Business or Blood (5 page)

The early 1960s was a time of mass migration out of Sicily's Agrigento province. In Montreal, Nicolò was soon reacquainted with members of the Cuntrera–Caruana clan, who were originally from Siculiana, just twenty-four kilometres from Cattolica Eraclea. The Cuntrera–Caruanas, who were also known to police as the Siculiana crime family, had existed for generations in Agrigento. They graduated from working as guards for a local land baron to being powers in the twentieth-century drug trade, with a firm grip over local politics. It was an accepted truth in their home region that people got hurt when things didn't go their way. Pasquale Cuntrera and his brother-in-law Leonardo Caruana were each acquitted in 1953 of double murder, cattle theft and arson before heading abroad. In the early 1960s, Pasquale Cuntrera, the head of the Siculiana Mafia family in Agrigento, moved to Caracas, Venezuela, as the family gained international scope. A key to their success in the illegal drug trade was their flexibility: they worked with anyone who could help them but steadfastly refused to align themselves exclusively to any of Sicily's feuding Mafia families. As they gained power and connections, the Cuntrera–Caruana men developed their own look. They differed from old-school fedora-wearing mobsters and staid, buttoned-down, pinstriped international financiers. Instead,
they tended to resemble mildly successful Florida used-car dealers, with an affinity for white shoes, eye-popping gold watches and poorly dyed jet-black hair.

On September 11, 1964, Nicolò's father-in-law, Antonino Manno, immigrated to Canada as well. Like several of the Cuntrera–Caruanas, Don Nino had been forced to serve a period of court-imposed internal exile in Italy. The sentence was called a
soggiorno obbligato
, and for its duration a mobster was banished from living near his hometown or criminal associates. Such a record might have been an impediment if Canadian authorities had been more vigilant.

In 1967, Canada was marking the one hundredth anniversary of its arrival as a nation with year-long Centennial festivities. There was plenty for Nicolò Rizzuto to celebrate in his new home. He was now a partner in four construction-related firms and had secured construction work on the Expo 67 world's fair in Montreal. His mob counterparts Paolo Violi and Vic (The Egg) Cotroni were also involved in the Expo fun, supplying the international showcase with hot dogs made from tainted meat. Opportunity found Nicolò's son, Vito, as well. After he had dropped out of high school, there was work running the New Cheetah nightclub at the corner of Beaubien Street and Saint-Laurent Boulevard.

Nicolò Rizzuto was sponsoring many Agrigento residents to move to his new city, expanding the Cuntrera–Caruanas' Canadian base, and expanding the clan's financial base too, bringing heroin to Montreal by boat and then transporting it to New York by car. For three months in late 1969, they hosted Tommaso Buscetta, the hound-faced senior member of the Porta Nuova Mafia family in Palermo, Sicily. Buscetta would become a key figure in the history of the Sicilian Mafia, as the network's first major informer. At the time of his arrival in Montreal, his mob credentials were still intact and impressive, as he had helped set up the Sicilian Mafia Commission, which ruled upon disputes between members. His acquaintances included top-level New York mob figures Charles (Lucky) Luciano and Joe Bonanno.

Buscetta's Montreal visit was at least his second trip to Canada. He had been in Toronto in the fall of 1964, travelling under the name Manuel Lopez Cadena and trying to gain a visa under this false identity to
enter the United States. While in Toronto, Buscetta stayed at the home of Antonino (Nino) Cammalleri, the uncle of Vito Rizzuto's future wife. Decades later, Buscetta would remember playing cards at the Il Gatto Nero café.

When Buscetta returned to Canada in 1969, staying in Montreal from October until just after Christmas, he did so for medical reasons. He sought treatment for a genital infection, long rumoured to be a venereal disease. He feared he actually had cancer, although he would later claim to have learned he suffered from an African fly bite.

Twenty-three-year-old Alfonso Caruana chauffeured Buscetta around Montreal during those three months, as the visitor met with Nicolò Rizzuto, Pasquale Cuntrera and other local Mafiosi. Buscetta picked up on tensions between Paolo Violi and Nicolò. Violi struck Buscetta as a jealous man. Relationships were complex and sometimes crossed ethnic lines. He noted, for instance, that the Calabrian Violi was a close associate of the Sicilian Leonardo Caruana (in 1981, Caruana would be deported from Canada and murdered in front of his Palermo home, on the day of his son's wedding, in a gesture of operatic cruelty), and although Nicolò wasn't a member of the Siculiana crime family, he did work closely with them.

