Top Hoodlum

by Anthony M. DeStefano

  As it turned out, writer Peter Maas, who had penned with Valachi the informant’s story known as The Valachi Papers, was interested in Costello and the story he could tell. Fresh off his latest literary project, Serpico, about honest NYPD cop Frank Serpico, Maas had approached Costello, sending out feelers, prodding him. The two men engaged in a long literary courtship over a period of about five months beginning around June 1972 before Costello expressed more interest. As Maas later told The New York Times, Costello finally paid a visit to the author’s Manhattan apartment on December 1, 1972, and for three hours both men talked.

  “I told him that he was a legitimate figure in American history, and I meant it,” Maas said. “There isn’t a level of society that his career didn’t touch.”

  Costello returned for more talks on December 12 and according to Maas wanted to talk—off the record—about what could be in the book. That meeting was the start of weekly meetings into late January 1973. Maas never commented about what precisely both he and Costello talked about. But after Maas died in 2001, his papers were sent to Columbia University and in one of the files is a three-page memo that outlined what Maas believed the book should contain.

  As Maas envisioned things, the book would be in the third person and would be an extensive look at Costello’s life, from his days in East Harlem, Prohibition, the formative days of the Mafia, and politics. Maas also wanted to draw out Costello about his relationships with mobsters like Anastasia, Adonis, Lanksy, and Luciano. Maas seemed to have enormous respect for Costello and considered him a man’s man. Maas knew that Costello would be asked to give a lot in the project and whether he could do it was something only he could answer. Based on his experience writing The Valachi Papers, Maas was in a good position to deal with much of the history involved in Costello’s life since so much would be familiar.

  As the book deal came closer to reality, Maas and Costello agreed to do the interviews at the old gangster’s Sands Point home. It was the setting Costello always felt comfortable with, the one closest to the life toward which he had aspired. Finally, Costello sent word that he wanted to do the project, just as he landed in the hospital with heart trouble. Costello had had problems with his heart ever since he was in prison in the 1950s and now at the age of eighty-three his physical reserve was no longer what it once was. On the morning of February 18, Maas got a call at home from Charles “The Blade” Tourine, an old Genovese crime family member who had been active in the casinos and for a time lived near Central Park.

  “He’s gone,” Tourine said about Costello.

  Frank Costello had died that morning of a heart attack at Doctors Hospital with Loretta by his bedside. Along with Costello, Maas’s book project went to a final resting place in St. Michael’s Cemetery.

  EPILOGUE

  THE WAKE FOR FRANK COSTELLO was a low-key affair at the Frank E. Campbell funeral home on Madison Avenue. Reporters were allowed inside the Williamsburg Room but were asked not to approach any of the mourners, who didn’t show up in great numbers anyway. Loretta sat quietly during visitation with a lady friend. Nearby were her brother Dudley Geigerman and Philip Kennedy, the modeling agency executive who was with Costello the night he was shot by Vincent Gigante in 1957. A priest was also around and talked with some of the assembled.

  Costello lay in an open walnut casket, dressed in a dark blue business suit. Loretta had apparently put out the word that she didn’t want a lot of flowers, perhaps as an accommodation to her Jewish heritage, which didn’t call for the profusion of floral displays commonly seen at Italian funerals. There were just what was described as a bank of white orchids, red roses, and white gladioli covering the foot of the casket. Around the casket were some floral displays of chrysanthemums, pom-poms, yellow roses, and gladioli.

  The funeral was nothing like the old Mafia spectacles of the past. No long lines of limousines carried the mourners. There were no flower cars. Reporters and cameramen seemed as plentiful as those attending the rites, although on this morning no media was allowed inside. About 50 to 100 people showed up at Campbell’s for the final good-bye the morning of February 21, notably restaurateur Toots Shor. The service lasted about five minutes, with a priest reciting a short prayer. Only about fifteen people traveled to St. Michael’s Cemetery.

  A motorcade of the hearse, two limousines, and about a half dozen private cars made the trip over the Queensboro Bridge to Astoria where workmen at St. Michael’s Cemetery had readied the mausoleum. Once inside the cemetery gate, the cars had only a short distance to go to the final resting place. The casket was taken from the hearse and placed in a protective metal liner and set between the Ionic pillars flanking the bronze door. As Loretta, her eyes shielded by sunglasses and with her brother Dudley next to her, looked on mournfully, a young priest made the sign of the cross and said a prayer. Then the mourners, one by one, placed a red carnation at the foot of the casket.

