Operation Family Secrets Part 4

Almost five years later, in 1981, a grand jury in Kansas City indicted a handful of mob bosses, including Joe Agosto and KC mob boss Nick Civella, for skimming and redirecting gambling funds from Vegas hotels into mob accounts. But after seven convictions in 1983, the government still wanted to know about Vandermark's disappearance.

On January 21, 1986, Emil Vaci was questioned by a grand jury on the disappearance of Jay Vandermark. Outfit bosses were concerned that his testimony would not only expose them, but affect their entire skimming operation.

Vaci's grand jury appearance was problematic. Ordinarily gangsters taking the fifth in front of a grand jury spend only a short time behind closed doors. Vaci spent over three hours pleading the fifth. Though he revealed nothing, the Outfit had grave doubts, and since it was better to be safe than sorry, it was decided back in Chicago that Emil Vaci had to go. doubts, and since it was better to be safe than sorry, it was decided back in Chicago that Emil Vaci had to go.

It was decided that a group of elite hit men would be dispatched west from Chicago not only to deal with Vaci's worrisome grand jury appearance, but to also take care of Tony Spilotro in Las Vegas. Spilotro and his crew were out of control, pulling heists and drawing attention, irritating Tony Accardo and Joey Aiuppa. Spilotro had become one of the most celebrated Outfit crime figures since Capone. His high-profile crime spree plagued the Outfit and continued to garner unwanted publicity as the Vegas news media regularly reported burglaries and home invasions, unauthorized by the boys back home.

The hierarchy in the Outfit was fed up with the trouble out West, and the frustration peaked when Joey Aiuppa and Jackie Cerone were sentenced to prison because Spilotro was out of control in Vegas. Stories were getting back to Aiuppa that Spilotro was involved with Rosenthal's wife, Geri (played by Sharon Stone in Casino Casino). The old mustaches, as they were referred to, frowned on violating the long-held taboo of sleeping with the wife of a high-ranking mobster. The icing on the cake was the unauthorized murders and heists, which were only drawing more attention to Spilotro and his so-called Hole in the Wall crew.

In March 1986, Uncle Nick got the call from "Big Stoop" Fecarotta to come west to Arizona. Because he was toting explosives (supplied by Little Jimmy Marcello) inside his carry-on bag, my uncle opted to take a train rather than a plane. Once he arrived at the Phoenix train station, he was met by Big Stoop and Frank "the German" Schweihs. The three men drove to Las Vegas together to spend a couple of weeks "laying on" Tony and Michael. The initial plan was to take out the Spilotros first, then go to Arizona and complete the Vaci a.s.signment.

The trio floated a few ideas on how to kill the Spilotros. Frank the German suggested gunning them down with an Uzi in the bas.e.m.e.nt offices of a local lawyer. Or how about killing them on the courthouse steps after an upcoming court appearance? Death by explosives was discussed. My uncle, not a risk taker, wasn't convinced. No use "cowboying" it Wild Bunchstyle, like Butch Petrocelli might have done. convinced. No use "cowboying" it Wild Bunchstyle, like Butch Petrocelli might have done.

"If we kill these guys with an Uzi in broad daylight," my uncle reasoned, "they'll lock the whole city down. There's only a couple of ways in and out of Vegas. We'll never make it out alive."

As the crew found out, it proved extremely difficult to get both Spilotro brothers together and vulnerable. Arriving back in Arizona from Vegas, Uncle Nick met Paul "the Indian" Schiro for the first time. The Indian, a career burglar, served as the Outfit's point man in the Southwest. He was an old friend of Emil Vaci's, a fact that didn't seem to deter him from helping to plot his death.

As the days and weeks pa.s.sed, back home in Chicago, imprisoned boss Aiuppa was getting impatient with the boys out West. They had already spent close to a hundred G's, sent via Federal Express by Sam "Wings" Carlisi, hidden inside a shipment of cigars. After weeks of stalking the Spilotros with zero results, my uncle was getting concerned about having squandered so much Outfit dough with nothing to show for it. Fearing an impatient Outfit might push the b.u.t.ton on them them, they decided that Emil Vaci had to be killed next, and p.r.o.nto. But how?

One proposal: my uncle would dress up as a FedEx man, walk into the back of Vaci's wife's dress shop, and shoot him, a plan that was foiled when a telephone man was in the back, up on a pole installing wire for new phone lines. Was he a fed?

Another option: murder Vaci outside Ernesto's, the restaurant where he worked as maitre d'.

