As if the growing rift between Bruno and his underboss, Philip Testa, wasn’t bad enough, Bruno began to have problems with Little Nicky Scarfo in Atlantic City, as Scarfo grew more powerful and ambitious.
When they announced that the casinos were coming to Atlantic City, my uncle went to Philadelphia and had a sit-down with Ange to put it on record that he wanted Frank Gerace to run Local 54, which was the main union that was organizing hotel and restaurant workers in Atlantic City. This was going to the biggest moneymaker yet, better than bookmaking and loan sharking. If we controlled the union, we controlled the union’s money, which meant we would have access to millions of dollars at any given time.
Frank Gerace was a bartender, and he was always around. His mother lived in one of the apartments on Georgia Avenue in our building. Now when my uncle went to Philly about the unions, no one else had gone on record about it, which means it should have directly gone to us, without any interference. You have to remember, by this time my uncle had been the only made guy in Atlantic City for more than ten years since Skinny Razor died, so he felt entitled to the unions, and he was right. They should have gone to us, no questions asked.
But what Ange did, he told my uncle, “Nick, let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.” Now this is what my uncle did to him on the Phil Testa thing and now Ange was kind of giving it back to him. I remember driving back to Atlantic City after the meeting and my uncle wasn’t happy, but we never discussed business in the car. When we got back to Atlantic City we went to Scannicchio’s for dinner. The owner, Vince Sausto, was a good friend of ours and he always took good care of us. Sometimes I’d go there for lunch and I’d end up eating lunch and dinner, staying for hours, talking and laughing with Vince. He was a great guy and a terrific friend. He was the absolute best. Vince was also an insurance agent and we had used his office to take the statement from the guy in the Pepe Leva case.
But on this night, following his meeting with Angelo Bruno regarding control of the unions in Atlantic City, Nicky Scarfo wasn’t in the mood for laughing and joking.
My uncle said, “If this cocksucker, Lefty, tries to throw us a curve with this union business, there’s going to be resistance and we ain’t backin’ down.”
Now in all the years that I had been around my uncle, I had never once heard him curse Angelo Bruno. This was the first time. His colors changed, he really went in on him. You have to remember, Ange was the boss and my uncle was all about La Cosa Nostra, the rules. The boss was the boss, and that’s it. You never questioned the boss, you never talked subversive about the boss. If you did, you’d be killed. Those were the rules and my uncle lived by those rules, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. That’s how committed he was to La Cosa Nostra. I remember saying, “Yeah, but what can we do, he’s the boss,” and my uncle’s response was “Not all of our friends are happy with Lefty.”
Nicky Scarfo knew from his conversations with Genovese power broker Bobby Manna that Bruno’s consigliere, Antonio “Tony Bananas” Caponigro, the family’s North Jersey boss, was starting to question the effectiveness of Bruno’s leadership.
Manna didn’t learn this from Caponigro himself, as Caponigro—aware of Manna’s close relationship with Scarfo—circumvented Manna and spoke directly to another powerful, old-school Genovese mobster named Frank “Funzi” Tieri he thought that he could trust.
Tieri relayed everything that Caponigro was telling him to both Manna and Vincent “The Chin” Gigante, the soon-to-be boss of the Genovese family. Tieri, Manna, and Gigante saw a major opportunity for the Genovese family when Caponigro started putting out feelers regarding a change in leadership should something unfortunate happen to Angelo Bruno.
Ange had aligned the Philly mob with the Gambinos. Ange had been very close to Carlo Gambino and when he died, Ange became close with his successor, Paul Castellano.
Philadelphia occupied a seat on the Commission and under Bruno Philadelphia was essentially a proxy vote for the Gambinos. If Bruno was eliminated and Caponigro succeeded him, Caponigro had assured Tieri that Philadelphia’s proxy vote would go to the Genovese, tipping the balance of power on the Commission in favor of the Genovese.
The problem for Caponigro was that Bobby Manna had solicited similar information from Nicky Scarfo regarding the underboss Philip Testa.