  It was as simple as that. The final rite for Costello, a man who had risen from an impoverished family to lead the underworld and capture the imagination of the nation, was over in minutes. There was no large crowd, no funeral spectacle. Loretta was helped back into a limousine by her brother. Then the cemetery workers went to work. Writer Paul Schreiber of Newsday captured the poignant details of those final moments as Costello’s casket went into the crypt to join his father, mother, and sisters.

  “Soon the workmen began wrestling the coffin into the mausoleum scattering the carnations. Some of them were crushed,” said Schreiber.

  In the days and months after Costello’s death, Loretta had to clean up the legal messes that still followed them. Although Costello had paid his debt to society with prison, he still left debts to the IRS, things that his wife had to take care of. The government had claimed there was at least $547,000 in unreported income from 1941 through 1950, on top of which the government slapped fraud penalties and interest. Because she filed a joint return, Loretta had some responsibility for about $153,000 of the undeclared income, which she somehow had to settle with the government. The Sands Point house was sold by late 1975 and no doubt some of the profits went to pay off the government. Costello’s practice of dealing in cash, placing assets in the names of others, and not keeping books and records all caught up to him and Loretta in the end. The Central Park West apartment was sold for $50,000, with virtually all of it going to the IRS.

  With her brothers in New Orleans, Loretta moved down to Louisiana to be close to her family. She took a small apartment, which she tastefully furnished with a lot of photographs, fine furniture, and mirrors. As she grew older, friends and relatives said she still retained her looks. After she died Loretta was entombed in the mausoleum in 1988, her body placed in a niche right beneath Frank’s. Loretta had been deeply hurt by the way Frank kept the other woman, Thelma Martin, in his life and the public way it was revealed during the tax trial. But Loretta also knew that for men like her husband, those kinds of relationships came with the territory. She accepted it and went on.

  Frank Costello remains one of the most important figures in the history of the American Mafia for a variety of reasons. But in my mind what makes him preeminent among the old gangsters of that Golden Era of organized crime was the way he strived to pass as legitimate—and almost succeeded. Had Costello not lived his later years with a bullseye on his back from law enforcement and politicians, he might have been able to shake off the old taint of the mob and live like the businessman he always fancied himself to be. Costello once confided to his trusted attorney George Wolf that he always had secret dreams of better things but that he “spit” on his life, which ironically in the end had given him all he accomplished.

  The late novelist and playwright Santha Rama Rau, who met Costello during a lunch at the Waldorf and became his friend, noted years after his death with a sense of understatement that “I had a very strong feeling he wanted a different kind of life than the one he lived.” Rau was an unlikely acquaintance for Costello, given her success as a writer noted f
or her adaptation to the stage of E.M. Forester’s A Passage to India. She found Costello a fascinating character despite his notoriety. Yet, like it or not, the life he lived gave Costello his legacy.

  Had Costello morphed into complete legitimacy, he certainly might have lived his life without all the trouble which beset him. But what we know as the history of the Mafia would have been so much different. He had fame, he had charisma, all despite the fact that he was impoverished in terms of schooling that left him, as one official said, “retarded educationally.” He made the cover of Time and Newsweek magazines and caused a buzz whenever he walked into the best restaurants. He also escaped physical violence, something that befell many of his criminal colleagues. Not a bad ending for a grade-school dropout. No other statesman of La Cosa Nostra ever really emerged like Costello during his day. It is a safe bet that none ever will.

