Amico had a right to be suspicious. Unbeknownst to him, Bennett had met privately with Patriarca and promised the Mafia boss that he had nothing to fear from him, that Wimpy would not make a move against the Office. Wimpy Bennett’s treachery was not the only double-cross in play. Guy Frizzi, Barboza’s disgruntled former partner in crime, had also sold his soul to the other side. He recruited another hood named Louis Grieco to lure Patsy Fabiano, who was free on bail, into an ambush in Revere. Grieco had been a bona fide hero during World War II, having seen combat in the Philippines, where he was awarded a Bronze Star and Purple Heart. Grieco survived the war but nearly lost his leg to a gunshot wound. The injury placed him on permanent disability when he returned to the states, where Grieco made his money repossessing automobiles for banks before beginning a more lucrative career in the mob. Together, Grieco and Frizzi made a formidable pair.
Patsy Fabiano would not have stood a chance in a firefight against either man, and fortunately he didn’t have to. Unlike Tashi Bratsos and Tommy DePrisco, Fabiano could tell when a trap was being set. He had originally agreed to accompany Bratsos and DePrisco to their ill-fated meeting at the Nite Lite Café but had pulled out at the last minute. A few days later, after agreeing to meet Frizzi in Revere, Fabiano decided to drive by and case the rendezvous spot about an hour before the scheduled meeting time. Upon spotting Grieco there lying in wait, Patsy pressed his foot against the gas pedal and took off. Frizzi and Grieco tried to give chase but they never caught up with Fabiano. Patsy kept a low profile following the incident and had implored his friend Chico Amico to do the same. Chico would not listen. He figured that he would always be looking over his shoulder for Larry Baione, so he decided that it was best to strike first. On December 7, 1966, Amico and his friend Jimmy Kearns walked into a bellydancing club called Enrico’s, which was owned by Baione. Their target was nowhere to be found, but Chico did spot one of Baione’s relatives. He walked up to the man and slapped him hard across the face. “That’s for Larry,” Chico told him. Amico had grown sick and tired of chasing Baione all over town. Tonight, he would initiate the confrontation. He mentioned to those in the bar that he and Kearns were headed to Alphonse’s Broken-Hearts Lounge in Revere. When Amico and Kearns got into their car, a phone call was made from Enrico’s to Alphonse’s.
Chico arrived at the second location expecting a bloodbath. He entered the bar and kept one hand in his pocket and his fingers on his gun. But no one paid any attention to Amico and Kearns as they sat at the bar and sipped their drinks. Guy Frizzi sat at the other end of the bar and refused to look up his former friends. Finally, about fifteen minutes later, Chico decided to leave. He would have to bring the fight to Baione some other night. As Amico and Kearns entered the parking lot, someone inside the bar walked over to the window, pushed aside the curtains, and rapped hard on the glass. The man then walked back to the bar and raised his drink in a toast. “Well, that’s the last you’ll see of Chico,” he said proudly. Frizzi, who had introduced Chico to Barboza years before, raised his own glass in salute.
As Amico and Kearns drove away, they were followed by another car with Wisconsin plates. Inside the car was an East Boston Mafiosi named J. R. Russo, who was armed with a carbine. Russo rolled down the window and leaned out with the weapon pointed at the back of Jimmy Kearns’s car. The young Mafiosi fired one shot through the back window. His aim was perfect, and the bullet struck Chico in the back of his head, killing him instantly. The kill shot did not exit through the front of Amico’s skull; instead it pushed his eyes forward out of their sockets, giving him a look in death that resembled a Chuck Jones cartoon character. Russo fired another shot that struck Kearns, who was driving, in the back. Despite the injury, Jimmy Kearns kept his hands on the steering wheel until he finally lost control of the vehicle and ended up over an embankment and in a field.
Barboza was pulled from his cell at the Charles Street Jail at 3:00 a.m. the following morning and led downstairs to a conference room, where two detectives were waiting.
“We’ve got some bad news for you, Joe,” said one of the officers.