After suddenly being called back to Chicago and redispatched, the hit team, now consisting of Nick, Paul Schiro, Jimmy DiForti, John Fecarotta, and Joey Hansen (leaving Frank the German behind in Chicago), returned to Arizona with a new plan. The four mobsters quickly went back to work. They dug three holes forty-five minutes outside of town. They parked a stolen 1986 Pontiac Grand Prix (grifted earlier by Frank the German) to hold a place next to Vaci's regular parking s.p.a.ce. According to a report and citation written on March 26, 1986, all four of the Pontiac's tires were slashed by vandals, which raised concerns among the hit squad that someone was possibly wise to the hit. tires were slashed by vandals, which raised concerns among the hit squad that someone was possibly wise to the hit.

Prior to the murder, my uncle and Big Stoop drove from Phoenix to Las Vegas, possibly to pick up weapons. On their way back to Phoenix, they stopped at an Arizona casino in Bullhead City, where Fecarotta hit a $2,100 jackpot. Curiously, it was my uncle who signed the tax form using his own name, which again, decades later, placed him in the vicinity of the Vaci murder.

Fecarotta would leave Phoenix again for Vegas prior to Vaci's murder. After being forced to testify in a Washington, D.C., hearing investigating Outfit links with labor unions, Big Stoop felt that he was drawing law enforcement heat. Capo Jimmy LaPietra would later equate Fecarotta's departure to Vegas with abandoning his Outfit obligations in Phoenix.

The final plan was simplified. Uncle Nick and Hansen would grab Vaci one night after work, throw him into an Econoline "pleasure" van parked directly next to his car, shoot and strangle him, and then deposit his corpse into one of the three holes outside of town.

Each team member's role was a.s.signed the night of the Vaci hit: Nick was the shooter, Joey Hansen was the van driver, and Paul Schiro and Jimmy DiForti were lookouts. After closing time on Sat.u.r.day night, June 7, 1986, Vaci, who had just bought a new suit to wear to a ceremony to renew his wedding vows, walked out to his car. Suddenly Uncle Nick slid open the Econoline door and grabbed him. A struggle ensued. Together, Hansen and my uncle dragged Vaci into the van. At first, Vaci thought he was being robbed. But as Hansen drove off, and my uncle pulled the .22-caliber pistol with a silencer, Vaci knew exactly what was going down, especially when he noticed the blue plastic tarp on the van floor.

Vaci pleaded, "I didn't say anything, guys. You don't need to do this. I didn't say anything."

My uncle held the .22 to Vaci's head and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. The gun jammed. But not for long. He shot Vaci multiple times in the head with the .22. The body was wrapped inside the blue plastic tarp. On the drive to one of the graves, Hansen wondered aloud, Was Vaci dead? To make certain, Uncle Nick shot him in the head once more. Nervous about a forty-five-minute drive with a dead body in the van, Nick and Joey decided to forgo the holes and pull off to the side of the road and dump the tarp-wrapped body into a dry ca.n.a.l embankment. As they sped off, my uncle noticed his spare gun, a .38, missing. It later turned up-wrapped inside the blue tarp with Emil Vaci's body. shot Vaci multiple times in the head with the .22. The body was wrapped inside the blue plastic tarp. On the drive to one of the graves, Hansen wondered aloud, Was Vaci dead? To make certain, Uncle Nick shot him in the head once more. Nervous about a forty-five-minute drive with a dead body in the van, Nick and Joey decided to forgo the holes and pull off to the side of the road and dump the tarp-wrapped body into a dry ca.n.a.l embankment. As they sped off, my uncle noticed his spare gun, a .38, missing. It later turned up-wrapped inside the blue tarp with Emil Vaci's body.

The fate of Tony and Michael Spilotro on Sat.u.r.day, June 14, 1986, a week after Emil Vaci's death, is well known through the motion picture Casino Casino and the national interest the story garnered. Tony and my father (Dad being one year older) grew up in the same neighborhood, the Patch. The Calabrese family's first connection with the and the national interest the story garnered. Tony and my father (Dad being one year older) grew up in the same neighborhood, the Patch. The Calabrese family's first connection with the Spilotros was when my father's family rented an apartment on the third floor next to the building that housed Patsy's, the Spilotro family eatery. Spilotros was when my father's family rented an apartment on the third floor next to the building that housed Patsy's, the Spilotro family eatery.

Named after father Pasquale Spilotro, Sr., an immigrant from the Italian province of Bari, Patsy's was a cozy Italian joint located right at Grand Avenue and Ogden. Patsy's old-country cuisine (and its adjacent parking lot used for mob meetings) was a magnet for major Outfit figures Tony Accardo, Sam Giancana, Jackie Cerone, and Gussie Alex. At one point, six Spilotro brothers worked at their father's restaurant before striking out on their own.

