings while working for the Luchese crime family. The case was considered one of the worst cases of police corruption in New York history.
U.S. District Court Judge Janet Hall criticized Corso's thefts from his clients as "an extraordinary violation of trust," but said she considered his cooperation in the New York case when she sentenced him Tuesday. "I can't find the words to describe the value, at least in my judgment, of this cooperation," Hall said.
A New York jury found the detectives guilty in 2006, but a judge dismissed their racketeering case after determining the statute of limitations had passed on the slayings. A federal appeals court later reinstated the verdict.
Authorities who handled the case said Corso's role as an informant was critical to prove that the conspiracy occurred within the statute of limitations. "There never would have been justice without Mr. Corso's cooperation," Robert Henoch, a former New York prosecutor who handled the case, told Hall at Corso's sentencing Tuesday.
Prosecutors argued the murders were part of a conspiracy that lasted through a 2005 drug deal with Corso, who was an FBI informant.
Corso wore a wire while offering the detectives drug money to finance a film project at a 2004 meeting in Las Vegas. Eppolito, a decorated former detective and son of a mobster, was living in Las Vegas and trying to peddle screenplays and was unconcerned about the source of the cash.
Corso said at the time that he ripped off millions from his clients to finance a life of "girlfriends, jewelry and going out." Prosecutors say he also had significant gambling losses while living a second life in Las Vegas.
Susan Patrick, whose family lost more than $800,000 to Corso, said he was a family friend before the thefts. Corso has been ordered to pay restitution to the Patricks and other victims. "This started a six-year nightmare," she said Tuesday. "We will never be whole for our losses. I don't believe Mr. Corso is at all sorry."
Corso apologized to the victims and his family Tuesday during his sentencing. "I know that I hurt that trust," Corso said. "I am deeply sorry, not only to the Patricks but the others."
Thanks to John Christoffersen
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Joey the Clown Given Life in Prison
Reputed mob boss Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo was sentenced Monday to life in federal prison for serving as a leader of Chicago's organized crime family and the murder of a government witness in a union pension fraud case.
Lombardo, 80, was among three reputed mob bosses and two alleged henchmen convicted in September 2007 at the landmark Operation Family Secrets trial which lifted the curtain of secrecy from the seamy operations of Chicago's underworld.
"The worst things you have done are terrible and I see no regret in them," U.S. District Judge James B. Zagel said in imposing sentence. He also sentenced Lombardo separately to 168 months for going on the lam for eight months after he was charged.
Lombardo grumbled that he had been eating breakfast in a pancake house on Sept. 27, 1974, when ski-masked men beat federal witness Daniel Seifert in front of his wife and 4-year-old son and then shot him to death at point-blank range.
"Now I suppose the court is going to send me to a life in prison for something I did not do," Lombardo said. He said he was sorry for the suffering of the Seifert family but added: "I did not kill Danny Seifert."
In a last-minute effort to bolster his alibi, he read from two documents signed by Hollywood private eye Anthony Pellicano, now serving a 15-year sentence for wiretapping stars such as Sylvester Stallone and bribing police to run names through law enforcement databases. Pellicano was originally from Chicago.
Lombardo was one of the best-known figures in the Chicago underworld. His lawyer, Rick Halprin, told jurors during the trial that he merely "ran the oldest and most reliable floating craps game on Grand Avenue" but was not a killer.
Witnesses said he was the boss of the mob's Grand Avenue street crew — which extorted "street tax" from local businesses and engaged in other illegal activities.
He was sent to federal prison along with International Brotherhood of Teamsters President Roy Lee Williams and union pension manager Allen Dorfman after they were convicted of plotting to bribe U.S. Sen. Howard Cannon, D-Nev., to help defeat a trucking deregulation bill. Cannon was charged with no wrongdoing in the case.
Lombardo was later convicted in a Las Vegas casino skimming case.
Seifert was gunned down two days before he was due to testify before a federal grand jury. His two sons spoke at the sentencing about the pain of losing their father when they were still children.
Joseph Seifert recalled how he saw mobsters "chase my father like a pack of hungry animals" before shooting him.
Nicholas Seifert said that he succumbed to depression over the killing. "I felt like a coward for many years for not seeking revenge for what those men did to my father," he said.
Lombardo used a wheelchair in court. Halprin declined to say what health problems his client has but said he needed to be sent to a prison where he would get adequate medical care.
Zagel acknowledged that he thought carefully about Lombardo's age in deciding on a sentence. But he said he wanted one that would not "deprecate the seriousness of the crime."
Zagel has already sentenced Calabrese to life and reputed mobster Paul Schiro to 20 years. Schiro was sentenced to 5 1/2 years in prison seven years ago after pleading guilty to being part of a gang of jewel thieves run by the Chicago police department's former chief of detectives.
Still to be sentenced are James Marcello, reputedly one of the top leaders of the mob, and Anthony Doyle, a former Chicago police officer who became an enforcer for Frank Calabrese. Also still to be sentenced is Nicholas Calabrese, Frank's brother and an admitted hit man who became the government's star witness.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Lombardo, 80, was among three reputed mob bosses and two alleged henchmen convicted in September 2007 at the landmark Operation Family Secrets trial which lifted the curtain of secrecy from the seamy operations of Chicago's underworld.
"The worst things you have done are terrible and I see no regret in them," U.S. District Judge James B. Zagel said in imposing sentence. He also sentenced Lombardo separately to 168 months for going on the lam for eight months after he was charged.
Lombardo grumbled that he had been eating breakfast in a pancake house on Sept. 27, 1974, when ski-masked men beat federal witness Daniel Seifert in front of his wife and 4-year-old son and then shot him to death at point-blank range.
"Now I suppose the court is going to send me to a life in prison for something I did not do," Lombardo said. He said he was sorry for the suffering of the Seifert family but added: "I did not kill Danny Seifert."
In a last-minute effort to bolster his alibi, he read from two documents signed by Hollywood private eye Anthony Pellicano, now serving a 15-year sentence for wiretapping stars such as Sylvester Stallone and bribing police to run names through law enforcement databases. Pellicano was originally from Chicago.
Lombardo was one of the best-known figures in the Chicago underworld. His lawyer, Rick Halprin, told jurors during the trial that he merely "ran the oldest and most reliable floating craps game on Grand Avenue" but was not a killer.
Witnesses said he was the boss of the mob's Grand Avenue street crew — which extorted "street tax" from local businesses and engaged in other illegal activities.
He was sent to federal prison along with International Brotherhood of Teamsters President Roy Lee Williams and union pension manager Allen Dorfman after they were convicted of plotting to bribe U.S. Sen. Howard Cannon, D-Nev., to help defeat a trucking deregulation bill. Cannon was charged with no wrongdoing in the case.
Lombardo was later convicted in a Las Vegas casino skimming case.
Seifert was gunned down two days before he was due to testify before a federal grand jury. His two sons spoke at the sentencing about the pain of losing their father when they were still children.
Joseph Seifert recalled how he saw mobsters "chase my father like a pack of hungry animals" before shooting him.
Nicholas Seifert said that he succumbed to depression over the killing. "I felt like a coward for many years for not seeking revenge for what those men did to my father," he said.
Lombardo used a wheelchair in court. Halprin declined to say what health problems his client has but said he needed to be sent to a prison where he would get adequate medical care.
Zagel acknowledged that he thought carefully about Lombardo's age in deciding on a sentence. But he said he wanted one that would not "deprecate the seriousness of the crime."
Zagel has already sentenced Calabrese to life and reputed mobster Paul Schiro to 20 years. Schiro was sentenced to 5 1/2 years in prison seven years ago after pleading guilty to being part of a gang of jewel thieves run by the Chicago police department's former chief of detectives.
Still to be sentenced are James Marcello, reputedly one of the top leaders of the mob, and Anthony Doyle, a former Chicago police officer who became an enforcer for Frank Calabrese. Also still to be sentenced is Nicholas Calabrese, Frank's brother and an admitted hit man who became the government's star witness.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Mob Museum Taking Some Hits
Las Vegas’ proposed mob museum has taken some hits of its own in recent weeks, targeted on late-night talk shows and Capitol Hill as an absurd showcase for the likes of Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel, Meyer Lansky and Anthony “Tony the Ant” Spilotro.
Museum backers say the critics don’t get it. This won’t be some sideshow exhibit celebrating the mob’s role as a storied part of Las Vegas’ past. Rather, it will offer a serious examination of organized crime and law enforcement’s efforts to combat it.
During this episode, the underlying message received by those planning the museum was clear: As they move forward, they need to be ever careful about the museum’s image.
“We want it to be serious and we want it to be balanced, but we need it to have appeal,” said Dale Erquiaga, a museum board member. “It’s always on our minds as planners that we stay right on that line,” said Erquiaga, formerly an advertising strategist with R&R Partners. “It’s in every conversation we have.”
Most cities, it’s fair to say, would have cringed at the contemptuous national attention the mob museum received. Stand-up comedian Lewis Black said on “The Daily Show” on Jan. 14: “A mob museum? I thought Las Vegas already was a mob museum!”
And yet, the museum may have been aided by the dust-up, which Mayor Oscar Goodman and other museum proponents boasted likely resulted in more than $7 million worth of free publicity.
Several of the 13 board members of the 300 Stewart Avenue Corp., the nonprofit group working with the city on the project, likewise said in recent interviews that they are pleased with the museum’s progress, in terms of fundraising, collecting exhibits, and simply raising awareness of the museum’s mission.
A big part of that awareness-raising, as several board members pointed out, is making sure the public knows that the museum will be going out of its way not to glorify the Mafia.
“You have a very significant number of people in town who don’t want to glorify the mob. I count myself among them,” said board member Alan Feldman, senior vice president of pubic affairs for MGM Mirage. “There isn’t a sympathizer, if you will, among us,” he said, including fellow board member Goodman, a former attorney who zealously defended several vicious local figures.
According to Feldman and other board members, the marketers for the museum are doing everything they can to straddle the line between avoiding the mob’s glorification and keeping the museum and its exhibits interesting and entertaining. That struggle was reflected in a rough-draft museum brochure, which will be used to raise funds, garner exhibits or both, Feldman said.
On one page, the words “City Planner or Gangster?” were superimposed over a large black-and-white photo of mobster Bugsy Siegel. On another, “Tax Revenue or Skim?” is written over a photo of a spinning roulette wheel with gamblers in the background.
Feldman said that struggle was also reflected in the museum’s naming, which was finalized last spring at a meeting in City Hall.
After a long debate, consensus was reached on both a brand name — the mob museum — as well as the longer, more complete institutional name — The Las Vegas Museum of Organized Crime and Law Enforcement — which was to show that the museum’s purpose was equally to tell the story of the police and G-men who chased, and ultimately brought down, the mob.
“My motivation for volunteering on this project was to ensure that law enforcement, in particular the FBI, would be fairly and accurately represented,” said Ellen Knowlton, head of the 300 Stewart Avenue Corp., and the former special agent in charge of the local FBI field office, in a statement. “I also wanted to make sure that the lifestyle of those involved with organized crime would be accurately depicted and not ‘glamorized.’ ”
Though Goodman said that he wanted as much federal stimulus money as he could get for the museum, plans for the project shouldn’t be altered if none is forthcoming, officials say.
According to city officials, the museum has raised about $15 million so far, including $3.6 million in federal grants and another $3.5 million in state and local grants.
