Mob Star_ The Story of John Gotti Part 16

SUCCESSFUL INVESTIGATIONS DEPEND ON SECRECY, and a big secret was kept from Diane Giacalone as she began her pursuit of Neil Dellacroce and John Gotti.

John, Gene, and Angelo were about to be named in a wiretap request as targets of a RICO investigation that Gambino Family specialists of the FBI and the Eastern District Organized Crime Strike Force already had underway.

Giacalone was not told; she worked for another agency. And neither the FBI nor the Strike Force believed that her RICO investigation, which had sprouted coincidentally out of the armored-car case, was any reason to shelve theirs, about which they naturally felt more loyalty.

An FBI squad in Queens-the "Gambino squad" involved in the Bergin fireworks raid-had been investigating the crew for nearly two years, collecting data from, among others, Sources BQ and Wahoo, who were described in an FBI affidavit as "never unreliable." FBI policy precluded Giacalone from knowing the ident.i.ties of BQ and Wahoo, but in time she would ignite a revealing behind-the-scenes battle over how to use them.

Citing the informants, the Strike Force had received permission from the Department of Justice in Was.h.i.+ngton to seek a wiretap order on Angelo's home phone, which was granted November 9, 1981.

One of the other informants was 6 foot 9 inch, 400-pound George Yudzevich, the "heavyset man" in Gloria, Gloria, a 1980 film directed by John Ca.s.savetes. Yudzevich was with another crew, but had spent time on 101st Avenue in an unsuccessful effort to hook up with the Gotti squad as a loan-shark collector. a 1980 film directed by John Ca.s.savetes. Yudzevich was with another crew, but had spent time on 101st Avenue in an unsuccessful effort to hook up with the Gotti squad as a loan-shark collector.

Loan-sharking and gambling were the initial focus of the FBI- Strike Force investigation, but not long after agents began monitoring Angelo's phone, the work babania babania was heard. Several amazing turns ensued; one featured the FBI investigating itself because, somehow, Angelo Ruggiero found out that agents had been listening to him and he went into hiding. was heard. Several amazing turns ensued; one featured the FBI investigating itself because, somehow, Angelo Ruggiero found out that agents had been listening to him and he went into hiding.

At the time, the FBI did not know how Angelo penetrated its official secrecy; in 1985, it would learn that he had obtained a draft copy of a bureau affidavit, which told him and others they were in deep trouble. The affidavit caused panic and deception within the Family within a Family, whose t.i.tular boss equated drug dealing with death. When it was all sorted out four years later, and John Gotti was the new boss of a unified Family, a few people would look back at November 9, 1981, the day the Angelo eavesdropping began, and say this was the day Paul Castellano really died.

The tapped telephone in Angelo's home was listed in his daughter's name. It was singled out because he had told informants it was "safe." They said that Angelo, only a few months after the Bergin wiretapping by Queens officials, was openly discussing-on the phone-the loan-sharking and gambling rackets that he, John, and Gene operated.

In its initial request to wiretap the telephone, the FBI listed Peter and Richard Gotti as loan-shark collectors and stated that Angelo was a "known murderer who would, without question, seek physical retribution and possibly murder a shylock victim who is unable to pay his debts."

"Shylock," another word for loan shark, has a literary etymology. In Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, Merchant of Venice, Shylock demanded "a pound of flesh" from delinquent borrowers. The unliterary underworld slurred the character's name into "shark." Shylock demanded "a pound of flesh" from delinquent borrowers. The unliterary underworld slurred the character's name into "shark."

"The shylock victim is generally a gambler who is deeply in debt," the FBI doc.u.ment continued. "For the victim, a shylock serves as a convenient, if menacing, answer to an immediate debt. Accordingly, a victim is loyal to the shylock and seeks to protect him."

The second day of the wiretap, Angelo and John Gotti, the merchants of Ozone Park, were overheard discussing a meeting about a loan to two men who ran a firm in the garment district, Mercury Pattern Service.

Later, "Marty" of Mercury called Angelo to see if it was okay if "Tommy" dropped off some "s.h.i.+rts" the next day.

"It's all right to say 'money,'" Angelo told Mercury's Marty.

The tap also quickly showed that Angelo had not been able to cool Gotti's ardor for gambling, now devoted to professional football, whose season was in full swing.

On Sunday, November 11, Angelo called to see how Gotti was doing so far that day. Gotti, already a big loser, was beside himself.

"I bet the Buffalo Bills for six dimes, they're getting killed, ten-nothing. I bet New England for six dimes, I'm getting killed with New England ... I bet six dimes on Chicago, they're losing. I bet three dimes on K.C. They're winning, [but] maybe they'll lose, these motherf.u.c.kers."

All told, Gotti was down for more than the $25,000 he allegedly made in a year allegedly working for Arc Plumbing. Angelo wondered which teams Gotti had bet on in the late-afternoon games.