I remember standing on the corner of Grand Avenue and Ogden with my dad as he told me about Patsy's and that Pasquale junior, whom we knew as Dr. Pat Spilotro, was the toughest and most levelheaded of the Spilotro brothers. He said it was ironic because Dr. Pat was the one brother who steered away from trouble and became a great dentist and family man. He was our family dentist for years.

Like my father, Tony took to the streets after dropping out of school. His first arrest was in 1955 for shoplifting and purse s.n.a.t.c.hing. By 1962 he began his a.s.sociation with Lefty Rosenthal by trying to fix college basketball and football games. As Tony's notoriety burgeoned, he ascended quickly up the Outfit ladder, rubbing shoulders with Joey Aiuppa, Turk Torello, Angelo and Jimmy LaPietra, and later Joey Lombardo.

My father often told me that he and Tony b.u.t.ted heads when they were younger at Grand and Ogden. Tony didn't scare my father. One night they were at a nightclub and Tony was giving my father the evil eye from the other end of the bar. Here's how tough my father was. When he saw Tony go into the bathroom alone, he followed him in, locked the door, and turned and asked him if he had something on his mind. Tony said no, so they went back out into the lounge, sat for a couple of hours, talked things over, and worked everything out. They understood each other. Tony respected my father because he wouldn't back down, unlike most people on the street.

While Tony may have respected my father, there was a time when my dad seriously considered inviting Michael Spilotro to join his Chinatown crew. Of the two brothers, Michael was the most personable, and later his rugged good looks earned him television acting roles (once portraying an FBI agent) with Robert Conrad and with Larry Manetti on when my dad seriously considered inviting Michael Spilotro to join his Chinatown crew. Of the two brothers, Michael was the most personable, and later his rugged good looks earned him television acting roles (once portraying an FBI agent) with Robert Conrad and with Larry Manetti on Magnum, P.I Magnum, P.I. Both Conrad and Manetti are Chicago-born actors.

The one thing that Tony and my father had in common was that they were born leaders, but what the bosses didn't like was that both were fast with their hands and too violent.

By the early 1970s, Tony was shipped off to Las Vegas to succeed Marshall Caifano as the Outfit's eyes and ears in Fun City, a job for which my father was in the running. It came down to the two of them because what the bosses wanted in Vegas was somebody who was feared and who could keep everybody in line. I think my dad would have done better because he was more low-key and listened to the bosses.

With Michael in Chicago in 1971, Tony moved to Las Vegas and quickly reunited with his pal Lefty Rosenthal. He soon exceeded his responsibilities of overseeing the Outfit's casino skim by organizing the burglars, pimps, call girls, and stickup artists, demanding that they pay a street tax-and they paid.

He set up the Gold Rush Jewelry Store on West Sahara Avenue with the help of another childhood friend, Frank Cullotta. The Gold Rush served as a gathering place for criminals who came west. In a short time they became known as the Hole in the Wall Gang. They got the name by gaining entry with holes cut through walls, doors, or rooftops. Included in this all-star cast were Tony's brother Michael Spilotro, Sal Romano, and their leader, Frank Cullotta. As Nicky Santoro's sidekick, actor Frank Vincent portrayed Cullotta in the 1995 motion picture Casino Casino. Cullotta served as a "technical consultant" for the film.

By 1978, the Hole in the Wall Gang had graduated from burglaries, strong-arm robberies, and extortion to ordering hits on key FBI agents. By 1979, the Spilotro name was entered into the Black Book, barring him from entering any casino in Nevada. This served to accelerate Hole in the Wall Gang's capers.

On the first floor of the Gold Rush was the jewelry section, where rings, bracelets, and necklaces were sold at unusually high discounts. Upstairs was off limits to the public; there, Tony sold police radio scanners and surveillance equipment to burglars.

The more reckless Tony got with his victims, his crew, and his visibility, the stickier his situation got back home in Chicago. While Tony was the dominant criminal mind of the two, Michael was ambitious and wanted to rise through the ranks and taste his brother's status. It was evident to everyone that Michael was riding on his brother's fearsome reputation. Both were involved in extortion schemes, robbery, call girls on the Strip, and bookmaking. Things started changing quickly for Tony when Angelo LaPietra and Joey Aiuppa were sentenced for their convictions in the Operation Strawman Las Vegas skim case.

Tony and Michael's demise a week after Emil Vaci's is the stuff from which crime legends are made. Once the hit squad of Uncle Nick, John Fecarotta, Jimmy DiForti, and Frank the German came up empty, the imprisoned Joey Aiuppa and Angelo LaPietra gave word to Sam Carlisi, the boss. Tony had to go, and Michael was to be included. The Spilotro act in Las Vegas had worn thin.