The museum has a $50 million price tag. Ultimately, according to a museum fact sheet, that will include $7 million in grants and $8 million in city funds, with the remaining $35 million to come from bonds from the city’s redevelopment agency.
Construction on the interior of the city-owned museum building — the old three-story post office and federal courthouse building downtown — is set to kick off this spring. The city is hoping for an opening date of sometime in 2010.
Looking at some of the exhibits the museum has lined up, it’s difficult to say whether preventing the mob’s glorification will be something easily achieved.
At a charity auction in June at Christie’s in New York, a mob-museum-contracted designer spent $12,450 to purchase four artifacts from the blockbuster HBO series “The Sopranos.”
Included among the items was the black leather jacket, knit shirt and black slacks Tony Soprano wore in one of the series’ final episodes, “The Blue Comet.”
In the episode, actor James Gandolfini wore the outfit as he went to sleep clutching an AR-15 machine gun that his brother-in-law, Bobby, who had just been shot to death, gave him as a birthday present.
Thanks to Sam Skolnik
Museum backers say the critics don’t get it. This won’t be some sideshow exhibit celebrating the mob’s role as a storied part of Las Vegas’ past. Rather, it will offer a serious examination of organized crime and law enforcement’s efforts to combat it.
During this episode, the underlying message received by those planning the museum was clear: As they move forward, they need to be ever careful about the museum’s image.
“We want it to be serious and we want it to be balanced, but we need it to have appeal,” said Dale Erquiaga, a museum board member. “It’s always on our minds as planners that we stay right on that line,” said Erquiaga, formerly an advertising strategist with R&R Partners. “It’s in every conversation we have.”
Most cities, it’s fair to say, would have cringed at the contemptuous national attention the mob museum received. Stand-up comedian Lewis Black said on “The Daily Show” on Jan. 14: “A mob museum? I thought Las Vegas already was a mob museum!”
And yet, the museum may have been aided by the dust-up, which Mayor Oscar Goodman and other museum proponents boasted likely resulted in more than $7 million worth of free publicity.
Several of the 13 board members of the 300 Stewart Avenue Corp., the nonprofit group working with the city on the project, likewise said in recent interviews that they are pleased with the museum’s progress, in terms of fundraising, collecting exhibits, and simply raising awareness of the museum’s mission.
A big part of that awareness-raising, as several board members pointed out, is making sure the public knows that the museum will be going out of its way not to glorify the Mafia.
“You have a very significant number of people in town who don’t want to glorify the mob. I count myself among them,” said board member Alan Feldman, senior vice president of pubic affairs for MGM Mirage. “There isn’t a sympathizer, if you will, among us,” he said, including fellow board member Goodman, a former attorney who zealously defended several vicious local figures.
According to Feldman and other board members, the marketers for the museum are doing everything they can to straddle the line between avoiding the mob’s glorification and keeping the museum and its exhibits interesting and entertaining. That struggle was reflected in a rough-draft museum brochure, which will be used to raise funds, garner exhibits or both, Feldman said.
On one page, the words “City Planner or Gangster?” were superimposed over a large black-and-white photo of mobster Bugsy Siegel. On another, “Tax Revenue or Skim?” is written over a photo of a spinning roulette wheel with gamblers in the background.
Feldman said that struggle was also reflected in the museum’s naming, which was finalized last spring at a meeting in City Hall.
After a long debate, consensus was reached on both a brand name — the mob museum — as well as the longer, more complete institutional name — The Las Vegas Museum of Organized Crime and Law Enforcement — which was to show that the museum’s purpose was equally to tell the story of the police and G-men who chased, and ultimately brought down, the mob.
“My motivation for volunteering on this project was to ensure that law enforcement, in particular the FBI, would be fairly and accurately represented,” said Ellen Knowlton, head of the 300 Stewart Avenue Corp., and the former special agent in charge of the local FBI field office, in a statement. “I also wanted to make sure that the lifestyle of those involved with organized crime would be accurately depicted and not ‘glamorized.’ ”
Though Goodman said that he wanted as much federal stimulus money as he could get for the museum, plans for the project shouldn’t be altered if none is forthcoming, officials say.
According to city officials, the museum has raised about $15 million so far, including $3.6 million in federal grants and another $3.5 million in state and local grants.
The museum has a $50 million price tag. Ultimately, according to a museum fact sheet, that will include $7 million in grants and $8 million in city funds, with the remaining $35 million to come from bonds from the city’s redevelopment agency.
Construction on the interior of the city-owned museum building — the old three-story post office and federal courthouse building downtown — is set to kick off this spring. The city is hoping for an opening date of sometime in 2010.
Looking at some of the exhibits the museum has lined up, it’s difficult to say whether preventing the mob’s glorification will be something easily achieved.
At a charity auction in June at Christie’s in New York, a mob-museum-contracted designer spent $12,450 to purchase four artifacts from the blockbuster HBO series “The Sopranos.”
Included among the items was the black leather jacket, knit shirt and black slacks Tony Soprano wore in one of the series’ final episodes, “The Blue Comet.”
In the episode, actor James Gandolfini wore the outfit as he went to sleep clutching an AR-15 machine gun that his brother-in-law, Bobby, who had just been shot to death, gave him as a birthday present.
Thanks to Sam Skolnik
Monday, February 02, 2009
Mobster, Joey "The Clown" Lombardo, Gets Life in Prison
Mobster Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, one of the five Outfit associates convicted in the landmark Family Secrets trial that riveted Chicago for weeks with its lurid testimony about 18 decades-old gangland slayings, was sentenced to life in prison this afternoon.
U.S. District Judge James Zagel levied the sentenc after the aging mob boss addressed the court in a gravelly voice and denied having anything to do with the Seifert murder.
The judge said that unlike co-defendants in case, Lombardo showed some balance in judgment and some ability to charm people. But in the end, defendants must be judged by their actions, "not about our wit and our smiles," Zagel said. "The worst things you have done are terrible, and I see no regret in you," the judge told Lombardo in handing down the life sentence.
Lombardo, the wisecracking elder statesman of the mob, and four other defendants were found guilty in 2007 of a racketeering conspiracy that stretched back to the 1960s and included extorting "street taxes," collecting high-interest "juice" loans, running illegal gambling operations and using violence and murder to protect the mob's interests.
He also was found guilty of the 1974 murder of federal witness Daniel Seifert and of obstructing justice by fleeing from authorities after his indictment. He faced a maximum sentence of life in prison.
Lombardo was sent to federal prison in the 1980s for conspiring with International Brotherhood of Teamsters President Roy Lee Williams and union pension fund manager Allen Dorfman to bribe Sen. Howard Cannon (D-Nev.) to help defeat a trucking deregulation bill. Cannon was never charged with any wrongdoing and the bill became law with his support.
When Lombardo got out, he resumed life as the boss of the mob's Grand Avenue street crew, prosecutors said. He denied it. but his attorney, Rick Halprin, told the trial he ran "the oldest and most reliable floating craps game on Grand Avenue."
When the Family Secrets indictment was unsealed, Lombardo went on the lam for nine months. He ultimately was brought before U.S. District Judge James Zagel.
Two of Lombardo's co-defendants were sentenced last week. Paul "the Indian" Schiro got 20 years for the racketeering conviction, and Frank Calabrese Sr. got life for racketeering and for seven murders.
James Marcello, once called Chicago's mob boss by authorities, is scheduled to be sentenced Thursday.
U.S. District Judge James Zagel levied the sentenc after the aging mob boss addressed the court in a gravelly voice and denied having anything to do with the Seifert murder.
The judge said that unlike co-defendants in case, Lombardo showed some balance in judgment and some ability to charm people. But in the end, defendants must be judged by their actions, "not about our wit and our smiles," Zagel said. "The worst things you have done are terrible, and I see no regret in you," the judge told Lombardo in handing down the life sentence.
Lombardo, the wisecracking elder statesman of the mob, and four other defendants were found guilty in 2007 of a racketeering conspiracy that stretched back to the 1960s and included extorting "street taxes," collecting high-interest "juice" loans, running illegal gambling operations and using violence and murder to protect the mob's interests.
He also was found guilty of the 1974 murder of federal witness Daniel Seifert and of obstructing justice by fleeing from authorities after his indictment. He faced a maximum sentence of life in prison.
Lombardo was sent to federal prison in the 1980s for conspiring with International Brotherhood of Teamsters President Roy Lee Williams and union pension fund manager Allen Dorfman to bribe Sen. Howard Cannon (D-Nev.) to help defeat a trucking deregulation bill. Cannon was never charged with any wrongdoing and the bill became law with his support.
When Lombardo got out, he resumed life as the boss of the mob's Grand Avenue street crew, prosecutors said. He denied it. but his attorney, Rick Halprin, told the trial he ran "the oldest and most reliable floating craps game on Grand Avenue."
When the Family Secrets indictment was unsealed, Lombardo went on the lam for nine months. He ultimately was brought before U.S. District Judge James Zagel.
Two of Lombardo's co-defendants were sentenced last week. Paul "the Indian" Schiro got 20 years for the racketeering conviction, and Frank Calabrese Sr. got life for racketeering and for seven murders.
James Marcello, once called Chicago's mob boss by authorities, is scheduled to be sentenced Thursday.
Memo to Mobsters: Don't "Adopt" Anyone - He May Turn Out to be a Rat
Memo to mobsters: Don't "adopt" anyone - he may turn out to be a rat.
John A. (Junior) Gotti learned that the hard way with "adopted" son Lewis Kasman, who taped Gotti family meetings for the feds.
Reputed killer Charles Carneglia is about to get a taste of the same medicine with "adopted" kid brother Kevin McMahon.
Both mob turncoats are to testify in Carneglia's ongoing murder trial in Brooklyn Federal Court.
Kasman, a former Long Island garment exec who wormed his way into Gotti's inner circle and called himself the adopted son of the late Gambino crime boss, wasn't close to Carneglia.
McMahon was as close as you can get without being a relative. "When Kevin walks into that courtroom I would expect Charles will want to jump over the table and strangle him," a law enforcement official said.
McMahon was not only a member of Carneglia's crime crew, he was like a member of the Carneglia family.
In 1980, McMahon was a 12-year-old Irish kid from Howard Beach "at the beginning of his long and extraordinarily close relationship" with Charles Carneglia and his brother John, court papers show. McMahon is 20 years younger than Charles, 62, and John, 64.
On a fateful day in March, McMahon lent his minibike to mob scion Frank Gotti who was accidentally hit and killed by neighbor John Favara as he drove home from work. Favara was slain on Gotti's orders and, prosecutors say, Charles Carneglia dissolved his body in a barrel of acid.
Before the incident, McMahon had been "informally adopted" by John and Charles Carneglia. Charles Carneglia promised to protect the lad from retaliation for his role in Frankie's death.
McMahon was treated as a member of the Carneglia family, living with them for long stretches, attending family dinners and going on Carneglia family vacations, Assistant U.S. Attorney Roger Burlingame said.
Former capo Michael DiLeonardo has testified that McMahon was a "goofy kid" who taunted FBI agents, running up to them and grabbing his crotch.
McMahon had jobs with Local 638 steamfitters union and Local 52 motion pictures mechanics union, but those paid only $40,000 a year, chump change for a wanna-be Gambino associate with an ailing wife and two kids.
