Mob Rules

by Louis Ferrante

  My brain, given an opportunity to roam at will while I bullshitted with Bubba, C-Train, or Tex, continued to work subconsciously on the problem. A brief distraction is similar to sleeping on a problem and waking up with an answer. I realized that interruptions are a part of our perfect world.

  I received another benefit from welcoming interruptions: the more glimpses I had into different personalities, the better I understood human nature. And the more we understand human nature, the greater our chances for success.

  Most important, I helped a lot of people. So can you.

  LESSON 64

  The Bail Money’s in the Bedside Drawer: Get It Right Ahead of Time

  WHAT’S the worst that can happen? A chemical spill? A sexual harassment suit? A rotten news story? E. coli in the cafeteria?

  No one anticipates problems better than the Mob.

  Like most mobsters, I thought I’d never go to jail. I thought I was too smart to get caught. And yet, like most mobsters, I was ready, just in case.

  I made sure everyone around me knew exactly what to do if I was pinched.

  My cousin Don was to get bail money together and hire an attorney. Franky Stitches was to gather the titles to my cars, all under different people’s names, and sell the vehicles before they were confiscated. Johnny on the Avenue was to hold my jewelry in a safe deposit box. Benny was to take over my loan shark book and continue collections, while Juney would assume leadership of my crew and collect debts from fences for hijacked loads. Ally the Whisper would look out for my family. Last, I asked a friend on the fringe to report weekly to me on prison visits so I could keep a handle on operations and make decisions if necessary.

  If you see a need to make contingency plans similar to these mentioned above, you’re knee-deep in shit and I feel for you. For all others, use this extreme example as a guide to prepare for worst-case scenarios you’re sure to encounter.

  Wiseguys lead daring lives. Aware of how unpredictable fate can be, most mobsters get it right, ahead of time.

  LESSON 65

  Don’t Build Yankee Stadium, Just Supply the Concrete: Spotting New Rackets

  YESTERDAY’S Mafia wore pin-striped suits and fedoras. Today’s Mafia can be seen wearing T-shirts and Levi’s.

  Considering the original business approach of Levi Strauss, the founder of Levi Strauss & Co., his blue jeans are entirely appropriate for modern mobsters, and an apt metaphor for the Mafia’s methods.

  Strauss was an immigrant who landed in America just before the Gold Rush. In 1848, gold was found in California, and by the following year every dreamer in the world had trekked west. They shot for the stars and scraped their fingers to the bone digging for that one shiny nugget that would allow them a life of luxury. Few found gold. Most became disenchanted and returned home. Some wandered aimlessly, gambling and whoring their lives away, ending up as worn down as the earth they blasted apart.

  Unlike those dreamers, Strauss could spot the real nugget. Wagonloads of men were landing in California every day. They needed the basics to live and work: food, clothing, shovels, picks, pans, boots, buckets, combs, and handkerchiefs. Strauss opened a general store in San Francisco—Gold Rush Central—and sold every item the workers needed to panhandle, including his own twist on work pants: denim blue jeans.

  Strauss never sought the glitter of gold, but became one of the wealthiest men the Rush ever produced. The blue jeans he manufactured are still worn by all of us today, including mobsters.

  Smart mobsters operate using the same business principle as Strauss did. They may not get the big contract to build Yankee Stadium, but they set themselves up to supply a million ancillary needs. A perceptive mobster can analyze any large project in terms of the moneymaking potential it represents.

  Let’s look at Yankee Stadium. To build something that big, an enormous amount of debris must be hauled away from the site, some of it getting recycled. The contract for cement might be worth twenty million. Then there’s steel, rebar, wiring, plumbing, and carpentry. And how about food for thousands of workers?

  Think about that stadium for a few minutes and let your mind open up to the profit possibilities. Sod. Dirt. Plastic seats. Electronic signboards. Flagpoles. The list is getting long and we’re just getting started. And construction can take years.

  Activities of the criminal underworld are, by their nature, kaleidoscopic, constantly responding to shifts in market conditions and exploiting the myriad money-making opportunities provided by the legitimate world.