"The Was.h.i.+ngton Redskins. I bet them for six dimes. Maybe they'll lose, too, against the Giants."

Angelo tried to steer the conversation into another area, but Gotti was distracted.

"We're getting killed, that's more important. I'm stuck almost thirty dimes here and nowhere to f.u.c.king go."

Angelo tried again. He told a story that ended with a reference to a man being loyal to his brother "all his life."

"Ah, Christ on the f.u.c.king cross. Right now I'd give my f.u.c.king life just to have f.u.c.king Buffalo win one."

On the following Sunday it was worse. As the late-afternoon games were ending, Angelo tracked Gotti down at the Cozy Corner Bar, which FBI agents suspected was the base of the gambling operation that Gotti's men ran for bettors besides themselves; the Berginites would bet with other bookies so as not to win their own money, if they ever won.

"Did you hang yourself?" Angelo asked as Gotti came on the bar phone. This time they used "dollar" as a synonym for $1,000.

"Forget about it. If I tell you what I lost you won't believe it."

"I could believe it."

"Forget about it. I got killed. Forget about it. I lost ... fifty-three dollars. You know the last time I lost fifty-three dollars?"

"I know all about it."

"On my son's grave, I ain't got fifty-three f.u.c.king cents."

Gotti then complained to Angelo he had just discovered that one of the men who managed the Cozy Corner operation had left a numbers bet in for him the last four weeks.

"He tells me another three dimes I owe ... f.u.c.king motherf.u.c.ker."

The same conversation showed Gotti used loan sharks, too, and one shark wanted to be fed.

"There's a problem," Angelo told his gambling gumbah, gumbah, "with the guy who lent you fifty dollars. I was told not to say nothing to you." "with the guy who lent you fifty dollars. I was told not to say nothing to you."

Gotti sighed and complained that in the meantime "I got three days to go borrow" the additional $53,000 he had lost.

On November 21, the word babania babania popped up obliquely in a conversation between Angelo and Gene Gotti. Source BQ had recently told the FBI that the pair was contacting popped up obliquely in a conversation between Angelo and Gene Gotti. Source BQ had recently told the FBI that the pair was contacting babania babania salesman Salvatore Ruggiero "just about every night from various public phone booths." salesman Salvatore Ruggiero "just about every night from various public phone booths."

Salvatore was wanted on three federal warrants for heroin dealing, hijacking, and tax evasion. For the latter, his wife Stephanie also was sought. They had been on the lam for six years.

Salvatore could afford life on the run. He secretly owned hideouts in Fort Lauderdale and the Poconos and traded stocks and bonds under other names. He also owned a diner, a greeting card store, and other investment property purchased through a company called Ozone Holding. He had four cars, including a Mercedes, and ten watches worth $12,000 each. He was living in a leased home in New Jersey while another was being built for him through a company run by Anthony and Caesar Gurino, owners of Arc Plumbing and paper bosses of John Gotti and Angelo Ruggiero.

At the time of Source BQ's tip, Angelo-a big gambler, too, but not like Gotti-was broke. Six months later, he would cite a remarkable turnaround.

"I'm way out of debt now," he told an acquaintance. "I'm no f.u.c.kin' millionaire, [but] I'm sitting on four hundred thousand dollars."

The furtive-phone-calls tip was evidence of a conspiracy to conceal a fugitive. The FBI intensified its surveillance of Angelo, John, Gene, and other Bergin men.

On November 24, Anthony Moscatiello, who had been forwarding mail to his old real estate partner, Salvatore, was stopped and searched by FBI agents. Tony quickly called Sal's brother.

"Two guys just took me out of the car."

"You're kidding," Angelo said.

"Guns drawn"

"For what?"

"[They] told me [it] was the company I keep."

Angelo called another Howard Beach neighbor, Joseph Ma.s.sino, soon to be acting boss of the Bonanno Family.

"I don't know what the f.u.c.k is going on over here," he told his and John's longtime friend. "Every time somebody leaves my f.u.c.king house ... agents grab them on the corner."

"What the f.u.c.k they want you to do?" Ma.s.sino said. "Hang out with doctors and lawyers?"

Later that day, Angelo called John.

"There's a little green car circling your block and my block."

"Yeah, all right."

"Broken taillight."

"Yeah ... f.u.c.kers."

On December 1, the Angelo wiretap was removed because he moved from Howard Beach to nearby Cedarhurst, Long Island, to a house that he was having renovated. Angelo told informants it was a good move for him-the FBI wouldn't know where he lived. In fact, pen registers at the Our Friends Social Club had disclosed several calls to Cedarhurst and FBI agents were watching on the day Angelo moved in.

The agents had increased physical surveillance of Angelo and John, suspecting they might be doing what they had not yet talked about on the phone: dealing drugs. Source BQ had just reported that they booted heroin dealer Mark Reiter, age 33, out of the crew-"to have everyone at the club think that they are on the outs with him. In reality, Reiter is arranging deals."