Despite his standing in the Sicilian Mafia, Buscetta—in the guise of Manuel Lopez Cadena—remained under the radar of Canadian police until long after his departure from Montreal. He later recalled an odd incident that occurred toward the end of that visit. He was standing outside his Montreal motel when police moved in and blocked his exit. He must have feared that his cover had been blown. Then police began grilling him about a bank robbery. Unbeknownst to Buscetta, he had been standing near a bank-robbery team's getaway car, and police mistakenly thought he was part of the gang. Once they were convinced he was innocent of that crime, he was freed to go and made his way to Pasquale Cuntrera's home for Christmas dinner.

A few days after Christmas, Buscetta left Montreal. He was reunited with his friend Nicolò in Caracas in 1972. Buscetta was in South America on his honeymoon with what was believed to be his third wife. Nicolò told Buscetta that he had left Montreal for a far less
happy reason. He had been “called for an appointment” of the Montreal
décina
, a branch of the Bonanno crime family, headed by Vic Cotroni and Paolo Violi. Nicolò was certain he knew the agenda for the meeting: he was to be murdered.

T
he murder of Nick Jr. got people talking again about Nicolò's private war two generations earlier with Paolo Violi. Nicolò and Violi had been rivals in the old
décina
of Vic (The Egg) Cotroni, back when Vic the Egg was the Canadian branch plant manager for the Bonanno family of New York. Nicolò could barely stomach being under Vic Cotroni in the Montreal mob pecking order, and when Cotroni promoted his fellow Calabrian Violi above Rizzuto, Nicolò responded with a haughty grandeur. The prospect of being under two Calabrians was too much to countenance. He didn't just disobey Violi; he refused even to acknowledge his existence. Tensions were so high between Paolo Violi and Nicolò that Giuseppe Settecasi, head of the Agrigento crime family, travelled to Montreal in 1972 to mediate, with no success.

Later that year, when Violi could stand Nicolò's insolence no longer, he asked the Bonannos for permission to kill him. The Bonannos initially balked, then relented. Wise to the conversation happening behind his back, Nicolò slipped away to Venezuela, where he could bide his time and extend his contacts.

Like many bitter enemies, Nicolò and Violi had much in common. Violi had also married into power. His father-in-law was Giacomo (Jack) Luppino of Hamilton, an 'Ndrangheta boss and lieutenant of Stefano (The Undertaker) Magaddino of Buffalo. Luppino was said to
carry the leathery ear of a rival in his wallet, like a treasure that could never be deposited in a bank. In November 1967, police listened in on Luppino through microphones hidden among his tomato plants and elsewhere around his red brick house on Ottawa Street North in east end Hamilton. They heard him explain how horrible things should be done to a man who was disloyal to his wife. Paolo Violi shared his father-in-law's rigid sense of morality. That kind of talk was never heard from Vito or his father when police listened in on their conversations, even though Nicolò was of a similar if less punishing mind about marital infidelity.

Police also overheard Luppino talking about a wedding in New York at which he'd crossed paths with his boss, Stefano Magaddino. The highlight of Luppino's evening came when Magaddino deigned to spend twenty minutes with him.

Magaddino was in an angry mood that evening. He complained that he had also invited Paolo Violi and Vic Cotroni to the wedding, but neither of them showed up. Violi had a credible excuse, as he explained that he was always under police surveillance and he didn't want to bring that heat to New York. That was a permissible, even courteous response. But Cotroni? Vic the Egg had said only that he was too busy, as he had matters before the court. Such insolence rendered Magaddino livid, or, in the words of Luppino, he “turned mad like a beast.”

Magaddino said Violi and Cotroni had a choice: they could side with his cousin Giuseppe (Joe) Bonanno of New York City or with himself. They couldn't be loyal to both. Bonanno and Magaddino might be related, but they couldn't stand each other. Magaddino's anger peaked as he told Luppino about a November 1966 meeting in Montreal between Bonanno's son Salvatore (Bill) and Cotroni. Cotroni didn't bother to tell Magaddino before attending the meeting, which also included half a dozen men from the New York Mafia. Magaddino heard that Bill Bonanno told Cotroni at the meeting that Montreal belonged to his father, Joe Bonanno. Vic the Egg's response? He just sheepishly listened to Bonanno's arrogance.