When Tony got a severance from their racketeering trial because of his "heart condition," it was one more nail in his coffin. Aiuppa was enraged that he was spending his golden years in federal prison, and felt that it was because of Spilotro's high-profile and out-of-control behavior that he was behind bars. The coup de grace was Spilotro's affair with Geri Rosenthal, Lefty's wife.

As the clock was ticking on Tony and Michael Spilotro, the two brothers were whistled back to Chicago, ostensibly for an important meeting under the a.s.sumption that Michael would be "made" and Tony would be promoted to capo.

It was Big Stoop Fecarotta who, a week prior, gave Uncle Nick the heads-up that the Spilotros were slated to be killed. When he reported back to my father, with me in the room, my uncle told us of the plan to kill both Tony and Michael. My father wasn't happy. He was disappointed that the bosses hadn't involved him in planning the hit.

I saw concern on my father's face about Michael's having to go. He thought things were getting out of hand with the bosses and wondered what would stop him and Uncle Nick from being on the hit list someday. We talked for a while about how things were changing.

Sat.u.r.day afternoon, June 14, 1986, Nick drove alone to the Oak Brook Shopping Center on Route 83, just south of Bensenville. There, in the parking lot of Venture, a department store chain in the area, he met Big Stoop and Jimmy LaPietra. They were picked up later by Jimmy Marcello, who drove them to a Bensenville address.

According to my uncle, when they entered the house, they were met by John DiFronzo, Sam Carlisi, and Joe Ferriola. After exchanging greetings, Uncle Nick and the group made their way into the bas.e.m.e.nt, where he saw Louis "the Mooch" Eboli, Louis Marino, and three other "gentlemen" whom he didn't recognize or know. Since it was a "formal murder party," everyone was wearing gloves.

With everything in place, Marcello left the house to pick up the Spilotro brothers. He returned with them about thirty minutes later. They were heard exchanging greetings with people upstairs. Nick was in the bas.e.m.e.nt. He didn't know exactly who was upstairs, other than Marcello, Michael, and Tony.

According to Nick's testimony, Michael entered the bas.e.m.e.nt first and was grabbed by Eboli, Marino, and my uncle. Nick testified that Marino and Nick held him down while Eboli quickly threw a rope around his neck and strangled him. While my uncle was distracted with the killing of Michael, he did hear Tony say, "You guys are going to get in trouble." Then, realizing it was the end, he asked to say a prayer. Request denied. (DiFronzo and Marino have never been charged.) After the murders, Marcello drove my uncle, Fecarotta, and Jimmy LaPietra back to the shopping center. Uncle Nick accompanied Fecarotta and LaPietra to dump Tony's car at a hotel, where it was later found. Nick doesn't know how the Spilotros got to their "funeral home" in Indiana, but he concluded that each crew had a specific responsibility and had no knowledge of what the other crews were doing. a specific responsibility and had no knowledge of what the other crews were doing.

Ann Spilotro, Michael's wife, later testified that Michael told her he was meeting with Marcello on Sat.u.r.day afternoon with Tony, and they were moving up in the organization. The night before, Friday, June 13, Michael told Ann that if he wasn't at the graduation party they were planning to attend the next evening by nine o'clock, something had gone wrong. They left their rings and jewelry behind in a plastic bag. Michael's daughter Mich.e.l.le testified that she answered a call at their home on that Sat.u.r.day morning from a man she knew as Jim, who asked to speak with her father. (It was Mich.e.l.le who identified Jimmy Marcello, voice number 6, as "Jim" in a voice "lineup" conducted by the FBI. According to FBI tapes, Jimmy Marcello's code name for the Spilotros was "the Zhivagos.") My dad told me numerous times it was Aiuppa who ordered Tony killed and that he wanted it done before he and Angelo reported to prison. Aiuppa didn't care how; he just wanted it done. While it was Tony who had incurred the wrath of the Outfit bosses, killing Michael was deemed a necessary precaution. Had he remained alive, there was concern that he might exact revenge, or worse, flip with enough information to bring down the entire Outfit.

Frank Cullotta has his theory that both Spilotro brothers knew it was the end of the line. "I knew he was going to get killed," said Cullotta, "and when he disappeared, I was asked, 'Do you think he ran?' 'No, he's dead.' 'How do you know?' 'Oh c'mon, Tony ain't gonna run. He knows he can't go anywhere.'"

There was a rumor that Tony had his own skim going, and that shortly after his death, when authorities went to his Las Vegas home, they found millions stashed in a hollowed-out section of floor under a waterbed. Had Spilotro been skimming the skim for years and not giving the bosses a straight count?