On December 30, two telephones in Angelo's safe house were tapped.

If John Gotti resolved to stop gambling in the New Year, he broke his resolution on New Year's Day-and lost $90,000 on bowl games he bet on with three bookies.

"The man is f.u.c.kin' nuts," Angelo told Ma.s.sino a few days later. "The man is mad."

Angelo frequently trashed John behind his back, the wiretaps showed. John was a "sick motherf.u.c.ker" whose "f.u.c.kin' mouth goes a mile a minute." He was always "abusing" and "talking about people" and was "wrong on a lot of things." Even so, Quack Quack loved Johnny Boy "like a brother"-their bond was now three decades in the making.

By law, when they're "up" on someone's phone, FBI agents must suspend monitoring if the conversations "are not criminal in nature." This is known as "minimization." As a practical matter, however, personal or unrelated comments are frequently made during "relevant" conversations. Sometimes, on Angelo's phones, the results were amusing.

For instance, Gene was taped talking about a horror movie he was watching when Angelo called one day.

"I just watched them shrink a head!"

"Shrink whose head?"

The Amazons, creatures of the Amazons."

"Yeah?"

"They didn't show you capturing the guy, they just show you his head. Forget about it."

"Yeah? I got to go watch it."

On occasion, touching comments about family members became part of impersonal Department of Justice transcripts.

Angelo, now the father of six children, was taped telling John about telling his young daughter a bedtime story. "So I told her about 'The Three Little Pigs.' And I forgot to tell her about the third little pig with the brick house. [Would] you believe, this morning when I woke up, she said, 'What happened to the other pig, Dad?'"

Eighteen months after Frank Gotti's death, John was taped telling Angelo where he'd been that morning.

"I went to see some hard-on and I went to see the f.u.c.kin' cemetery."

"Oh."

"My route, my daily route."

On January 10, Angelo's "mad man" went to see the Pope on Death Hill on Staten Island. Out of respect for Carmine Fatico, Gotti wasn't "officially" captain of the Bergin crew yet, according to what Angelo told a friend, but he "reports directly to the boss."

Gotti was accompanied by John Carneglia and observed by FBI agents lurking outside the Castellano White House. The two Johns spotted the agents, who decided to come out in plain view and take down a license-plate number, to let the spotters know they knew they were being watched.

Three days later, Angelo told Gotti that the agents were trying "to put something"-a bug-in Castellano's home. Angelo had the right idea, but the wrong house-at that time, anyway.

Late on January 14, Queens detectives began arresting the first of many crew members on bookmaking charges. As usual, the legal arrangements were handled by Angelo.

About 3:30 A.M., Angelo woke up Gotti, sick with the flu and in a grouchy mood. After Angelo filed his report. Gotti wondered whether they might get busted, too.

"What are they going to get us for?" Gotti seethed. "Sucking a f.u.c.king c.u.n.t?"

Having lost nearly $200,000 during the last few months of the football season, Gotti was annoyed that he might be arrested. "Maybe they want to help me borrow to pay," he said about the Queens cops. " ... maybe they want to pay the [loan-shark] rate."

Angelo said ten, maybe twelve, men had been arrested so far.

"One bigger f.u.c.kin' b.u.m than the other they locked up, uh?" Gotti grumbled.

"They're looking for your brother Richie."

"Like I said, one bigger b.u.m than the f.u.c.kin' other ... no matter how many c.o.c.ksuckers they get, they wanna bother the motherf.u.c.ker a.s.sholes in the world. I can't believe this."

Gotti's harsh reference to his brother Richard would not have surprised Source BQ. Only two months earlier, BQ had told the FBI it was "common knowledge" that John, Gene, and Richard "do not talk regularly" and frequently communicated through Angelo, who had known them all since childhood. BQ considered Gene the most intelligent of the Gotti brothers.

His tirade over, John said he had something important to tell Angelo, but not over the phone, and, in case anyone was listening in, he left this message: "Meantime, these f.u.c.kin' b.u.ms, the money they're wastin' to tap these phones for release cases like us, they coulda went and spent it on good tapes. You know what I mean? Or lend it to us, these f.u.c.kin' b.u.ms."

The men listening in didn't think they were wasting tax dollars, but the more agents and their supervisors heard Gotti betting nickels and dimes on horses and games, the less optimistic they were about persuading a jury that a man who bet so heavily also was a big bookmaker.

As the sun rose, Angelo was back on the phone with Michael Coiro, the Bergin bail-out specialist.

"Being that this is only a gambling case, you know, you shouldn't run into any problem on the bail," Coiro advised.

Angelo next called Tony Moscatiello and a.s.signed him to come by and pick up money, take it to Queens Criminal Court, and bail the Berginites out.

Finally, Angelo called Gene, who asked, "What's the story?"