Prosecutors say he and Carneglia took part in extortions, art fraud and robberies, including the stickup of an armored car at Kennedy Airport in 1990 in which guard Jose Rivera Delgado was shot to death. McMahon dropped a baseball cap at the scene. DNA tests linked him to a strand of hair in the hat.
Shortly after he was arrested in 2005 on an indictment charging him with racketeering for the Gambinos in Tampa, McMahon sent a "thank you" letter to Brooklyn Magistrate Robert Levy for releasing him on bail.
"As I was leaving the courtroom you said to me, 'Don't let me down.' I assure you I have not," he wrote. "As soon as I'm acquitted I'll write you again."
McMahon turned on his adoptive mob family after he was convicted and faced 20 years behind bars. He is cooperating in hopes of winning a lesser prison term.
Thanks to John Marzulli
John A. (Junior) Gotti learned that the hard way with "adopted" son Lewis Kasman, who taped Gotti family meetings for the feds.
Reputed killer Charles Carneglia is about to get a taste of the same medicine with "adopted" kid brother Kevin McMahon.
Both mob turncoats are to testify in Carneglia's ongoing murder trial in Brooklyn Federal Court.
Kasman, a former Long Island garment exec who wormed his way into Gotti's inner circle and called himself the adopted son of the late Gambino crime boss, wasn't close to Carneglia.
McMahon was as close as you can get without being a relative. "When Kevin walks into that courtroom I would expect Charles will want to jump over the table and strangle him," a law enforcement official said.
McMahon was not only a member of Carneglia's crime crew, he was like a member of the Carneglia family.
In 1980, McMahon was a 12-year-old Irish kid from Howard Beach "at the beginning of his long and extraordinarily close relationship" with Charles Carneglia and his brother John, court papers show. McMahon is 20 years younger than Charles, 62, and John, 64.
On a fateful day in March, McMahon lent his minibike to mob scion Frank Gotti who was accidentally hit and killed by neighbor John Favara as he drove home from work. Favara was slain on Gotti's orders and, prosecutors say, Charles Carneglia dissolved his body in a barrel of acid.
Before the incident, McMahon had been "informally adopted" by John and Charles Carneglia. Charles Carneglia promised to protect the lad from retaliation for his role in Frankie's death.
McMahon was treated as a member of the Carneglia family, living with them for long stretches, attending family dinners and going on Carneglia family vacations, Assistant U.S. Attorney Roger Burlingame said.
Former capo Michael DiLeonardo has testified that McMahon was a "goofy kid" who taunted FBI agents, running up to them and grabbing his crotch.
McMahon had jobs with Local 638 steamfitters union and Local 52 motion pictures mechanics union, but those paid only $40,000 a year, chump change for a wanna-be Gambino associate with an ailing wife and two kids.
Prosecutors say he and Carneglia took part in extortions, art fraud and robberies, including the stickup of an armored car at Kennedy Airport in 1990 in which guard Jose Rivera Delgado was shot to death. McMahon dropped a baseball cap at the scene. DNA tests linked him to a strand of hair in the hat.
Shortly after he was arrested in 2005 on an indictment charging him with racketeering for the Gambinos in Tampa, McMahon sent a "thank you" letter to Brooklyn Magistrate Robert Levy for releasing him on bail.
"As I was leaving the courtroom you said to me, 'Don't let me down.' I assure you I have not," he wrote. "As soon as I'm acquitted I'll write you again."
McMahon turned on his adoptive mob family after he was convicted and faced 20 years behind bars. He is cooperating in hopes of winning a lesser prison term.
Thanks to John Marzulli
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Chazz Palminteri Grows Up with the Mob
How tough was the Bronx neighborhood where Chazz Palminteri grew up?
“When I was 9 years old,” the actor recalls, “I saw a guy kill another guy over a parking space.”
Palminteri has never forgotten the incident. Things like that tend to stay with you.
When in 1988 he grew discouraged at his inability to break into movies, and decided to write a one-man play that would show what he could do, that murder scene became his starting point.
A Bronx Tale
depicts Calogero (Palminteri’s real first name) growing up torn between two mentors: Sonny, the mob boss whom the lad refuses to rat out to police after witnessing the killing; and Lorenzo, Calogero’s hard-working father, a bus driver trying to teach his son not to admire the wise guys.
Palminteri premiered the play to acclaim in 1989, first in Los Angeles, then off-Broadway. It jump-started his career, sparking a Hollywood bidding war. Palminteri refused to sell the film rights unless he was part of the package, writing the screenplay and playing Sonny.
Robert De Niro agreed to Palminteri’s terms, making his directorial debut with A Bronx Tale and co-starring as Lorenzo. A critical and box-office hit in 1993, it launched Palminteri’s film career, including his Oscar-nominated performance in Woody Allen’s Bullets Over Broadway
and other highlights from The Usual Suspects (Special Editon)
and Hurlyburly to A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints.
Palminteri returned to A Bronx Tale during the 2007-08 Broadway season, again to critical acclaim, followed by the national tour that brings the show to Hobby Center Tuesday.
"I wanted to get back to theater,” he says. “Everybody who’d seen the original run had talked about it for 20 years. And there’s a whole new generation of people who never saw it. I thought I should do it while I was still young enough. In another 20 years, I might not be up to the challenge. When you see me perform it on stage, you’ll see why.”
As to assuming the rigors of a tour, he says, “I was not going to let anybody else do the tour. This is my story.”
How tough was it for Palminteri to get a break in pictures? “The play was born out of my desperation to get a start in movies,” he says. “I’d studied with Lee Strasberg at the Actors Studio and acted off-Broadway before moving to Hollywood to try my luck at movies. I got TV guest shots but was finding it really hard to get into feature films.”
His low point was being fired from a job as nightclub doorman. “One night I didn’t let this gentleman into a party. And it turned out he was (famed agent) Swifty Lazar. And it was his party. I don’t know how I didn’t recognize him. “After getting fired, I went home and sat on the edge of my bed. Then I saw this card my dad had given me, emblazoned with the motto ‘The saddest thing in life is wasted talent.’ I said to myself, “I’m not going to waste my life or my talent. If they won’t give me a part, I’ll write one myself.”
Starting with the murder, he wrote the play in 5- to 10-minute sections. “I’d try each segment out in front of an audience on Monday nights at Theatre West in L.A. I’d tighten and fine-tune it, before coming back the next week with another 5 to 10 minutes. By the end of the year, I had a tight, 90-minute play.”
Palminteri says about 70 percent of A Bronx Tale comes from his life, though he has consolidated some events and tweaked the time frame to better serve the coming-of-age story that follows Calogero from ages 9 to 17.
“Authenticity counts,” Palminteri says. “It matters. I wanted to show the story not in blacks-and-whites, but shades of gray. Sonny isn’t all bad, Lorenzo isn’t all good. Calogero takes the best qualities of both as he grows to manhood.”
While the script has changed little since Palminteri first performed the play in 1989, it’s getting a more elaborate production this time. “I wanted to bring it back with a major director,” he says. He got one of Broadway’s best, four-time Tony winner Jerry Zaks (Guys and Dolls, Six Degrees of Separation, The House of Blue Leaves, Lend Me a Tenor.)
“What’s different is the presentation. There’s much more of a Broadway-caliber production around the performance.
“It’s also a different experience for me, emotionally deeper, because I’ve changed. When I did the play before, I hadn’t experienced marriage or fatherhood, and I identified with the son. Now I’m married, I have a son and daughter, and I identify much more with Lorenzo.”
While that may be the character with whom Palminteri feels the strongest identification, one of the biggest kicks of the show is getting to play 18 characters, including neighborhood eccentrics and assorted (not so) goodfellas.
How tough is Palminteri? In Faithful, he terrorized Cher. (Think about it.) Even in casual conversation, Palminteri’s voice carries that street-toughened edge of authority.
Some might say that quality has led to a certain amount of typecasting. But Palminteri has played characters on both sides of the law — not just mob bosses and hit men, but cops, lawyers and prosecutors (though not all were straight-arrow types.)
“Sure, the most famous roles are the tough guys, but I’ve done a lot of different movies. I prize my work in independent films like A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints, even if they’re not the most widely seen.”
Yonkers Joe, his latest of those, lets him mine both tough and tender veins. In the title role, he plays a professional gambler who must take on the care of his 20-year-old Down syndrome son, who’s not lived with him in years.
Palminteri anticipates being back on stage again in the next couple of years, either in Joanna Baldwin’s A Child-Proof Room or in a new play he’s writing.
Palminteri anticipates being back on stage again in the next couple of years, either in Joanna Baldwin’s A Child-Proof Room or in a new play he’s writing.
For now, he’s finding inspiration taking A Bronx Tale to audiences across the nation.
“The play is about the message on that card my father gave me,” he says. “About not wasting your life or your talent. I had cards printed up with that message and, when young people ask for my autograph after the show, I hand them that card.
“I’ve gotten a lot of calls from parents, from guidance counselors, saying the show’s message helped someone. ‘My son was on drugs and seeing the show changed him.’ Being able to have that effect is certainly inspirational to me.”
Thanks to Everett Evans
“When I was 9 years old,” the actor recalls, “I saw a guy kill another guy over a parking space.”
Palminteri has never forgotten the incident. Things like that tend to stay with you.
When in 1988 he grew discouraged at his inability to break into movies, and decided to write a one-man play that would show what he could do, that murder scene became his starting point.
A Bronx Tale
depicts Calogero (Palminteri’s real first name) growing up torn between two mentors: Sonny, the mob boss whom the lad refuses to rat out to police after witnessing the killing; and Lorenzo, Calogero’s hard-working father, a bus driver trying to teach his son not to admire the wise guys.Palminteri premiered the play to acclaim in 1989, first in Los Angeles, then off-Broadway. It jump-started his career, sparking a Hollywood bidding war. Palminteri refused to sell the film rights unless he was part of the package, writing the screenplay and playing Sonny.
Robert De Niro agreed to Palminteri’s terms, making his directorial debut with A Bronx Tale and co-starring as Lorenzo. A critical and box-office hit in 1993, it launched Palminteri’s film career, including his Oscar-nominated performance in Woody Allen’s Bullets Over Broadway
and other highlights from The Usual Suspects (Special Editon)and Hurlyburly to A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints.Palminteri returned to A Bronx Tale during the 2007-08 Broadway season, again to critical acclaim, followed by the national tour that brings the show to Hobby Center Tuesday.
"I wanted to get back to theater,” he says. “Everybody who’d seen the original run had talked about it for 20 years. And there’s a whole new generation of people who never saw it. I thought I should do it while I was still young enough. In another 20 years, I might not be up to the challenge. When you see me perform it on stage, you’ll see why.”
As to assuming the rigors of a tour, he says, “I was not going to let anybody else do the tour. This is my story.”
How tough was it for Palminteri to get a break in pictures? “The play was born out of my desperation to get a start in movies,” he says. “I’d studied with Lee Strasberg at the Actors Studio and acted off-Broadway before moving to Hollywood to try my luck at movies. I got TV guest shots but was finding it really hard to get into feature films.”
His low point was being fired from a job as nightclub doorman. “One night I didn’t let this gentleman into a party. And it turned out he was (famed agent) Swifty Lazar. And it was his party. I don’t know how I didn’t recognize him. “After getting fired, I went home and sat on the edge of my bed. Then I saw this card my dad had given me, emblazoned with the motto ‘The saddest thing in life is wasted talent.’ I said to myself, “I’m not going to waste my life or my talent. If they won’t give me a part, I’ll write one myself.”