  —Paul Lunde, Organized Crime

  Chicago mobster Murray “The Camel” Humphreys was always looking for the next cash cow. He found it, quite literally, in 1930. While every mobster was warring over bootleg whiskey, Humphreys noticed that milk was in greater demand than booze, and set up Meadowmoor Dairies to meet the demand. By the way, you can thank Meadowmoor for introducing the “sell by” date on milk containers; kids getting sick from spoiled milk was bad publicity the Mob didn’t need.

  Like Levi Strauss, the Mafia can spot gold that doesn’t glitter, even when it’s squirting from a cow’s sack.

  Today, the Mafia operates worldwide in more than forty countries. But stay legit. Strauss sells blue jeans in over sixty countries; he outdid the Mob three to two.

  LESSON 66

  Give the IRS Their Vig: What We’ve Learned from Al Capone

  ONLY taxmen will hunt you down with more persistence than the Mob. When the law was unable to put the cuffs on Al Capone, they turned to the IRS. Trying to build a tax evasion case, the IRS combed through Capone’s tax returns and drove around Chicago visiting stores where Capone shopped. They added up the cost of Capone’s rugs and furniture, anything they could prove he owned.

  When the IRS nailed him, Capone offered to pay what he owed. It was too late; the IRS sent him to prison.

  After Capone went down, word spread around the Mob: give Uncle Sam his vig.

  When a businessman owns a tangible business and owes the Mob money, the Mob will sometimes force the businessman to do a “bust out,” in which they clean out his inventory, collect any debts owed to his business while letting his bills pile up, and then torch his joint and make him fork over the insurance check.

  Senator Tobey: “You must have in your mind something you’ve done that you can speak of to your credit as an American citizen. If so, what is it?” Frank Costello: “I paid my tax.”

  —Kefauver Committee investigating organized crime, 1951

  The IRS doesn’t refer to their collection procedures as a “bust out,” but they can be just as ruthless. They’ll confiscate everything you own until you’re even.

  The Mob may kill you, but the IRS will torture you without letting you die. Even smart mobsters who are experts at beating the system don’t mess with Uncle Sam.

  Black gangster Leroy “Nicky” Barnes ruled Harlem with an iron fist but was terrified of Uncle Sam. He filed taxes every year on a quarter of a million dollars in “miscellaneous income,” to keep the IRS off his back. The law eventually nailed Barnes, but it wasn’t the taxman who did it.

  A large percentage of Americans fudge a little on their taxes. The bigger you get, the more enemies you attract, and the more careful you’d better be! Give Uncle Sam his vig.

  LESSON 67

  Victory Without Follow-up Is Like Pasta Without Dessert: Crisis Management

  MARCH 21, 1980. Ten o’clock at night on a Philly street. A maroon Chevy is parked in front of a row of attached houses. Don Angelo Bruno sits in the car’s passenger seat after being driven home by a member of his crime family. As the two chat in the parked car, a third man approaches and puts the barrel of a shotgun to Bruno’s head. There is the subtle click of a trigger, followed by a loud blast. And the brain that ruled Philly for twenty years is blown out of its shell. The longtime don of the Philadelphia Mob has been forced into retirement.

  The Philadelphia crime family was in major crisis.

  The culprit behind the hit, Anthony “Tony Bana
nas” Caponigro, was the family consigliere. A consigliere is a position that normally requires wisdom; Caponigro’s mind would prove to be as bent as a banana.

  At the time, no one in the family knew who was behind the hit. As consigliere, Caponigro was sought out for advice. But instead of addressing the troops with a commanding air, or appointing a PR man to ease the tension, Caponigro hid out in Jersey waiting to hear what developed. He had no strategy; he just assumed that everyone would find out he killed Bruno somehow, and fall in line behind him out of fear. He exhibited no diplomacy, and saw no reason to placate Bruno’s pals, who were naturally angered by his death.

  When Caponigro’s own men asked him what their next move was, he told them, “Don’t worry about nothin’.” Then he partied up a storm, celebrating his “victory.”

  Wishful thinking is not a substitute for a legitimate crisis communication strategy.