Bobby Manna asked us to come see him in Hoboken. It was me, my uncle, Chuckie, and Bobby. We went to Casella’s, a restaurant where Bobby did some of his business. While we were eating, Bobby asked my uncle, he said, “Nick, if God forbid something were to happen to Angelo and Phil Testa were to succeed him, I’d like to know where we would stand with your family.” My uncle responded to him in Italian and said, “Una familia,” which means, one family.
My uncle was basically telling him that should something happen to Ange and Phil Testa was named boss, that Philadelphia would align themselves with the Genovese. I remember Bobby saying, “My friends are going to be very happy to hear that.”
The friends Manna referred to were the other members of Vincent “The Chin” Gigante’s inner circle who were on the verge of assuming control of not only the Genovese crime family, but had their eye on a much bigger prize: control of the Commission, the governing body of La Cosa Nostra.
My uncle said to him, “Tell this guy,” and he touched his chin, that’s how we referenced Gigante, “that we know who our friends are and that’s something we never forget.” Bobby nodded and smiled and patted my uncle on the hand.
The ambitious Genovese mobsters, led by Bobby Manna and his boss, Vincent “The Chin” Gigante, were now in a powerful position, having assurances from Bruno’s underboss and consigliere that should something happen to Bruno, Philadelphia would become their proxy vote.
Antonio Caponigro’s top lieutenant in the North Jersey faction of the Bruno mob was Ralph “Blackie” Napoli, the same Blackie Napoli who used to walk the track at Yardville State prison with Bobby Manna and Nicky Scarfo. Manna knew that should something unfortunate happen to Caponigro, that Blackie Napoli would take over North Jersey and that the Genovese could influence him and, in essence, insert themselves into a position of power over the Bruno family’s vast North Jersey operation, which included a thriving multimillion dollar gambling and loan-sharking business that the powerful Caponigro controlled with an iron fist.
This Machiavellian plot of treachery made both Angelo Bruno and Antonio Caponigro expendable to forward-thinking mafiosi like Funzi Tieri, Bobby Manna, and his boss Vincent “The Chin” Gigante. To them, the Brunos, the Caponigros, and the Napolis were pieces on one big La Cosa Nostra chessboard.
Now around this time Ange gets back to my uncle on what he wants to do with the unions in Atlantic City and just like my uncle predicted he throws us a curveball. He tells us that he wants to put John McCullough, who is with the roofers union in Philadelphia, and Ralph Natale, who is in the bartenders union out of Camden, in place to organize the hotel, restaurant, and casino workers in Atlantic City, ultimately shutting my uncle out. Chickie Narducci was very close with McCullough and this was another example of what he and Ange were up to. Their greed knew no end. Typical siggy shit. Now what they don’t know is that it’s easy to control a local, but if you want real power with a union, you have to control or have influence over the national. And when my uncle talked to Ange about the unions in Atlantic City, what he didn’t tell him was that he had also talked to Bobby Manna because the Chin and the Genovese family were calling the shots. So there was absolutely no way for my uncle to lose, but Ange and Narducci didn’t know this. Ange thought if he put his local in there that was it. But the Genovese were backing my uncle.
By the end of 1979, Angelo Bruno had no idea what was happening around him. While he and Chickie Narducci were trying to box out Phil Testa in South Philadelphia and now Nicky Scarfo in Atlantic City, he had no clue what was in store for him in 1980.
The Big Shot Is Dead
AS 1980 APPROACHED THINGS IN AND AROUND ATLANT
IC CITY WERE STARTING TO HEAT UP FOR NICKY SCARFO AND HIS GANG.
After we killed Judge Helfant, there was a lot of heat on us in Atlantic City. Our names and pictures started appearing in the newspaper and everyone knew who we were. My uncle couldn’t have been happier. He loved the publicity. There was this local radio talk show host named Mike Sherman who started calling me Crazy Phil. I hated the nickname, but my uncle said, “Are you kidding? Guys would pay money for a name like that.”
Around this time Philip Leonetti’s partnership with Vince Bancheri ended, and he and his uncle formed their own concrete company and named it Scarf, Inc.
