Read The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano: The Mafia Story in His Own Words Online
Authors: Martin A. Gosch,Richard Hammer
Tags: #Biographies & Memoirs, #Leaders & Notable People, #Rich & Famous, #True Crime, #Organized Crime
“I didn’t feel too happy about what Meyer said. His taste in women was nothin’ to write books about; I always thought he didn’t know a pig from a filly and if he was the one pickin’ the dames, then I was sure my worst enemy wouldn’t wanna screw ’em in the dark. Frank and Meyer could tell what I was thinkin’ and they laughed like hell. Finally Frank explained that they had given the assignment to Joe A., on account of he was in charge of the Copacabana, where they had the most beautiful broads in the world. So I figured if Joe couldn’t make an A-number-one selection, then I’d have to depend on Meyer to get me a pinochle partner. Actually, it turned out that they was three really beautiful and swell girls and I was worried for nothin’.”
What was also arranged that day was the division of Luciano’s interests, the supervision of them in his name and behalf while he was gone. Costello was assigned all the American gambling, except for that in Miami and Havana and the new casinos being planned for the Bahamas, which would fall under Lansky’s regency. Lucchese, Torrio, Scalise, Adonis and several others handled other business in which Luciano had an interest. “One thing, though, bothered the hell outa me, and it festered for a long time after I got to Italy. I was bein’ cut out of almost all the legit business that my
‘good friends’ was goin’ into durin’ and after the war. That’s why I didn’t talk about the next part of my plan to nobody but Lansky. I needed him in order to set it up, and it would be a sort of test to see whether he was still on my side.
“The last day on Ellis Island, Lansky and me had a meet, just the two of us. I told him somethin’ that none of the other guys knew up to that point — that I had already made connections in Italy to get visas under my real name, Salvatore Lucanía, that would be good for Cuba and Mexico and a whole lotta countries in South America. I told Meyer I figured it would take me about six months of layin’ low, gettin’ adjusted in Italy, and makin’ personal contacts instead of havin’ guys front for me. I said that if there was gonna be any problem for me to get back into the United States, I’d even be willin’ to become a Cuban citizen, and then take back control from there. I also told Lansky that I wanted him to make a meet for some time around the end of 1946 that would be attended by every top guy — I mean the head of every family and all the people on the Unione council. I said I’d try to arrange things so that the meet could take place in Havana around Christmas. At that time it would be easier for a lotta guys to make the trip, like it was sort of a holiday vacation and it wouldn’t draw no spotlight.
“Of course, I had another reason for pickin’ Havana. The war bein’ over, people was beginnin’ to flock there, what with the place bein’ wide open, the gamblin’ good and the broads beautiful. With a combination like that, Lansky and his friend Batista was rakin’ the dough in and I had no intention of bein’ left out of that. Batista wasn’t president no more, but he had his own guy in there, a doctor named Ramón Grau San Martín; Lansky and Batista had him strictly in their pockets.
“By lettin’ Lansky know all the details of my plan for Havana, that was really a test of his loyalty. It meant I was gonna be able to cut the four thousand miles Dewey was puttin’ between me and New York to just ninety miles between Miami and me in Havana. Lansky knew I was countin’ on his muscle with Batista to work out all the things I wanted to do.”
There was one more detail for Luciano to arrange in his meetings on Ellis Island with underworld allies. That was the matter
of Vito Genovese, still in jail awaiting the official dismissal of the Boccia murder charges. Luciano summoned Costello, Adonis, Lucchese and Anastasia. “Naturally, I was pretty upset. Here I was, bein’ thrown out of the States for somethin’ I didn’t do, while at the same time I had been helpin’ that little bastard get free to walk around the streets of New York without no problems. So I reminded Tommy and Albert of somethin’ they knew about and that I didn’t want ’em to forget, which happened in 1943.
“When the war was still goin’ pretty good for Mussolini, Vito was always tryin’ to prove what a good friend he was to that Fascist son of a bitch. There was a newspaper publisher in New York by the name of Carlo Tresca. He was strictly anti-Mussolini and he was knockin’ the shit out of him in every edition of his paper, which was called
Il Martello
[
The Hammer
]. It drove Mussolini nuts. So what does that prick Genovese do? He tells Mussolini not to worry about it, that he, Don Vitone, would take care of it. And, goddammit if Vito don’t put out a contract from Italy on Tresca, with Tony Bender to do the job. Tresca gets knocked off in broad daylight as he’s gettin’ outa his car on lower Fifth Avenue; it was an old-fashioned hit with a shotgun in the back. When I heard about it up at Great Meadow, I made up my mind that someday I was gonna have a little talk with either or both of them guys — Vito and Bender. They knew the Unione rule that nobody on the outside gets hit under no circumstances without a vote of the council.
