The Anderson Tapes (19 page)

ANDERSON: Sure, Mr. Angelo. This is okay.

ANGELO: But I brought out some of this cognac you like and a couple of glasses. We might as well be comfortable. Here you are… .

ANDERSON: Thanks.

ANGELO: Success.

ANDERSON: Luck.

[Lapse of four seconds.]

ANGELO: Beautiful. Jesus, that’s like music on the tongue. Duke, I heard you leaned on our boy the other day.

ANDERSON: Parelli? Yes, I leaned on him. He tell you?

ANGELO: He told D’Medico. The Doc told me. What are you doing—

setting him up?

ANDERSON: Something like that.

ANGELO: You figured he’s got a short fuse as it is—and not too much brains—so you’ll psych him. Now he’s so sore at you he’s not even using the little brains he’s got. So you’re that much more on top of him.

ANDERSON: I guess that’s it.

[Lapse of seven seconds.]

ANGELO: Or was it you wanted to hate his guts so it would be easier to spoil him?

ANDERSON: What difference does it make?

ANGELO: None, Duke. None at all. I’m just running off at the mouth.

You had your first meet yesterday?

ANDERSON: That’s right.

ANGELO: How did it go?

ANDERSON: It went fine.

ANGELO: Any weak spots?

ANDERSON: The faggot, Tommy Haskins, has never done a hard job before. He’s been on the con or hustling his ass or pulling paper hypes. But his job is easy. I’ll keep an eye on him. Johnson—he’s the dinge—and the two Brodsky boys are true blue. Hard. The tech, Ernest Mann, is so money hungry he’ll do what I tell him. If he’s caught, he’ll spill, of course. All they’ll have to do is threaten to take his cigarettes away.

ANGELO: But he’s not going to be caught … is he?

ANDERSON: No. Parelli is stupid and vicious and kill-crazy. A bad combination.

ANGELO: You’ll have to play that guy by ear. I told you … don’t turn your back.

ANDERSON: I don’t figure to. I gave my boys their advances.

ANGELO: Do they know what everyone is getting?

ANDERSON: No. I gave them sealed envelopes separately. I told each guy he was getting more than the others and to keep his mouth shut.

ANGELO: Good.

ANDERSON: Did you ask about the diversions?

ANGELO: Papa says forget it. Keep it as simple as possible. He says it’s tricky enough as it is.

ANDERSON: He’s right. I’m glad about that. Can you tell me about the truck now?

ANGELO: Not now. When we meet on Thursday.

ANDERSON: All right. The Brodsky boys will pick it up wherever you say. It’ll be in New York, won’t it?

ANGELO: Yes. In Manhattan.

ANDERSON: Fine. Then we can figure out our final timing. What about the drop?

ANGELO: I’ll give you that on Thursday, too. How many men will make the drop?

ANDERSON: I was figuring on me and the Brodsky boys.

ANGELO: All right. Now let’s see … what else did I want to ask… .

Oh, yes … do you need a piece?

ANDERSON: I can get one. I don’t know how good it will be.

ANGELO: Let me get you a good one. Right off the docks. When your boys pick up the truck, it’ll be in the glove compartment or taped under the dash. Loaded. How does that sound?

ANDERSON: That sounds all right.

ANGELO: A .38 okay?

ANDERSON: Yes.

ANGELO: I’ll see it’s taken care of. Now let’s see … oh, yes, the masks. You got all that fixed? Gloves … shit like that?

ANDERSON: It’s all arranged, Mr. Angelo.

ANGELO: Good. Well, I can’t think of anything else. I’ll see you on Thursday, then. Your second meet is on Wednesday and your last on Friday?

ANDERSON: Yes.

ANGELO: How do you feel?

ANDERSON: I feel great. I’m hot with this thing but I got no doubts.

ANGELO: Duke … remember one thing. This is like war. Your reconnaissance and intelligence and operations plan can be the best in the world. But things go wrong. Unexpected things come up. Somebody screams. A rabbit becomes a lion. The fuzz drops by unexpected because one of them has to take a pee.

Sometimes crazy things happen—things you never counted on.

You know?

ANDERSON: Yes.

ANGELO: So you’ve got to stay loose in there. You got a good plan, but be ready to improvise, to deal with these unexpected things as they come up. Don’t get spooked when something happens you didn’t figure on.