Starting with the murder, he wrote the play in 5- to 10-minute sections. “I’d try each segment out in front of an audience on Monday nights at Theatre West in L.A. I’d tighten and fine-tune it, before coming back the next week with another 5 to 10 minutes. By the end of the year, I had a tight, 90-minute play.”
Palminteri says about 70 percent of A Bronx Tale comes from his life, though he has consolidated some events and tweaked the time frame to better serve the coming-of-age story that follows Calogero from ages 9 to 17.
“Authenticity counts,” Palminteri says. “It matters. I wanted to show the story not in blacks-and-whites, but shades of gray. Sonny isn’t all bad, Lorenzo isn’t all good. Calogero takes the best qualities of both as he grows to manhood.”
While the script has changed little since Palminteri first performed the play in 1989, it’s getting a more elaborate production this time. “I wanted to bring it back with a major director,” he says. He got one of Broadway’s best, four-time Tony winner Jerry Zaks (Guys and Dolls, Six Degrees of Separation, The House of Blue Leaves, Lend Me a Tenor.)
“What’s different is the presentation. There’s much more of a Broadway-caliber production around the performance.
“It’s also a different experience for me, emotionally deeper, because I’ve changed. When I did the play before, I hadn’t experienced marriage or fatherhood, and I identified with the son. Now I’m married, I have a son and daughter, and I identify much more with Lorenzo.”
While that may be the character with whom Palminteri feels the strongest identification, one of the biggest kicks of the show is getting to play 18 characters, including neighborhood eccentrics and assorted (not so) goodfellas.
How tough is Palminteri? In Faithful, he terrorized Cher. (Think about it.) Even in casual conversation, Palminteri’s voice carries that street-toughened edge of authority.
Some might say that quality has led to a certain amount of typecasting. But Palminteri has played characters on both sides of the law — not just mob bosses and hit men, but cops, lawyers and prosecutors (though not all were straight-arrow types.)
“Sure, the most famous roles are the tough guys, but I’ve done a lot of different movies. I prize my work in independent films like A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints, even if they’re not the most widely seen.”
Yonkers Joe, his latest of those, lets him mine both tough and tender veins. In the title role, he plays a professional gambler who must take on the care of his 20-year-old Down syndrome son, who’s not lived with him in years.
Palminteri anticipates being back on stage again in the next couple of years, either in Joanna Baldwin’s A Child-Proof Room or in a new play he’s writing.
Palminteri anticipates being back on stage again in the next couple of years, either in Joanna Baldwin’s A Child-Proof Room or in a new play he’s writing.
For now, he’s finding inspiration taking A Bronx Tale to audiences across the nation.
“The play is about the message on that card my father gave me,” he says. “About not wasting your life or your talent. I had cards printed up with that message and, when young people ask for my autograph after the show, I hand them that card.
“I’ve gotten a lot of calls from parents, from guidance counselors, saying the show’s message helped someone. ‘My son was on drugs and seeing the show changed him.’ Being able to have that effect is certainly inspirational to me.”
Thanks to Everett Evans
Rod Blagojevich to Join Pro Wrestling's Main Event Mafia?
TNA Wrestling is offering the newly created position of Chairman for its Main Event Mafia faction - and the opportunity to openly sell chairs, steel chairs - to ousted Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich.
TNA officials confirmed that Blagojevich, who was impeached by the Illinois Senate on January 29, is being offered the “Chairman” job within its Main Event Mafia faction, an elite unit which includes U.S. Olympic Gold Medal winner Kurt Angle, former World Heavyweight Champions Kevin Nash, Booker T., and Scott Steiner, and reigning TNA Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion Sting.
Blagojevich was arrested on criminal charges on December 9, 2008, for conspiring to sell the senate seat vacated by then-President Elect Barack Obama to the highest bidder, but Angle truly believes in the U.S. justice system.
“He’s innocent until proven guilty,” Angle said. “As the leader of the Main Event Mafia, I am a huge fan of the Illinois style of politics. As such, Governor Blagojevich is welcome to join me and the entire Main Event Mafia at any and all TNA events in the future, and certainly is welcome to sell his seat with us should he choose not to accept our generous offer.”
Blagojevich is a former amateur boxer, so Angle is convinced Blagojevich, “easily will be able to handle the transition to pro wrestling,” Angle said.
The Illinois House of Representatives voted in favor of impeachment by an astounding margin of 114-1. The Illinois Senate voted 59-0 to remove him as governor, and passed legislation to prevent him from returning to office in the future.
TNA officials confirmed that Blagojevich, who was impeached by the Illinois Senate on January 29, is being offered the “Chairman” job within its Main Event Mafia faction, an elite unit which includes U.S. Olympic Gold Medal winner Kurt Angle, former World Heavyweight Champions Kevin Nash, Booker T., and Scott Steiner, and reigning TNA Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion Sting.
Blagojevich was arrested on criminal charges on December 9, 2008, for conspiring to sell the senate seat vacated by then-President Elect Barack Obama to the highest bidder, but Angle truly believes in the U.S. justice system.
“He’s innocent until proven guilty,” Angle said. “As the leader of the Main Event Mafia, I am a huge fan of the Illinois style of politics. As such, Governor Blagojevich is welcome to join me and the entire Main Event Mafia at any and all TNA events in the future, and certainly is welcome to sell his seat with us should he choose not to accept our generous offer.”
Blagojevich is a former amateur boxer, so Angle is convinced Blagojevich, “easily will be able to handle the transition to pro wrestling,” Angle said.
The Illinois House of Representatives voted in favor of impeachment by an astounding margin of 114-1. The Illinois Senate voted 59-0 to remove him as governor, and passed legislation to prevent him from returning to office in the future.
Former State Lawyer Charges Blagojevich with Attempting to Steer Casino License to "Mobbed Up" Bidder
A former high-ranking state lawyer says she suffered dire consequences after refusing to take part in what she contends was the beginning of Governor Rod Blagojevich's corruption.
Unlike the impeachment and the criminal charges now facing Governor Blagojevich, what you are about to see is not from last month or even last year.
The corruption allegations began more than five years ago shortly after Rod Blagojevich was elected for the first time on a promise to reform Illinois politics.
"Today is my first full day on the job. I want to make clear that business as usual in Illinois state government is a thing of the past," said Blagojevich on Jan 14, 2003.
With that pledge, Mr. Blagojevich was off and running as Illinois governor. But in January 2003, as he jogged past the capitol, he didn't know that six years later the general assembly would be inside trying to throw him out. But a long-time state government attorney says that in 2003 she quickly had a sense of what was to come. "I was told that I would suffer dire consequences if I did not cooperate with the wishes of the administration," said Jeanette Tamayo, former state lawyer.
After the Blagojevich administration took charge six years ago, Tamayo was promoted from deputy chief legal counsel at the Illinois Gaming Board to interim administrator. At the time, gaming board members were deciding who would receive Illinois' tenth and final casino license. "It was very clear that the governor's interest revolved around the casino and the Village of Rosemont," said Tamayo.
Gaming board investigators didn't want Rosemont which they considered mobbed up. But according to a federal lawsuit filed by Jeanette Tamayo against Mr. Blagojevich and two of his top aides, Tamayo was threatened with retaliation and punishment if she didn't support a casino license for Rosemont.
"I received communications indicating what should happen with the gaming board and when I declined to cooperate with what I thought were unlawful or inappropriate requests, then my salary was not paid," said Tamayo.
Tamayo said "attempts to influence the outcome of the casino licensing investigation" were led by Chris Kelly who wasn't even a state employee. He was Blagojevich's chief fundraiser.
"He [Kelly] appeared at typically private meetings between the litigation counsel involved in the emerald casino cases and said 'I'm here. I represent the governor. I'm here to carry out his interests and this is what you are going to do'. He was not a lawyer. He was not on the state payroll. He just appeared as a representative of the governor and communicated or expressed that he was communicating the governor's wishes" said Tamayo.
Mr. Kelly's attorney Michael Monico of Chicago said that Kelly did nothing improper or illegal in any dealings with the Illinois Gaming Board. Kelly, who recently pleaded guilty to tax fraud charges, is not a named defendant in the lawsuit.
Former Blagojevich chief of staff Lon Monk is named in the suit, along with Illinois revenue director Brian Hamer who still holds that state job.
"On a state holiday I was invited to a meeting organized by the governor's staff, Lon Monk, to explain why I was not cooperating with the Illinois Department of Revenue. It was made very clear to me at that meeting that my cooperation was expected and how that cooperation was expected. And it was not a pleasant meeting," said Tamayo.
"When she resisted the governor and his administration's efforts to control and essentially take over the Illinois Gaming Board, she was retaliated against in terms of how she was treated and the salary the Illinois Gaming Board had approved for her," said Michael Condon, Tamayo's lawyer.
Tamayo says she complained to the house gaming committee, to other gaming board officials and went to the Illinois attorney general, questioning whether Blagojevich had a right to interfere with the supposedly independent board. That's when she claims to have been muscled by revenue boss Brian Hamer whom the suit says Mr. Blagojevich said "was his guy."
"He ordered me to stop consulting with the Attorney General and to instead consult with the governor's counsel," said Tamayo.
"What's come to light is a pattern of behavior by the governor and his administration in terms of how state government was being run and operated," said Condon.
Lawyers for the governor, his former chief of staff, the Illinois Gaming Board and the state revenue director would not comment for this report.
Lawyers for the Jeanette Tamayo case say they will soon try to have Blagojevich, Monk and Haymer come in for depositions in the case, all aimed at getting Tamayo her full back pay. She says she was forced to resign in 2006 and after a short stint at the Chicago Crime Commission, is now unemployed.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
Unlike the impeachment and the criminal charges now facing Governor Blagojevich, what you are about to see is not from last month or even last year.
The corruption allegations began more than five years ago shortly after Rod Blagojevich was elected for the first time on a promise to reform Illinois politics.
"Today is my first full day on the job. I want to make clear that business as usual in Illinois state government is a thing of the past," said Blagojevich on Jan 14, 2003.
With that pledge, Mr. Blagojevich was off and running as Illinois governor. But in January 2003, as he jogged past the capitol, he didn't know that six years later the general assembly would be inside trying to throw him out. But a long-time state government attorney says that in 2003 she quickly had a sense of what was to come. "I was told that I would suffer dire consequences if I did not cooperate with the wishes of the administration," said Jeanette Tamayo, former state lawyer.
After the Blagojevich administration took charge six years ago, Tamayo was promoted from deputy chief legal counsel at the Illinois Gaming Board to interim administrator. At the time, gaming board members were deciding who would receive Illinois' tenth and final casino license. "It was very clear that the governor's interest revolved around the casino and the Village of Rosemont," said Tamayo.
Gaming board investigators didn't want Rosemont which they considered mobbed up. But according to a federal lawsuit filed by Jeanette Tamayo against Mr. Blagojevich and two of his top aides, Tamayo was threatened with retaliation and punishment if she didn't support a casino license for Rosemont.
"I received communications indicating what should happen with the gaming board and when I declined to cooperate with what I thought were unlawful or inappropriate requests, then my salary was not paid," said Tamayo.