  NOTES

  Chapter One, “Come to America”

  Much of the early family history of the Castiglia family comes from materials compiled by Noel Castiglia, a first cousin twice removed of Frank Costello, who shared it with the author. Italian author Rossana Del Zio gave the author a brief tutorial about the great Italian Risorgimento during one of her visits to the United States in 2017. Historian Robert Golden, who is of Italian heritage, shared with me his knowledge of Marchioness Laura Serra, the founder of the Castiglia ancestral home of Lauropoli. Golden also shared with me the contents of correspondence he had with Costello’s old friend Frank Rizzo, also of Lauropoli. George Wolf and Joseph DiMona’s book Frank Costello: Prime Minister of the Underworld, was the source of information and quotes about Costello’s petty criminal activity. Noel Castiglia was the source of information about the Polly the parrot episode and the growth of the Westport stone house and farm. Information about Giousue Gallucci and Pasquarella Spinelli, their lives, criminal careers, and deaths, came from contemporary newspaper accounts in The New York Times, The Herald Tribune and The Sun, as well as Mike Dash’s The First Family: Terror, Extortion, Revenge, Murder and The Birth of the American Mafia. Giuseppe Selvaggi’s The Rise of the Mafia in New York, contains references to Costello’s early days on the street in East Harlem. FBI files contained some information about the early days of the Castiglia family in New York while The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano by Martin Gosch and Richard Hammer was the source of information about Luciano’s early ties to Costello.

  Chapter Two, No More Guns, Thank You

  The sources of information in this chapter included recollections of Noel Castiglia and his experiences with having his ancestral background traced through Ancestry.com. The early history of the Jews in Italian government came from reports found on Wikipedia, as can the anti-immigrant statements of Henry Gannett and Theodore Bingham. Costello’s early courtship of Loretta Geigerman was related to the author in part during interviews with Cindy Miller, her old friend, while Costello’s comments about his wife are found in Wolf’s book Frank Costello: Prime Minister of the Underworld. Information about Costello’s wedding is contained in Wolf’s Frank Costello, as well as in FBI files. Costello’s early criminal cases are found in records unearthed as part of the government’s attempt to cancel his U.S. citizenship. Wolf also described in Frank Costello his client’s remarks about his early crimes and his aversion to carrying a firearm following his conviction in 1915. Wolf also described Costello’s involvement with Henry Horowitz in the novelty business.

  Chapter Three, The Boom of Prohibition

  Information about the genesis of Prohibition in the U.S. and the anti-immigrant nexus can be found on the website of Kristen Kuo and Chi Chi Nwodah titled Prohibition found at nationalprohibition. weebly.com/immigrants.html. Prohibition history can also be found on the website American Spirits: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition. The bootlegging dealings and corruption allegations of George Remus are found in articles in The New York Times. Luciano’s recollections of his early days in bootlegging with Costello and others appears in Gosch’s The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano. Wolf’s Frank Costello contains information about Costello’s early forays in bootlegging, as do articles in The New York Times. J.P. Andrieux’s book Over the Side, has information about the role of the French possessions in the smuggling of liquor into the U.S. during Prohibition. Wolf in Frank Costello has descriptions of Costello’s early dealings with Arnold Rothstein, as does David Pietrusza in Rothstein: The Life and Times, and Murder of the Criminal Genius Who Fixed the 1919 World Series. Robert Carse in Rum Row: The Liquor Fleet That Kept America Wet and Fueled the Roaring Twenties has good descriptions of the impact of Prohibition on some Long Island communities and the Coast Guard vessels used to hunt bootleggers. Leonard Katz in Uncle Frank, describes the early liquor exchange on the streets of New York. Wolf in Frank Costello details Costello’s day-to-day operations of the bootlegging business. Also consulted were stories in The New York Times.

  Chapter Four, Whiskey Royalty

  The details of the life of George Remus are found in articles from The New York Times. Jimmy Breslin’s book Damon Runyon: A Life had details of Broadway life during Prohibition. Details of Emanuel Kessler’s bootlegging operation can be found in The New York Times while his statements about his and Costello’s interactions are found in federal court files in the case brought by the U.S. government to revoke Costello’s citizenship: case Civil 133-28, United States District Court for The Southern District of New York. The story about Costello’s hiring of Frank Rizzo as an accountant is related in Wolf’s Frank Costello. Albert Feldman’s recollections about the Astoria homes used by Costello for smuggling and Costello’s use of a handgun to threaten people are found Civil 133-28, (SDNY) cited previously. Details of the Blackwell Mansion operation were found in Kessler’s previously cited testimony, as well as stories in The New York Times, The New York Tribune, New York Evening Telegram, The Brooklyn Daily Eagle and The Daily Star (Queens). William Dwyer’s personal history and life as a sportsman and bootlegger are found in The New York Times.