ANDERSON: I won’t get spooked.

ANGELO: I know you won’t. You’re a pro, Duke. That’s why we’re going along with you on this. We trust you.

ANDERSON: Thanks.

Dictated, signed, sworn, and witnessed statement by Timothy O’Leary, 648 Halverston Drive, Roslyn, New York. This is transcription NYPDSIS-#146-11, dated 7 September, 1968.

“On the night of thirty-one August of this year—that is, the night it was between the last day of August and the first of September, with Labor Day to come, it was that weekend—I come on duty at 535 East Seventy-third Street where I am doorman from midnight until eight in the morning.

“Being my usual custom, I arrived on the premises about ten minutes early, stopped to exchange the time of night with Ed Bakely, the lad I was relieving, and then I went down into the basement. There we have three lockers in the hallway that leads from the super’s apartment to the back basement rooms where are the boilers and such. I changed to my uniform which, in the summer, is merely a tan cotton jacket, and as I was wearing black pants, white shirt, and a black bow tie, the time was nothing.

“I come back upstairs and Ed goes down, to change back. Whilst he was gone, I took a look at the board where it is we keep messages and such. I saw that Dr. Rubicoff, he’s One B, was in his office and working late. And also there would be two friends of Eric Sabine, he’s Two A, staying in his apartment for the Labor Day weekend. Ed, then, came up—he was carrying his bowling ball in a little bag—and said he was off to his alley, and would be able to get in a few games with his mates before the alleys closed.

“No sooner was he gone, with me out on the street taking a breath of air, when a truck come slowly down the street—yes, from East End Avenue since that is how the street runs. Much to my surprise it made a slow turn and pulled into our service entrance, going all the way to the back where it stopped, and turned off motor and lights. As it went past me I saw it was a moving van of some kind—I remember seeing the word ‘moving’ painted on the side and surmised it either had the wrong address or perhaps some of my tenants was moving or was expecting a furniture delivery of some kind which struck me as strange considering the time of night it was and also, you understand, we would have it on the board if some tenant was expecting a night delivery.

“So I strolled back to where the truck was now parked and dark, and I says, ‘And what the hell do you think you are doing in my driveway?’

“No sooner was these words out of my mouth when I felt something on the back of my neck. Cool it was, metal and round. It could have been a piece of pipe, I suppose, but I surmised it was a gun. I was twenty years on the Force, and I am no stranger to guns.

“At the same time I felt the muzzle on my neck—a crawly feeling it was—the man holding the gun says, very cool, ‘Do you want to die?’

“‘No,’ I tells him, ‘I do not want to die.’ I was calm, you understand, but I was honest.

“‘Then you will do just what I tell you,’ he says, ‘and you will not die.’

“With that he walks me back to the service door, kind of prodding me with the muzzle of the gun, if that’s what it was, and I think it was, but not hurting me, you understand. All this time the truck was dark and quiet and I saw no other men. In fact, up to this time I had actually seen no one. Just felt the gun and heard the voice.

“He had me stand pressed face-up against the wall by the service door, the muzzle of the gun still in the middle of my neck. ‘Not a sound from you,’ he says.

“‘Not a sound you’ll get,’ I whispers to him.

“‘All right,’ he calls, and I hear the doors of the truck opening. Two doors open. In a minute I hear a rattle of chain and the sound of a tailgate flopping down. I saw nothing, nothing at all. I stared at the wall and said ‘Hail, Marys.’ I had the feeling others were standing about, but I turned my head neither to the right nor to the left. I heard footsteps walking away. All was quiet. No one spoke. In a moment I heard the buzzer and knew that someone inside the lobby was pressing the button that released the lock on the service door.

“I was prodded forward into the service entrance, the gun still at my neck, and told to lay on the concrete floor, which I did although I was sorry for soiling my uniform jacket and my trousers which my wife Grace had pressed that very afternoon. I was told to cross my ankles and cross my wrists behind me. I did all this, just as I was told, but at this time I switched to ‘Our Father, Who art in Heavens… .’

“They used what I guess was a wide strip of adhesive tape. I could hear that sound of sticking as it came off the reel. They taped my ankles and my wrists, and then a strip was put across my mouth.