Our office was on the ground floor of our building at 28 North Georgia Avenue in Atlantic City. My cousin Chris, who was my uncle’s oldest son, came to work for Scarf, Inc. He was totally legit and never involved in anything connected to La Cosa Nostra. Him and my uncle would constantly argue about everything. They fought like cats and dogs.
Despite all of the heat on Nicky Scarfo and Philip Leonetti, Scarf, Inc. was able to secure site work on four casino projects that were being built in Atlantic City, including the short-lived Playboy Casino and what would eventually become Harrah’s in the Marina District.
And Little Nicky and his nephew Crazy Phil weren’t the only gangsters moonlighting as contractors. The Merlino brothers, trusted members of Scarfo’s inner-circle formed a rebar company called Nat Nat and they too were doing site work on several casino projects.
Chuckie and Lawrence started Nat Nat right around this time and they worked out of the same office we used for Scarf, Inc. Every day it was the same crew hanging around Georgia Avenue waiting to speak to my uncle, or waiting to speak to me so that I would speak to my uncle for them. It would be me and Lawrence, the Blade, Saul Kane, my cousins Chris and Nicky Jr., and a couple of other guys. If Chuckie was down from Philly he’d be there, usually with his son Little Joey and Phil Testa’s son Salvie. I always got along with Chuckie, but I never liked his son. He was a fresh kid and I always thought he was no good. Him and Nicky Jr. were the same age and they used to hang together with Lawrence’s kids. Me and Salvie were very close. I had known him my whole life. What my uncle was doing with me, teaching me about La Cosa Nostra, Salvie’s dad was doing with him.
This included learning not only the rules, but learning how to become a killer as well.
Right after we killed Judge Helfant, my uncle went to Phil Testa and Angelo Bruno and told them he wanted to kill a guy in South Philadelphia named Mickey Coco who had sold drugs to the son of Frank Monte, who was a made guy and had been close with my uncle since they were kids. Drugs were against the rules and my uncle detested drug dealers.
That ruffled a lot of feathers with the old-timers that my uncle would come up to South Philadelphia and tell the boss and the underboss that they needed to kill a guy in their own backyard, in South Philadelphia. We were killing all of these guys in Atlantic City and everyone in the mob knew it. They knew we weren’t playing around, that we were gangsters. But on the Mickey Coco hit, my uncle was basically telling Ange and Phil Testa, “This guy’s selling drugs to the son of a member of this family. He’s breaking the rules of La Cosa Nostra; he’s gotta go. He needs to be killed and you guys shouldn’t need me to come up from Atlantic City, 60 miles away and tell you when it’s time do a killing.” What he was saying, basically, was that this is how gangsters act: pay attention.
Reports of Scarfo’s moxie regarding ordering the hit on Mickey Coco began to circulate in neighborhood bars and social clubs in South Philadelphia, Newark, and on Mulberry Street in New York’s Little Italy, just like it had after Scarfo whacked out crooked Judge Eddie Helfant.
There was no doubt about it: Angelo Bruno was a racketeer; Nicky Scarfo was the gangster.
Following Scarfo’s lead, the plan to execute Michael “Mickey Coco” Cifelli began to take form and would manifest itself on a cold day in January when Salvatore “Chuckie” Merlino and Salvatore “Salvie” Testa, both wearing ski masks and carrying handguns, entered a neighborhood bar at the corner of Tenth and Wolf in South Philadelphia and shot Cifelli at point-blank range as he sat at the bar, sipping a beer and waiting to meet with Bobby Lumio, a Scarfo associate who was conveniently talking on a pay phone when the masked gunmen entered the bar.
My uncle wanted Chuckie to be one of the shooters because he had proposed him for membership into La Cosa Nostra, and in order to be made, you had to be 100-percent Italian and you had to have participated in a murder.
Philip Testa wanted Salvie to be the other shooter because, like my uncle was doing with Chuckie, Phil Testa was proposing Salvie for membership. My uncle had also proposed Bobby Lumio for membership for his role in setting Mickey Coco up.
As Nicky Scarfo became more of a force in La Cosa Nostra, he started to distance himself from members of his Atlantic City crew that he thought were dead weight.
Two men who fit that description were Alfredo Ferraro and Vincent Falcone, both of whom had been trusted members of Nicky Scarfo’s gang since the early ’70s.