It was first thought by the FBI that Tony and Michael were buried in an Illinois junkyard. This was based on a tip and a search that turned out to be fruitless. Gangster and chop shop king Al "Caesar" Tocco and Nicholas "Nicky" Guzzino were among those who botched the burial, leading to the discovery of the Spilotros' bodies by a local Indiana farmer alongside Highway 41. who botched the burial, leading to the discovery of the Spilotros' bodies by a local Indiana farmer alongside Highway 41.

Betty Tocco, Al's wife, subsequently testified that on Sunday morning, June 15-Father's Day-Tocco called at six o'clock screaming that she was to leave the house immediately to pick him up at a gas station on Route 41 near Enos, Indiana. Betty made the twenty-minute drive and found Tocco disheveled and filthy in blue work clothes. The gas station was approximately one mile from the burial site.

According to Betty's testimony, Al was angry that he got split up from Nicky, Tootsie, and Chickie; Nicky Guzzino, a member of the executive board for Local 5 of the Laborers' International Union of North America and pension board trustee; Dominick "Tootsie" Palermo; and Albert "Chickie" Roviero. Tocco and his three "undertakers" were given burial detail.

In reconstructing the murders of the Spilotros, Ross Rice of the FBI concluded that it was a highly compartmentalized operation. There were guys at the Bensenville house murder scene that didn't know each other, and this was purposeful. It was apparent that members of various crews were given their respective a.s.signments from the top. Tocco, as the Chicago Heights boss, was in charge of burying the brothers.

Betty Tocco continued her testimony by recalling that Al was irate that Chickie, Nicky, and Tootsie had gone off with one of the walkie-talkies. While they were digging they became spooked when a car came down the road too close to the burial site. After they became separated and Tocco had no way to communicate, he walked all night, and finally at around 6:00 a.m. found his way to the gas station on Route 41, where Betty picked him up. After driving her husband to Chickie's house and finding he wasn't there, they went to Al's sanitation company, the Chicago Heights Disposal Company, with him still wearing the same dirty clothes.

According to retired FBI agent James Wagner, the former president of the Chicago Crime Commission, Tony Spilotro was "a killer and a very dangerous individual with a 'little man syndrome'" and a "quick temper," and was "very arrogant and antagonistic." Since his death, Tony Spilotro has become an immortalized mob legend. syndrome'" and a "quick temper," and was "very arrogant and antagonistic." Since his death, Tony Spilotro has become an immortalized mob legend.

Retired FBI agent Zack Shelton recounts a 1978 dinner he had with fellow FBI agent and tough guy Ron Elder in Tony's restaurant. They were in Las Vegas to serve Spilotro as part of the Operation Strawman case. As Shelton and Elder were eating, they heard loud comments coming from a table in the far corner of the restaurant.

"The motherf.u.c.kers from the FBI are here...those chickens.h.i.t FBI agents..."

At that point Elder walked over to the table to find Tony Spilotro and his a.s.sociates with their girlfriends.

"We're trying to enjoy a meal and don't appreciate hearing your foulmouthed comments from our table. If you have anything else to say, let's go outside right now."

Elder returned to his table, and the agents finished their meal without a problem. Later during the trip, agents were booking and fingerprinting Tony at the Las Vegas FBI office when Bud Hall, Zack's fellow agent, stood in the doorway and peered in.

"Bud gave Tony an up-and-down look," Shelton recalled, "and said, 'You really are a little f.u.c.k, aren't you?'"

While it is common knowledge that Tony was the template for the Nicky Santoro role played by Joe Pesci in the 1995 Martin Scorsese and Nicholas Pileggi motion picture Casino Casino, there are chilling similarities between Tony Spilotro and another fictional Pesci/Scorsese/Pileggi movie character, Tommy DeVito in the 1990 GoodFellas GoodFellas. In addition to Pesci's remarkable resemblance to Tony as the Santoro character in Casino Casino, the Tommy character of GoodFellas GoodFellas meets a fate similar to Tony and Michael's after being whistled in by mob hierarchy on the pretext of being made. When he arrives, he is efficiently executed in a residential bas.e.m.e.nt that's part Spilotro, part Sam Giancana. meets a fate similar to Tony and Michael's after being whistled in by mob hierarchy on the pretext of being made. When he arrives, he is efficiently executed in a residential bas.e.m.e.nt that's part Spilotro, part Sam Giancana.

In Casino Casino, there's another famous scene in which the Spilotro-inspired Nicky character gouges a man to death with a fountain pen in a bar. I remember my father telling a similar Tony Spilotro tale, except with a much different setting.