Tamayo said "attempts to influence the outcome of the casino licensing investigation" were led by Chris Kelly who wasn't even a state employee. He was Blagojevich's chief fundraiser.
"He [Kelly] appeared at typically private meetings between the litigation counsel involved in the emerald casino cases and said 'I'm here. I represent the governor. I'm here to carry out his interests and this is what you are going to do'. He was not a lawyer. He was not on the state payroll. He just appeared as a representative of the governor and communicated or expressed that he was communicating the governor's wishes" said Tamayo.
Mr. Kelly's attorney Michael Monico of Chicago said that Kelly did nothing improper or illegal in any dealings with the Illinois Gaming Board. Kelly, who recently pleaded guilty to tax fraud charges, is not a named defendant in the lawsuit.
Former Blagojevich chief of staff Lon Monk is named in the suit, along with Illinois revenue director Brian Hamer who still holds that state job.
"On a state holiday I was invited to a meeting organized by the governor's staff, Lon Monk, to explain why I was not cooperating with the Illinois Department of Revenue. It was made very clear to me at that meeting that my cooperation was expected and how that cooperation was expected. And it was not a pleasant meeting," said Tamayo.
"When she resisted the governor and his administration's efforts to control and essentially take over the Illinois Gaming Board, she was retaliated against in terms of how she was treated and the salary the Illinois Gaming Board had approved for her," said Michael Condon, Tamayo's lawyer.
Tamayo says she complained to the house gaming committee, to other gaming board officials and went to the Illinois attorney general, questioning whether Blagojevich had a right to interfere with the supposedly independent board. That's when she claims to have been muscled by revenue boss Brian Hamer whom the suit says Mr. Blagojevich said "was his guy."
"He ordered me to stop consulting with the Attorney General and to instead consult with the governor's counsel," said Tamayo.
"What's come to light is a pattern of behavior by the governor and his administration in terms of how state government was being run and operated," said Condon.
Lawyers for the governor, his former chief of staff, the Illinois Gaming Board and the state revenue director would not comment for this report.
Lawyers for the Jeanette Tamayo case say they will soon try to have Blagojevich, Monk and Haymer come in for depositions in the case, all aimed at getting Tamayo her full back pay. She says she was forced to resign in 2006 and after a short stint at the Chicago Crime Commission, is now unemployed.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Trial Ordered Over Beating of a Mob Rival
Louis "Bent Finger Lou" Monacello was ordered to stand trial on assault charges today after a government witness testified that back in July he agreed to pay $2,000 to have mob rival Marty Angelina beaten.
Frank "Frankie the Fixer" DiGiacomo said Monacello paid him the money in two installments and that part of one payment included $700 that DiGiacomo owed Monacello.
Testifying at a preliminary hearing this morning, DiGiacomo, 45, said Monacello originally talked about killing Angelina, but later said he just wanted him "beat up really bad."
Dressed in a tee shirt and work pants and sporting a goatee, DiGiacomo spent about 45 minutes on the stand. The former South Philadelphia plumber began cooperating with the State Police late in 2007.
Deputy Chief State Attorney General Erik Olsen offered testimony from DiGiacomo and from State Trooper Glenn Hopey to support the charges in the case. Olsen also played parts of three conversations secretly recorded by DiGiacomo.
Over the objections of defense attorneys who argued the government had failed to support the charges, Municipal Judge Bradley Moss ruled that the case could move forward to trial.
Monacello, 41, is charged with soliciting an aggravated assault and attempted aggravated assault.
While not part of today's testimony, investigators have said that Monacello had a falling out with Angelina over the collection of gambling debts.
Monacello and 16 others were arrested in July on gambling and loansharking charges related to an organized crime investigation in Delaware County dubbed operation "Delco Nostra."
The alleged plot against Angelina was uncovered during that investigation.
Thanks to George Anastasia
Frank "Frankie the Fixer" DiGiacomo said Monacello paid him the money in two installments and that part of one payment included $700 that DiGiacomo owed Monacello.
Testifying at a preliminary hearing this morning, DiGiacomo, 45, said Monacello originally talked about killing Angelina, but later said he just wanted him "beat up really bad."
Dressed in a tee shirt and work pants and sporting a goatee, DiGiacomo spent about 45 minutes on the stand. The former South Philadelphia plumber began cooperating with the State Police late in 2007.
Deputy Chief State Attorney General Erik Olsen offered testimony from DiGiacomo and from State Trooper Glenn Hopey to support the charges in the case. Olsen also played parts of three conversations secretly recorded by DiGiacomo.
Over the objections of defense attorneys who argued the government had failed to support the charges, Municipal Judge Bradley Moss ruled that the case could move forward to trial.
Monacello, 41, is charged with soliciting an aggravated assault and attempted aggravated assault.
While not part of today's testimony, investigators have said that Monacello had a falling out with Angelina over the collection of gambling debts.
Monacello and 16 others were arrested in July on gambling and loansharking charges related to an organized crime investigation in Delaware County dubbed operation "Delco Nostra."
The alleged plot against Angelina was uncovered during that investigation.
Thanks to George Anastasia
Reputed Gambino Hit Man, Charles Carneglia, Heads to Trial
It was the mob equivalent of a performance evaluation, and Charles Carneglia wasn't doing well. Gambino crime family captain Gene Gotti, prosecutors say, thought Carneglia's work was sloppy for an assassin.
"You stabbed somebody, Charles," the brother of the notorious Mafia boss said in a secretly recorded conversation in a prison visiting room.
"I know that, I know that. I know," Carneglia said.
Authorities say the conversation was about the fatal stabbing of a rival mobster during a beef outside a bar in Queens in 1977—one of five murders prosecutors will try to pin on Carneglia at a trial set to open Thursday in federal court in Brooklyn.
It's a case rife with gory details of Carneglia's alleged exploits, including claims the body of one victim of his hit team—a neighbor who accidentally ran over John Gotti's 12-year-old son—was dissolved in a vat of acid. The defendant wasn't charged in the neighbor's murder, though a judge has ruled that prosecutors can still tell jurors about the death—without mentioning the acid. There was no immediate response to a message seeking comment from Carneglia's attorney.
Carneglia was one of 62 people arrested last year in what authorities described as one of the largest roundups ever of suspected members and associates of a New York crime family. Since then 60 have pleaded guilty to lesser charges, and one case was dropped.
The jury will hear testimony from several mob turncoats who recently agreed to help investigators tackle unsolved slayings, some decades old.
Prosecutors allege the trail of bodies left behind by Carneglia includes those of a court officer gunned down in 1976 before he was to testify against Carneglia in a gun possession case; a Gambino associate stabbed to death in 1983 during an argument with Carneglia over money; a Gambino soldier killed on orders by John Gotti in 1990 in the parking lot of the World Trade Center; and an armored car security guard shot in the back during a heist in 1990.
Since his arrest, Carneglia has displayed a defiant streak: Prosecutors say when told he was facing charges under RICO—the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act—he quipped, "Who's RICO, Edward G. Robinson?" And the Daily News reported that at one court hearing he stared down the daughter of one of the victims, telling her, "Wrong guy."
The 62-year-old defendant once sported a long gray beard and pony tail—a look one prospective juror told the judge made him appear "a bit on the shady side." He since has shaved off the beard and gotten a hair cut.
If convicted, Carneglia faces a possible life prison term.
Thanks to Tom Hays
"You stabbed somebody, Charles," the brother of the notorious Mafia boss said in a secretly recorded conversation in a prison visiting room.
"I know that, I know that. I know," Carneglia said.
Authorities say the conversation was about the fatal stabbing of a rival mobster during a beef outside a bar in Queens in 1977—one of five murders prosecutors will try to pin on Carneglia at a trial set to open Thursday in federal court in Brooklyn.
It's a case rife with gory details of Carneglia's alleged exploits, including claims the body of one victim of his hit team—a neighbor who accidentally ran over John Gotti's 12-year-old son—was dissolved in a vat of acid. The defendant wasn't charged in the neighbor's murder, though a judge has ruled that prosecutors can still tell jurors about the death—without mentioning the acid. There was no immediate response to a message seeking comment from Carneglia's attorney.
Carneglia was one of 62 people arrested last year in what authorities described as one of the largest roundups ever of suspected members and associates of a New York crime family. Since then 60 have pleaded guilty to lesser charges, and one case was dropped.
The jury will hear testimony from several mob turncoats who recently agreed to help investigators tackle unsolved slayings, some decades old.
Prosecutors allege the trail of bodies left behind by Carneglia includes those of a court officer gunned down in 1976 before he was to testify against Carneglia in a gun possession case; a Gambino associate stabbed to death in 1983 during an argument with Carneglia over money; a Gambino soldier killed on orders by John Gotti in 1990 in the parking lot of the World Trade Center; and an armored car security guard shot in the back during a heist in 1990.
Since his arrest, Carneglia has displayed a defiant streak: Prosecutors say when told he was facing charges under RICO—the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act—he quipped, "Who's RICO, Edward G. Robinson?" And the Daily News reported that at one court hearing he stared down the daughter of one of the victims, telling her, "Wrong guy."
The 62-year-old defendant once sported a long gray beard and pony tail—a look one prospective juror told the judge made him appear "a bit on the shady side." He since has shaved off the beard and gotten a hair cut.
If convicted, Carneglia faces a possible life prison term.
Thanks to Tom Hays
First Conviction from "Operation Delco Nostra" Organized Crime Investigation
State prosecutors have scored their first conviction stemming from the "Operation Delco Nostra" organized-crime investigation that led to 17 arrests last summer and exposed an alleged plot to attack Philadelphia mobster Martin "Marty" Angelina.
Daniel Diedrich, a former supervisor in the Delaware County Domestic Relations Department, pleaded guilty yesterday in Media to one count of bookmaking. He was sentenced to two years' probation and fined $1,000.
Diedrich, 34, of Clifton Heights, was a low-level member of the sophisticated bookmaking, gambling and loan-sharking organization that authorities say was run by Nicholas "Nicky the Hat" Cimino between 2002 and 2007.
"He was not in a management position. He was a worker," said Chief Deputy Attorney General Erik Olsen.
Olsen said there was no evidence that Diedrich had engaged in any illegal activity while working in the county courthouse.
The other defendants, including reputed Philly mob associate Louis "Bent Finger Lou" Monacello, are scheduled for a hearing in Delaware County court in March on charges that include gambling, bookmaking, criminal conspiracy and corrupt organizations.
Monacello, 42, of South Philadelphia, who authorities say answers to jailed former consigliere George Borgesi, is also charged in Philadelphia with soliciting aggravated assault. According to a grand-jury presentment, Monacello tried to hire someone to have Angelina - allegedly a "made" member of the mob - beaten so badly he'd be hospitalized.
Monacello's preliminary hearing on that charge is set for next week.
Borgesi, imprisoned in West Virginia, was convicted in 2001 during a 14-week racketeering trial along with former Philadelphia crime boss Joseph "Skinny Joey" Merlino.
Thanks to William Bender
Daniel Diedrich, a former supervisor in the Delaware County Domestic Relations Department, pleaded guilty yesterday in Media to one count of bookmaking. He was sentenced to two years' probation and fined $1,000.
Diedrich, 34, of Clifton Heights, was a low-level member of the sophisticated bookmaking, gambling and loan-sharking organization that authorities say was run by Nicholas "Nicky the Hat" Cimino between 2002 and 2007.