Joe understood that it was the kind of bad news that could not wait for morning. Someone had been killed—someone very close to him. For a moment, he thought of his wife and daughter. When he was told that Chico Amico had been murdered, the news hit him nearly as hard. Barboza’s body went limp as he sat across from the detectives. He had just lost his best friend. Chico wasn’t just a partner; he had been like a kid brother to Joe. He had idolized Barboza and had shown the kind of loyalty that was truly rare in mob circles. That loyalty had cost Chico Amico his life, and the Animal decided at that moment that he would have his vengeance. But before he could plot against his enemies, he had to protect Fabiano, who was no doubt next on the hit list.
“Get Patsy Fabiano off the street,” Joe told the detectives. “He don’t know how to handle himself against these type of people and they’ll kill him.”79
Fabiano was brought in and placed under protective custody. Meanwhile, Barboza wanted to put the Mafia on notice. Through a jailhouse conversation with a well-known mob lawyer named Joe Balliro, the Animal spread word that he was going to kill everyone who might have been connected to Chico’s murder—and that group included Jerry Angiulo, Larry Baione, and the Man himself, Raymond Patriarca.
The Mafia boss responded by mobilizing a small army of killers to go after Barboza. A rumor had been circulating that Joe was close to making bail, and plans were now underway to ensure that his first day of freedom would also be his last day on earth. Henry Tameleo had thirteen men on standby ready to fan out across the Boston area upon word of Barboza’s release. They were to take up position inside local mob hangouts and even along highways and roads usually frequented by the Animal near his home in Swampscott. Tameleo then recruited Guy Frizzi to perform the ultimate betrayal. Frizzi would offer to pick Barboza up from jail. If the Animal accepted, Frizzi would lure Barboza into a deadly ambush. Tameleo did not account for the fact that Barboza did not trust Frizzi and would no doubt decline the ride. Ultimately the plan had to be scrapped anyway, because the district attorney refused to let Barboza out on bail. This also meant that D.A. Byrne would have to fast track his court proceedings.
In late January 1967, Barboza, Nicky Femia, and Patsy Fabiano were all found guilty on weapons charges. Joe received a prison sentence of four to five years for possession of a gun and a knife. Moments after the judge’s gavel sounded, Barboza was shipped off to Walpole under heavy security. Once there, he was reunited with the Bear in the maximum security section. Flemmi welcomed his old friend with some encouraging news. He told Joe that a move was being made against Wimpy Bennett. This was music to Joe’s ears, as he felt that his former mentor had betrayed him and was now worthy of death. Death came in the final days of January, when Wimpy Bennett was confronted with allegations that he was skimming money from Stevie Flemmi’s gambling operation. A meeting was called, and Wimpy’s bookkeeper pointed the guilty finger his way. Bennett denied the accusation but nobody believed him. Wimpy Bennett had always been a thief and a liar, and now he was going to have to pay for past sins. Stevie Flemmi pulled out a pistol and shot Wimpy under the right eye. They buried Bennett’s body at a shooting range in the town of Hopkinton, Massachusetts, near the starting line of the Boston Marathon. The Bear was among the first to learn about Wimpy’s demise. “The fox that bit us is dead,” he told Barboza.80
One enemy was now gone, but many more remained. When Ralphie Chong Lamattina arrived at Walpole to serve out his sentence for the Nite Lite murders, Barboza tried to make his life a living hell. Joe, who was now working on the chow line in the prison cafeteria, told Ralphie Chong that he had smuggled a vial of tasteless poison into his cell. Barboza did not threaten Ralphie directly, but the insinuation worked. The North End gangster passed on every dish Joe served and soon stopped eating altogether. One afternoon, Barboza crept into Ralphie’s cell when he was taking a nap. When Ralphie opened his eyes,
he was shocked to find the Animal standing over him with a meat cleaver.
“Don’t flinch or move your hands,” Barboza told him. “I know you got a knife under your pillow but before you reach it, I’ll sink this cleaver into your greasy head.”