When Casino Casino first came out, my dad talked about that scene. Only his experience didn't happen in a bar. It happened at a car wash on Harlem Avenue, just down the street from where Tony and Michael lived in Oak Park. My father just happened to be driving by and saw Tony fighting in the car wash lot, stabbing a guy with a pen. He ran over to see if Tony needed any help. Tony was fine, but my father told him to get the h.e.l.l out of there. first came out, my dad talked about that scene. Only his experience didn't happen in a bar. It happened at a car wash on Harlem Avenue, just down the street from where Tony and Michael lived in Oak Park. My father just happened to be driving by and saw Tony fighting in the car wash lot, stabbing a guy with a pen. He ran over to see if Tony needed any help. Tony was fine, but my father told him to get the h.e.l.l out of there.

I'd see Michael at his restaurant, Hoagies Pub. He and Tony ran pot and cocaine out of the place. Later, I told my dad what I thought was going on with Tony and Michael. At first my dad thought I was wrong, as I had to be careful because I didn't want my father to find out how I I knew where cocaine was being sold. Michael, my father, and West Side underboss Tony Centracchio hung around a lot socially and did some business together. knew where cocaine was being sold. Michael, my father, and West Side underboss Tony Centracchio hung around a lot socially and did some business together.

Centracchio, who pa.s.sed away in 2002, oversaw the west suburban video gambling network while legitimately funneling his money into a jewelry store, a retail carpet outlet, and, strangely, an abortion clinic. An FBI wiretap placed in the clinic revealed that Centracchio was having s.e.x with a considerably younger female employee.

While my father was recuperating from brain surgery, he discussed the killing of the Spilotro brothers with my uncle and me as we did our bookwork in the Oak Brook bas.e.m.e.nt.

After Tony and Michael turned up dead, my father told me to stop going to Dr. Pat. He was afraid that Pat might try something because his brothers had been killed. So we found new dentists.

My father had a hard-and-fast rule that harkened back to Tony Spilotro's affair with Rosenthal's wife, Geri. My father never intentionally went to the home of an Outfit guy if the wife was home alone. Instead, he would send Kurt and me. When Ronnie Jarrett was in prison, my dad sent Kurt and me to drop off the monthly money for Ronnie's wife and kids.

My father was concerned that he could be compromised by going to the house of a friend who was in jail. The wife was lonely, and might be looking for a shoulder to cry on. This could create problems. What if she made a move on my father and he said no? Or what if the woman went to her husband and said that my father made a move on her? In my father's mind that could present a huge problem within the Outfit, especially in light of Butch Petrocelli and Tony Spilotro getting involved with other Outfit guys' wives. said no? Or what if the woman went to her husband and said that my father made a move on her? In my father's mind that could present a huge problem within the Outfit, especially in light of Butch Petrocelli and Tony Spilotro getting involved with other Outfit guys' wives.

The deaths of the Spilotros sent ripples of fear not only throughout the streets, but through the ranks of the Outfit. Things had had changed. Everybody needed to be smarter, to be more careful, and to trust changed. Everybody needed to be smarter, to be more careful, and to trust n.o.body n.o.body. The new rule became, if my father and uncle were whistled in by the bosses, they wouldn't go together. Instead, they would make excuses about the other being sick. My dad and uncle speculated about who in the Outfit might want them them dead. dead.

I was instructed by my father and uncle that in the event they were killed like Tony and Michael, I would have a mental list of whom I needed to go after to avenge their deaths.

I was supposed to be in the backseat of the stolen Buick work car the night my uncle Nick killed John "Big Stoop" Fecarotta. By September of 1986, I was twenty-six and fully signed on to my father's crew and his way of life. After taking a larger role in the day-to-day operations, I was ready to take a ma.s.sive step forward by planning and a.s.sisting in my first gangland murder.

It was decided that John Fecarotta had to go. He was quickly losing face with my father and his bosses, Johnny Apes and Jimmy LaPietra. Jimmy "Tires" DiForti knew it, too. Big Stoop's days were numbered. quickly losing face with my father and his bosses, Johnny Apes and Jimmy LaPietra. Jimmy "Tires" DiForti knew it, too. Big Stoop's days were numbered.

Once Jimmy LaPietra handed down the order, my father, uncle, and I carefully planned Fecarotta's murder in the bas.e.m.e.nt of Grandma Sophie's duplex. Because there had been bad blood between them, it was agreed that my father shouldn't be in the car; otherwise Fecarotta would catch the play. My father reluctantly agreed that I would take the backseat of the stolen Buick and that Big John would be more at ease seeing me there than him. While my father had reservations about my going ahead with the hit, my uncle was 100 percent against it, so much so that he insisted on doing it alone. Although hitting Fecarotta solo from the front seat would be extremely risky, he wanted to proceed without me.