"He was not in a management position. He was a worker," said Chief Deputy Attorney General Erik Olsen.
Olsen said there was no evidence that Diedrich had engaged in any illegal activity while working in the county courthouse.
The other defendants, including reputed Philly mob associate Louis "Bent Finger Lou" Monacello, are scheduled for a hearing in Delaware County court in March on charges that include gambling, bookmaking, criminal conspiracy and corrupt organizations.
Monacello, 42, of South Philadelphia, who authorities say answers to jailed former consigliere George Borgesi, is also charged in Philadelphia with soliciting aggravated assault. According to a grand-jury presentment, Monacello tried to hire someone to have Angelina - allegedly a "made" member of the mob - beaten so badly he'd be hospitalized.
Monacello's preliminary hearing on that charge is set for next week.
Borgesi, imprisoned in West Virginia, was convicted in 2001 during a 14-week racketeering trial along with former Philadelphia crime boss Joseph "Skinny Joey" Merlino.
Thanks to William Bender
Feds Keeping an Eye on Luigi "Baby Shacks" Manocchio
Ever since Luigi "Baby Shacks" Manocchio, reputed mob boss of the Patriarca Crime Family, took the reigns from Boston's Francis "Cadillac Frank" Salemme in 1996, he's been able to avoid significant legal troubles from law enforcement. But, that stretch may be coming to an end.
Manocchio, 80, is not charged with any crime at this time. However, the Target 12 Investigators have learned within the last several months, FBI agents served a search warrant on Manocchio. Investigators reportedly found a small amount of cash in Manocchio's possession. Cash, investigators said, they could trace as tribute money; which is money paid up to a mob boss.
According to Target 12 sources, Manocchio immediately began shopping around for an attorney. However, it is unclear who, if anyone, he's retained.
Sources on Federal Hill - the Providence neighborhood out of which Manocchio runs the crime family - said they haven't seen Manocchio since the feds moved in, leaving many to wonder if he went on the run. However, law enforcement sources said Manocchio often travels during the winter, and they are not concerned about his absence at this point in time.
Although the FBI won't comment if Manocchio is part of an ongoing criminal investigation, it's no secret agents are keeping an eye on him.
In fact, shortly after arriving in Providence to head up the FBI's Organized Crime Unit for New England, FBI Supervisory Special Agent Jeffrey Sallet approached Manocchio on Federal Hill in 2007, introduced himself and let him know he was watching.
Thanks to Target 12
Manocchio, 80, is not charged with any crime at this time. However, the Target 12 Investigators have learned within the last several months, FBI agents served a search warrant on Manocchio. Investigators reportedly found a small amount of cash in Manocchio's possession. Cash, investigators said, they could trace as tribute money; which is money paid up to a mob boss.
According to Target 12 sources, Manocchio immediately began shopping around for an attorney. However, it is unclear who, if anyone, he's retained.
Sources on Federal Hill - the Providence neighborhood out of which Manocchio runs the crime family - said they haven't seen Manocchio since the feds moved in, leaving many to wonder if he went on the run. However, law enforcement sources said Manocchio often travels during the winter, and they are not concerned about his absence at this point in time.
Although the FBI won't comment if Manocchio is part of an ongoing criminal investigation, it's no secret agents are keeping an eye on him.
In fact, shortly after arriving in Providence to head up the FBI's Organized Crime Unit for New England, FBI Supervisory Special Agent Jeffrey Sallet approached Manocchio on Federal Hill in 2007, introduced himself and let him know he was watching.
Thanks to Target 12
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Courtroom Outbursts Don't Prevent Life Sentence for Reputed Mob Crew Boss Frank Calabrese Sr.
With the national media finally interested in Illinois corruption, it's too bad they were focused on Springfield's dancing monkey show and not on what happened in a federal courtroom in Chicago on Wednesday.
That wasn't a monkey dancing on a string. It was an ape. The kind of ape that pulls the strings on the dancing monkeys.
His name is Frank Calabrese, the former Chicago Outfit Chinatown crew boss, convicted of racketeering conspiracy involving seven murders in the FBI's historic Operation Family Secrets case of 18 unsolved hits. Six other bodies were attributed to Calabrese at his sentencing.
Calabrese, 71, wore a wrinkled orange jumpsuit, with old man glasses attached to his head with a thick felt strap. Yet when he'd raise his paws you could see they were once powerful enough to strangle a man until his eyes popped out. Or stab him to death. Or beat him to death. Or pull a trigger. Or set off a bomb and more.
One of the victims was Paul Haggerty, who was 27 in 1976 when the Calabrese crew picked him up to question him about missing jewels. Haggerty was handcuffed, his eyes and mouth taped shut and tortured. Frank strangled him with a rope. They cut his throat and dumped him in the trunk.
On Wednesday, Haggerty's widow, Charlene Moravecek, confronted Calabrese as a parade of victim families told their stories to U.S. District Court Judge James Zagel.
"God bless you!" Calabrese told Moravecek. She rounded on him, shouting, "Don't you mock me! Don't! Your honor, I don't want to hear from him."
Calabrese's own son, Kurt—a convicted Outfit loan shark—appeared before Zagel as a victim, saying his father beat him, belittled him, threatened to bite the nose off his face and kill him. "He was more an enforcer than a father," Kurt said, turning to Frank. "And I want you to apologize for what you did to me and my brother."
Frank shouted that his sons and his hit man brother Nick, who turned federal witness, had betrayed him with lies. "You better apologize for the lies you are telling, that's what you better do!" Frank bellowed, the old man gone now, the Chinatown strangler rampant. "Tell them about the money you stole, the million dollars [cash] you stole from me and the $110,000 that didn't belong to you!" Frank Calabrese said, of mob cash he'd stashed away before going to prison in the 1990s. "If I was such a bad dad, why didn't I do anything to you then? You were treated like a king!"
Kurt stalked out of the courtroom, and I followed him down the hall, where he was leaning against a wall, emotional. "That's the last time I'm ever going to see my father," Kurt told me. "I just wanted him to apologize."
What about the missing $1 million? Did you take it? "No," Kurt said. "All I wanted was an apology. But you see how he was. He still thinks he's the boss."
Frank Calabrese finally got his say, insisting he never killed or beat anyone, that he helped Connie's Pizza, not merely charged them street tax, and that his juice loans were more user-friendly than payday loans. "I'm not no big shot," he said. "I'm not nothing but another human being." He added that his brother Nick was a coward. "Which is why I called him Alfredo, from ' The Godfather,' " speaking of the fictional Corleone who betrayed his own brother.
Zagel gave Frank Calabrese life in prison, saying he'd never seen a case in which two sons and a brother testified against a father. "Perhaps you didn't have a loving family," Zagel said. "Your crimes are unspeakable."
During the Family Secrets trial, the connection between Chicago politics and the Outfit came up often. In one bit of testimony in 2007, Mayor Richard Daley's friend Fred Bruno Barbara, the trucking boss and Rush Street investor, was identified by Nick Calabrese as a willing driver for mob boss Angelo "The Hook" LaPietra on bombing runs.
Daley got so angry when asked about Barbara that he turned purple and shrieked. The governor of Illinois could have called him "cuckoo."
For generations, the Outfit has formed the base of the iron triangle that runs things, and no understanding of politics in Illinois is complete without them.
Sentencing of other bosses continues on Monday. The dancing monkey show in Springfield will be over by then, but if the national media wants to understand Chicago, they should show up in federal court to see how the apes behave.
Thanks to John Kass
That wasn't a monkey dancing on a string. It was an ape. The kind of ape that pulls the strings on the dancing monkeys.
His name is Frank Calabrese, the former Chicago Outfit Chinatown crew boss, convicted of racketeering conspiracy involving seven murders in the FBI's historic Operation Family Secrets case of 18 unsolved hits. Six other bodies were attributed to Calabrese at his sentencing.
Calabrese, 71, wore a wrinkled orange jumpsuit, with old man glasses attached to his head with a thick felt strap. Yet when he'd raise his paws you could see they were once powerful enough to strangle a man until his eyes popped out. Or stab him to death. Or beat him to death. Or pull a trigger. Or set off a bomb and more.
One of the victims was Paul Haggerty, who was 27 in 1976 when the Calabrese crew picked him up to question him about missing jewels. Haggerty was handcuffed, his eyes and mouth taped shut and tortured. Frank strangled him with a rope. They cut his throat and dumped him in the trunk.
On Wednesday, Haggerty's widow, Charlene Moravecek, confronted Calabrese as a parade of victim families told their stories to U.S. District Court Judge James Zagel.
"God bless you!" Calabrese told Moravecek. She rounded on him, shouting, "Don't you mock me! Don't! Your honor, I don't want to hear from him."
Calabrese's own son, Kurt—a convicted Outfit loan shark—appeared before Zagel as a victim, saying his father beat him, belittled him, threatened to bite the nose off his face and kill him. "He was more an enforcer than a father," Kurt said, turning to Frank. "And I want you to apologize for what you did to me and my brother."
Frank shouted that his sons and his hit man brother Nick, who turned federal witness, had betrayed him with lies. "You better apologize for the lies you are telling, that's what you better do!" Frank bellowed, the old man gone now, the Chinatown strangler rampant. "Tell them about the money you stole, the million dollars [cash] you stole from me and the $110,000 that didn't belong to you!" Frank Calabrese said, of mob cash he'd stashed away before going to prison in the 1990s. "If I was such a bad dad, why didn't I do anything to you then? You were treated like a king!"
Kurt stalked out of the courtroom, and I followed him down the hall, where he was leaning against a wall, emotional. "That's the last time I'm ever going to see my father," Kurt told me. "I just wanted him to apologize."
What about the missing $1 million? Did you take it? "No," Kurt said. "All I wanted was an apology. But you see how he was. He still thinks he's the boss."
Frank Calabrese finally got his say, insisting he never killed or beat anyone, that he helped Connie's Pizza, not merely charged them street tax, and that his juice loans were more user-friendly than payday loans. "I'm not no big shot," he said. "I'm not nothing but another human being." He added that his brother Nick was a coward. "Which is why I called him Alfredo, from ' The Godfather,' " speaking of the fictional Corleone who betrayed his own brother.
Zagel gave Frank Calabrese life in prison, saying he'd never seen a case in which two sons and a brother testified against a father. "Perhaps you didn't have a loving family," Zagel said. "Your crimes are unspeakable."
During the Family Secrets trial, the connection between Chicago politics and the Outfit came up often. In one bit of testimony in 2007, Mayor Richard Daley's friend Fred Bruno Barbara, the trucking boss and Rush Street investor, was identified by Nick Calabrese as a willing driver for mob boss Angelo "The Hook" LaPietra on bombing runs.
Daley got so angry when asked about Barbara that he turned purple and shrieked. The governor of Illinois could have called him "cuckoo."
For generations, the Outfit has formed the base of the iron triangle that runs things, and no understanding of politics in Illinois is complete without them.
Sentencing of other bosses continues on Monday. The dancing monkey show in Springfield will be over by then, but if the national media wants to understand Chicago, they should show up in federal court to see how the apes behave.
Thanks to John Kass
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Reputed Mob Boss, Frank Calabrese Sr., Sentenced to Life in Prison
A Chicago Outfit boss convicted in the landmark Family Secrets trial in 2007 was sentenced to life in prison in federal court downtown this afternoon.