“I had a feelin’ in my bones that someday Vito was gonna be bad news for everybody. So I told the guys I had somethin’ special in mind for the little bastard and I warned all of ’em that I’d hold ’em responsible to see that Genovese kept his nose clean. When he got out of the can, he was to go back to work like before on all my things, and the minute he got out of line, I wanted to hear from somebody about it without no delay.” (Genovese was released from detention in July 1946, when the Brooklyn district attorney’s office reluctantly admitted in court that its case against him had collapsed.)
All the necessary business for Luciano before his departure was conducted on Ellis Island. On the boat there would be only festivities. There his underworld friends would take leave of him. With
his family, though, the farewells were reserved for the final hours on Ellis Island. “My mother and father was gone by then and not able to see me set free. I didn’t wanna do nothin’ to make my brothers and sisters uncomfortable or bring bad publicity on ’em, so that’s why I wouldn’t let ’em come to that madhouse on the boat. It wasn’t easy to say goodbye to ’em, because they was my family and I loved ’em. Besides, with Sicilians, no matter what you do with your own personal life, it don’t never change the feelin’ you have in your guts where your family is concerned. We all said goodbye and everybody cried, even me. I wanted to tell ’em not to worry, to tell ’em about my plans for comin’ back home, because I knew that would make ’em feel better. But until that was worked out, it was best they didn’t have no idea of it.”
By the time Luciano boarded the
Laura Keene
on the morning of February 9, everything was ready for him. His new wardrobe had been delivered to his cabin; the three girls selected by Joe Adonis, with the assistance of his former girl friend, Virginia Hill (now the mistress of Bugsy Siegel), were in adjoining cabins; hampers of delicatessen foods, turkeys, roast beefs, pastas and other Italian delicacies, magnums of the finest French champagne, wines and the best liquors were spread out on tables. Luciano’s closest friends, of course, were there — Lansky, Costello, Bugsy Siegel from California, Willie Moretti, Longie Zwillman, Tommy Lucchese, Joe Adonis, Joe Bonanno, Albert Anastasia, Steve Magaddino from Buffalo, and the rest. With Anastasia came a newly prosperous Carlo Gambino, whose fortunes had waxed in the black market in food and gasoline ration stamps, and who had become an important underboss in Brooklyn.
There was hardly an important underworld leader in the country absent from the
Laura Keene
. For some, it was a time for reunion after years apart. Phil Kastel embraced Owney Madden, and Moe Dalitz from Cleveland smiled broadly at the sight of the boys from Philadelphia.
But the underworld was not the only world to send its representatives. “We had some of the country’s top political leaders there, too, and a few who couldn’t come at least sent a representative. I helped elect over eighty important politicians in my time, so the
least they could do was to drink a glass of champagne and wish me a good sailin’. Anastasia’s boys kept the newspaper guys far enough away so that none of ’em could get any good pictures, which was my way of doin’ them a good turn for showin’ up.”
The party was a gay one, for there seemed little doubt in anyone’s mind that there was nothing permanent in this voyage; Luciano was just going to take a short vacation and soon he would be back in New York where he belonged.
Then, abruptly, the farewells were over and the
Laura Keene
was on her way. “I felt like all of a sudden I was alone. Well, I don’t mean exactly alone, because there was these three beautiful girls who was half crocked down below somewhere, havin’ their own party, and there was about fifteen other deportees on board — I only knew a couple of ’em. But I really felt like I was in the middle of nowhere. I began to get this real sour feeling in my stomach, and when the pilot horn started to blow, the sound of it seemed to fill the inside of my belly. The only other time in my whole life that I had this kind of experience was when the gates closed behind me up at Dannemora.