"Look, I can do this by myself," he said to my dad.

I believe my father let my uncle talk him out of my going because he was torn about me doing it in the first place. The compromise was that although my uncle would go it alone, instead of packing just one gun, he would carry a backup...just in case.

My father was the master of the "sit-down." Earlier he had arranged Fecarotta's demise by drawing up a list of grievances he presented to Jimmy LaPietra, successor to his brother Angelo, who was in federal prison. The list of Big Stoop's indiscretions was long and convincing. It detailed how he didn't pay back the money he owed Johnny DiFronzo for cars, and how his girlfriend accompanied him out west for the hit. It recounted when he spent over a hundred grand of Outfit cash stalking Tony and Michael Spilotro in Las Vegas and Emil Vaci in Phoenix, and when he won the taxable-and IRS traceable-$2,100 jackpot at a casino and conned Uncle Nick into signing the payout form. This displeased the bosses in Chicago, especially since the members of the hit squad were to be traveling under fake ident.i.ties and no one was to know they were anywhere near Las Vegas.

The relationship between the Calabrese brothers and Big Stoop soured after Uncle Nick was cajoled into signing for Fecarotta's winnings amid the growing sentiment that Big Stoop was a major f.u.c.kup. But what annoyed my father the most was the poaching of a Calabrese juice loan customer, Richie Urso, a degenerate gambler who was ordered by Fecarotta to pay the mortgage on his house at 268 Gage Road in the Illinois suburb of Riverside. Fecarotta was months behind on his mortgage (even mobsters make house payments) and went too far by drafting winnings amid the growing sentiment that Big Stoop was a major f.u.c.kup. But what annoyed my father the most was the poaching of a Calabrese juice loan customer, Richie Urso, a degenerate gambler who was ordered by Fecarotta to pay the mortgage on his house at 268 Gage Road in the Illinois suburb of Riverside. Fecarotta was months behind on his mortgage (even mobsters make house payments) and went too far by drafting paperwork paperwork outlining Urso's financial obligations to him, completely cutting out my father. Big John undoubtedly knew that Urso was heavily in debt to our crew. outlining Urso's financial obligations to him, completely cutting out my father. Big John undoubtedly knew that Urso was heavily in debt to our crew.

"I want my f.u.c.king money," my father demanded, holding a blade to Urso's genitals.

"But I'm paying Fecarotta."

"You f.u.c.kin' pay me. It's my loan."

"What about my payments to Fecarotta?"

A heated meeting between my father and Fecarotta proved unproductive. When my father arranged a sit-down with Jimmy LaPietra, my uncle was on hand to recap Fecarotta's shenanigans. Through capo Jimmy LaPietra, they got their wish, the green light from Outfit boss Sam "Wings" Carlisi to eliminate Big John. My father and the crew wasted little time plotting Fecarotta's murder.

At sundown on September 14, 1986, three months to the day after Tony and Michael Spilotro were murdered, Uncle Nick picked up Big Stoop in the Buick on the pretext of planting a bomb on a deadbeat union dentist who had betrayed the Outfit. Although it was unseasonably warm, both men wore thin dark leather gloves. At first my uncle wanted to wear construction-type work gloves, which would draw less attention in Chicago on a warm September evening. When he could not find them, he grabbed a pair of black dress gloves instead.

Fecarotta never suspected that the bomb that Nick produced from a paper sack was a fake, constructed of flares taped up and decorated with "det" cord, disguised to look like a bundle of explosives. Nor did Fecarotta notice that the .38 pistol that my uncle had stashed for him in the glove compartment had its firing pin filed down and was rendered completely useless.

With Fecarotta the experienced wheelman doing the driving and Uncle Nick sitting in the pa.s.senger seat, they pulled up to an alley across the street from Brown's Banquets on West Belmont Avenue. Brown's was the parlor where Grandma Sophie played bingo. Although it was early Sunday evening, one of my father's concerns was that none of the ladies from the neighborhood recognize my uncle walking on West Belmont. and Uncle Nick sitting in the pa.s.senger seat, they pulled up to an alley across the street from Brown's Banquets on West Belmont Avenue. Brown's was the parlor where Grandma Sophie played bingo. Although it was early Sunday evening, one of my father's concerns was that none of the ladies from the neighborhood recognize my uncle walking on West Belmont.

The plan called for Nick to get out of the car, pull the gun out of the bag containing the bomb, and kill Big Stoop. Instead, Fecarotta caught the play inside the car and shouted, "Oh no, not you!"