A jury convicted Frank Calabrese Sr. and other Chicago mob bosses in a conspiracy stretching back to the 1960s, linking them to numerous gangland slayings.
Speaking to Calabrese during sentencing, U.S. District Court Judge James Zagel told him, "Your crimes are unspeakable."
Last April, a federal judge denied a new trial for Calabrese, saying he didn't find that an alleged threat by Calabrese against a prosecutor tainted jurors.
Calabrese allegedly was seen mouthing: "You are a [expletive] dead man."
Some defense lawyers argued that the alleged threat could have prejudiced the juror who saw it. The juror apparently discussed it in deliberations and later reported it to prosecutors. But a judge heard from the juror in a closed-door hearing and ruled that jurors are permitted to observe defendants in court.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
A jury convicted Frank Calabrese Sr. and other Chicago mob bosses in a conspiracy stretching back to the 1960s, linking them to numerous gangland slayings.
Speaking to Calabrese during sentencing, U.S. District Court Judge James Zagel told him, "Your crimes are unspeakable."
Last April, a federal judge denied a new trial for Calabrese, saying he didn't find that an alleged threat by Calabrese against a prosecutor tainted jurors.
Calabrese allegedly was seen mouthing: "You are a [expletive] dead man."
Some defense lawyers argued that the alleged threat could have prejudiced the juror who saw it. The juror apparently discussed it in deliberations and later reported it to prosecutors. But a judge heard from the juror in a closed-door hearing and ruled that jurors are permitted to observe defendants in court.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
Top Ten Ways Rod Blagojevich Can Improve His Image
10 Star in new television series, "America's Funniest Haircuts"
9. Quit politics and become a fat, lovable mall cop
8. Start pronouncing last name with Jerry Lewis-like "BLAGOOOOYYYYYJEVICH"
7. Offer a senate seat with no money down, zero percent interest
6. Team up with John Malkovich and Erin Brockovich for hot Malkovich-Brockovich-Blagojevich sex tape
5. Change his name to Barod Obamavich
4. Safely land an Airbus on the Hudson River
3. I don't know...how about showing up for his impeachment trial?
2. Wear sexy dresses, high heels and say, "You Betcha!"
1. Uhhh...resign?
9. Quit politics and become a fat, lovable mall cop
8. Start pronouncing last name with Jerry Lewis-like "BLAGOOOOYYYYYJEVICH"
7. Offer a senate seat with no money down, zero percent interest
6. Team up with John Malkovich and Erin Brockovich for hot Malkovich-Brockovich-Blagojevich sex tape
5. Change his name to Barod Obamavich
4. Safely land an Airbus on the Hudson River
3. I don't know...how about showing up for his impeachment trial?
2. Wear sexy dresses, high heels and say, "You Betcha!"
1. Uhhh...resign?
Reputed Mob Hit Man, Charles Carneglia, Given Extreme Makeover in Time for Trial
Fearsome reputed hit man Charles Carneglia has undergone a wiseguy makeover on the eve of his federal trial.
A prison barber did wonders for Carneglia, transforming him from a scary Charles Manson look-alike to a craggy Gorton's Fisherman. Carneglia's ponytail is gone. The stringy, white hair and flowing beard have been neatly trimmed.
The fearsome enforcer for the Gambino crime family, who is charged with five murders, wore a cardigan sweater for jury selection Monday and a powder-blue pullover Tuesday.
Despite the radical change, Carneglia's previous look was apparently burned indelibly in the mind of at least one prospective juror who got a glimpse of the old Charles last week in Brooklyn Federal Court on the first day of jury selection.
"His appearance gave me the impression he was guilty," the anonymous juror told Judge Jack Weinstein. "He looked a little bit on the shady side with the ponytail and the beard."
The juror was excused, and Carneglia glared at him as he left the room.
Defense lawyer Curtis Farber insisted there is no plan to make Carneglia look less sinister. "He looks the same to me," Farber said, adding that Carneglia had trouble getting in to see the barber and having his dentures fixed over the 11 months he has been in the Metropolitan Detention Center.
Federal prosecutors have lined up at least 10 cooperating witnesses to testify at the blockbuster Mafia trial beginning Thursday.
They include the late John Gotti's self-described "adopted son" Lewis Kasman and Gambino associate John Alite, who will be the star witness against John A. (Junior) Gotti at his trial late this year.
Thanks to John Marzulli
A prison barber did wonders for Carneglia, transforming him from a scary Charles Manson look-alike to a craggy Gorton's Fisherman. Carneglia's ponytail is gone. The stringy, white hair and flowing beard have been neatly trimmed.
The fearsome enforcer for the Gambino crime family, who is charged with five murders, wore a cardigan sweater for jury selection Monday and a powder-blue pullover Tuesday.
Despite the radical change, Carneglia's previous look was apparently burned indelibly in the mind of at least one prospective juror who got a glimpse of the old Charles last week in Brooklyn Federal Court on the first day of jury selection.
"His appearance gave me the impression he was guilty," the anonymous juror told Judge Jack Weinstein. "He looked a little bit on the shady side with the ponytail and the beard."
The juror was excused, and Carneglia glared at him as he left the room.
Defense lawyer Curtis Farber insisted there is no plan to make Carneglia look less sinister. "He looks the same to me," Farber said, adding that Carneglia had trouble getting in to see the barber and having his dentures fixed over the 11 months he has been in the Metropolitan Detention Center.
Federal prosecutors have lined up at least 10 cooperating witnesses to testify at the blockbuster Mafia trial beginning Thursday.
They include the late John Gotti's self-described "adopted son" Lewis Kasman and Gambino associate John Alite, who will be the star witness against John A. (Junior) Gotti at his trial late this year.
Thanks to John Marzulli
Monday, January 26, 2009
Mobster, Paul "The Indian" Schiro, Given the Maximum Time in Prison
The first defendant to be sentenced in the Family Secrets mob conspiracy case was given 20 years in prison by a federal judge today, the maximum amount of time he could receive for his role in the conspiracy.
Paul "the Indian" Schiro had appeared emotionless during the landmark 2007 trial, but addressed U.S. District Judge James Zagel briefly today as he was about to learn his punishment.
Schiro accused Assistant U.S. Atty. Markus Funk of "misquoting things," and said he had no idea why the jury had found him guilty. "I went to trial with co-defendants I never met in my life," Schiro said.
Zagel said there was plenty of evidence linking Schiro to the conspiracy, and to the 1986 murder of Emil Vaci. The jury had been unable to reach a verdict blaming Schiro for that killing, but Zagel said Schiro had been involved.
He likened Schiro to a sleeper agent who was an Outfit associate allowed to carry out his own burglary activity. But Schiro never hesitated when asked to help kill Vaci, who was shot to death in Arizona after he began being interviewed by a grand jury.
"There was no evidence of his hesitation," Zagel said. "He was available."
Four others were convicted in the case, and their sentencings are set to begin within days, beginning Wednesday with Frank Calabrese Sr. The defendants were accused in a decades-long conspiracy that included 18 gangland killings.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
Paul "the Indian" Schiro had appeared emotionless during the landmark 2007 trial, but addressed U.S. District Judge James Zagel briefly today as he was about to learn his punishment.
Schiro accused Assistant U.S. Atty. Markus Funk of "misquoting things," and said he had no idea why the jury had found him guilty. "I went to trial with co-defendants I never met in my life," Schiro said.
Zagel said there was plenty of evidence linking Schiro to the conspiracy, and to the 1986 murder of Emil Vaci. The jury had been unable to reach a verdict blaming Schiro for that killing, but Zagel said Schiro had been involved.
He likened Schiro to a sleeper agent who was an Outfit associate allowed to carry out his own burglary activity. But Schiro never hesitated when asked to help kill Vaci, who was shot to death in Arizona after he began being interviewed by a grand jury.
"There was no evidence of his hesitation," Zagel said. "He was available."
Four others were convicted in the case, and their sentencings are set to begin within days, beginning Wednesday with Frank Calabrese Sr. The defendants were accused in a decades-long conspiracy that included 18 gangland killings.
Thanks to Jeff Coen
Informer: The Journal of American Mafia History - January Issue
The January 2009 issue of
INFORMER:
INFORMER:
The Journal of American Mafia History
is available now.
is available now.
CONTENTS
- Martyr: Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino
- The Mob's Worst Year: 1957, Part 2 of 2
- Kansas City Mafia Membership, 1910s-1940s
- Author Interview with Scott Deitche
- Book Review of Ouseley's Open City
- Ask the Informer: Pollaccia, Society of the Banana
- Top 10 Mob News Stories of 2008
- Deaths: Rosenthal, Scala, Valenti, Spero.
Informer is also available for purchase as a preprinted and bound magazine delivered to your home.
Print subscriptions: http://mafiainformer.blogspot.com/
Single copy preview/purchase: http://magcloud.com/browse/Issue/5921
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Operation Family Secrets Mob Trial Sentencing to Continue This Week
Federal agents tried for more than three decades to penetrate the deepest secrets of Chicago's organized crime family -- the names of those responsible for 18 ruthless murders aimed at silencing witnesses and meting out mob vengeance. They even called the investigation Operation Family Secrets.
Their patience was rewarded six years ago when a mob hit man began to spill the family secrets as part of a deal to keep himself out of the execution chamber. And starting this week, three aging dons of the Chicago underworld convicted in September 2007 as a result of that testimony are due to receive long sentences -- quite likely life.
Two alleged henchmen also convicted after the 10-week Family Secrets trial are expected to get long sentences as well.
"These were the main guys who ran the crime syndicate -- they were ruthless, they were absolutely ruthless," says retired police detective Al Egan, also a former longtime member of an FBI-led organized crime task force.
Wisecracking mob boss Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, 80; convicted loan shark and hit man Frank Calabrese Sr., 71; and James Marcello, 66, all face a maximum of punishment of life in prison.
Former Chicago police officer Anthony Doyle, 64, and convicted jewel thief Paul Schiro, 71, weren't convicted of any murders but the jury found them guilty of participating in what prosecutors say was a long-running conspiracy that included killings, gambling, loan-sharking and squeezing businesses for "street tax."
The case is a major success for the FBI in its war on the mob.
"It led to the removal or displacement of some of the most capable guys in organized crime," says author John Binder whose book, "The Chicago Outfit," tells the story of organized crime in the nation's third largest city. And it sends a strong message to members of organized crime: Do you really want to be the guy at the top? Because we're going to get you in the future."
Lombardo is the most colorful defendant. He was sent to federal prison in the 1980s for conspiring with International Brotherhood of Teamsters President Roy Lee Williams and union pension fund manager Allen Dorfman to bribe Sen. Howard Cannon, D-Nev., to help defeat a trucking deregulation bill. Cannon was never charged with any wrongdoing and the bill became law with his support.
When Lombardo got out, he resumed life as the boss of the mob's Grand Avenue street crew, prosecutors say. He denies it but his attorney, Rick Halprin, told the trial he ran "the oldest and most reliable floating craps game on Grand Avenue."
When the Family Secrets indictment was unsealed, Lombardo went on the lam for nine months. And when he was brought before Zagel, the irrepressible clown quickly lived up to his nickname. The judge asked him why he had not seen a doctor lately.
"I was supposed to see him nine months ago," Lombardo rasped, "but I was -- what do they call it? -- I was unavailable."