“At this time, the man—I think he was the man with the gun—he says to me, ‘Can you breathe okay? If you can breathe okay, nod your head.’

“So I nodded my head and blessed him for his consideration.”
Chapter 53

The following is from a dictated, sworn, signed, and witnessed statement by Ernest Heinrich Mann. This is Segment NYDA-EHM-105A.

MANN: So … now we are at the night of August thirty-first and the morning hours of September first. The truck picked me up at the appointed place and I… .

QUESTION: Pardon me a moment. I believe you told us previously that the truck was to pick you up on the southeast corner of Lexington Avenue and Sixty-fifth Street. Is that correct?

MANN: Yes. Correct.

QUESTION: And that was, in fact, where you joined the others?

MANN: Yes.

QUESTION: What time was this?

MANN: It was eleven forty P.M. This was the time agreed upon. I was on time and so also was the truck.

QUESTION: Will you describe this truck for us.

MANN: It was, I would say, a medium-sized moving van. In addition to the doors to the cab, there were two large rear doors fastened with a chained tailgate, as well as a door in the middle of each side. It was by one of these doors that I entered the truck, the men inside assisting me to climb up.

QUESTION: How many men were in the truck at this time?

MANN: Everyone was there—everyone I have described to you who was at the planning meetings. The man I know as Anderson and the two men I know as Ed and Billy were in the cab. Ed was driving. The others were in the body of the truck.

QUESTION: What was painted on the side of the truck? Did you notice any words or markings?

MANN: I saw only the word “Moving.” There were also several markings that appeared to be license numbers and maximum load weights—things of that sort.

QUESTION: After you boarded the truck, what happened?

MANN: The truck began to move. I assumed we were heading for the apartment house.

QUESTION: Were you standing inside the truck or were you seated?

MANN: We were seated, but not on the floor. A rough wooden bench had been provided on one side of the truck. We sat on that. Also, there was a light inside the truck body.

QUESTION: What happened then?

MANN: The man I know as John Anderson opened the sliding wooden panel between the cab and the body of the truck. He told us to put on our masks and gloves.

QUESTION: These had been provided for you?

MANN: Yes. There was a set for each of us, plus two extra sets in case of accident … in case the stocking masks might perhaps tear while we were putting them on.

QUESTION: And you all put them on?

MANN: Yes.

QUESTION: The men in the cab, too?

MANN: That I do not know. Anderson closed the sliding panel. I could not see what was happening up there.

QUESTION: Then what?

MANN: We drove. Then we stopped. I heard the cab door open and slam. I assumed that was Anderson getting out. As I told you, the plan required him to be waiting across the street from the apartment house when the truck arrived.

QUESTION: And then?

MANN: The truck drove on. We went around a few blocks to give Anderson time to get into position.

QUESTION: What time was this?

MANN: It was perhaps ten minutes after midnight, give or take a minute either way. Everything was precisely timed. It was an admirable plan.

QUESTION: Then what?

MANN: The truck picked up a little speed. We were all quiet. We made a very sharp turn, up a small rise. I knew we were then pulling into the driveway of the apartment house. The truck engine was switched off and the lights also.

QUESTION: Including the light in the body of the truck, where you were?

MANN: Yes. There were no lights whatsoever. In addition, we did not speak. This had been made very clear. We made no noise whatsoever.

QUESTION: Then what happened?

MANN: I heard voices outside the truck, but so low that I could not hear what was being said. Then, in a minute or two, Anderson called, “All right.” At this time the side door of the truck was opened, and we all got out. Also Ed and Billy from the cab. I was assisted to descend from the truck by the man I know as Skeets, the Negro. He was very polite and helpful.

QUESTION: Go on.

MANN: The one named Tommy, the slight, boyish one, went immediately around to the front of the building. I watched him. He paused a moment to make certain there was no one on the street, no one observing—he was wearing mask and gloves, you understand—and then he slipped around to the front entrance. In a moment the release button sounded on the outside service door, and the man I know as Socks—the uncouth man I described to you before—entered first, his hand in his jacket pocket. I believe he was carrying a weapon. He went directly down to the basement. I waited until Anderson had bound and gagged the doorman, then I followed Socks down into the basement, as we had planned. Every move had been planned.

QUESTION: What was the purpose of your waiting until the doorman was tied up before following Socks down to the basement?