As Uncle Nick struggled with Fecarotta inside the car, he pulled his left arm into the line of fire and shot both himself and Fecarotta. A struggle for the weapon ensued, and Big John held the hammer on the revolver so that it could not fire another round. He popped open the chamber, spilling .38 cartridges all over the Buick's floorboards. Then Fecarotta jumped out of the car and made a run for it. Nick dashed out of the car in pursuit, pulling his second gun. Fecarotta ran for his life, crossing West Belmont Avenue toward the bingo parlor. Nick shot him two more times before catching up and firing point-blank into his head.

Prior to the shooting, Uncle Nick was supposed to call my father and Johnny Apes, who were on backup in separate cars with hand-held radios, to let them know that he and Fecarotta were in position. That would be the signal that my uncle was exiting the car and that he was ready to whack Big Stoop. But amid the confusion, he didn't have the opportunity to make the call, so neither my father nor Johnny Apes showed up at the alleyway to pick him up.

Not seeing my father or Johnny, my uncle composed himself and decided to walk the three-quarters of a mile to where he had originally stashed his car. On the way, he tossed the gun into a sewer on the curb. So as not to look suspicious, he slipped off the dark (and now b.l.o.o.d.y) gloves. As he tried to shove them into his pants pocket, he inadvertently dropped both gloves on the street, only yards from the crime scene.

Bleeding as he walked past a lawn sprinkler, my uncle leaned down to rinse the blood off his arm. Then he made it to his car unnoticed and drove home. When my father hooked up with his brother at his house, he was fit to be tied. unnoticed and drove home. When my father hooked up with his brother at his house, he was fit to be tied.

"Where the f.u.c.k were you?" my father asked Nick. "Why didn't you call? I was running around like a f.u.c.king donkey."

Just before Johnny Apes arrived, my father instructed Nick to embellish his story. ("So you'll look like a hero instead of a f.u.c.kup.") As my dad opened the door, he announced to Johnny with a smile, "Fecarotta caught the play. He pulled on Nick and shot him."

That night I was supposed to receive a page from my father by nine o'clock, signaling the all-clear, that Fecarotta was morto morto. If not, my orders were to empty the house and the office of anything incriminating should the cops arrive with a search warrant. The page never came. I waited until my father called. We spoke in code. Apparently things hadn't gone as smoothly as when the three of us had rehea.r.s.ed things back in Grandma's bas.e.m.e.nt. As was typical of my father, information was spa.r.s.e. He would volunteer only that he had things under control.

My father then drove my uncle to an apartment in Cicero for meatball surgery. The surgeon wasn't Dr. Kildare but a veterinarian sent over by Jimmy Marcello. He patched Nick up, dressed the bullet wound, and handed him a few painkillers. Later that night the vet returned to finish the job, removing a couple of stray bone fragments from Uncle Nick's arm.

While my father cursed his brother, I looked at my uncle with admiration. After being shot, he managed to carry out my father's order alone, unconcerned about who was there to pick him up. When I met up with my uncle, he pulled me aside and whispered, "Frankie. I threw the gun in the sewer. You need to go get it."

I still had my connections with the city and the Department of Sewers, so I went over with a truck and an Orange Peel and cleaned out the sewer where he told me he'd tossed the gun. I found it and gave it back to him before my father found out. He didn't know until later that I had retrieved the gun.

At the time Fecarotta was killed, I was willing to make the crew and the Outfit my life. But rather than become a made guy and meet the same fate as Fecarotta, I wanted to stick close to my father. I wanted to be like him. I was okay with the killing of Fecarotta because he had set up my uncle in Vegas. Had it been over something like Outfit cash, I wouldn't have volunteered. But my family was another matter. Fecarotta jeopardized my uncle's freedom. I was ready to climb into the backseat. and meet the same fate as Fecarotta, I wanted to stick close to my father. I wanted to be like him. I was okay with the killing of Fecarotta because he had set up my uncle in Vegas. Had it been over something like Outfit cash, I wouldn't have volunteered. But my family was another matter. Fecarotta jeopardized my uncle's freedom. I was ready to climb into the backseat.

What I didn't realize was that by edging me out, my uncle was trying to tell me that the crew and the Outfit weren't what they were cracked up to be. Uncle Nick knew that my father and his controlling ways would be my undoing. By keeping me out of the backseat, it was as if my uncle was telling me, "This isn't the life for you. You need to back away." September 14, 1986, was the night that my uncle saved my life.

When he later appeared back on the streets with his arm bandaged and in a sling, my uncle joked with his friends that he had clumsily fallen at home. Knowing Nick, n.o.body doubted his story. What he didn't tell anyone-and what he himself didn't realize-was that while he had remembered to tell me to recover the gun, he had forgotten about the b.l.o.o.d.y gloves he had inadvertently left behind on West Belmont Avenue.