  —Steve Adubato, What Were They Thinking?: Crisis Communication

  Caponigro was under quite a delusion. Less than a month after Bruno’s hit, Caponigro’s nude body was found in the trunk of a car. He’d been beaten, strangled, stabbed, and shot. A few hundred dollars in cash had been stuffed down his throat, and up his ass.

  Caponigro’s first mistake was killing Bruno, the “Gentle Don,” who was well liked by most of the family and had a strong relationship with the other families. With a little propaganda, however, Caponigro might have lowered people’s high opinion of Bruno and made a case for his actions. Caponigro’s second, more perilous mistake was believing that a major crisis would sort itself out.

  Because of Caponigro’s utter failure to acknowledge or deal with the crisis that followed Bruno’s murder, civil war broke out within the Philadelphia crime family. Twenty-eight wiseguys were stabbed, shot, and blown to bits before a temporary truce halted the violence. A short while later, hostilities began again.

  Tony Bananas was bananas.

  DECEMBER 16, 1985. Evening rush hour in midtown Manhattan. Christmas shoppers swarm the streets. A black Lincoln pulls to the curb in front of a steakhouse. Just as two well-dressed men get out of the car, four assassins wearing white trench coats and Russian fur hats approach, firing a hail of bullets. The most powerful Mafia boss and underboss in the country lie dead in pools of blood. The assassins disappear into the crowd.

  The Gambino crime family was in major crisis.

  Any brute can shoot people on the street, but in the hours that followed, John Gotti, the culprit behind the double hit of Paul Castellano and Tommy Bilotti, proved himself to be a master of crisis management.

  Perseus fell upon all his enemies before they knew or even suspected and seized by violence the throne he had won by crime.

  —Livy, A History of Rome

  In all probability, the hit should have resulted in an all-out war within the Gambino family, or a bloody war against the other New York families. The following is how further bloodshed was avoided.

  The Gambino family demanded to know who was behind the hit, as did the other New York families. The Mafia doesn’t like publicity, and every major news source in the country was covering the hit.

  Gotti wasn’t sure he’d be readily accepted by his own family as their new don. Therefore, he recruited a PR person everyone liked: weak, aging, but respected mobster Joe Gallo (no relation to “Crazy Joe” Gallo). Gallo immediately called a meeting with the family capos and assured them that the family was intact. Gotti then sent messages to the other families saying that the Gambinos were investigating the hit themselves, and didn’t need outside help.

  Following the hit on Pope John Paul I in 1978, Vatican officials, suspected of culpability, played the same game as Gotti, telling the Italian government they were investigating the pope’s death themselves, and didn’t need outside help. Whether American mobsters or Roman Curia, Italians trace their philosophy to Machiavelli.

  With the other families on the sidelines awaiting news, Gotti had a small time frame in which to consolidate power within his own family. He had his PR man, Gallo, call a second meeting with the capos. This time, Gallo proposed a vote for the next boss. Gotti was no student of political science, but instinctively relied on an old politburo trick in which everyone mimicked Stalin’s vote—or else. By then, the capos realized who the real culprit was and voted unanimously in favor of Gotti—or else.

  A good step forward, but this was no time to rest—this wasn’t a Boy Scout troop voting on a new leader. These were killers who could still plan a counterstroke.

  Next, Gotti turned potential enemies into friends. By taking over the family, Gotti had moved the center of power from Staten Island and Brooklyn to Queens. To appease bloodthirsty Brooklynites who felt slighted, Gotti appointed charismatic Brooklyn capo Frankie DeCicco as his official underboss. To appease old-timers who viewed Gotti as a young upstart, he appointed elderly and senile mobster Joe Piney as consigliere.

  Gotti also promoted tough wiseguys from key neighborhoods knowing that, in return for high positions, they’d owe him their loyalty.

  Without another drop of blood spilled and before the week was up, members of the Gambino family lined up outside Gotti’s Manhattan headquarters to kiss their new don. The other families, though vexed by Gotti’s actions, were at least satisfied that the Gambino household was in order, and permitted Gotti to carry on as boss.