“It was real cold the day we sailed and I stood up there on deck, watchin’ the skyscrapers of Manhattan goin’ by. I looked at the Statue of Liberty and I made myself only think of one thing — that I was takin’ a vacation trip and pretty soon that Lady would be sayin’ hello instead of goodbye. Then I realized that I wasn’t alone. Two guys was leanin’ on the rail, watchin’ me. One guy was from the U.S. Immigration Department, to make sure I didn’t jump off the boat until we was in the middle of the Atlantic. I didn’t find out who the other guy was until about a half an hour later.
“The
Laura Keene
suddenly stopped movin’ because a fireboat pulled up alongside. I see some guy in a fancy overcoat with a velvet collar scramble up the boardin’ ladder. It was the honorable mayor himself, Bill O’Dwyer. He grabbed me around the shoulder and the other fellow, who didn’t give his name, starts walkin’ ahead of us and we followed him to my cabin.
“O’Dwyer said to me, ‘Charlie, this is Murray Weinstein, one of my personal men. He’s on Captain Bals’s staff downtown, and he’ll see that nobody bothers you. I made a personal guarantee that
you wouldn’t pull anything, so the Immigration man is getting off with me. Please don’t let me down, Charlie.’
“I said, ‘Don’t worry about nothin’, Bill. I want you to know I appreciate the fact you come out to do this personally.’ He said, ‘Charlie, I owe you everything I have, along with lots of apologies we don’t have to talk about any more. You know I couldn’t go to Bush Terminal, but I couldn’t let you leave without personally shaking your hand and wishing you well.’ I almost blubbered; I wished there was some way to answer him, but I just couldn’t get the words out. He gimme a whack on the back and said, ‘
Arrivederci
,’ and I started to laugh at the way he said it with his half-assed Irish brogue.
“That was the last goodbye inside the three-mile limit, and the next thing I knew, I was surrounded by nothin’ but water. The skyline was gone and the only thing you could see from any part of the ship was a big ocean. I guess that’s when I really knew I was on my way back to Italy, and I didn’t like it one bit.”
“The
Laura Keene
wasn’t exactly the
Queen Mary
. One little wave, and we was ready to launch the lifeboats. Personally, I’m not a very good sailor. I remember when we used to go deep-sea fishin’ off Miami, I was always the first guy to hit the rail. So, the first night out, I was green from my head to my toes. All I wanted to do was lay on my bunk and groan.
“But, in the morning the sun was out and we was sailin’ on a sea that was as smooth as glass. When I woke up and seen the sunshine comin’ through the porthole, it was like a real shot in the arm. I took a quick shower, and then I stood in the middle of my cabin, surrounded by four wardrobe trunks full of clothes. That’s when I realized that I was scared shitless; there was three gorgeous girls waitin’ for Charlie Lucky to throw one of ’em a nod. I was so
nervous, that all I could think of was that time I went to Jenny’s place to get the clap — the time I couldn’t get it up. So, I’m standin’ there, stallin’ with myself, and wonderin’ what to do. Then I got the idea that I should open up the trunks, the biggest one first, that had all the new stuff from Cye’s that Costello and Adonis picked out for me. And the others that my brother Bart had been holdin’ for me in storage was next. I spent the next three hours tryin’ on every single suit, and pants, and shirts, and underwear in all them four fuckin’ trunks.
“Finally, there’s a knock on the door, and in comes this guy Murray Weinstein. When he gets a look at what must’ve seemed like five hundred garments spread out all over the floor, and the bunk, and the chairs, he busts out laughin’; he says, ‘Charlie, what the hell are you doin’?’ I says, ‘Murray, what the fuck does it look like? I’m tryin’ on my clothes.’
“Weinstein shakes his head and says, ‘If I ever tell this story when I get back, nobody would believe me. You’re not in here trying on clothes; you’re just afraid to come out and face those beautiful babes who’ve been waiting for you since nine o’clock this morning.’
“Of course, he was right, and he broke the ice for me. I was really worried how I was goin’ to make a choice. The only thing I didn’t know was that they had me figured right down to the last nail; they knew I was gonna be chicken, so they had already tossed a coin to see who would get first whack. It turned out to be this girl Billie. She was a blonde, very tall, and with a build that couldn’t be believed. The minute I walked out on deck, there she was, waitin’ for me.
“I followed her to her cabin. On the table in the middle of the cabin there was a whole layout of Nova Scotia salmon and warm bagels, cream cheese and scrambled eggs. She sat me down and started to serve me from the buffet.