Joe demanded that Ralphie tell him exactly what had happened at the Nite Lite on the evening that Tashi Bratsos and Tommy DePrisco were murdered. Ralphie Chong had no choice. He spilled his guts but afterward received no reprieve from Barboza, who told him that he was marked for death. “But not now,” he hissed at the shaking gangster. “I want you to worry, but I swear I’ll kill you.” The Animal spit in Ralphie’s face and then left the cell. Petrified, Lamattina told prison officials about the threat and was transferred to another prison the next day.
15
Deal Makers
Blame it on the lies that killed us
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN
While H. Paul Rico was still considered the Golden Child of the Boston FBI office, his partner Dennis Condon had fallen out of favor with his superiors. Condon had recently been written up for failure to properly disseminate information that had been obtained by an informant who had told him that a particular suspect in another FBI case carried a machine gun and was considered crazy. Although no disciplinary action was taken, it was a mark on his record, and the FBI agent was now in desperate need of a win. In early February 1967, Stevie “the Rifleman” Flemmi was approved as a Top Echelon Informant for the FBI. Soon afterward, he began making frequent trips to Walpole State Prison to speak with his brother and with Joe Barboza. Serving as an envoy for Rico and Condon, Stevie told both the Bear and the Animal that the feds had Jimmy Flemmi dead to rights for the murder of Edward “Teddy” Deegan. Stevie told them about a key witness: Chelsea police captain Joseph Kozlowski, who had observed a stocky man with dark hair and a bald spot in the center of his head in the back of the getaway car on the night Deegan was killed. With witness testimony from a cop, there was little doubt that Vincent “Jimmy the Bear” Flemmi would be convicted of the crime and sent straight to the electric chair. There was one intriguing alternative, however. The Rifleman told his brother and Barboza that the FBI would be willing to cover up their respective roles in the Deegan murder and possibly help reduce their sentences if they were willing to cooperate in their war against La Cosa Nostra.
“Tell the FBI to go fuck themselves,” Barboza said.81
The Animal had committed just about every egregious crime there was, but he still lived his life under a certain code of conduct. Barboza’s commandments were simple: never hurt women and children and never snitch on your friends or even your enemies. Despite his falling out with the Office, Joe’s natural enemy had always been law enforcement. Any assistance given to the FBI would violate all of the unwritten rules of the mob jungle. Joe Barboza was no Joe Valachi.
Stevie Flemmi begged Barboza to listen to the FBI’S offer. The feds wanted the Rifleman to convince his brother or Barboza to flip. Stevie applied more pressure on Joe because he knew that if his brother publicly cooperated with law enforcement, his own neck would eventually be slit. This frightening realization was also compounded by the fact that the Bear would make for a horrible witness. On a credibility scale of from 1 to 10, the Bear was at zero. Barboza could at least be an eloquent and engaging speaker at times. His story would be much more believable than Jimmy Flemmi’s.
“Think about it,” Stevie implored Barboza. “What do you owe the Office after the way they’ve treated you?”
Joe did think about it, long and hard. The Mafia had killed his friends, stolen his bail money, and framed him on a gun possession charge that had landed him at least four years in prison. They had taken away his power and left him with nothing.
“Okay, I’ll meet with the FBI.”
Dennis Condon and H. Paul Rico entered Walpole on March 10, 1967, for their first meeting with Joe Barboza. Rico introduced himself and then his partner. Barboza recognized Rico immediately, as he had seen him at the track several times before.
“I’ll talk to you if you agree not to testify against me for whatever I’ve said,” Joe told them.
“We’ll respect your confidence,” replied Rico.
Barboza had been burned by law enforcement before and decided to share with them the story of a Boston police lieutenant who had promised him one thing only to deliver something else.
“I’ve always tried to make a living outside of the law,” Joe explained. “If anyone in law enforcement could prove that I was doing wrong, I’m willing to pay the consequences. However, when you find that a police officer that you know fingered scores, acted as a lookout when scores were being pulled, and divided up the proceeds from these scores, turns around and manufactures evidence and testimony against you, you have a feeling that maybe you the criminal have played by the wrong standards.”82
Barboza stressed to Rico and Condon that he planned to target this police officer for retribution when he was eventually released from prison. This was the Animal’s way of saying—Fuck with me and I’ll fuck with you.