My uncle decided he didn’t want either of them around us anymore. He would say things like, “These two guys are useless,” or “These two guys are holding us back.” He grew to detest both of them.
What happened next is vintage Nicky Scarfo.
Now Alfredo and Vince were the best of friends. They were Italian, but they came to the United States from Argentina and they came over together.
They were very close these two. So my uncle decided that he wanted to kill Alfredo and he wanted Vince to be the shooter. Now if Vince doesn’t kill Alfredo, my uncle will have him killed and then we’d kill Alfredo anyway. It’s like killing two birds with one stone. So my uncle gives Vince the order to kill Alfredo and right away Vince is dogging it, making up excuses. Alfredo must have started getting vibes and he just disappears, he stops coming into Atlantic City. We stopped seeing him. But one night Vince is out drinking with Alfredo, and Chuckie and Lawrence bump into them, and they both get drunk and they tell Chuckie and Lawrence that my uncle is crazy and that we shouldn’t be in the concrete business.
A few days later, my uncle and Chuckie end up going on vacation together to Italy and while they are there, Chuckie tells my uncle what Vince and Alfredo had said about us. My uncle told Chuckie, “When we get back I’m gonna whack ’em both.”
And so begins the plan to kill Vincent Falcone.
My uncle never really liked Vince; he didn’t think he was cut out for La Cosa Nostra. My uncle would say about Vince and Alfredo, “They are not meant for this thing,” meaning La Cosa Nostra, this thing of ours. Now Alfredo had stopped coming around. He even stopped doing business in Atlantic City with his concrete company. And even though my uncle wanted to kill him, it wasn’t a top priority at the time. But now with Vince Falcone not following orders and then talking subversive to Chuckie and Lawrence about me and my uncle, my uncle became obsessed with killing him. He used to call Vince, “the Big Shot” when he spoke about killing him. He’d say things like, “We’re gonna show the Big Shot who’s in charge,” and things like that. Vince had been around long enough to know how my uncle was and I think he knew that we were going to kill him, so like Alfredo did, Vince stopped coming around.
Now at the time, Vince was married, but he was seeing a young girl who lived on Georgia Avenue right across the street from us. The girl’s name was Maria, and she and her family had moved from South Philadelphia to Ducktown, just like we had. She was a beautiful young Italian girl with dark hair and a pretty face.
Now when Vince would pick her up or drop her off, he would never drive down Georgia Avenue because he knew we wanted to kill him.
I used to tell her that Vince was no good and that she should stop seeing him, but she was young and she didn’t listen to me. There was something special about that girl, even back then I felt it.
But not every murder had to take place right away. Some were business, like the Louie DeMarco and Pepe Leva murders, and some w
ere more personal like the Judge Helfant killing. To Nicky Scarfo, killing the Big Shot, Vincent Falcone, had become personal and just like he did with Judge Helfant, Scarfo set out to lull Falcone into a comfort zone and then kill him when he least expected it.
Now around this time a position opens up in the concrete union and my uncle puts the word out that he wants Vince Falcone to get it. This was a big deal and something that Vince had always wanted. So my uncle sets the trap and Vince goes for it. My uncle is acting like everything is fine, and now Vince starts coming around Georgia Avenue again. We are playing along like nothing ever happened. Me, Chuckie, Lawrence, the Blade—and Vince is doing the same because he really wants to be the boss of the concrete union. Now at this time Alfredo isn’t around anymore, and Vince is hanging with a kid from South Philadelphia named Joe Salerno, who was a plumber.
Joe Salerno had borrowed $10,000 from me and my uncle and was paying us two and half points (or $250 per week) in interest on top of the $10,000 he owed us. It was a standard juice loan and at the time we were doing a lot of loan sharking. Every week I’d go out and pick up envelopes or guys would come to the office. Everybody paid because they knew our reputation. These types of loans were our bread and butter.
With the holidays approaching and the promise of a new job waiting for him in the New Year, Vincent Falcone thought he had a lot to look forward to.
Mafia Prince: Inside America's Most Violent Crime Family Page 8