Mob Star (32 page)

 

 

 

I
N THE SPRING OF 1983, Death Hill was occupied by the FBI. Agents had a bunker near the White House; after a four-month campaign, they had broken in surreptitiously. The Pope was bugged now, too, thanks to Angelo and the Reagan White House.

John Gotti had visited Castellano many times during the previous year, but he never turned up—in person, anyway—on the White House bug, probably because he suspected that Death Hill was a place to avoid. During one of his 1982 visits, he and John Carneglia had spotted agents and, afterward, Gotti and Angelo speculated that the agents were up to more than routine surveillance.

Though suspicion was everywhere and thunder was coming from all directions, the Angelo-bugs tension had slipped away as the months had passed by without an indictment. Angelo and Carneglia had come home, ready to try and ride out the storm if the truth was ever washed ashore. Neil was sick with heart trouble, and Gotti—as he had with Carmine Fatico a decade earlier—was picking up the slack, and underboss experience.

Castellano had no special fondness for Gotti—now, at last, the Bergin crew’s official boss. He did respect Gotti’s forcefulness and had used him, as Thomas Bilotti was heard describing it, “to lay down the law” to a union official who needed a lesson in the Family code. The Pope regarded himself as a businessman who regrettably associated with unsavory people out of loyalty to the past. He was happier sitting down with a man like Frank Perdue, whose company supplied chickens to the East Coast, and discussing how to improve Perdue’s business.

Sources Wahoo and BQ formed opinions in a Bergin context. Except for BQ—once in 1985—neither ever indicated that anyone besides Gotti was in line for the top spot. Neither was privy to the Castellano context, however, and thus they did not know two men were at the White House frequently: Thomas Gambino and Thomas Bilotti, who also regarded themselves as businessmen.

One day, Gambino—Carlo’s oldest son—brought Castellano a problem involving Gotti, Angelo, and Marty and Tommy of Mercury Pattern Service. The firm was still paying large-size “shirts” to Angelo, who, after a raise, was now on the payroll for $700 a week. As Uncle Paul told Nephew Tommy what to do, it sounded like a boss tutoring his intended successor.

Beforehand, they chatted about a remarkable book just out—
A Man of Honor,
an autobiography by Joseph Bonanno, one of the five original Crime Capital bosses, written long after he had retired and moved to Arizona. Bonanno, whose father was an old-world don in Sicily, said his noble “tradition” had been corrupted by a new-world worship of money; soldiers born in America were reckless and impatient. Bonanno also wrote about the Commission, which was something he, like Angelo, would live to regret.

Castellano regarded the book as “interesting reading” because he knew some of its characters; he said Bonanno had accurately described the landmark conference of Families at upstate Apalachin in 1957 and the no-drug rule adopted there. But he was shocked that Bonanno didn’t seem to realize the consequences of writing in such detail about the Commission.

“He don’t know what the government is looking for. The government is looking to make us be one tremendous conspiracy. And anybody that they know who [is] a member, they can lock him up on conspiracy … this guy’s explaining [the Commission]!”

Astute prophecy aside, the Pope listened as Gambino, a power in the garment district, explained the Mercury Pattern problem. The owners had borrowed $50,000 from Angelo—“backed by Gotti”—after Marty got out of prison in 1980. Earlier, they had borrowed from a Luchese Family shylock, who “forgave” the loan when “the Jew went to the can.” Now, however, the shylock had learned that Marty and Tommy were back in business and paying Angelo; he felt it was only right they start paying him again.

“So, it could get sticky, you know?” Gambino said.

Castellano asked if the Luchese soldier was beginning to really “push” for his money.

Gambino said he was, which meant that the shylock might use his Family’s union influence to incite an organizing movement at Mercury Pattern, which was paying the Gambino Family to keep a union out. In the garment trade, as with trucking, sanitation, and construction, the Families always worked it both ways.

“Ya gotta bring it to a head,” Gambino added, “because [the Mercury owners are] borrowing from Gotti.”

Castellano said the situation would have to be approached delicately because “you know, [we could be] opening up a can of worms and you want to make sure you don’t open it too much.” He didn’t want to stir the union pot, so he decreed that the Mercury Pattern owners take on the first shylock as a “partner” and take less out of the business. However, the Luchese man must understand that Mercury would have to keep paying Angelo and Gotti, too.