  At this very same juncture during Caponigro’s coup, fellow mobsters were inserting bills into his ass like a vending machine.

  In the event of a crisis, act fast, appoint PR people to get the right message across, and use aggressive diplomacy. Whether dealing with employees or the public, trade favors to win support. A crisis does not solve itself.

  LESSON 68

  The Power of an Elite Circle: Why the Mob Opens and Closes the Books

  THE Mafia is composed of select men who have mastered the streets and proven their earning ability. Entry into this elite circle is difficult during ordinary times and impossible when the “books” are closed. Although gaining entry has become a little easier today, in years past street guys paid their dues for decades.

  Even if it’s an illusion with more headaches than it’s worth, a group with restricted membership offers people a sense of status. The harder it is to get into an elite circle, the harder people will try.

  Yacht clubs and country clubs work on the same premise as the Mob: money and connections are required for entry. And everyone is dying to get in. Or, in the Mob’s case, killing to get in.

  Rao’s is the hardest restaurant to get into in Manhattan. The food is no better than any other top Italian restaurant in the city, but Rao’s waiting list is much longer.

  A table at Rao’s? Forgetaboutit.

  —The New York Times

  Why? Rao’s has made a habit of denying people entry. And they really don’t give a shit who you are. In fact, the more important you are, the more they enjoy saying no.

  Part owner Frank “Frankie No” Pellegrino got his nickname from turning people away. All customers, including celebrities, wait weeks, sometimes months, for a reservation. Rao’s is a small restaurant, with only ten tables. By allowing in a limited clientele, Rao’s has translated the concept of an elite circle into the restaurant business—and everyone is dying to get in, even mobsters, plenty of whom are also turned away.

  They don’t let you in for nothing. They don’t care if they never let you in. They got to keep it exclusive or it gets loose.

  —Joseph Luparelli, Colombo family associate involved in the murder of “Crazy Joe” Gallo

  Chicago boss Anthony Accardo was married to a woman named Clarice. Accardo’s daily life rubbed off on Clarice and she decided to start her own elite circle, “The Vodka Club.”

  The Vodka Club was a select group of women, all wives of high-ranking mobsters. The group got together and played cards, gossiped, and, as the name suggests, drank. Members paid monthly dues and used the kitty to pay for vacations. The wife of every hoodlum in Chicago wanted to b
e a member. I can only wonder how many Mafia wives pushed their husbands to commit bigger crimes and rise in the family, only to gain entrance for them into the Vodka Club.

  In business, a boss can create a “top sellers circle” or the like. Every good salesman will give that extra push to get in, and stay in.

  You can get creative when establishing an elite circle and turn a gimmick into big profits. Just keep it on the up-and-up, and make sure it serves a genuine purpose.

  LESSON 69

  Give the Spic Bastard a Call!: Hiring the Best Person, Regardless of Race, Creed, or Sexual Orientation

  IN 1924, a hijacker named Joe Howard made an anti-Semitic remark to a Jewish thug named Jake Guzik. Al Capone heard about the remark and shot Howard six times in front of witnesses.

  A few years before Capone defended Guzik over that ethnic slur, he married an Irish girl named Mae Coughlin. Mixed matches were uncommon back then. Italians usually married their own. In fact, Capone began a liberal tradition in the Chicago Mob that allowed Jews, Greeks, blacks, even a Welshman into the Outfit, and they all turned out to be big earners.

  We got Jews, we got Polacks, we got Greeks, we got all kinds.

  —Chicago mobster Jackie Cerone

  In the 1930s, while the American South was denying blacks equal rights, future Louisiana Mob boss Carlos Marcello named his first pub The Brown Bomber, after the African-American boxing champion Joe Louis.

  While Capone was welcoming non-Italians into Chicago’s underworld and Marcello was glorifying a black fighter in bigot country, the New York Mafia was struggling with the question of allowing other ethnicities into the fold. The hard-liners, led by Salvatore Maranzano, distrusted non-Italians and banned business relations with outsiders. The progressives, led by “Lucky” Luciano, insisted that racial and religious prejudice was sheer ignorance that would deny the Mafia scores of talented men.