“Look, you probably suspect what’s happened in most of the gangland murders that have happened in this area,” he told the federal agents. “But I know what’s happened in practically every murder that’s been committed. But one thing I won’t do is give you any information that would allow the Bear to fry.”83
Rico and Condon agreed to the terms. Joe also wanted a guarantee that he would receive any additional time tacked onto his concurrent sentences for the gun and knife possession.
“If I’m left in here too long, my wife will leave me and I’ll probably commit suicide.”84 Barboza demanded protection for his wife and little girl because he knew that Patriarca would view them as his Achilles’ heel. The FBI agents swore that they would keep Claire and Stacy out of harm’s way. Joe Barboza was putting his own safety and that of his family in the hands of two men he had never met before. It was a calculated risk to be sure, but he had been gambling one way or the other all of his life. Yet, still conflicted about his decision to turn stoolie, Joe decided that he would use his meeting with the FBI as leverage in a last-ditch effort to strike a truce with Patriarca. He wrote the mob boss a letter and had it smuggled out of Walpole. In the note, Barboza wrote that he would not cooperate with the feds if the Mafia promised to leave him alone and let him disappear with his family once he was freed from prison. It was a Hail Mary pass that was quickly knocked away by Patriarca. Upon reading the letter, the boss called Barboza a “dirty nigger bastard” and vowed to kill him—inside or outside of prison. Word quickly got back to Joe that he was indeed a dead man walking. The decree of murder left him no choice. The Animal had to go all in with the FBI.
“Yes, they [the Mafia] would never let me out if they could stop it,” Barboza wrote later in his memoir. “They know they’d have to kill me if I got out and they know I’d take plenty of them with me. That old fool [Patriarca] in Rhode Island misinterpreted my respect for fear. Fear him? I didn’t fear tougher guys than Raymond Patriarca. Besides, I’d learned to accept dying a long time ago as my friends all around me died in the gang war. I’ve got nothing left but my mouth with which to fight now. I’d be a fool to keep quiet on the theory that twenty years from now, when I’m 55, I could get out and get even. No, now while I’m young is the time to get even. I’ll bring them in the can with me since I can’t get out to them and when I get them here, we’ll get on with it.”85
Barboza sat down again with the agents two weeks later, this time at the Federal Building in Boston and this time in the presence of his lawyer, John Fitzgerald. For legal counsel, Joe had hired several attorneys during his criminal career, including F. Lee Bailey and Al Farese. But when it mattered most, he trusted Farese’s partner, John Fitzgerald, more than anyone. Fitzgerald was loyal to Barboza. Like Chico Amico, the attorney idolized Barboza and had seen his own status rise through his connection to the “biggest killer in the Commonwealth.” Fitzgerald acted like a mobster in lawyer�
��s clothing. Despite being married, Fitzgerald had his own harem of gangster molls that he squired around Boston in Barboza’s James Bond car, which he had purchased from Joe the previous year. Barboza had made Fitzgerald’s career, and Joe believed that the lawyer would protect his interests.
In the second meeting with Rico and Condon, Barboza said that he had come to the conclusion that they had a common enemy in “the Italian organization,” as he called it.86 Joe shared his belief that the Mafia would try to kill him in prison or when he got out.
“Either way, I’m a dead man,” he stated. “They can reach into local law enforcement agencies and obtain any information in their possession.”87
It was different with the FBI, Joe explained. Unlike local cops, the bureau was committed to the all-out destruction of La Cosa Nostra, and Barboza pledged that he was now committed to the effort also. He told the agents that he had even asked Patsy Fabiano to join the fight. He said that Patsy had been inside the Nite Lite Café during the massacre of Bratsos and DePrisco and had witnessed Larry Baione fire the first shot at Tashi. Barboza promised that he and Fabiano would also furnish names of the other shooters involved to District Attorney Garrett Byrne.
“I hope the district attorney appreciates my help and will gimme a break on the two cases still pending against me,” Barboza said, playing his cards closely.
Animal Page 18