"A little joke now and then never hurts," he told the trial. But the jury found him responsible for gunning down a federal witness.
The jury also found Calabrese responsible for seven murders.
His own brother, Nicholas Calabrese, 66, testified that Frank liked to strangle victims with a rope and slash their throats to make sure they were dead.
Nicholas Calabrese became the government's star witness after he dropped a bloody glove near the scene of a mob murder. He agreed to talk out of fear that agents would match his DNA to that on the glove and he would be sentenced to death.
Among other things, he said his brother Frank liked to give names to their mob hits.
One was known as "Strangers in the Night," he testified. That was because the Frank Sinatra song was playing on the jukebox while two men were strangled in 1978 in a suburban Cicero restaurant.
Marcello was at one time the mob's big boss, according to federal investigators.
The jury held him among those responsible for the murder of Anthony "Tony the Ant" Spilotro, at one time the Chicago mob's man in Las Vegas and the inspiration for the Joe Pesci character in the movie "Casino."
Spilotro and his brother Michael were found buried in a shallow grave in an Indiana cornfield.
Doyle is the only one of those convicted at the trial who is not accused of direct involvement in the murders.
Schiro was sentenced to prison for 5 1/2 years in 2002 for being part of a gang of jewel thieves run by the former chief of detectives of the Chicago police department, William Hanhardt. Prosecutors claimed he was to blame for a mob hit in Phoenix. But the jury deadlocked on the case.
Nicholas Calabrese is to be sentenced Feb. 23.
Thanks to CBS2
Their patience was rewarded six years ago when a mob hit man began to spill the family secrets as part of a deal to keep himself out of the execution chamber. And starting this week, three aging dons of the Chicago underworld convicted in September 2007 as a result of that testimony are due to receive long sentences -- quite likely life.
Two alleged henchmen also convicted after the 10-week Family Secrets trial are expected to get long sentences as well.
"These were the main guys who ran the crime syndicate -- they were ruthless, they were absolutely ruthless," says retired police detective Al Egan, also a former longtime member of an FBI-led organized crime task force.
Wisecracking mob boss Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, 80; convicted loan shark and hit man Frank Calabrese Sr., 71; and James Marcello, 66, all face a maximum of punishment of life in prison.
Former Chicago police officer Anthony Doyle, 64, and convicted jewel thief Paul Schiro, 71, weren't convicted of any murders but the jury found them guilty of participating in what prosecutors say was a long-running conspiracy that included killings, gambling, loan-sharking and squeezing businesses for "street tax."
The case is a major success for the FBI in its war on the mob.
"It led to the removal or displacement of some of the most capable guys in organized crime," says author John Binder whose book, "The Chicago Outfit," tells the story of organized crime in the nation's third largest city. And it sends a strong message to members of organized crime: Do you really want to be the guy at the top? Because we're going to get you in the future."
Lombardo is the most colorful defendant. He was sent to federal prison in the 1980s for conspiring with International Brotherhood of Teamsters President Roy Lee Williams and union pension fund manager Allen Dorfman to bribe Sen. Howard Cannon, D-Nev., to help defeat a trucking deregulation bill. Cannon was never charged with any wrongdoing and the bill became law with his support.
When Lombardo got out, he resumed life as the boss of the mob's Grand Avenue street crew, prosecutors say. He denies it but his attorney, Rick Halprin, told the trial he ran "the oldest and most reliable floating craps game on Grand Avenue."
When the Family Secrets indictment was unsealed, Lombardo went on the lam for nine months. And when he was brought before Zagel, the irrepressible clown quickly lived up to his nickname. The judge asked him why he had not seen a doctor lately.
"I was supposed to see him nine months ago," Lombardo rasped, "but I was -- what do they call it? -- I was unavailable."
"A little joke now and then never hurts," he told the trial. But the jury found him responsible for gunning down a federal witness.
The jury also found Calabrese responsible for seven murders.
His own brother, Nicholas Calabrese, 66, testified that Frank liked to strangle victims with a rope and slash their throats to make sure they were dead.
Nicholas Calabrese became the government's star witness after he dropped a bloody glove near the scene of a mob murder. He agreed to talk out of fear that agents would match his DNA to that on the glove and he would be sentenced to death.
Among other things, he said his brother Frank liked to give names to their mob hits.
One was known as "Strangers in the Night," he testified. That was because the Frank Sinatra song was playing on the jukebox while two men were strangled in 1978 in a suburban Cicero restaurant.
Marcello was at one time the mob's big boss, according to federal investigators.
The jury held him among those responsible for the murder of Anthony "Tony the Ant" Spilotro, at one time the Chicago mob's man in Las Vegas and the inspiration for the Joe Pesci character in the movie "Casino."
Spilotro and his brother Michael were found buried in a shallow grave in an Indiana cornfield.
Doyle is the only one of those convicted at the trial who is not accused of direct involvement in the murders.
Schiro was sentenced to prison for 5 1/2 years in 2002 for being part of a gang of jewel thieves run by the former chief of detectives of the Chicago police department, William Hanhardt. Prosecutors claimed he was to blame for a mob hit in Phoenix. But the jury deadlocked on the case.
Nicholas Calabrese is to be sentenced Feb. 23.
Thanks to CBS2
Blagojevich's Brother Tied to Betty Loren-Maltese
His last name is Blagojevich but his first name is Robert. He's the older brother of the embattled Illinois governor.
Who is Robert Blagojevich and why was the FBI listening to his cell phone calls?
Robert Blagojevich has been his 'brother's keeper' since last August or at least the keeper of his brother's multi-million dollar campaign fund, a political fund that Robert Blagojevich's lawyer says is likely to be indicted before it's all over.
The I-Team found that one of the most puzzling questions about the governor's brother concerns someone else's campaign fund.
On election night 2002, when Rod Blagojevich watched the returns roll in and won his first term as Illinois governor, brother Robert was there with him. But at the same time, according to state election records, Robert's financial services firm had an interest in another Illinois elected official, Betty Loren Maltese.
Maltese is the controversial and now imprisoned mayor of Cicero.
For more than two years, Maltese' bulging campaign fund had invested millions of dollars through a company headquartered in Tampa, Florida, the firm Invest Financial Corporation. Its CEO at the time was Robert Blagojevich, the governor's older brother.
State records show that between July of 2000 and September of 2002, Robert Blagojevich's company paid Maltese' campaign fund nearly $3.3 million. The dozens of entries are listed as investment dividends, interest and proceeds from the sale of U.S. Treasury bills.
Some of the investment payments from Robert Blagojevich's company occurred even after Mayor Maltese was convicted of swindling $12 million from the town through an insurance firm.
Lawyer Michael Ettinger, who represents the governor's brother in the current federal investigation, was unaware of the link to Betty Loren Maltese.
On Wednesday at the I-Team's request, Ettinger had Robert Blagojevich review the state records and Blagojevich reported that "he knows nothing about it" and that the investments must have been made by some other affiliated bank even though his was listed 41 times.
Since taking over as chairman of his brother's campaign fund, Robert Blagojevich has been paid $12,500 a month.
The FBI listened to as many as 50 phone calls between Robert, his brother the governor and others. Many of the calls were from Nashville, Tennessee where Robert Blagojevich lives in a stately colonial. The former U.S. Army commander is a real estate developer there, and a key fundraiser and board member for the YMCA.
"Selfless person, doesn't want recognition. Actually would rather not have it," said Michael Check, Nashville YMCA. But when federal authorities charged the governor last month, his brother was "fundraiser a" in the criminal complaint. In one conversation the governor allegedly told his brother that he wanted to collect cash upfront for the appointment to Barack Obama's Senate seat.
It was just a few months earlier, in May, that Robert Blagojevich gave the commencement speech at his alma mater, University of Tampa.
Oddly, even though his brother the governor also attended University of Tampa, Robert did not once utter his brother's name during the speech.
As for the Betty Loren Maltese financial affair, there are Blagojevich family ties to the crooked mayor of Cicero.
Governor Blagojevich and ex-mayor Maltese have one friend in common: Eddie Vrdolyak, the former Chicago alderman and longtime village attorney in Cicero. Gov. Blagojevich's first job was as a clerk in Vrdolyak's law firm and it was a relationship that rekindled when Blagojevich was elected governor. Vyrdolyak himself is now headed to federal prison for a kickback scheme involving one of the governor's top appointees.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
Who is Robert Blagojevich and why was the FBI listening to his cell phone calls?
Robert Blagojevich has been his 'brother's keeper' since last August or at least the keeper of his brother's multi-million dollar campaign fund, a political fund that Robert Blagojevich's lawyer says is likely to be indicted before it's all over.
The I-Team found that one of the most puzzling questions about the governor's brother concerns someone else's campaign fund.
On election night 2002, when Rod Blagojevich watched the returns roll in and won his first term as Illinois governor, brother Robert was there with him. But at the same time, according to state election records, Robert's financial services firm had an interest in another Illinois elected official, Betty Loren Maltese.
Maltese is the controversial and now imprisoned mayor of Cicero.
For more than two years, Maltese' bulging campaign fund had invested millions of dollars through a company headquartered in Tampa, Florida, the firm Invest Financial Corporation. Its CEO at the time was Robert Blagojevich, the governor's older brother.
State records show that between July of 2000 and September of 2002, Robert Blagojevich's company paid Maltese' campaign fund nearly $3.3 million. The dozens of entries are listed as investment dividends, interest and proceeds from the sale of U.S. Treasury bills.
Some of the investment payments from Robert Blagojevich's company occurred even after Mayor Maltese was convicted of swindling $12 million from the town through an insurance firm.
Lawyer Michael Ettinger, who represents the governor's brother in the current federal investigation, was unaware of the link to Betty Loren Maltese.
On Wednesday at the I-Team's request, Ettinger had Robert Blagojevich review the state records and Blagojevich reported that "he knows nothing about it" and that the investments must have been made by some other affiliated bank even though his was listed 41 times.
Since taking over as chairman of his brother's campaign fund, Robert Blagojevich has been paid $12,500 a month.
The FBI listened to as many as 50 phone calls between Robert, his brother the governor and others. Many of the calls were from Nashville, Tennessee where Robert Blagojevich lives in a stately colonial. The former U.S. Army commander is a real estate developer there, and a key fundraiser and board member for the YMCA.
"Selfless person, doesn't want recognition. Actually would rather not have it," said Michael Check, Nashville YMCA. But when federal authorities charged the governor last month, his brother was "fundraiser a" in the criminal complaint. In one conversation the governor allegedly told his brother that he wanted to collect cash upfront for the appointment to Barack Obama's Senate seat.
It was just a few months earlier, in May, that Robert Blagojevich gave the commencement speech at his alma mater, University of Tampa.
Oddly, even though his brother the governor also attended University of Tampa, Robert did not once utter his brother's name during the speech.
As for the Betty Loren Maltese financial affair, there are Blagojevich family ties to the crooked mayor of Cicero.
Governor Blagojevich and ex-mayor Maltese have one friend in common: Eddie Vrdolyak, the former Chicago alderman and longtime village attorney in Cicero. Gov. Blagojevich's first job was as a clerk in Vrdolyak's law firm and it was a relationship that rekindled when Blagojevich was elected governor. Vyrdolyak himself is now headed to federal prison for a kickback scheme involving one of the governor's top appointees.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
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