It was bad enough that Bonanno would say something so stupid, but for Cotroni to say nothing in Magaddino's defence was unacceptable.
How could Magaddino remain calm when he heard of such a slur? And why hadn't Cotroni told him beforehand about the meeting? Had Bonanno and the visiting New Yorkers not been arrested shortly afterwards, Magaddino could have started a small war over the slight. In Don Stefano's eyes, Montreal was his territory and Cotroni commited nothing less than an act of treason by meeting with the Americans there without his permission. How he came to the conclusion that Quebec was his turf was anyone's guess, but he considered this to be an absolute truth. And in his mind, he must know anything of significance that happened there. As Luppino recalled his words: “I don't care what others do, all I want to know is what is done in my house.”

To rectify the damage Cotroni had done, Magaddino wanted Luppino to move to Montreal to assert control on the Buffalo boss's behalf. However, Luppino preferred life in Hamilton, amidst his tomato plants. Ambitious people had a way of getting shot in Montreal, and Luppino had a good life in the Ontario steel town, with his family, his respect and his tomatoes. As Luppino put his refusal, “Stefano Magaddino is the biggest man in the world, but not even he can lead me by the arm and tell me what to do.”

Nicolò realized that his rival Paolo Violi had connections to more than just Luppino and Magaddino. Violi's reach also stretched back to the emerging 'Ndrangheta in his native Calabria, including the heroin and cocaine trafficker Saverio (The Playboy) Mammoliti of Castellace di Oppido Mamertina in the province of Reggio Calabria, the 'Ndrangheta heartland. Mammoliti was best known for his role in the 1973 kidnapping of sixteen-year-old John Paul Getty III, bohemian grandson of oil tycoon Jean Paul Getty, the world's richest man. Even the mobsters must have been startled by the coldness of Getty Sr.'s initial response, when he refused to cough up a cent: “If I pay one penny now, I'll have fourteen kidnapped grandchildren.” Eventually, the old man grudgingly agreed to a payment. Some of the estimated $2.2 million in ransom money, paid after the youth's ear was hacked off, was tracked down by police in an investigation that led them to Montreal streets.

Paolo Violi cultivated the image of an old-school boss, the kind of
mobster who stayed out of the nasty emerging business of drugs. Word on the street suggested he was actually elbow deep in it. When two American undercover drug agents of Italian descent told Mammoliti in 1973 they wanted to make a major drug deal, they were instructed that if they wanted heroin, they needed to get in touch with “his friend Paolo Violi” in Canada.

After Nicolò moved to Venezuela at the end of 1972 (alternately reported as early 1973), he settled into the drug trafficking business with the Cuntrera–Caruanas. His old associates had worked their way into the country's economic and political life, to the point that American Drug Enforcement Administration intelligence noted that president Carlos Andrés Pérez attended the wedding of a Cuntrera–Caruana clan member.

It wasn't the product but the profit that mattered, and they also smuggled powdered milk into Venezuela. Importing powdered milk was illegal and profitable, and they seized the opportunity to make extra money. Tommaso Buscetta also spent much time with Nicolò in Venezuela throughout the 1970s. Police believed the pair were involved together in a business called Brasil Italian Import, which was a front for narcotics trafficking.

Perhaps Nicolò's most lucrative business at the time was a cattle breeding ranch called Granaderia Rio Zapa in the Venezuelan state of Barinas, near the Colombian border. His partners there included Salvatore (Cicchiteddu) Greco, head of the Commission of the Sicilian Cosa Nostra and a close associate of senior members of the Gambino crime family of New York City. Conveniently—especially for a cattle ranch—Granaderia Rio Zapa had its own private airstrip.

It was in Caracas, Venezuela, in 1977 that Gennaro Scaletta of Montreal first met with the Rizzuto clan: Nicolò, Libertina, Maria, Vito and Giovanna and their children Nick Jr., Libertina (Bettina) and Leonardo, who looked remarkably like a young Vito. There was also Vito's brother-in-law/cousin Paolo Renda, who was also Nick Jr.'s godfather. It seemed to Scaletta that everyone in this one bar was from
Italy. Soon, he was associating with transplanted Mafia clans from all over Italy without leaving Caracas.

Scaletta said that Nicolò kept his family in Venezuela for six months and a day at a time, which he thought was just long enough to exclude him from having to pay taxes to Canada for the money he earned outside the country. In South America, Scaletta learned quickly that power and influence in the Rizzuto family wasn't always in the hands of the obvious person.