  Chapter Five, A Woman Scorned

  The story and life of Annie Fuhrmann and her husband Hans is found in numerous articles from the period published in The Brooklyn Daily Eagle. The New York Times also ran some stories about the Fuhrmanns. Articles from The New York Times and The Brooklyn Daily Eagle described the violence inherent in the bootlegging racket. The Irving Wexler criminal case is described The New York Times.

  Chapter Six, “The Greatest Roundup”

  The arrests of William V. Dwyer, Frank Costello, and others in December 1925 is described in articles in The New York Times and The Brooklyn Daily Eagle. Testimony about wiretapping done at Costello’s offices is found in Civil Case 113-28, previously cited. Costello’s affidavit as well as that of C. Hunter Carpenter are in the file of Criminal Case C-44-488, United States District Court, Southern District of New York (1925). Details of the indictment, arraignment and preliminary court proceedings involving the case against Dwyer, Costello, and the other defendants were reported in The New York Times. The death of Hans Fuhrmann was reported in The New York Times and The Brooklyn Daily Eagle.

  Chapter Seven, “King of the Bootleggers”

  The opening statements, trial testimony, summations, as well as the verdict in the case of U.S. v. William Dwyer et.al. was reported in depth in The New York Times and The Daily News. Biographical material about Bruce Bielaski is contained on the web site of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, as well as in stories reported by The New York Times.

  Chapter Eight, “Personally, I Got Drunk”

  Wolf in Frank Costello, discussed some of the early moments in the bootlegging trial of Frank and Edward Costello. The trial was covered from opening statements, testimony, summations, verdict, and mistrial by The New York Times and The Daily News. The post-verdict activity of Costello was found in Wolf’s Frank Costello while the controversy over Bielaski and his undercover operations was detailed in The New York Times. Noel Castiglia provided information about Costello’s travels to the Stone Hous
e in Westport, Connecticut. Tom Cognato provided the author details of Lucky Luciano’s frustrated attempt to buy a doll for a little girl.

  Chapter Nine, The Great Bloodletting

  William V. Dwyer’s travails with the IRS and his financial ruin were detailed in The New York Times. The history of what became known as the Castellammarese War can be found in DeStefano’s Gangland New York: The Places and Faces of Mob History, as well as Selwyn Rabb’s The Five Families and Peter Maas’s The Valachi Papers. All three books detail some of the history of the various participants in the war, such as Al Capone, Frankie Yale, Johnny Torrio, Joseph Masseria, and Salvatore Maranzano. Nelson Johnson’s book Boardwalk Empire details the way “Nucky” Johnson controlled Atlantic City and described events leading up to the “Seven Group” meeting of mobsters in that city in 1929. The substance of the Atlantic City meeting is described by Wolf in Frank Costello, while Capone’s May 1929 arrest in Philadelphia and his statements to police were reported in detail in The New York Times.

  Chapter Ten, “The Most Menacing Evil”

  The finding of the Wickersham Commission and the repeal of Prohibition in 1933 were reported in The New York Times. Wolf in Frank Costello detailed how Costello got into the slot machine business in New York City. Fiorello La Guardia’s political career and rise to win the mayoralty are described in Alyn Brodsky’s The Great Mayor: Fiorello La Guardia and the Making of the City of New York. La Guardia’s battle with Costello over slot machines is detailed in The New York Times. Huey Long’s life story can not only be found on Wikipedia but in numerous articles and books, notably T. Harry Williams’s Huey Long. Long’s drunken episode in Sands Point was reported in The New York Times. Long and Costello’s relationship over slot machines was recounted by Costello in his 1951 Senate testimony, as well as during his earlier trial for tax evasion, in which he was acquitted. The relationship between Costello and Phil Kastel can be found in Costello’s 1951 Senate testimony and in a decision by the United States Tax Court in Philip Kastel v. Commissioner (1945). Katz’s Uncle Frank was also consulted for details about Kastel. The business organization, ownership, and operations of Bayou Novelty Co. are described in Kastel v. Commissioner. The history of the Beverly casino and club are detailed in a web article at www.bestofneworleans.com. The biography of “Diamond Jim” Brocato was related to the author by his grandson Joseph Brocato and contained in a short film about him titled “In Nomine Patris: The Story of Diamond Jim Moran,” produced by his late son Dr. Robert Maestri Brocato.