The competing loan sharks, Uncle Paul added, should be told: “You get some of yours; they get some of theirs.”

Castellano told Gambino to spread the word, and if the terms were not satisfactory, to be sure to tell the participants to “talk to Paul” before taking any action. “Get to Paul some way, anyway you can,” he told his nephew to say.

Just then, future underboss and murder victim Thomas Bilotti came into the dining room—just off the kitchen, where the bug was—and helped to demonstrate why Paul, despite his misgivings, went to sleep with the Gotti crew. It was more than its leader’s skill in intimidating balky union officials; it was the money the crew seemed to attract.

As the White House bug recorded the sound of rubber bands popping off bundles, Bilotti began counting cash—its history and purpose were not made clear.

“There’s only twenty-seven [thousand] there. So I got to pick up three more tomorrow morning. John gave us twelve because he’s dealing with it. Genie gave us ten and this is your four thousand.

“I better hold on to it,” Castellano said.

“You want me to do it, Paul?” asked Bilotti, a papal favorite, but not in the same way as Gambino, who was blood. “Here, I’ll do it.”

A different FBI-Strike Force team out of the Eastern District had installed the White House bug as part of a conspiracy case against the entire Gambino hierarchy—bosses and capos. In fact, all over the Crime Capital, similar teams were investigating each Family.

 

 

While carrying out his duties for Neil, John Gotti kept looking over his shoulder, expecting an indictment, according to Source Wahoo. His worry was shared by Michael Coiro, who knew the Angelo tapes were dynamite. “Mike is drinking a lot,” Wahoo said.

Angelo, however, was spending $40,000 on remodeling his home and saying “the bugs in his house were a bunch of bullshit and nothing is coming.” His confidence would later seem ridiculous, even to his confederates. In court one day, John Carneglia would toss off this line: Dial any seven numbers and there’s a fifty-fifty chance Angelo will answer the phone.

Early in 1983, Angelo was overheard on another bug, in a Brooklyn restaurant, where he was having lunch and spreading poison, by trashing Castellano and talking about murder.

“To me, he bad-mouths you,” Angelo told Gennaro Langella, acting boss of the Colombo Family. “He bad-mouths everybody … he bad-mouths his own Family.”

Langella, who thought Castellano had cheated his Family out of a $50,000 construction-industry payoff, said that he had predicted that “Neil and Johnny will die” in a Gambino war.

This was another opening for the Brutus in Angelo. He said he had spoken to Neil, who had sided with Langella on the payoff dispute and was angry at Castellano. He said Neil regretted ignoring the advice of Langella’s boss to kill Castellano back in 1976.

“It’s a fucking shame,” Angelo said.

“Most of [Castellano’s] guys got guns, and you know he ain’t going easy.” Langella replied.

“No. I know, and Neil knows it and Johnny knows it. If anything happens to Johnny and Neil, I’ll come see you. I don’t trust nobody else.”

“I don’t blame you. It’s not a nice way to live today.”

Langella was currently keeping the chair warm for Carmine Persico, the boss whose advice Neil didn’t take. An incident involving Carmine’s son soon showed how seriously some took advice on the no-drugs issue.

Alphonse Persico, age 29, was arrested on heroin-conspiracy charges along with Colombo soldier Anthony Augello. The Family felt Persico was dragged into the case by Augello, who was told to do the right thing. Augello, age 59, said good-bye to his family from a pay phone and then fatally shot himself in the head.

 

 

In August, the Angelo bugs finally came home to roost. Angelo, Gene Gotti, John Carneglia, and Mike Coiro were arrested pending return of an indictment. Five others—the Gurino brothers of Arc Plumbing, Edward Lino, Anthony Moscatiello, and Mark Reiter—were arrested, too. A day earlier, Reiter, once identified with Carneglia as a member of an auto-theft gang, also had been acquitted of heroin charges in a separate federal case in the Southern District.

Four other defendants could not be found. They included Salvatore Greco and William Cestaro, whose brother Philip would later plead guilty to helping hard-headed Edward Maloney buy drugs. Most of the group had direct links to the Bergin crew, whose boss, despite his worry, was not charged. Nothing on the tapes implicated him; Source BQ’s observations were not evidence.

Unknown to most until later, two more Bergin associates, the brothers Michael and Louis Roccoforte, who would plead guilty, were arrested in Manhattan that same day as they tried to sell about two kilos of cocaine to an undercover cop.

“John Gotti is on the carpet with Big Paul Castellano over the drug bust,” Agent Abbott wrote after Wahoo reported in, “as Paul feels John was either involved himself and if he was not, then he should have known his crew was involved and therefore he cannot control his crew.”

Source Wahoo, on the other hand, said Dellacroce “is backing up Angelo’s version of the drug bust as cleaning up his brother’s operation.” Even retiree Carmine Fatico was letting Angelo know he supported him; but the Pope was so angry that Wahoo said Carmine might be unretired “if Gotti cannot convince Big Paul he was not involved in the drug operation.”

Because the men were arrested on a sealed complaint, not many details were immediately available to either side.

A few days later, FBI agents picked up rumors that murder contracts had been let on the lives of Special Agents Edward Woods and Donald W. McCormick of the Gambino squad. The rumor ran contrary to Family practice, but had to be checked.

“We spoke to the appropriate people,” an agent recalled, “including Gotti, who apparently did not know about it. He was really annoyed.” Gotti, he added, said: “That’s just Angelo, shootin’ off his mouth, blowin’ off steam.”

Another appropriate contact, Wahoo, “advised that no personal recriminations will be made on any FBI agent as they would have to be approved by Big Paul and at this time Gotti and Ruggiero are lucky they have not been clipped themselves.”

 

 

The FBI had acted on the case as cautiously as possible for fear the targets might learn in advance of the impending arrests. A week before, Source BQ had stated “that most of the crew will disappear if they know there are [arrest] warrants [out] for them. Only Mike Coiro will not flee.”

Once arrested, defendants who secure bail with a deed to a house or cash are more likely to stay around for their trial. This is what happened with the main players, who were released after posting property. Angelo’s bail was the highest—$1 million. After making his $125,000 bail, Coiro told a judge: “You can rest assured, Your Honor, I’m a fighter and will be here.”

Soon after this, agents visited Coiro to test his state of mind: Would he want to deal? But Coiro stood on ceremony and did not go bad; he “went straight to John,” Source Wahoo said.

Amid all the turmoil, before the indictment, John and Victoria Gotti’s eldest daughter, Angela, was married. Among the guests was Wahoo, who told Agent Abbott: “When the indictments come out and Castellano [is] made aware of the particulars, then it is quite possible [those arrested] will be in serious trouble and Ruggiero may yet be killed.”

Weeks later, the indictment arrived. Angelo, Gene, and John Carneglia were hit hard: racketeering, conspiracy, obstruction of justice, and harboring a fugitive. As far as Family matters were concerned, Count 2 was the most serious: It stated that the three men were the “organizers, supervisors and managers” of a heroin ring.

Knowing the case was based on tapes, Castellano sent word he wanted copies of the transcripts as soon as prosecutors turned them over, as required, to Angelo’s lawyers.

Near the end of 1983, he got a taste of the trouble the tapes might cost his papacy; a grand jury at that time tried to force Little Pete Tambone to talk about Uncle Paul’s proposal to the Commission that Tambone be killed. Little Pete would hang tough—he went to court in his pajamas to support a Polisi-type gambit, and when that failed, he kept silent and went to jail for contempt—but, nonetheless, for Castellano the episode was a disturbing harbinger. Just a little while later, when he found out he had been bugged, the Pope knew the swallows had come back to Castellano.

The Pope pressed Angelo again for the transcripts of the tapes, but Angelo kept making up stories and excuses, which was good for Thomas Gambino and Thomas Bilotti, but bad for John Gotti.

 

 

That summer, before the Angelo, et al. indictment, a cash-heavy cocaine dealer anchored his yacht in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. Willie Boy Johnson figured the man was a perfect mark for James Cardinali. As with the bodega-owner hammering, John Gotti’s pal hid in the background. Since Willie Boy’s lecture that Jamesy should not indiscreetly litter streets with bodies, Jamesy had gone to Florida several times to rob drug dealers. He refrained from killing any, he later said.